BTT Chapter 5: The Art Of Soul Stitching
Her body was so soft—so impossibly soft—that for a moment I forgot she was human. She felt celestial, warm, plush… crafted for pleasure, sculpted for worship. While my thoughts were easy to gather, my breath refused to cooperate. But honestly, breathing wasn’t anywhere on my priority list.
What I wanted… what I needed… was another full look at the goddess lying beside me.
I turned my head and found her already watching me.
Those eyes.
Those eyes were the reason kingdoms fell, ships sailed, and weak men folded. And right then, the way she looked at me—like I was something rare, something chosen—made every doubt I carried melt into nothing.
“In your grace and beauty,” I whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, “I swear you embody divine perfection. There’s nothing in God’s universe that compares to you.”
She blinked slowly, her lips curling with that satisfied smile of a woman who knows her lover just had his soul stolen.
“Don’t say things like that…” she murmured, sliding her fingertips across my jaw. “You’ll make me fall deeper.”
“You already have,” I whispered, leaning in.
Our lips met—slow, warm, lingering. She kissed me as if she were reclaiming me… like she was sealing her name into my spirit with every press of her mouth. Her tongue brushed mine, soft and teasing, and the warmth of it made every nerve in my body stand at attention.
When our foreheads rested together, she exhaled, “You feel too good… your touch does something to my insides.”
Her voice.
God… her voice.
I pulled her closer until her bare chest pressed against mine. The sheen of sweat on her mocha-golden skin glistened like jewels, catching the slices of sunlight that slipped through the blinds. She shimmered—literally shimmered—like a masterpiece under museum lights.
“You’re unreal,” I breathed out, sliding a hand over her hip and up her waist. “Look at you…”
She giggled—soft, breathy, irresistible—and traced her nails up my chest.
“And look at you,” she whispered back, placing a slow kiss right below my neck. “You keep making me want another taste.”
Her words sent a subtle throb through me.
I took my finger, ran it down the faint trail of sweat and creme gliding along her stomach, and lifted it to my lips. She watched me… watched every movement with sharp, hungry interest.
“Mmm…” I whispered. “You taste better every time.”
Her breath caught.
“You can’t just say things like that and expect me to behave.”
“I’m not asking for your best behavior,” I murmured, pulling her chin gently so she’d look at me again. “I’m asking for your eyes.”
She held them on me—steady, intimate, warm—and the connection surged through us like our hearts were syncing. For a moment, the room felt still, like everything bowed to the rhythm we created.
She rested her head on my chest, skin hot and soft against mine.
“I feel like…” she began, trailing her fingers over my sternum, “…our hearts are doing the same thing.”
“What thing?” I asked, kissing the top of her head.
“That thing where they match each other,” she whispered. “Like they’re harmonizing.”
I tightened my hold around her waist.
“You think we’ve synced?”
“I know we have.”
She lifted her head, and our faces were so close our noses brushed.
Then she kissed me again—slow, deep, claiming. A kiss that made time hesitate. A kiss that tasted like gratitude, desire, destiny.
“Your heart,” she murmured against my lips, “beats like it’s been waiting for mine.”
“And yours,” I whispered back, “sounds like it’s calling me home.”
We stayed tangled, sweaty, glowing, breathless, and completely unbothered by every promise, rule, or reality outside that room.
Nothing had weight but us.
Nothing had meaning but her.
And in that moment, holding her, tasting her breath on my lips, feeling her heartbeat syncing with mine…
it felt entirely possible that lovers really could bend the laws of the universe.
Hearts aligning.
Breaths merging.
Souls stitching.
Maybe it wasn’t a myth.
Maybe it wasn’t fantasy.
Maybe we really had tapped into the rhythm that pulsed behind the sun… the same rhythm that powered heaven’s clock.
