Under the Cypress Moon (16 page)

"Ugly?  Don't you call yourself ugly!  You're the opposite of ugly!  You are, by far, the most beautiful, the most amazing sight I've ever laid my eyes on!  You're more beautiful than a fall sunset over Savannah!  I could stare at you for all time!"

Shylah, now so embarrassed but also the  most flattered that she had ever been, smiled so hard that Mark could not hold back from taking grasp of her lips.  Lunging, Mark engulfed Shylah's lips, covering them with his own, often enveloping them, caressing them, teasing and tantalizing them, even gently biting them.  The flood of serious attention and pleasure filled Shylah with other feelings.  She suddenly wanted very much to tear Mark apart, to rip his clothes from him one shred at a time and consume his body with all of hers.

The only thought separating Shylah from her desires was that of knowing that Mark was not in good health, that acting upon her feelings might endanger Mark in some way.  Surely, he could not easily withstand any pain or injury caused by the intense lovemaking that seemed to be so needed.  The two of them had given into temptation plenty of times before, but they had been apart for well over a week before this ordeal began, not to mention that Mark's state, especially as a result of Shylah's carelessness, brought great pity and made Mark seem ever more desirable than he already had been.

Lying there, Shylah contemplated it all
, staring into Mark's eyes, trying hard to fight her innermost urges.  She found that this was nearly impossible.  All that she wanted, all that she could want, was Mark, all of him, every little bit.  Without giving it a further thought, Shylah re-enveloped Mark's lips, taking them in, doing exactly what she wanted to do, giving Mark a taste of his own medicine.  Shylah could hold back no longer.  She had needs, she was sure, and the only one that she ever wanted to fulfill her needs from then until the day that she died was Marcus Crady.  If Mark abused Shylah's lips ever so, caressing and teasing them as he had, he must want the same things, Shylah mused.

Mark had no intentions of holding back at this point.  He had anticipated, from the moment of waking, that something would happen between he and Shylah.  He welcomed Shylah's touch, her kiss, her entirety of passion and giving.  The moment was rife with hopeful and intimate embrace.

As the two rekindled lovers ran their hands all over one another, clothes began to magically fly away like ethereal birds.  Mark did not give a single thought to how his head or his neck felt.  All that mattered at that moment was Shylah and showing her how exactly he felt about her.  Anything else was secondary and could be worried about at a later time. 

The two rolled back and forth, never losing their grip on one another with hands or lips.  Mark noticed a twinge in his neck and a slightly searing pain coming from the back of his head, but he could scarcely pay these pains any attention. 
As the pain gathered more and more, however, Mark began to question what he was doing.  It was all that he wanted, he was certain, but it could prove to be disastrous, he reminded himself.  "You know, Baby..." Mark couldn't quite finish what he was saying, so lost in the moment and not knowing if that moment would continue if he did finish.

"Know what,"Shylah asked, her eyes locked into Mark's, her hands still exploring.

With a gulp, Mark continued what he feared saying, "I think you're gonna have to do most of the work here.  I'm startin' to feel some pain in my neck and my head."

"Work?  What work?  You think somethin's gonna happen here, Mister?"

"I kinda figured with what we're already doin'.  I mean, we are already practically naked."

"Oh," Shylah exclaimed.  "I do declare!  You have stripped this poor lil' ol' gal of her clothing, you monster!"

"I'm serious," Mark responded, laughing so hard that he started to hurt even more.

Shylah could tell that Mark was in pain.  The way that he cringed spoke volumes.  "Maybe.  Maybe we shouldn't do anything, Mark, if you're in that much pain."

"No!  I want to!"

"I do, too, but I'm not gonna be responsible for hurting you."

"No.  I'll be fine, Babe.  Just get me some of my pain pills, and I'll be ok."

"Pain pills," Shylah asked.  "We didn't get you any pain pills.  I never thought to go by the pharmacy."

"Shit!  Ok.  Could you go into the bathroom and get me some ibuprofens?"

"Sure.  Anything for you, sexy man!  Your bathroom, right?"

"Yup.  Just be glad I got one.  Otherwise, you'd have to either get dressed or go out naked."  Mark smiled so hard that his face began to hurt almost as much as everything else.

"Oh.  I'm sure your dad would like that!"

"He might be asleep, but yeah.  He probably would.  I know I sure as hell enjoy the sight!"

"You better!"  As Shylah said this, she began to turn away, giving Mark more to enjoy, though she still had her jeans on.

"I can't believe what a lucky man I am," Mark firmly stated as Shylah stepped into the bathroom.

"Lucky?  You're not so lucky.  Look what bein' with me got you into!  If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be hurt like you are!  It's my fault!"  Shylah's mood was now turning from incredibly aroused to incredibly saddened.  Mark not only did not want Shylah to lose the mood but also did not want her doubting herself or putting herself down anymore.

"Hey.  Come here, Beautiful," Mark quickly demanded as Shylah walked toward him with a glass of water and the bottle of pills.

Shylah hurriedly got out a handful of pills for Mark while he stared at her beauty and her bounty, watching as her captivatingly ample breasts bounced with her struggled to open the bottle's lid.

"Hey, look at me, Shylah," Mark supplicated to the woman.  "It is not your fault, ok?  Well, maybe it kinda is, but I don't blame you.  And if I hadn't got hurt, me and you wouldn't be right here, right now, like this.  I'm glad it happened!"

"You mean it," Shylah rather coyly asked, hoping for Mark's reassurance.  "You're not mad at me?  You don't blame me?"

"No.  I do not blame you.  You're all I want.  You know that.  You're everything to me.  Don't you dare sit there blamin' yourself, ok?  You got enough people in this world to look down on you without you lookin' down on yourself.  You are an amazing woman.  I'm glad even to just know you, let alone get to be with you.  Not only are you the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, but you're sweet and caring.  You're giving up all of your time to take care of me.  I know how you feel about me, the same as how I feel about you, I hope.  Don't you worry none.  Everything will be alright.  You got me.  I got you, and I will not let more stupid shit get in the way."

"Stupid shit?  Like what?"

"Like people tryin' to tell us we shouldn't be together.  I don't give half a damn what they think.  Just know how much I care about you.  You got me as long as you want me, and everybody else can just go jump in the swamp if they don't like it.  Screw 'em."

"You know, you say 'half a damn' a lot.  You said it earlier," Shylah added, jokingly, hoping to lighten the mood some and not really know exactly what to say to all of the wonderful things that Mark had just told her.

"Yeah I do.  I do say 'half a damn' a lot.  I like that.  It's somethin' I say a lot, and I don't give half a damn about who cares if I say half a damn."

"Silly, take your pills," Shylah ordered.

"Yes, Ma'am," Mark answered, raising his right hand firmly to his forehead in salute.

After the pills were down, and the glass had been set aside on the nightstand, Shylah crawled over to Mark, placing herself right over him, her lips slowly lowering toward his. 
The seriousness of the earlier proceedings had not hampered the desires of either person a bit.  They wanted each other wholeheartedly, in every conceivable way.  Neither had any plans to ever let the other go or to let anyone ever interfere again.  This would be the first of many intoxicating nights to come. 

Shylah had no problem with doing what Mark requested.  Quickly removing the rest of her clothing, Shylah then kissed her way up Mark's entire body, stopping at his mouth, taking his lips slowly into her mouth, sucking gently, biting, nibbling, careening, running her tongue along those lips and deeply into Mark's mouth.  They kissed so passionately and embraced each other with such ferocity that no one could have torn them asunder.  No power in the universe could have cooled the intensity of their fire.

Before long, Shylah carefully traced Mark's body with her hands until reaching his groin, running her fingers, trailing them, across every inch of Mark, filling the man with so much anticipation that he felt he might explode soon.  With another very passionate kiss, Shylah positioned herself atop Mark perfectly, taking him inside of her, the two living now in complete ecstasy of the moment.  It was everything that both of them had missed and needed.  It fulfilled every desire, every whim, and every rift that might have existed. 

No previous moment in all of the history of mankind had been as passionate, as intense, so full of love, devotion, and fulfillment of desirous longing.  Everything that Shylah or Mark needed was in that embrace, in the deep and powerful penetration of body and spirit.  When it was all over, it left both of them spent and completely satisfied, though, sadly, it also left Mark with a much stronger pain from the neck up, leaving both he and Shylah to wonder if they should attempt such a thing again.

Shylah felt perfectly content to lie there, unclothed beneath Mark's sheets, caressing the parts of his head not affected by injury, showering him with a million tiny kisses all over his face and temple.  Nothing could be more satisfying or bring more appreciation of received blessing and tranquility.  Mark fell easily and fast to sleep with his head on Shylah's thinly wrapped chest.  It was everything needed for both and everything unordinary gainful for Shylah.  Her life felt cooperative and giving for one of the few times that she could remember, as there in her arms lay the most wonderful man that she could have imagined, a man so loving that he would give his absolute all for her, would die for her, would never do anything that was not to bring Shylah joy.

Shylah happily listened to Mark's heavy breathing, feeling it blowing through the sheets, melting her skin with its heat.  After a while, Shylah felt her arm begin to go numb, but she figured it a very small price to pay for such an event as this.
  It was not long at all before Shylah, too, felt her eyelids grow heavy.  Neither she nor Mark had had anything at all to eat since that afternoon, but it did not matter.  They were asleep, sharing Mark's bed for the first time in weeks, lost in each other's embrace.

When Shylah awoke, she found that Mark had been lying next to her, propped on his left hand, staring and smiling.  "How long you been awake, Baby," Shylah happily inquired.

"A few minutes."

"Whacha been doin'?"

"Watching you sleep."  Mark's smile seemed to light up the entire room as he said this.

"What?  Why would you be watchin' me?"

"Cuz you're the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on in all my life.  Why wouldn't I wanna stare?"

Stretching and yawning, Shylah was too joyous for words.  Just knowing that she had spent the entire night enwrapped, yea, entangled with Mark meant the world to her.  Surely, they would now stand a much better chance than they had ever before.  At the very least, they would fight for one another and let all haters, all doubters, fall by the wayside.

Shylah immediately threw her arm onto Mark's pillow, just above his head, causing Mark to lift himself from off of his hand and place his head on Shylah's arm.  Neither of them cared anything about morning breath or anything else, losing themselves once more in tangling emotion and physical desire, parting each other's lips over and over.

After several minutes of this, Shylah hurriedly rose, nearly throwing Mark's head violently.  "I'm sorry, Babe.  I didn't mean to do that, but I gotta pee!  Make way!  Make way!"

As Shylah hurried to the bathroom, still completely nude, Mark rolled over to admire the view.  "Damn, girl, you give a hell of a show!"

"What do you mean," Shylah shouted as she closed the bathroom door behind her.

"I mean seein' you with clothes on is one thing, a breathtaker, but seein' you without 'em, damn, damn, damn!"

"Boy," Shylah retorted, trying hard to carry her voice through the very thick door, "you're goofy.  I don't have nothin' nobody wants to see!"

"Whatever.  You got everything I wanna see every day!  I could never get tired of seein' what I just saw!"

When Shylah emerged from behind the door, she ran to the bed and jumped on top of Mark, he letting out a loud, "ugh."

"You're dead," Shylah exclaimed, forcing her mouth onto Mark's.

After many seconds of intensely heated kissing, Mark felt like his breath really had been stolen.  It was strange, he thought.  No other woman had ever done that to him before.  "You take my breath away," he could not help but mutter.

"Take your breath away?  Really?  You're gonna use that line?  If you're gonna lie like that, why don't you come up with somethin' better?"  Shylah felt a little upset at this, believing that Mark was faking his emotions, perhaps, faking a lot more with her.

"No!  I mean it, Baby.  You really did just take my breath away.  The way you kiss me, I'm serious!  I actually could not breathe!  I've heard people say that but never thought it could happen.  You're that good with your mouth."