Post by Domocles on Mar 1, 2015 21:03:23 GMT
Curled up in the corner of my office, I had cried myself to sleep. Fitful dreams from that afternoon invaded my mind. That glace' voice would barely speak and webs entangled me. Umbridge then turned into a spider, and each thrum of the webbing as she skittered along it would send waves of throbbing agony through my very core and uncontrollable urges to succumb to prodding as she came close. Her hairy abdomen and legs were highlighted in pastel pink as her eyes shimmered magenta. But even as much as I felt the need to yield, as I felt the pressure of her engulfing me, I began flailing helplessly. I heard, "Andi...Andi...wake up..."
It wasn't that repulsively syrupy voice anymore, but another familiar one, deeper, steady as it continued, "Andi, please wake up..."
My eyes flew open, as I was still kicking and clawing at the one who was subduing me. Yet those arms drew me in tighter, "Andi, it was bad dream...nothing more."
The concern in his voice as he cloistered me away in his black robes, surrounded by that familiar wood smoke smell ceased my thrashing. I distraughtly spoke his name, "Sevvie..." before nestling into his shoulder, as more sobbing commenced.
He tried to commiserate by tightly clutching me close, as I flinched. My nerves were still badly shocked. He took note and let go, "What's the matter, my dear? You weren't at dinner..."
"I hurt...all over..." I sounded like a simpering child, as I gathered my torn robes that had fallen.
His eyes widened as it dawned on him a little of what transpired. "Let's take care of that first, then we'll talk."
He helped me weakly to my feet before wrapping me in his cloak, and bolstered to cradled me in his arms. "You're coming with me." He carried me through the dark passageways of the castle, the lack of lighting suggesting it was after hours.
The least I could do was flip out my wand and mutter, "lumos" to guide the path.
"Now don't go overexerting yourself."
"I think I can manage a small light spell, Sevvie." I tried to laugh, but had to wince, as we headed down the stairs to the dungeons below.
He sardonically replied, "Yes, I see..." as he seemed to glide downward.
We were at his bed in the west wing of the substructure. He set me down lightly on the fur lined comforter, as I was still huddled in his cloak. He took my lit wand and shuffled around in a drawer of his nightstand before procuring a small vial and handing it to me, "Drink this..."
I popped the cork on it and sniffed at it, noting it smelled of licorice. "What is it?"
"Don't ask questions, just drink it. It will help you feel better, I promise."
On the side, he flicked his wand at the hearth and commanded, "Incendio!"
I trusted him, obviously, and announced, "Down the hatch!" before gulping it down like a shot of Jaegermeister, which it reminded me of. The creak in my joints, the cramps in my muscles, and the feeling of most of my nerves being raw and trampled seemed to fade away substantially. He sat down next to me on the bed, as I laid my head down in his lap.
As those agile fingers stroked through my hair, he stated, "You weren't at dinner, but Dolores was. She seemed to be delighted from stem to stern, and here you've been hit with the cruciatus and Merlin knows what else..."
"Let's just say that 'Mama's Little Love Hand' is not just nonsensical gossip. Also, I've been keeping her occupied to stay out of everyone's hair. It's rather embarrassing and I'd much rather keep it on the down low."
He leaned over to kiss the top of my head, "I can only promise that on one condition, and it's if she doesn't completely cross the line with hurting you. Otherwise, I'm going to have to go to Azkaban for killing a ministry official."
He growled rather possessively as I pushed up to kiss him.
His anger seemed to give way to lust, before he broke the kiss. "Hold on, I'm going to put on some music."
He hopped up from the bed to fiddle with the cassette player I had given him, but was having issues, "How do you work this thing?"
Trying to hold back amused laughter, I sidled over to open it to pop in one of the tapes at the side and hit play. "There, Sevvie..."
A drumming resonated through the stone catacomb, a synthetic organ accompanying it. He raised an eyebrow as I took his hand in mine.
A sense of euphoria mixed in with an arduous hunger overcame me. Almost as if there was a spell in the rhythm. I wanted nothing more than to feel his fingers deftly manipulating my body at this moment.
"A last fire will rise behind those eyes
Black house will rock, blind boys don't lie
Immortal fear, that voice so clear
Through broken walls, that scream I hear"
The same fire that crackled in the hearth was in his eyes, keeping me entranced as we effortlessly slinked back to the bed. His voice was silky-soft, and quiet, and there was something in it that wormed its way under my skin and started to play with my tight-strung nerves, caressed them with something that was a threat and a promise in one. I found myself mesmerized by it, as if it were a silken thread leading me out of the labyrinth of terror in which I had found myself.
And all the while, his dark eyes locked on mine, with something that was at once a plea and a promise. He had bound my wrists to the headboard.
It was a distinct relief when his long fingers brushed over my eyelids, closed them for me. Now there was only that voice, that wonderful, terrible voice....
And then he began to touch me as the vampiric chorus began to swell, the evocative choir sending me to the cosmos.
"Cry, little sister - Thou shall not fall
Come to your brother - Thou shall not die
Unchain me, sister - Thou shall not fear
Love is with your brother - Thou shall not kill"
His hand slipped from my face, down to my throat, as his other hand came to rest on my opposite shoulder. His hands were warm, a welcome contrast to the chill of the dungeon; his touch was firm but very, very gentle... almost as if he thought I was made of glass.
Which wasn't too far from how I felt--- fragile, breakable, as if one wrong move would shatter me. I shivered under his touch, my whole body harp string taut.
And then, slowly, easily, his hands slid lower--- firm strokes, his palms flat against my sides as he traced them down my ribs to my waist, to my hips, to my thighs---
"There," said that promising, threatening voice, "that's better, isn't it? Nothing to fear...."
Unspoken: yet.
His hands came back up my sides, leaving trails of warmth in their wake, making me shiver as they moved and lean into the warmth. This time, when he reached my shoulders, he traced his hands up my arms, bound over my head, his fingers flicking lightly into my hair, then brought his hands back down again to my shoulders, down my sides, then up.... One hand came to rest on my stomach, rubbed a warm circle, before continuing back up my ribs.
And all the while, his voice caressed me, in half-understood whispers, threatened pleasure and promised pain.
My whole being narrowed to that touch, that wasn't pleasure and wasn't pain, that was simply there, and to the voice, guiding me and coaxing me--- I'd never thought his voice could sound like that, never imagined the safety and warmth of his long fingers, and it terrified me and shamed me to be so vulnerable. I tensed with every stroke of his hands, my body wound in knots---
And then, suddenly, a spasm shot through me, a violent seizure like the ones that sometimes wracked me on the verge of sleep, ripping through my bones and startling a little shriek out of me.
In its wake I was limp, like a puppet with its strings cut.
And he laughed, in that silky terrible voice, and murmured, "Felt good, didn't it? Better now?"
I couldn't help but nod. Because I did, because somehow the worst of the shame and the fear had melted with that shudder and I was weak with relief.
He chuckled again, the sound seeming to touch places on my body that I'd never known were there, and murmured, "That's only the beginning...."
"Blue masquerade, strangers look on
When will they learn this loneliness?
Temptation heat beats like a drum
Deep in your veins, I will not lie"
And then his hands resumed their gentle progression along my sides... but with a difference. Now his fingers trailed along my flesh in a whisper of touch, as he left my sides with little flickering caresses, teasing, tempting, promising.... He was coaxing feeling out of spots that I hadn't imagined were this sensitive, warming my chilled skin inside and out....
And it seemed really no time at all before I was arching into those caresses, rubbing myself against his hands, whimpering softly as those wonderful fingers explored my body....
Quite intimately at times--- deft delicate flicks under my breasts, a teasing fingertip brushed over my inner thigh, then quickly withdrawn--- and at times no more than a friendly petting of my thighs or arms or stomach, so that I didn't know when suddenly the warm pleasant stroking would spark into real delight. I could only twist under the caresses and try to guide those hands to the places that wanted touching, could only beg for more....
Sometimes, he obliged... sometimes. Other times he simply laughed, in that silken voice, and scolded gently, so that I lapsed back onto the bed and tried to hold myself still--- anything, anything, to keep him touching me and pleasing me....
Once, he drew his hand along my body, tracing a straight line from the tip of my nose down between my breasts past my navel, pulling away, bit by bit, so that I was forced to arch my back to maintain that delicious contact.
And he laughed, and murmured, "A marionette on strings...." And did it again, and I felt vaguely that I ought to be ashamed, but I couldn't stop myself from rising to meet that touch....
And then, just when I was drowning in the ever more intimate pressure and pleasure of his hands and his voice--- both abruptly went away.
I cried out in the silence, the sound torn from my throat, and he chuckled. "Want more, do you?"
"Yes, oh yes...." I could barely recognize my own voice.
I felt movement, and then his face was very close to mine, his breath warm and smelling of mint and lemon.
"What would you do," he murmured--- cruel parody of intimacy--- "if I asked, hmmm? If I promised you..." a suggestive purr, "more?"
I sobbed aloud. "Anything... anything...."
A long pause, during which I shivered and shook with frustrated want. Then, very softly, ice and silk to my ears.... "Open your eyes. Look at me."
Something told me I shouldn't, it would be a mistake... but the promise and the threat were there, and the thought of those hands was enough to overcome sense.
I opened my eyes.
"Little sister - Thou shall not fall
Come to your brother - Thou shall not die
Unchain me, sister - Thou shall not fear
Love is with your brother - Thou shall not kill"
I gave a little cry and buried my face in one arm, closing my eyes against everything.
And a gentle hand stroked my neck, moved lower to my chest in a warm caress.
I shuddered, and couldn't look up, but that warm feeling was back, reminding me what those hands could do... if I did what he wanted.
"Look at me," he ordered in that silken voice. The hand slid lower--- then stopped, drew away from my straining body. "Look at me."
Slowly, shivering inside, I turned my head, opened my eyes.
He looked back at me, his eyes intent on mine, the mask firmly in place, that little warm glint in his eyes that might be concern and might be something else altogether....
And his hand moved, with unerring instinct, to a very sensitive spot.
He lingered there for an instant, then drew back. "You liked that, didn't you?"
I gasped, nodded, not trusting my voice.
"Say it." That silky-smooth voice brooked no defiance.
"Yes. I liked it." Oh, dear God, I was going to die of shame.
His fingers played over my body again, and, helpless now under his touch, seeking the pleasure as much to escape from this horrid reality as for itself, I twisted up under the caress. It was good, so good....
He chuckled wickedly. "And that?"
"Yes." Don't let him stop, please don't let him stop....
Please let me die, now.
"You want more...." Another lingering caress, the most intimate yet, drawing back quickly before I had a chance to register more than the moment's flash of shameful pleasure. "Don't you?"
I sobbed aloud. "Yes, oh, yes...."
Gentle fingers caught my chin, turned my head. "Look at me when you say it. Look me in the eye and tell me...." He caught his breath. "Tell me you want me."
--- it was true. I did want him, wanted those hands and that voice, had never wanted anything more in my life....
"I want you---" flash of insight, I decided to say it before he could make me, let this one small act be mine to control--- "I want you, S...Severus."
His eyes widened at that--- for a moment, the mask seemed to slip a little, revealing something I couldn't fathom---
And then it was back in place and he laughed, that deep and silken caress. "Good girl," he said softly. "Very good indeed...." Flash of the black eyes. "I think that deserves a little reward, hmm?"
And then his long fingers trailed over my body, stroked down over my stomach... and moved lower.
I arched against the pleasure, rubbing myself up against that light soft touch that teased and promised... and this time, I kept my eyes on his.
"Good girl," he murmured again... and then the caresses deepened in their intensity, weaving a warm cocoon about me that protected me from the fear and the horror that I knew was just on the edge of my awareness, and I gave myself up to it gratefully, because it was safe, because it was a welcome alternative to the horror and the fear. And I let myself yield to the deft fingers bringing a pleasure so intense it was painful....
Suddenly, it was pain, as that caress became a pinch, and I yelped and shivered--- but the pain was almost good, was a relief after the intense delight, and I looked into his eyes and saw the knowing glint and knew he had done it on purpose.
And then for a long time he touched me that way, and now it was truly maddening, because I never knew when the exquisite pleasure would suddenly sharpen into pain, and I sobbed and cried and begged for some relief.
But I never looked away from his eyes.
After a time, I didn't want to, because those eyes caressed me like his hands did, a probing, knowing touch that reached something deep inside of me. And the look in them--- that lingering hint of kindness beneath the glitter--- was like a silken thread and I knew if I followed it, it would lead me to safety.
"My Shangri-Las
I can't forget
Why you were mine
I need you now
Cry, little sister - Thou shall not fall
Come to your brother - Thou shall not die
Unchain me, sister - Thou shall not fear
Love is with your brother - Thou shall not kill"
And slowly, the world blurred into the dark eyes that raked me with caresses and the deep silken voice and those deft knowing fingers that brought me spiraling steadily upward to a kind of delight I had never imagined....
And then all my senses exploded, waves of ecstasy ripping through my body like lightning, and for one shining moment there was nothing but pure physical delight and release---
And then the waves receded and took me with them, down into a dark safe place where there was only warmth and peace....
I awoke later, unbound, and him spooning with me under velvety sheets. I gently kissed his nose and said, "Somebody's been enchanting the music..."
His eyes remained closed, feigning to be asleep, but the smile brought to his lips gave him away as he softly replied, "And who would ever do a thing like that?"
It wasn't that repulsively syrupy voice anymore, but another familiar one, deeper, steady as it continued, "Andi, please wake up..."
My eyes flew open, as I was still kicking and clawing at the one who was subduing me. Yet those arms drew me in tighter, "Andi, it was bad dream...nothing more."
The concern in his voice as he cloistered me away in his black robes, surrounded by that familiar wood smoke smell ceased my thrashing. I distraughtly spoke his name, "Sevvie..." before nestling into his shoulder, as more sobbing commenced.
He tried to commiserate by tightly clutching me close, as I flinched. My nerves were still badly shocked. He took note and let go, "What's the matter, my dear? You weren't at dinner..."
"I hurt...all over..." I sounded like a simpering child, as I gathered my torn robes that had fallen.
His eyes widened as it dawned on him a little of what transpired. "Let's take care of that first, then we'll talk."
He helped me weakly to my feet before wrapping me in his cloak, and bolstered to cradled me in his arms. "You're coming with me." He carried me through the dark passageways of the castle, the lack of lighting suggesting it was after hours.
The least I could do was flip out my wand and mutter, "lumos" to guide the path.
"Now don't go overexerting yourself."
"I think I can manage a small light spell, Sevvie." I tried to laugh, but had to wince, as we headed down the stairs to the dungeons below.
He sardonically replied, "Yes, I see..." as he seemed to glide downward.
We were at his bed in the west wing of the substructure. He set me down lightly on the fur lined comforter, as I was still huddled in his cloak. He took my lit wand and shuffled around in a drawer of his nightstand before procuring a small vial and handing it to me, "Drink this..."
I popped the cork on it and sniffed at it, noting it smelled of licorice. "What is it?"
"Don't ask questions, just drink it. It will help you feel better, I promise."
On the side, he flicked his wand at the hearth and commanded, "Incendio!"
I trusted him, obviously, and announced, "Down the hatch!" before gulping it down like a shot of Jaegermeister, which it reminded me of. The creak in my joints, the cramps in my muscles, and the feeling of most of my nerves being raw and trampled seemed to fade away substantially. He sat down next to me on the bed, as I laid my head down in his lap.
As those agile fingers stroked through my hair, he stated, "You weren't at dinner, but Dolores was. She seemed to be delighted from stem to stern, and here you've been hit with the cruciatus and Merlin knows what else..."
"Let's just say that 'Mama's Little Love Hand' is not just nonsensical gossip. Also, I've been keeping her occupied to stay out of everyone's hair. It's rather embarrassing and I'd much rather keep it on the down low."
He leaned over to kiss the top of my head, "I can only promise that on one condition, and it's if she doesn't completely cross the line with hurting you. Otherwise, I'm going to have to go to Azkaban for killing a ministry official."
He growled rather possessively as I pushed up to kiss him.
His anger seemed to give way to lust, before he broke the kiss. "Hold on, I'm going to put on some music."
He hopped up from the bed to fiddle with the cassette player I had given him, but was having issues, "How do you work this thing?"
Trying to hold back amused laughter, I sidled over to open it to pop in one of the tapes at the side and hit play. "There, Sevvie..."
A drumming resonated through the stone catacomb, a synthetic organ accompanying it. He raised an eyebrow as I took his hand in mine.
A sense of euphoria mixed in with an arduous hunger overcame me. Almost as if there was a spell in the rhythm. I wanted nothing more than to feel his fingers deftly manipulating my body at this moment.
"A last fire will rise behind those eyes
Black house will rock, blind boys don't lie
Immortal fear, that voice so clear
Through broken walls, that scream I hear"
The same fire that crackled in the hearth was in his eyes, keeping me entranced as we effortlessly slinked back to the bed. His voice was silky-soft, and quiet, and there was something in it that wormed its way under my skin and started to play with my tight-strung nerves, caressed them with something that was a threat and a promise in one. I found myself mesmerized by it, as if it were a silken thread leading me out of the labyrinth of terror in which I had found myself.
And all the while, his dark eyes locked on mine, with something that was at once a plea and a promise. He had bound my wrists to the headboard.
It was a distinct relief when his long fingers brushed over my eyelids, closed them for me. Now there was only that voice, that wonderful, terrible voice....
And then he began to touch me as the vampiric chorus began to swell, the evocative choir sending me to the cosmos.
"Cry, little sister - Thou shall not fall
Come to your brother - Thou shall not die
Unchain me, sister - Thou shall not fear
Love is with your brother - Thou shall not kill"
His hand slipped from my face, down to my throat, as his other hand came to rest on my opposite shoulder. His hands were warm, a welcome contrast to the chill of the dungeon; his touch was firm but very, very gentle... almost as if he thought I was made of glass.
Which wasn't too far from how I felt--- fragile, breakable, as if one wrong move would shatter me. I shivered under his touch, my whole body harp string taut.
And then, slowly, easily, his hands slid lower--- firm strokes, his palms flat against my sides as he traced them down my ribs to my waist, to my hips, to my thighs---
"There," said that promising, threatening voice, "that's better, isn't it? Nothing to fear...."
Unspoken: yet.
His hands came back up my sides, leaving trails of warmth in their wake, making me shiver as they moved and lean into the warmth. This time, when he reached my shoulders, he traced his hands up my arms, bound over my head, his fingers flicking lightly into my hair, then brought his hands back down again to my shoulders, down my sides, then up.... One hand came to rest on my stomach, rubbed a warm circle, before continuing back up my ribs.
And all the while, his voice caressed me, in half-understood whispers, threatened pleasure and promised pain.
My whole being narrowed to that touch, that wasn't pleasure and wasn't pain, that was simply there, and to the voice, guiding me and coaxing me--- I'd never thought his voice could sound like that, never imagined the safety and warmth of his long fingers, and it terrified me and shamed me to be so vulnerable. I tensed with every stroke of his hands, my body wound in knots---
And then, suddenly, a spasm shot through me, a violent seizure like the ones that sometimes wracked me on the verge of sleep, ripping through my bones and startling a little shriek out of me.
In its wake I was limp, like a puppet with its strings cut.
And he laughed, in that silky terrible voice, and murmured, "Felt good, didn't it? Better now?"
I couldn't help but nod. Because I did, because somehow the worst of the shame and the fear had melted with that shudder and I was weak with relief.
He chuckled again, the sound seeming to touch places on my body that I'd never known were there, and murmured, "That's only the beginning...."
"Blue masquerade, strangers look on
When will they learn this loneliness?
Temptation heat beats like a drum
Deep in your veins, I will not lie"
And then his hands resumed their gentle progression along my sides... but with a difference. Now his fingers trailed along my flesh in a whisper of touch, as he left my sides with little flickering caresses, teasing, tempting, promising.... He was coaxing feeling out of spots that I hadn't imagined were this sensitive, warming my chilled skin inside and out....
And it seemed really no time at all before I was arching into those caresses, rubbing myself against his hands, whimpering softly as those wonderful fingers explored my body....
Quite intimately at times--- deft delicate flicks under my breasts, a teasing fingertip brushed over my inner thigh, then quickly withdrawn--- and at times no more than a friendly petting of my thighs or arms or stomach, so that I didn't know when suddenly the warm pleasant stroking would spark into real delight. I could only twist under the caresses and try to guide those hands to the places that wanted touching, could only beg for more....
Sometimes, he obliged... sometimes. Other times he simply laughed, in that silken voice, and scolded gently, so that I lapsed back onto the bed and tried to hold myself still--- anything, anything, to keep him touching me and pleasing me....
Once, he drew his hand along my body, tracing a straight line from the tip of my nose down between my breasts past my navel, pulling away, bit by bit, so that I was forced to arch my back to maintain that delicious contact.
And he laughed, and murmured, "A marionette on strings...." And did it again, and I felt vaguely that I ought to be ashamed, but I couldn't stop myself from rising to meet that touch....
And then, just when I was drowning in the ever more intimate pressure and pleasure of his hands and his voice--- both abruptly went away.
I cried out in the silence, the sound torn from my throat, and he chuckled. "Want more, do you?"
"Yes, oh yes...." I could barely recognize my own voice.
I felt movement, and then his face was very close to mine, his breath warm and smelling of mint and lemon.
"What would you do," he murmured--- cruel parody of intimacy--- "if I asked, hmmm? If I promised you..." a suggestive purr, "more?"
I sobbed aloud. "Anything... anything...."
A long pause, during which I shivered and shook with frustrated want. Then, very softly, ice and silk to my ears.... "Open your eyes. Look at me."
Something told me I shouldn't, it would be a mistake... but the promise and the threat were there, and the thought of those hands was enough to overcome sense.
I opened my eyes.
"Little sister - Thou shall not fall
Come to your brother - Thou shall not die
Unchain me, sister - Thou shall not fear
Love is with your brother - Thou shall not kill"
I gave a little cry and buried my face in one arm, closing my eyes against everything.
And a gentle hand stroked my neck, moved lower to my chest in a warm caress.
I shuddered, and couldn't look up, but that warm feeling was back, reminding me what those hands could do... if I did what he wanted.
"Look at me," he ordered in that silken voice. The hand slid lower--- then stopped, drew away from my straining body. "Look at me."
Slowly, shivering inside, I turned my head, opened my eyes.
He looked back at me, his eyes intent on mine, the mask firmly in place, that little warm glint in his eyes that might be concern and might be something else altogether....
And his hand moved, with unerring instinct, to a very sensitive spot.
He lingered there for an instant, then drew back. "You liked that, didn't you?"
I gasped, nodded, not trusting my voice.
"Say it." That silky-smooth voice brooked no defiance.
"Yes. I liked it." Oh, dear God, I was going to die of shame.
His fingers played over my body again, and, helpless now under his touch, seeking the pleasure as much to escape from this horrid reality as for itself, I twisted up under the caress. It was good, so good....
He chuckled wickedly. "And that?"
"Yes." Don't let him stop, please don't let him stop....
Please let me die, now.
"You want more...." Another lingering caress, the most intimate yet, drawing back quickly before I had a chance to register more than the moment's flash of shameful pleasure. "Don't you?"
I sobbed aloud. "Yes, oh, yes...."
Gentle fingers caught my chin, turned my head. "Look at me when you say it. Look me in the eye and tell me...." He caught his breath. "Tell me you want me."
--- it was true. I did want him, wanted those hands and that voice, had never wanted anything more in my life....
"I want you---" flash of insight, I decided to say it before he could make me, let this one small act be mine to control--- "I want you, S...Severus."
His eyes widened at that--- for a moment, the mask seemed to slip a little, revealing something I couldn't fathom---
And then it was back in place and he laughed, that deep and silken caress. "Good girl," he said softly. "Very good indeed...." Flash of the black eyes. "I think that deserves a little reward, hmm?"
And then his long fingers trailed over my body, stroked down over my stomach... and moved lower.
I arched against the pleasure, rubbing myself up against that light soft touch that teased and promised... and this time, I kept my eyes on his.
"Good girl," he murmured again... and then the caresses deepened in their intensity, weaving a warm cocoon about me that protected me from the fear and the horror that I knew was just on the edge of my awareness, and I gave myself up to it gratefully, because it was safe, because it was a welcome alternative to the horror and the fear. And I let myself yield to the deft fingers bringing a pleasure so intense it was painful....
Suddenly, it was pain, as that caress became a pinch, and I yelped and shivered--- but the pain was almost good, was a relief after the intense delight, and I looked into his eyes and saw the knowing glint and knew he had done it on purpose.
And then for a long time he touched me that way, and now it was truly maddening, because I never knew when the exquisite pleasure would suddenly sharpen into pain, and I sobbed and cried and begged for some relief.
But I never looked away from his eyes.
After a time, I didn't want to, because those eyes caressed me like his hands did, a probing, knowing touch that reached something deep inside of me. And the look in them--- that lingering hint of kindness beneath the glitter--- was like a silken thread and I knew if I followed it, it would lead me to safety.
"My Shangri-Las
I can't forget
Why you were mine
I need you now
Cry, little sister - Thou shall not fall
Come to your brother - Thou shall not die
Unchain me, sister - Thou shall not fear
Love is with your brother - Thou shall not kill"
And slowly, the world blurred into the dark eyes that raked me with caresses and the deep silken voice and those deft knowing fingers that brought me spiraling steadily upward to a kind of delight I had never imagined....
And then all my senses exploded, waves of ecstasy ripping through my body like lightning, and for one shining moment there was nothing but pure physical delight and release---
And then the waves receded and took me with them, down into a dark safe place where there was only warmth and peace....
I awoke later, unbound, and him spooning with me under velvety sheets. I gently kissed his nose and said, "Somebody's been enchanting the music..."
His eyes remained closed, feigning to be asleep, but the smile brought to his lips gave him away as he softly replied, "And who would ever do a thing like that?"
