CHAPTER 139

A DIFFERENT KIND OF PLEASURE

He remained looking at her for an eternity. He didn't say anything, but he looked at her deeply, and Clara felt that it was already enough intimacy. It was as if he was kissing her or making love to her. Just that gaze of his was the utmost intimacy she needed from him. The satisfaction of having him looking at her with such intensity was a million times more intense than holding Donizete's hand in Sunday school.

Forgotten were the tears that streamed down her face, she didn't close her eyes when he approached her inch by inch. She didn't close her eyes when his crooked teeth got closer to her wet face. She could see his red lips so close, and there was no greater intimacy than that. As he got closer, a hand, the same hand that held hers on the table, rose to her face and rested on her chin. Now his palm was warm, no longer cold like when she held it, and the warm touch of his hand on her face almost melted her. His thumb was on her chin, his long fingers