Page 67 of Prayer of the Damned
If he sees me in the role of the villain, then I’ll play the part. Either way, I’ve got mere hours left in this world. No time for remorse. It’s time to take everything he’ll agree to give me.
“Fuck…” he blurts out between the heavy panting his silent lungs produce.
My blood is hot, my skin is burning. If his gaze alone scorches me, what might his touch do to me?
I sit before him, spread out, offering myself, but he still refuses to be tempted. I run a single finger between my folds, then raise it to his lips.
“Just a little taste…”
His eyes hover over my body. He runs his tongue over his lips, and that’s all it takes to defrost him out of his petrified position, and he pounces on me like I’m his last meal. His lips are on my breasts, licking and sucking my nipples, and I grunt like we’re the last two people on Earth.
“Oh God!” My groans encourage him and he aggressively grasps my thighs. I gladly accept the pain of his touch. He licks my skin savagely, like a wild beast in the throes of madness. How the hell could he believe anything happening here was bad? I’ve never felt so alive, so needed. Part of something powerful, like finally understanding there’s meaning to my life. I arch my back as he bites my nipple, and the moans my throat produces sound like a prayer I send skywards. Because who else could create such pure sensation if not for the king of the holy ones? “God in Heaven,” I whine as his lips brush down my belly more ravenously than I knew was possible. Sharp pulses of needwhip between my legs and I swim in the ocean of desire Bar is drowning me in.
I’ve finally jumped into the water. I’ve decided to live.
I’m lost, surrendering to his touch. For a moment I think I’m losing my grip on the land of Adam, as his lips meet my pussy and a scream erupts from the darkest, most hidden places in me. “Oh God!” I arch my back, my head rolls back, and I grunt as he sucks on my pulsing clit, throbbing just for him, throbbing just because of him. “Bar… Bar…” I praise his name and writhe in sensual intoxication as he uses my body as he pleases.
“Fuck, you’re so sweet, my personal forbidden fruit,” he grunts into my most private place, which I’ve given to him willingly, and my whole being trembles.
If this is Hell, how is it I feel so ascended? If I reach out, could I almost touch the clouds and make my way to the gates of his promised Garden of Eden? The pressure in my lower belly increases. The Promised Land is galloping towards me and I give myself over in absolute surrender. Fireworks on speed, like the fucking Fourth of July, explode before my eyes and blur my vision as Bar licks me lustfully. My body is pulled upwards and plummets back down to the ground. My chest rises and falls wildly, my blood roils and butterflies flutter in my stomach.
Bar runs his tongue over my vagina, lapping at the evidence my desire. He lies next to me, hissing curses, mainly aimed at himself, and my body is drawn to his like a magnet. He falls silent at once and pulls me close. I want to say so many things, but my throat won’t make a sound. What do you say when you taste life just before you part ways with it?
And how can I tell him that after everything he’s awoken in me, I don’t want to part ways with it anymore?
God help me. I already acknowledge my sins but now I’ve entrapped Bar too. I have no remorse, because for the first timein my life I dare to want more, even more than what Bar has given me.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Bartimaeus
After tasting Belle, doubt crept into my heart. God save my accursed soul, one taste was enough to become addicted to her. A small taste containing enormous damage. How am I supposed to banish her from the realm of Man when all I want is to grab her and never let go?
I refused to look at her from the moment she came against my mouth. I knew one look would be enough and I would be lost in her. I’d sell out everything I believed in my whole life for her. I sought to banish her to oblivion, but it turned out she was my oblivion. How can I show my face at church now?
She rises from the hay and leaves the barn. I hurry after her, feeling my whole body ache as she moves away from me, and I watch her put her dress back on.
“Belle,” I call her name, but she won’t look at me. She goes back to her spot on the haystack outside the barn, looking silently at the sky, which has gone cold and is now filled with heavy grey clouds. A mirror of the storm raging inside me. I sit next to her and try to get her talking. “Talk to me,” I ask.
“Nothing to say,” she sharply replies.
“There’s plenty to say. Please tell me I’m not the only one going crazy here.”
“That wasn’t the plan.” She looks at me suspiciously. Does she feel what I feel, and is afraid to admit it aloud?
“And what if they’re wrong? What if we’re wrong? What if Lilith keeps reincarnating into the lands of Adam not to bring the end upon us, but to find her redemption? What if she keeps coming back here because she hasn’t yet found what she’s looking for?”
She wrinkles her brow, apparently deliberating with herself on what to say. “And you think her redemption lies in what’s happening between us?”
I empty my thoughts to gather up the courage to blurt out what my heart commands me to say. “What if all she wants is for someone to dare to acknowledge her and love her?”
She seems furious at the possibility. “Don’t lust for love, Bar!”
“I don’t know what that is, damn it!” I yell at her.
“We don’t have time to figure it out!” she shouts back.
“Then prove me wrong. Prove to me that there’s nothing between us.” She scorches me with her gaze, but I can’t not confront her with her feelings. I refuse to believe I’m the only one who feels the connection between us. And I know with all my heart that there’s a deeper meaning to it. Something like this couldn’t exist for no reason.
