It was said with barely any knowledge in Moreau's mind. Abihirt had never broached the subject in the first place. Never if she struggled to remember anymore. Now, suddenly it all felt shocking, like letting a drop of blood become a map on a blank canvas. There was no way to drag out an agreement. They schemed; yes, at least another word described the scene of betrayal.
"What do you want, Abi?" Moreau folded her arms across her chest. About to confirm for herself one of her stepfather's serious intentions by asking a question with little understanding of the prohibition the man had just declared. "You'll never really know what I want." However, it would be useless if Abihirt would end up forming another conundrum and not try to tell more. Moreau raised one eyebrow high. Deliberately leaving that as the first reaction. Let the next take over, since that part was already a distance away from disrupting the most organized; let's talk about something relevant."Froy is not a child anymore. I will not defend him." An oddly implied tone behind Abihirt's deep, raspy voice. Moreau almost squinted as she silently searched for an answer. However, not everyone was good at breaking through something so solidly there. This was what it felt like when things felt unusually suspended. "Then why are you accusing me?" Perhaps a fishing question would help a little. Moreau was interested in challenging a grown man's temper, or perhaps—on special confession—that she took an interest in her stepfather's passion. Knew that Abihirt was struggling with restraint. It was barely revealed, as if a brief discipline had been signaled against trying to put black ink between their decisions. Suddenly, all was tense as Moreau realized there was no sense of humor behind her stepfather's shoulders. Not now or ever. The man was really staring. Detailing a picture of a sadist. "You are under the influence of rules and should obey whatever h
Let the various rules between them be broken down however Moreau wanted. She was not yet completely clear. Deliberately adding emphasis at the end of the sentence, curious as to how the man would react though in the end it was always an indescribably calm demeanor. "He's an exception because you have specific business." No one wanted to believe that. Moreau figured the walls around them would have a similar opinion. She squinted simply looking for her stepfather's crack. Abihirt was too perfect to fall into a pit. Certainly never even if it needed to be described by the word 'almost'. "Specific matter... you mean, because he's my skating partner?" "More or less like that." "You really don't get mad when he touches my body? Juan is very good at touching me. You've seen it yourself." Woe. Moreau had gone too far. She wanted to stop. Just didn't know how. Fishing for Abihirt's other side was like going through a cocaine compulsion. She resisted, but
Abihirt's upcoming question was probably one of the many things the man was interjecting. Moreau swallowed harshly in pure reaction after observing the parting of the line on her stepfather's lower lip. She had to really observe and re-imagine how the hot kiss became a familiar sensation. "Ya, I still won't obey." It took a lot of self-control, and Moreau only mastered that after a while. She was trying to limit her distance with Abihirt, though it suddenly felt difficult to do. "You will be punished then." Her stepfather continued to say calmly, leaving Moreau a little clueless so she pressed her lips together just to find the wrong justification there. She never thought there would be a punishment. "So that's what I get for being your submissive?" she asked to be absolutely sure. Wasn't there anything else that wouldn't give her a bitter feeling? Moreau did not agree that Abihirt would arrange such a severe punishment without even thinking that she w
Now Abihirt's hidden intentions were straightforward. Moreau could hardly comprehend. However, she herself did not know how to get out of the way when the man had arranged her body to face the bed with both hands braced firmly on the edge of the mattress. Abihirt was doing something intimate that made some of Moreau's feelings rebel violently, though there was no denying that there was half a desire to wait for an action when the man had pulled the thin dress on her body up. With no underwear as a layer of anticipation, it presented an instant scene. Moreau held her breath at the touch of a rough palm... gently rubbing the surface of her buttocks. It was too brief for Abihirt to simply test when the field would get wet. The man tends to be impatient, instead of making sure Moreau is willing to accept the already firm, solid, and all-encompassing shaft. Don't know if it's the urge of pleasure or not, but Moreau doesn't put up the slightest resistance feeling
"You must believe me. I saw Uncle Abi come out of Moreau's room myself. It was almost midnight when I finished swimming." The sound from outside drew Moreau to blink a few times, even though she had tried hard to wake up from keeping her eyes closed. Froy .... The man's voice was the most dominating, it took a moment at least for Moreau to fully comprehend the flashes of chaos that were being scattered there. She gasped instantly, hoping this was a dream, but the conversation behind the layers of room walls had shown her the truth. What had Froy seen and known? Moreau's mind wondered, so afraid, if last night the man had been drenched in information about Abihirt deciding to take punitive action; for a single mistake in the middle of normal tolerance. Her stepfather simply did not want to admit to a pointless self-defense. Instead, he was willing to take a risky risk like this. Where is Abihirt now? Moreau blinked rapidly. She wanted to get up, th
"What's wrong, Mom, Auntie?" Moreau didn't want to draw attention to Froy, making sure she didn't make eye contact with the man. Leave Froy to his own thoughts—certain thoughts and specific accusations set the tone. Ambition always turned into a major attack, however... felt quite dangerous. It would end up being tricky trying to get into it when not knowing if there was the most appropriate way to swim your way out. "Why didn't you tell us that Uncle Abi was in your room last night, Moreau? What were you doing? My mother and Aunt Barbara are already curious." Again. Froy's voice was the first to scatter, like a razor blade trying to tear through a wet piece of paper—it had already damaged it before it actually got to the stage of wanting to glue the flat, sharp part. Moreau had not found an answer. Didn't know what to say. Whether to accuse Froy, then all the man's statements would backfire or to keep quiet... letting Barbara's expression faintly turn angry.
Moreau looked at her stepfather skeptically. The man should have understood the hint she had given. It was not like this; plunging their secret scandal into a big hole to explode with the truce bomb placed inside. She wanted to be angry, but it was useless. Moreau would not be able to do anything more serious when Barbara was still showing a despondent expression, even though the woman had marked her as an easy target... if only, knowing something more serious right now. "What were you doing in Moreau's room?" Another question was soon detailed. Moreau did not even want to look at Abihirt's face, whether the man had gathered instant answers or simply had no real expression to avoid the age-old problem-still a terrible mess. "Returning the bracelet that fell in the courtyard outside." It all happened so suddenly. Moreau flinched slightly, then instinctively looked down at her wrist. Something that must not be forgotten. It was Abihirt, who had
"Since you're still here, why not help me with something in the kitchen?" Moreau winced slightly, detecting that she would not be able to refuse. Gloriya's smile had already portrayed something of hope, especially when the woman extended a hand to simply guide their steps into a room with a special arrangement. Various raw cooking ingredients had filled the entire kitchen table. Something was missing and she still hadn't found the closest clue. "What's the occasion, Auntie?" This time Moreau asked a question, at least to water the curiosity that was stuck on the edge. Unusual. It seemed too sudden and she had to pay attention to whatever was in front of them. "Your mom said she wanted to throw a barbecue party. So, this is what we're doing. We'll have a big meal tonight." That sounded like fun. Moreau instinctively widened her smile. In a pure gesture, she tried to take a look at the contents of the grocery plastic; whether Barbara had forgotten her fa
[Abi, can I borrow your phone to send you my pictures from the desert ....] Barbara's whole body boiled at the thought of what her logic was unraveling. Abihirt said that the man was still in Dubai; he would be home soon, but it was surprising to find Moreau's voice sneaking in between their conversation. This could not be regretted. No matter how much Barbara tried to deny it. She had sifted through everything that had happened there, clearly... very clearly that Moreau needed photos in the desert to send to the girl's cell phone. Probably no further explanation of what had actually happened was expected. Hell, Barbara hadn't even said a word and demanded that Abihirt talk about everything her husband had been hiding, including when Abihirt claimed to be unaware of Moreau's whereabouts the last time she had called the man while talking about her daughter's whereabouts. However, the call was unexpectedly dropped. Really, Barbara couldn't accept that one lit
However, for a moment Moreau turned her head towards herstep father when she touched the doorknob. Abihirt unexpectedly grabbed the man's cell phone on the nightstand. Perhaps there was an important rush, which indirectly reminded Moreau that there was one thing—she had forgotten to say to her stepfather. This wouldn't take long. She would just wash her face with a splash of water, then return to the man. Indeed, not for long. When Moreau looked at her reflection in the mirror, the first thing she did was take a deep breath. All the devices here belonged only to Abihirt. She would brush her teeth, later, at home. Now it was best to approach the man on the bed. Suddenly Moreau's inner explosion became enthusiastic. She had been looking forward to sending pictures in the desert that day, after starting to operate the new cell phone her stepfather had given her. Hoping Abihirt wouldn't mind when she mentioned her wildly raging goals. Moreau hurriedly crossed t
Although it wasn't .... Moreau felt something heavy pressing around her body. She blinked a few times to realize that the habitual light from the window was trying to penetrate through the dangling curtains. It was already morning. It seemed like last night's request for sleep had put her into a deep slumber. Moreau would have nothing to say about that. It was all in the past and there was no need to relive something that always ended in uncertainty in the end. As she tried to shift, she sucked in as much air as she could, wanting to stretch her stiff bones a little, but soon realized that there was hardly any room to move. Someone seemed to have trapped her; inhaling the masculine scent that rushed in, until Moreau unintentionally touched a strand of hair—it felt smooth, and she kept brushing her palm gently there. This seemed to leave a certain sensation, not knowing why the corners of her lips instinctively curled up slightly; perhaps it was because she
"Why do you keep squeezing me like this?" It took a lot of courage and determination for Moreau to finally ask the question in a half-whisper. She wanted to look back, but the clear presence of Abihirt's face made their cheeks touch. The man would certainly not say anything. Moreau instinctively let out a rough breath; letting Abihirt position himself better and now the man's face was almost trapped in the crook of her neck. Abihirt was not sleeping. That was the least Moreau could feel. Probably not going to fall asleep anytime soon either, though the man admitted to not doing much of anything himself after their long journey. After all, there were things left between them that Moreau wasn't going to just reveal. It was still about Froy and she would try to find clues. "I thought of something." Moreau began with a sense of alarm rising swiftly in her mind. When Abihirt walked into the trap, she was sure the man wouldn't suddenly become very quiet.
It was fun teasing Abihirt. That was how Moreau felt. This time she was really daring. Really going to be defiant with her stepfather and tentatively tugging at the fabric to leave only a contrasting lacy undergarment. Letting a pause occur for a moment, then hesitantly glancing at Abihirt as she had to carefully cover some parts of her body in front of the man. She was the one trying to provoke something to explode in Abihirt, but didn't want her mother's husband to be brutalized and left unrescued. Now, as she slowly inserted her hands into the holes of the cloth—wearing the T-shirt given by the man appropriately. It was done. Moreau's body was wrapped. She seemed to be drowning. Immediately looked down and witnessed how the edge of the cloth was definitely touching her thighs. Abihirt correctly guessed not to add pants. Just a thin satin undergarment and it made Moreau feel comfortable. "I'm going to bed now," she said, hurriedly looking up, only to find
Moreau looked down; realizing that she needed to do the same, but her suitcase and all her new clothes, which he had prepared when they were about to head to Dubai, were still in the car. Abihirt had given no clue about the items left outside. Perhaps he would prepare them later, when they were fully prepared and Moreau only had to wait for him to finish the remaining parts. She would not sit idly by, soon catching up to wake up and applying attention to the last time Barbara's husband's sturdy shoulders were still visible behind. Perhaps too presumptuous. Yes, it was. However, it was better than never. Every detail of Abihirt's actions was so unpredictable. The man had dressed up in an instant right there. That, at least, needed to be emphasized. There was nothing to regret, even though Moreau felt very nervous as those gray eyes stared at her intently. "You said you were still sleepy. Why aren't you sleeping?" Abihirt's deep, hoarse voice sounded as if a mistak
"I'm so sleepy and lazy to walk, can you just carry me?" Moreau did not want to take this too far when she could hardly protest to her stepfather; regarding the man's decision to be here, in the courtyard of the luxurious mansion, instead of returning to the house where they lived. Perhaps this would be enough of an understanding. Abihirt also did not show any reluctance to simply comply with what she had just tried to initiate between them, which silently made Moreau curl her lips slightly after detecting how the man got out of the car, then took a stance of taking her body—clinging tightly with both hands fully attached there. Moreau instinctively held on to her stepfather's neck. She looked up. Admiring every detail on the man's face. There was almost nothing to miss. It felt nice to imagine being on a date and Abihirt being a good lover, doing what she wanted. Though... that might not be true. That man was still her stepfather. He would always b
"I was just wondering how I could change my husband. What do you think about having child?" Barbara asked slowly. There was a look of regret when she said this. Samuel wouldn't understand her and she had no intention of telling him more. "A child from me or Abi?" Instead of offering suggestions, the man asked as if there were so many options, but Barbara needed to pick one. Yes, only one and no one could change the game she was about to start. "It's definitely Abi. He's my husband," she said indisputably. "But I touch you a lot." Woe betide her; Samuel had a way of simply knocking down the hopes she had built up on so many levels. Barbara exhaled harshly; feeling the need to raise the prospect of reality not being forgotten. "Even though you touch me often. Still, Abi is my husband. He touches me too. You're even." "Not even. You yourself admitted that Abi has been busy with a lot of work lately and it made you look for an escape. I've al
"Do you like cruise ship travel, Honey?" The sea breeze rushed across the surface of Barbara's body, leaving a sweeping impression that was too forced, but she was enjoying every bit of it here with Samuel and he had just whispered very softly in her face. Barbara smiled slightly at the feel of the man's arms reaching out tentatively, until the moving face had nuzzled around her neck. "Don't you do that, Sam!" warned Barbara after detecting that Samuel was about to take a dangerous action. She didn't want him to leave a reddish mark and if there was ever an urge to return home, she feared she would not be able to hide it from Abihirt's view. There was no word from her cold husband after the last time they had a phone conversation. Even Barbara needed to be pushed through a determined struggle until Abihirt was willing to accept a voice call and even then they spoke all too briefly. She was not satisfied yet. A little unwilling that Abihirt had gone on a trip to Dubai when s