communion IV [awakening]

"Sleep brings no rest to me:
The shadows of the dead
My wakening eyes may never see
Surround my bed".
~Emily Bronte (The Horrors of Sleep)

A curious calm falls like a curtain, the air hushed by a single breath. Eleanna is stretched out on the altar like a sacrificial lamb. She is naked from the waist up, her dress bunched and twisted around her hips. Her eyes are closed, her hands clasped together on her stomach. Her breasts rise and fall with every deep breath, pink nipples stiff and pointed in the chilled air. Every breath she takes flows through me like a silk sash fluttering in the wind. I am standing above her with my hand around her throat. Gently I move my fingers to stroke her outstretched neck. Her pulse palpitates beneath my fingers trickling through my palm vibrating my senses like a plucked harp string. Ghostly pale in the warm yellow light, her features are shadowed and soft.

She is beautiful beyond reason, and yet as I gaze down at her, all I want to do is ravage her. Her softness and her innocence evokes dark imagery inside my head that has lain dormant for too long. Purity as a virtue has left her beauty unmarred, washing her soul clean like a baptism.

I start to slide my hand down. My cock strains against the inside of my jeans. I can almost feel the warmth of her mouth over it. The feeling is so palpable that I have trouble controlling my breathing.
I want to fondle her beautiful breasts-to carve my fingers into the soft flesh and watch as her skin burns red from my fingers. I yearn to run my thumb across each engorged nipple. The hunger to run my tongue across each angry welt from my nails as they rise to the surface of her pale white skin consumes me. I want to hear the sharp intake of her breath, her tiny whimper. I would lick each tear that trickled from the corner of her eyes, to let the salty extracts soothe the abrasiveness as it slipped down my raw throat. I flicked my tongue across my cracked lips.
Suddenly a sharp pain spears through me. The ornate dirk which dangled from the black velvet collar had nicked the soft fleshy edge my palm. "Shit!", I exclaim bringing my hand up for a closer look. Glinting like an eye in the warm glow of the candle light a drop of bright red beads out of the small wound. I am fascinated by the sight. My vision starts to blur. From deep within me there is a stirring. A gnarled leathery eyelid creaked slowly open, cracking painfully from the ravages of all this time that it had stayed closed, to reveal an obsidian eye. Little rivulets of blood begun to flow from the edges, filling in the spaces.

It had finally awoken.

Before I can react, Eleana has reached for my hand pulling it towards her. She extends her tongue and as quick as an asp, licks the droplet of blood from my palm. She runs the tip across her lips savouring the metallic tang smearing her pink lips with a crimson streak.
"Fuck me!", she whispers harshly, urgently reaching for me.