kafkaesque: having a nightmarishly complex, bizarre, or illogical quality.
There was a single thought in her mind that she could say aloud at this point. Each one tainted by the lust filled moment they were sharing in the alleyway of one of the main roads of the busy city that never slept. Never once in her life had she imagined something like this ever happening. Every action was so out of character for the normally soft spoken and modest brunette, but something in her brain had been triggered that released an entirely new set of responses. Sophia bit down on her lesser lips, large brown eyes looking up at the male when he spoke. “We are.”
He lifted her skirt up, grabbing both of her thighs to wrap round his waist instantaneously. “You’re alright with that?” He mumbled, voice husk and parched. Tell me you’re not scared, he wanted to say, but instead he planted kiss along her neck, leaving wet red marks that would soon develop into a deep dark purple, souvenirs that symbolized she was taken and was all his. His head rose once more to press their foreheads together, deep viridescent colored eyes looking up at hers. He took in her scent, felt the skin underneath his hands, soft and smooth, as tough as her innocence. “I love you.” He found it better to repeat it, because then he wouldn’t feel uncomfortable about saying it anymore.