- There it is wet, - she whispered, panting to it in an ear. - you can check up, it is the truth...
It has touched its cheek:
- You indeed enrage me. You enrage the glamour behaviour, the zakatyvaniem an eye, the foolish ideas. But most of all you
enrage me because that I actually want you. Almost constantly.
- I know, - with a pleased smile have exhaled Santajja. It has raised again a head and in a glamour way has rolled up eyes.
The uvula has touched again a corner of lips.
- Perhaps we love each other? - Has asked She and has there and then cursed itself for similar nonsense.
- I do not love anybody, - have whispered Santajja, having rolled up eyes and moving eyebrows. - I simply want. And what I
want, I always achieve. Always, - with these words it has carried away it to herself.