Sunday, May 1, 2011
mingling
She scatterd the opium weights on the table. Tiny brass tablets tarnished and cast with ancient symbols. He emitted a low growl and pondered how they had facilitated the hopeless and desparate as he fashioned them into the shape of a cross on the table. Picking one up, he licked it, wanting the taste as well as the sight and touch, then leaned across and pressed his lips to hers, letting the surreptitious mingle with the bliss of her kiss.
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