Sometimes after an hour of apathy, my strange and beautiful companion would take my hand and hold it with a fond pressure, renewed again and again; blushing softly, gazing in my face with languid and burning eyes, and breathing so fast that her dress rose and fell with the tumultuous respiration. It was like the ardor of a lover; it embarrassed me; it was hateful and yet over-powering; and with gloating eyes she drew me to her, and her hot lips traveled along my cheek in kisses; and she would whisper, almost in sobs, “You are mine, you shall be mine, you and I are one for ever.”
The consuming intensity of a passion that claims body and soul, blurring the boundaries between longing and obsession, lust and loathing. Ylang ylang and clove evoke the heat of skin against skin, bruised by bittersweet blackcurrant honey kisses.
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