What do you expect to see when you open your eyes?
Open your eyes and raise your head above the water just long enough for that one sharp breath. Fill your lungs with air enough to sustain you before going under once more. Can you taste the salty memory of salvation upon your lips?
Open your eyes and await the anointing. The cool touch of lips on your forehead, benedictions in fingers that bless in heat. Once. Twice. Three times. The marks that are left cannot be seen by the naked eye.
Open your eyes.
See what I see.
And know the truth.
***
Read this first.
She presses back into the chair behind you as if trying to escape. Her hands are tied, the same as yours; her fingers find your own, entangling themselves in a grip too strong to break. A creak of the chair. A soft mewling of desperation. Fingers clench yours.
You feel her need like your own. Neither of you can hide from the growing darkness within the room. You do understand, don’t you? I am using her to get to you.
And I am using you, to make her mine.
Does this make it worse? Knowing what is in store for you? When you hear the long shuddering breath – when you feel it, do you connect this with the fact my face is now nestled intimately between her thighs? Reminding her that there is more then one gateway to heaven?
It does. It does make it worse. No need to say it aloud. Not yet. Just sit still and feel it. Spasmodic pulses of desire through the grip she has on you. It is tearing you apart to know just how fucking close I am.
Would it help if I told you she needs it? Not more then you, perhaps. But as much. Don’t believe me? Listen to her ragged breathing.
Need. Her skin is slick with it.
An evil thought – how hauntingly decadent you would look draped over her thighs, bent and exposed – your face pressed firmly to her breasts while I stood behind you both and brought to the surface the imperfect imaginings of a perfect lust.
To be continued…
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