Clandestine | 18+

33~ War in Love - Part 2

Lilith- Saint Avangeline
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"The siren lures you in, but the temptation isn't worth your blood."
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He touched my skin, so softly, like porcelain, until he reached the zipper.

I held my breath.

Because I felt I was loosing all control I had over myself.

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He slowly pulled the zipper down, the sound of it the only noise inside the quiet dark hotel room. My lips softly parted, and my eyes closed for a brief second.

No. I should stop this.

But somewhere, deep inside my stomach, a burning feeling, like acid, convinced me to end his life after I felt his touch on my skin first.

And I was almost growing impatient.

I half opened my eyes as he turned the zipper all the way down, but didn't let my dress fall to the floor. With his left hand, he was holding my dress from the front, and with his right hand, trailing his middle finger softly on my back. So, so softly.

Almost like he wanted me to go insane.

My breathing hitched, my eyes fighting to stay open, my skin burning in the places he touched, left behind.

He was treating me like porcelain, like I would break if he pressed too hard. But, I knew what he was trying to do. Make me go crazy. Make me beg.

The only source of light, coming from the floor to ceiling window, fell on his left hand which was holding my corset up as he was trailing lower on my back.

I couldn't see his face, but I knew it would look calculated, emotionless, and the only source of emotion could only be recognised in his eyes.

A shiver ran down my spine. I felt his presence in my neck, his breath hitting a spot beneath my ear. My lower lip trembled, and I feared the need I was feeling. I was needing.

But he didn't talk, no, he kept doing slow touches, hitting me with his hot breath in sensitive places, but never removing my dress completely, or touching my skin with his mouth.

I opened my lips to talk, but I refused to beg. Refused to show how much I wanted it and closed them again, but I couldn't stop how my eyes did the same. How I tried opening them but they could only stay half open.

Dear God, I have read the Bible over and over again, I have felt your presence by my side, my belief over you never fading. What did I do to feel this? To need this? To crave this?

Is this a lesson? A curse, or both tied in one, twisted and knotted inside my heart, to poison me and remove any feeling from it? To make me learn not to trust? Not to believe?

Haven't I done that already, dear God? Haven't I killed emotions and people, removed them as if they never existed? Do I need to suffer more?

While these thoughts were spiralling inside my mind, my insides were burning, my skin in particular, and my knees were closer to jelly than bones, strength wanting to leave me and put all my trust in Pierce.