Chapter eleven

Of course he knew what she had meant. But she was the wine he wanted. The wine he wanted to share. She was still looking at him in alarm. He interpreted it as fear. Fear of wanting him too. Fear of the emotions and desire burning in her mind. Fear of her naivety. Fear that if they get that intimate, she'd not be able to hold herself. Fear of being so vulnerable to his charms. He turned, deciding to leave, but on a second thought, he moved closer to her. She was his wife afterall. Her head was still in the headrest as her eyes maintained contact and followed his closing movement. She wasn't moving, as if hypnotized by him. Getting to her, he felt her long, wet and silky hair. An involuntary moan escaped her lips as he massaged her scalp gently, touching, feeling. Arranging and adjusting her scattered foamy hair from her face, he leaned closer and closer. Eyes locked. The air wreaked of passion. He lifted her face to him as his face drew within inches of her face. She closed her eyes, pa