Primrose

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a short work I did to experiment with emotion and sensory evocation.

Submitted: July 22, 2010

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Submitted: July 22, 2010

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The first hand reached around my waist from behind, while the second covered my mouth.It didn’t matter as I froze stiff with terror thrashing against the walls of my tensed veins.I felt the second hand tilt my head to the left as the first hand held me tightly pressed against the shadowed torso.My heart pumped faster, forcing the blood and the fear back through my body.

I felt numb.

My neck, exposed, throbbed with the gushing blood inside, the warm life energy building up with the chill on my bare legs.My eyes had been closed the entire time for fear of seeing the end. The hot breath on the back of my neck drew closer, closer to my exposed skin, closer with those teeth, closer with those lips, until my body shivered, shrill scream of silence reverberating within me.

What had I done to deserve this, and why did it matter now, now that the end was so very near in sight? I couldn’t scream, not even if the second hand were to be removed.I couldn’t scream and I couldn’t seek help: I was in much too deep.

Contact.Faded red, I imagined, on my teenage flesh, two cold, chapped lips pressing against my neck, a kiss and a tear, and those horrible teeth, torturous and subtle, and the fear and adrenaline in my body, so much to withstand, so much to contain. I felt blood.Ruby red, staining the skin, rippling through the pierced flesh, lips caressing the rest of my neck.The first and second hands moved, slipping down my chest, my bare torso, to rest on my hips.Hot, wet tongue, unforgiving, cursing as the small beads of blood dripped down to the hardwood floor.

I tipped my head back, letting the lips slip around my neck to encase my throat.A nip at my jugular and my body tightened, the tension straining my muscles and my chest heaving.A single note escaped my own lips, a whimper, one utterance of weakness and temper.My body flushed hot, sweat breaking out over my naked flesh, chilling me to the bone.Those hands, the first and second, slipping over my back, my flesh responding to the gently harsh call, my body trembling.

“P-Please,” I whimpered.“Just…end it.”I heard a snarl, a growl tearing through the tension, adding to my fear.I would have prayed if I believed in a singular higher power.Those lips, those teeth, my body was now teetering on the edge, everything within me just waiting to explode.I moaned softly as he trailed that hot tongue across my chest, and cried as he bit at my teat.I felt exposed, and I opened my eyes to the darkness finally.

He stood there, just as naked as I, with pleading eyes and anxious lips.The first and second hands grabbed my shoulders and forced me towards him, our bodies locked and sealed with a kiss, a contract, my legs quivering.He picked me up in those strong arms and laid me on the bed of roses.The thorns pricked at my skin, tearing pinpricked holes in my flesh, and the leaves, like razors, sliced against me.The vines entrapped me with a sigh, and I smiled.The blood from my neck stained the earth and his body, trapped in marks of golden flame, pressed to mine.With cohesive movement, we uttered names and became as one writhing mass upon the primrose rocks.

As I bled out against his body, his flames licked and seared me, caressed and enslaved me.I yearned for it, lust uncontrollable, my heart choking my throat.His lopsided smile shone bright and then I was the one with the pleading eyes.Anxiety got the best of me.I gave in, slithering against him, our flesh made of oil and blood, and our veins tightening with each gasp.His golden eyes dripped a drop of dew upon my cheek.Reality wouldn’t take hold, as my mind couldn’t ground itself with his eyes boring into my own, his soul extending out to me.His legs wrapped around my chest and, as he loomed over me, I felt a strange sensation.I wondered if I was even human any more, but it didn’t matter.He wouldn’t tease me forever, he would end it.I looked up at him, begging with a shaking jaw and twisted leg, pleading with streams of sweat and blood dripping down my forehead, withering into the earth as another tear dripped onto my cheek, scorching my skin.

I pulled him toward me, aware of the constant movement of the vines, the constant stabbing and stinging, the aching, the acclimation of my internal soul and yearning to my outer body and flesh.I bit through my lip, my eyes now widened enough to see everything.I could hear the lustful beating of his heart resonating against the flesh covering my lungs, and I could feel the change in my breathing as he pressed against and into me.It wasn’t a sensation so much as a symphony.My ears rang and my fingers trembled against his strong chest.

As the pace picked up, I could see his eyes orchestrating, his body straining, and I felt lightheaded from the loss of fluid in my body.I wanted this.I had prepared for it for days and nights, I had dreamt of it, I had seen the visions of it, but never could I have imagined the sounds.The crunching rose petals, the dripping sweat, the searing flames, the sound of flesh on flesh, flesh inside…

The final kiss was set.As his lips trailed up along my chest and over my neck, then finally, he descended upon my lips, his teeth biting me as I whimpered against him, cradled into him, forced under him.Everything happened so slow, so terrifically slow.The dirt in my hair charmed me, and the way his mouth tasted as it covered my own thrust me further into the woes of sin.And then, in an instant, a singular climax, both of us in unified mind, body, existence, and everything real melted away, the two of us blending with the roses, the blood, and the first and second hands, and everything was set.

The whole time I had been begging for the end, but as soon as it came, I hungered for more.I hungered for life, for oil, for candles, for books, for blood, and for him.I hungered for existence, the pangs so deep within me that they would most likely never be satiated.As he smiled upon me, we both went up in flames, as did the bed of roses he created me with.


© Copyright 2018 Noah Sylvanos. All rights reserved.

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