Knife

Her scent was reminiscent of cool green apples. A smile flashed upon her face quickly and discreetly. Her lips stretched slighty; a hint only that disappeared as a soft breath escaped her lips. Naturally, they were a bright pink hue, but at the moment possessed a fierce bloodred wine color. They were open slightly, not a gleaming white tooth visible. Her cheekbones were prominently displayed and cast small shadows below them. At the end of each cheekbone were the tips of her jawbone on either side.
That is where he was; his lips just millimeters under her cheekbone, right beside her left ear. She could feel his warm, humid breath on that spot. A soft moan jumped through her vocal chords and out her parted lips. This gave him incentive to bring his lips onto her skin, gently sweeping them down her jawbone. From there he kissed down to her neck, which she exposed naturally.
It was the first time they shared this closeness, this intimacy. Never was a word spoken but both saw each other one day and understood. She waited for this moment to come, with a burning, exhilarating desperation she had never felt before, until finally the day came that they were in each other's presence once more. One look had sealed their fate.
The soft moan was the first sound of her voice he had heard from her. They had never conversed; they had never needed to.
It was a furious, ugly thing that bound them together, but accepted without question. Their wordless consent and action proved their indifference to their emotional catastrophe. It was everything they did -and did not- want.
He reached the left side of her collarbone that was modestly exposed by her black evening dress. It was modest by present standards; not revealing much of her lustful soft skin. But it did not matter what she wore- every part of her was still accentuated by anything she happened to wear. She relished the moment of physical weakness and submission she felt towards him, just as he knew and relished that she did. It was a mutual weakness coming into contact with one another in such a way.
His lips returned to her but did not touch them. Both were parted just a fraction, as if they were waiting for something to be said. They gazed into each other's eyes and saw fear mixed with an intensity of no proportion.
In a desperate move, she threw her arms around him, reducing the distance between their lips to nothing. It was a wildfire breeding, spreading, reproducing, and she could not find the power to control herself. She was tipped back onto her bed and she was aware of nothing but the pull of his lips keeping them intertwined as she fell back.
Her head hit the mattress and she opened her eyes. She saw her lover's face serene and pleased. He was hunched over her now. The black tips of his long hair almost grazed her forehead as they swayed side to side. She did not hear the door open.
She did not see her husband's face looking in; a face so reviled and twisted with horror, as if he were stabbed in his abdomen with a jagged, adulterated blade.