Viola grace saguinary.., p.29
Viola Grace - Saguinary Seduction, page 29
“I’m never going to let you go.”
She jerked her head up so they could look at each other and the love he saw in her eyes humbled him. “So you don’t any regrets about what just happened.”
“Regrets?” He gave her a tender kiss. “For the first time since I can remember, I don’t have any.”
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Revenant
German Bradley
t was pouring in Edinburgh that evening. Giles McKee was Istanding by the large window of his bedroom, gazing at the silver drops that, one after another, fell on the glass and ran down to finally dissolve on the white window frame.
The city looked sad. His coal black beard and moustache on his square-jawed face concealed his grief stacked up on his soul through the years. He turned his head and looked at his unmade bed, but his mind was wandering. Once again, his thoughts travelled to his abiding past.
“We’ve got tickets for the show at the theatre, haven’t we?” said Amanda, reminding him of that day’s plans.
Giles’s drowsy eyes opened wide when looking at his watch. “Jesus, you’re right. If we hurry we’ll be on time for the show and…a little surprise for you. ”
Naked and still dizzy with champagne, they rose from the bed, hastening to fetch their clothes, tossed outside on the treads and along the banister of the stairs like a sample of their previous and imperative passion.
“Oh, gosh. My head is killing me. Don’t move, honey, don’t move,”
he said, reeling toward her. But he lost his footing. In lieu of stretching his dull arms to look for her support, he pushed her down the stairs. It was as quick as a blink. He tried to grasp at her, holding himself fast to the newel, but she slipped away, leaving him aghast at the last step while his 263
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wife lay on her back with a lifeless look in her blue eyes and a thick stream of blood running from her mouth.
And there he remained, crouched against the balusters with his head between his hands, shivering in shock, fabricating an alternative scene in his mind in which he saw his wife standing up, laughing at his fear, saying that it all was a mere practical joke in their cotton wedding anniversary day.
Tears trickled down Giles’s cheeks as his past refused to give him peace of mind.
It was getting dark outside and the rain still dashed against the window of his Georgian house. Giles stepped to his brass-framed bed and sat on it, his tearful eyes fixed on the wooden floor of his bedroom.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Giles. She broke her neck.”
The doctor’s words fell like a hammer on his head and on his sting.
Deep within, his soul began to break down like an old unoccupied building, eroded by the weight of his guilt.
“You can’t think of Amanda forever. She’s gone.”
He knew his friends had been trying to help, but an idée fixe had grown like a lethal infection inside his soul over those years as well—an idea that returned stamina to his spirit by blinding his reasoning, showing him a way to get forgiveness from beyond.
“It’s not good to live in the past. It was five years ago,” his friends would say.
“How can I forget her if she’s in my dreams every night?”
“Just look at yourself. You look homeless.”
“I can’t stay at home anymore,” he lied. “There’re so many memories.”
“Just sell it all and start a new life.”
“I can’t,” he lied again. “There’s no life without her. It’s just crap.
Everything’s fucking crap.”
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What a pack of lies he told them all that time. Oh, yes. He was full of lies.
He remembered how he refused every single invitation, every time they wanted to introduce him to new people, and even that time when they had come to his house with a couple of call girls to spur his almost withering passion. But he’d been a real bastard, a fucking liar afraid of spoiling his secret, keeping himself in the lee of that false melancholy. It was worth being, though. He had achieved happiness again.
Giles and Amanda had always been kindred souls. She was the central event of his life. There had always been a preternatural understanding of each other. She was like him in so many respects that their relationship had turned into a magnetic and almost umbilical fascination.
He looked out the window again. The rain had stopped washing Kerr Street, leaving just streaks on the window pane.
His mind was still in his past when the creaking sound of the bedroom door opening behind him brought his thought back to the present. A soft strawberry perfume flooded the entire room.
“Recollecting memories again?”
He turned around and his eyes met his wife leaning against the door, glaring up at him with those lovely blue eyes of hers.
She looked utterly surreal and sexy, clad in that buckle up leather and chain kitten strap body harness. The same harness she used for his birthday night party six years ago.
“I was waiting for you,” he said, looking at the skin-tight leather high boots she shod and the lace-up elbow-length gloves that covered her arms. Her skin and her exposed athletic breasts were as pale as death except for the deep pink colour of her nipples and areolas. “But I can’t help going back to our past.” He remembered quite well she had driven him delirious with lust at that time. He had always enjoyed her lusty games.
She just smiled and approached him. Their eyes locked. A polar fire danced inside those mesmeric eyes of hers. Giles knew her eyes could drink his soul and he knew he would 265
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allow himself to be drowned in that fire any time she wished.
“I heard your calling, darling,” she said. Her cultured voice had made him blink himself back from the trance. “I know how much you loved it when I dressed in this garb. I need you, darling. I’ve come to ease your sorrows.”
He had never been able to know whether the sound of her voice was real or fabricated, but he was sure about one thing, anyway. There was love in her voice, love and concern.
She softly pulled him backward, making him lie on the white cotton bedspread. The smell of her perfume was much stronger now, heady. She leaned over him and he felt her cold breath upon his throat. He didn’t even care about that coldness, though. He felt as if he were entranced. And he liked it.
Her crimson lips began to kiss his neck as her hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt and the zipper of his jeans. Amanda’s soft feather-like kisses seemed to flutter over his neck, throat and chest until her mouth found his.
“I would never leave you alone in here,” she whispered and kissed him fully. Their tongues met and interlocked as passion broke over them. Giles’s hands looked for her breasts framed in that body harness of hers and cupped them, softly at first, but then his fingers started to paw them deeply and hard enough to make her scream.
“Suck, darling. Suck,” she said, brushing her breasts over his beard, over his face. Her nipples were already erect.
His tongue encircled her nipples and drew each of them in turn into his mouth.
“There, darling. Suck hard. I like it when you suck hard.”
His cheeks hollowed as he drew harder and harder. He was sick with wanting her.
“Bite my teats, darling. Bite them.”
Amanda’s nipples had turned into stone-solid cherries. He could even feel them pulsing in his mouth. His cock was already pulsating, fully erect in one of her hands, free from the confinement of his jeans zipper.
“It’s so beautiful, darling,” she said and pushed herself away 266
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from him, releasing his cock. “Would you just let me admire it?” She sat up in bed by his side and gazed at his circumcised shaft. “I’m glad to see you’re still wearing the cock plug I bought for you in our last wedding anniversary.” Her blue eyes fixated on the snake-like brass cock plug tightly coiled around the ridge where the head joined the shaft. “I love that bulbous head and its jewellery.”
“It’s been very stimulating,” said Giles and raised himself on his elbows to look down at the urethral plug imbedded inside his cock. “An agony, indeed, that has become harder and harder for me to prolong. Look, it’s given me such an erotic feeling that I can’t stop leaking precum almost every day.”
A clear, honey-like glob of juice had already begun to flow from the opening in the tip of his glans. Giles’s entire cock was glistening with it and so were his hairless balls.
“This game is for serious players, darling.”
“Come here, baby. Let me show you how serious I am.”
Amanda took off his jeans and stood in front of him, her eyes blazing with lust . “I can’t wait to be filled by your cock.”
She started to touch herself between her legs. “My juices are flowing as well. Can’t you see?”
Giles noticed the pink of her labia was totally exposed.
Silver hoops pierced her already stretched labia minora, forming a sort of labia leash attached to her harness.
“Don’t you like what you see?”
“Oh, yes. Very much. Go for it, baby.”
“Lie flat on your back.”
She straddled him facing away from him. Her knees rested on the bed as she lowered her pussy onto his cock. It was such a good view of Amanda’s ass and pussy that Giles couldn’t wait any longer. Once again, her presence had managed to excite him to fever pitch. He felt one of her hands easing his cock into her. Unconsciously, his hips started to thrust upward, burying his shaft within her cold but throbbing sheath. But she made him wait as if she were testing his size and girth, wandering what pace to set. She leaned forward and used her 267
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arms to support her weight. She slowly began to use her hips to raise and lower herself on his cock.
“Oh, shit.”
The sensation the urethral plug was giving him was utterly exquisite and painful. His motion became more and more frenzied. She pumped her bottom cheeks up and down, quicker and quicker, increasing those painful sensations inside him. With every thrust from her, his cock bent one way or the other.
“Oh, baby. I love your cock. Oh, it’s so good.”
“Oh, shit. Oh, fucking shit.”
He closed his eyes, jerking his hips upward. It was good to feel her softness again.
“Fuck me, Giles,” she whispered. “Make me yours again.
All yours.”
He pushed her up and let her drop hard on his cock. In fact, his own balls seemed to be swallowed up inside her pussy.
“Fuck me, fuck me.” He heard her scream. “Oh, baby.
Fuck me. Don’t stop, please. Don’t stop.”
She ground into him. He gripped her sides so that he went deeper and deeper into her as she clawed at the sheets.
“Don’t stop, baby. Don’t stop!” She screamed on, fiercely writhing and twisting her body under his pumping. Her pussy had turned into a mouth. It worked on his cock as if it were a mouth, swallowing and sucking. Her muscles were like a tongue, licking and pressing his cock, forcing him to spend.
But he couldn’t. Not with her on top at least.
She rose from him and crouched on all fours on the bed with her legs slightly spread. Giles knelt behind her, still wearing his shirt. He began to take her with such vigour that she couldn’t prevent herself from screaming.
“Oh yes, yes! Bang it into me!”
His thrusts were bestial. Their bed squeaked beneath them.
He was enjoying the animal that had taken over. However, it wasn’t enough to empty himself inside her.
“Give it to me! Give it to me!”
Giles had already heard her groan through three or four 268
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orgasms, but he couldn’t come. It didn’t matter how savage or aggressive his thrusts were. There was no way for him to come.
He felt close to orgasm anyway. His nerve-endings tingled.
Electric currents ran through him, his heart was ready to give out. Although his flesh couldn’t contain all the seed that flowed inside him, he wasn’t able to release it.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
* * * *
Exhausted and panting, Amanda let her legs give way and lay face downward on the bed. Suddenly, a fearsome pain gripped her. Her veins seemed to scream with agony. Her heart stopped, but she continued to live and breathe.
“It’s happening again,” she managed to say. “It’s happening again.”
Little by little her torture turned to ecstasy and her senses filled with vibrancy. Her soul was pulled to another world, a world she’d been before. A completely new plane of existence crowded with withered and shrunken horrors, shrouded in tatters, depicting desiccated human faces as decorations on their shoulders—the spectres of Undeath.
Her soul attracted those spectres. She tried to fend them off as they floated around her, but she wasn’t prepared for such a thing. She was too weak and fragile. “His seed. I need his seed.”
She knew Giles’s seed was some sort of drug that would have helped her keep those spectres at bay. It was too late, though. They had already broken through her defences, possessing her unprotected soul. They needed blood to ease their suffering and pain. And so did she, for their pain was hers now.
Although she wasn’t looking at Giles she could hear his heart beating fast inside his chest. She could even feel his fear, and that fear stirred up her thirst. She turned around and saw him standing behind her, shaking. His cock was still enlarged.
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He moved his mouth to speak, but she heard nothing. She was deaf to anything except the sound of his blood running through his arteries. Actually, the sound drove her crazy.
Amanda sat down and hissed. Her nails turned into claws.
He stepped backward, but his bare foot tripped over his own jeans and he fell full-length on the wooden floor. She leaped forward and was on top of him in a second, parting his legs, kissing the inside of his thighs and teasing him with the tip of her tongue. His cock was soft now, his juices were still oozing.
Her claws took a firm hold of his thighs and sank her fangs into his flesh. New sensations raced through her body as his blood coursed through her veins. The spectres inside her soul grinned with delight, but they wanted more. Amanda needed more. Giles was just a nibble. There were so many people to choose in Edinburgh, so much blood.
* * * *
Morning sunlight had already streamed in his bedroom when Giles’s eyes snapped open again. His head was a mess of thoughts and the light coming from his window really annoyed him. His body howled with an inner agony that became more and more familiar to him. He rolled himself in the handmade duvet and covered his face to continue sleeping. A cold and wet sensation on the inside of his legs woke him, bringing his consciousness back in a rush. “It can’t be,” he said and sat on the bed, drawing back the duvet.
“It’s happened again. It’s happened again.” He gazed down at his groin and saw fresh stains of blood on the sheets. The previous night’s experience had left two new small wounds on the inside of his left thigh and the brass cock plug still inserted in his meatus. His cock was half-swollen. A fine long string of precum continued draining out of his head. He removed the urethral plug gently, trying not to pay attention to the stimulating sensation the action was giving him.
He stepped out of the bed and walked to the window. The 270
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sky above was clear blue. “I’m afraid, Amanda. Is this the penance I’ve got to pay?”
The coldness of the room made his body shudder, but he couldn’t cope with his anguish. Deep inside he knew he was sick, sick with love for his long lost wife and afraid of the new creature he’d brought back from the other side as well.
Jareth’s persuasive words and his own pang were forcing his memories back in time when he swore an oath with the black magic powers, almost a year ago.
“You sure you want her back?”
He and Jareth had met at Amanda’s gravesite in Mortonhall Cemetery. It was a bright winter day when the air was crisp and cold. He’d been waiting in front of Amanda’s grey granite headstone where he had read the cut and painted letters of her memorial inscriptions a hundred times at least.
In loving memory of
AMANDA McKEE
Who died 16th April 2008
Aged 34
Beloved wife of
GILES McKEE
Always remembered
“You sure you understand what you’re asking me to do?” Jareth asked while they walked along the gravel path.
He had said yes to all her questions. He had abjured his faith. He had even sworn to give his mind, body and soul unreservedly to Hecate, the Queen of the phantom world, so that Jareth, her last surviving priestess, could raise up his beloved wife.
“We must call forth the goddess, Giles. The ceremony must be done on an island in the north. We must travel there.”
He had paid a fortune for a trip in which he and the priestess had travelled from Edinburgh to Aberdeen, where they took the Northlink Ferries to continue their journey to the Orkney island of Papa Westray.
She had just carried a bag and an ancient book she never left behind. On the other hand, his luggage was just a portrait of his wife.
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“Have you ever been to this island before?” she’d asked when arriving.
“No, never.”
“Tonight there will be nobody else here but you and me.”
The place was called The Knap of Howar and it was a Neolithic stone-built structure without roof, buried under the sand dunes of the seashore. According to Jareth, Hecate herself had built that place.
They waited for the ferry to depart and stayed at the low entrance doorway of the ruins, completely alone and exposed to the full force of the black ocean and the strong wind. It was a mad place, indeed. He was scared to death.
