I apologize for taking so long to update…the summer heat fried my brain. Then again, this chapter might be just hot enough to frazzle some of yours. Written heavily under the influence of Shakira's song "La Tortura". Have fun, kiddies…

Sorielle's bare feet pattered across the cold tile floor of the kitchen. She set a large, water-filled pot on a hook in the fireplace and lit a fire using the flint above the mantel. There was something therapeutic about striking the steel against the flint, causing the spark to set the tinder aflame, as opposed to using Charter Magic. She broke off some herbs from the hand-woven basket on the hearth, sprinkling them into the water. Then, Sorielle brushed the remaining crumbs off of her hands and began to cut up the vegetables. Celery, carrots, corn, potatoes, and green beans all went into the pot of now simmering water and the stew's delicious aroma began to permeate throughout the tiny kitchen.

She began to chop the onions, the fumes from their bitter juice causing her tears to well up in her eyes. She wiped the tears that ran down her cheeks with the back of her hand. Then, real tears started to pour and she let them fall.

Damn it. That dream keeps on bringing back something I'm not still supposed to feel. That lustful wicked night was supposed to make me forget, but I can only remember. The memory of Machel only brings back the memory of my love for Jasaad. Damn it all.

She scooped up the onions and dropped them into the broth. Sorielle plucked two tomatoes from an overhanging wicker basket and began to chop them up, too. All of the sudden, she felt two familiar arms encircle her waist and a familiar mouth began to kiss her neck. He continued to kiss her there as one of his hands moved up the front of her dress, then slipped down in her bodice to possess her breasts. She moaned as she felt her nipples grow hard; he was stroking one with his thumb. Sorielle's breathing became heavier, and she accidentally crushed one of the tomatoes, an effect of the pleasure coursing through her, causing the juice to spurt all over her hands.

"Jasaad!" she panted, whirling around in his arms and lifting her hands in surprise. He took her fingers into his mouth, sucking off the juice, and then licking the seeds off her palms. Then he smiled at her mischievously.

"Did you miss me?"

"How did you…"

"Shh!" he interrupted, kissing her until she blushed. "I'm here now, that is all that matters."

He removed the circlet and the pins that held her coifed hair atop her head, causing it to tumble down in a cascade of raven curls. He grabbed hold of her shoulders, pulling her to him, and kissed her once again, his tongue plundering her mouth, rediscovering what he had known so well and reclaiming what he had been missing. He pushed the sleeves of her gown off her shoulders as they both sank down to the floor. She lay back against the cabinet, panting heavily, and looking at him with the strangest mixture of love and lust in her eyes.

"I'm sorry that I ever left. I still want you. Do you love me?"

"Yes, a resounding yes, and I'm going to make love to you on every available surface in your apartments. First and foremost, on your kitchen floor."

"Really? You do really love me?"

"Yes, darling. I'm so sorry that I said those things to you. I love you." He kissed her again, and then grinned impishly. "There's no reason to stop here."

She gasped again as her held her captive against the cabinet and left his mark on her neck. Skin bruised by passion as it had been bruised so many times before. She arched her back as he pulled the bodice of her dress below her breasts, nibbling, and then sucking hard.

"Ja-Jasaad!" she breathed. Now, she wanted him, needed him more than she ever had before; separation was unbearable. He loved her now. She clasped her hands at her chest as he let go and lifted her back to a kneeling position. Now, their noses were almost touching they were in such a close proximity. Jasaad smirked.

"Yes, my Sora?"

"Oh, do call me that again!'

"Sora?"

"Oh yes." She exclaimed, and then leapt at him, ripping open his shirt as they fell backwards. For the first time, she made her mark on his neck. He pulled his shirt off, and then pulled her simple dress and chemise over her head his slender hands reached for her naked breasts, caressing and kneading them with expert skill. He slammed her against a cabinet and she screamed in as much pain as pleasure. He kissed her gently on the mouth while two of his fingers entered her moist womanhood. His tongue slid into her mouth as a third finger slid in, she writhed beneath his touch, his tongue pressed into her mouth as his fingers stroked within her. His other hand squeezed her derriere. His tongue and hers danced back and forth in a fiery, hungry dance of passion, He withdrew his fingers and placed them in his mouth, incensing her as he sucked her wetness off. Mean while, he unbuckled and slipped off his trousers and boots.

"Please. I've waited so long." She whimpered.

He kissed Sorielle savagely, and then shoved her onto the cold tile floor. He grabbed her buttocks, and then clasped her to him as he drove his hardened length into her. She shrieked in joy. They tumbled about on the floor, legs entangled, bodies united, mouths locked. On moment he was on top of her, the next she was riding him. They knocked into the cabinets quite a few times during their odyssey; a perpetually-shifting embrace.

Jasaad stood up, then, pulling Sorielle with him, keeping himself hard within her, leaned against the wall. She rubbed against his chest, leaning up on her toes, pulling his manhood up in an excruciatingly sweet stretch. He groaned, then ran his hands up the backs of her thighs and grabbed her rump. She squealed in delight, and then wrapped one leg around his thigh. He flipped her so that she was pressed against the wall, pounding her endlessly. She screamed in ecstasy, trembling. She climaxed with an exploding shudder, still shivering as he planted his seed deep within her. They both sank to the floor, exhausted by their violent acts of passion, and he rolled away, laying back.

"I'm so tired. We should really get into bed; it's no use to sleep on the kitchen floor." She sighed.

"Nonsense, dear. I actually feel rather energized by it."

"You're insane." She moaned, her eyes closing.

"Alright then, my sleepy Sora." He stood up, scooping her up, piled their discarded clothes atop her, and then carried her back to her bedroom as she directed him. He pulled back the covers and they both climbed beneath the goose down quilt. She closed her eyes, senseless and too tired to think. Something in her bedside manner disturbed him. He roused the drowsy Abhorsen.

"Mmm?"

"Sorielle, were you well while I was gone?"

"Yes, just dandy." She murmured. Suddenly he shot up and held her against the mattress. Her eyes opened wide with surprise and fear.

"Jasaad, what are you…"

"You were with another man, weren't you?"

"Jasaad, I don't…"

"Who touched you, Sorielle? Did he do it like me?"

"Jasaad, I…"

"Tell me, love, did he kiss you here?" He kissed her crudely on the mouth, jamming his tongue between her lips, then pulling her lower lips into his mouth and releasing it slowly.

"Did he do this?" he pinched her nipples until she moaned with delicious pain, then caressed then and suckled on them hard.

"Please." She begged. "Don't!"

"Why? Did he touch you here?" His eyes were smoldering, indigo in anger. He slid his fingers harshly into her vagina and she writhed beneath the touch of her cruel tempter. He was not acting like the man she loved, he was acting like a man consumed in a fit of jealous rage. He was assaulting her with his fingers, but she secretly delighted in the plunder as he held her against the mattress with his other hand.

"Touch me, Sorielle. Did he make you touch him?" He placed her hand at his belt buckle, forcing her to unbuckle his pants and reach inside. She shook her head in incompliance. "Yes. Grab me." He forced her fingers to close around his manhood. He was hard again and cruelly forcing her to remember betraying him. Torment, such torment.

"Yes! Yes, I went to the bed of another man! But I thought you didn't love me!" she cried.

"Since when did that matter to you?"

"I'm sorry." She sobbed. "Please forgive me. I swear I'll never let another man touch me again!"

"I don't blame you, Sora dear, but I must rid you of his touch."

Rough and still tender, he drove himself into her harder than he ever had before. Tears were at the corners of her eyes from his forcefulness, but conceding, she lay limply and bit her lip to keep from crying out. Sorielle understood that letting him have his way with her was the only way to purge him off his jealousy, so she allowed him the release of his tension. So this is what it means to be made love to until the brink of insanity. At last, he came within her and let her be.

She snuggled closer to him to show her apology and her forgiveness, and he cradled her in his arms. She was aching now, but was not going to complain about the violence of their lovemaking.

"Did you scream for him like you do for me, my love?"

"Never as much." She whispered. They seemed to be the words that he needed to hear. His eyes returned to their normal shade of ice. "I love only you."

"I know, darling, I know."

He realized how much he might have hurt her when he was exhibiting his jealous, lustful rage. He made love to her one final time. Now, it was all murmurs of sweet endearments, gentle caresses, and tender, sweet kisses. Their bodies made a slow, sensual rhythm that whispered of love joyous and tender. This was his apology.

The next morning, they awoke late, tangled in each other's arms beneath the covers.

"You weren't lying when you said that you were carnally indefatigable."

"I don't lie."

"Jasaad, something has been bothering me for quite some time." She spoke, fidgeting, turning his fingers over in her palm.

"Yes?" he asked, kissing her gently on the forehead.

"Before you told me that Jasaad wasn't your actual name."

"Oh. I did lie about that."

"Then you must have really trusted me."

"Mmm? Oh yes."

She sat up abruptly. "My soup!"

"You mean you left it burning all night?"

"Oh well, never mind. The servants probably took care of it."

"Won't they be surprised to find a strange man in your bed?'

"If they are they'll keep it to themselves."

He chuckled then began to kiss her again.

See? See? I told you it was hot. Now review or die as I cackle madly at my own awesomeness. Okay, I admit I'm not awesome in the slightest, but be happy because they're back together and review!