Stealing, staring, hinting, anticipation, eyes, lips, hearts, bodies, nakedness, sounds of satisfaction, lips, his name is shouted out loud like a prayer in the hymns of pleasure of love and ecstasy, need, those nights still play the unique repetitions like the sun rising and running to the other part of the earth and the moon dancing uniquely in its presence at night⎯like the waves of the sea that clash in the ebb and flow under the moon’s gravity and the hissing of the winds in front of the shore opposite the Great House of the God.

His face buried deep in the crook of your fair, kind neck like a white cloth for his artist hands to willingly rub against his twisted desires repressed for years, polluting innocence and sucking the young elixir that oozes from you like an endless spring, enough wine for him to get drunk and die greedily drunk on, his soft, prickly beard tickling your soft shoulder and cheek.

Your golden ruby earrings, the cold metal caressing his bearded cheek, his strong, lean body hugging your body tightly under the red fur covers⎯the sinful red similar to the ruin of their forbidden love, between youth and the greedy rush of lust and love⎯he was forbidden, poisoned like the apple of Eden, he was expelled from God's mercy for good when his lips touched your red lips that bore the redness of the sacred apple of Eden.

A girl from a famous velvet aristocratic family, a pure virgin who had not been touched by a man's hand since her birth, and yet she seemed an angel with devil's horns, creeping her way like a running deer into the depths of his heart without stopping till she reached the cold, solid core.

The first female to shake Vito's being and drag him from the robes of purity, faith and deep commitment to wrinkled bed covers and screams of pleasure and hot happiness, whispers of love and deep, fierce passion.

“Mhm⎯baby, don’t move.”

His deep, rumbling voice sends shivers down your spine like lightning, his lips peppering hot, passionate kisses along the crown of your throat and up.