Wednesday, 14 April 2021

The Devil in the (waning) daylight.

He reached into the glass, taking out an ice cube between two fingers, leaving the glass on the table beside us. He pulls me into his lap. I'm dressed in his unbuttoned shirt and tie with a poorly-tied single Windsor knot at this point, nothing else. He is still in suit pants. Belt. Bare feet. Nothing else. He gathers me in close in one arm, pulling the ice cube up to my lips, running it across my bottom lip and down over my chin. I lean my head back and close my eyes as I feel the cold ice melting, running in rivers down my chest, soaking his shirt, pooling in my belly button, sending shivers up my back. 

He gives me the cube and I press it against his mouth but don't let him keep it, returning the favour, running it down his throat, over his Adam's apple and down the line to his belt and then I lose my grip and it falls. He kicks it out of the way and it skids across the wooden floor as he stands up, picking me up in the process. My legs are wrapped around his hips. No effort. One arm looped lazily around his neck and he bends forward, and staggers against the doorframe, catching us against it with his free arm and then I get my kiss. Oh God. Don't keep me up here please please please and somehow he hears me and keeps going. 

He drops us both down into his bed. I look toward the window. So bright still. The sun persists, fighting the moon for glory the same exact way he fights everyone else for time. He removes his tie from my neck, considers throwing it somewhere and then smiles in that old familiar way. I am turned over roughly, hands pulled behind my back, held down while he loops the tie around my wrist, tying it tightly but not too tightly.

In front, please. If it's in back and you turn me over I can't put weight on my arm-

Shit. A pause in his plans and he unties me quickly, gingerly turning me back to face him. I hold my hands up together. Willing, but cautious. He frowns and then pauses, bending down for another kiss. 

Trust me, he says, as if I don't. The tie covers my eyes, tied around the back of my head. I put my fingers up to lift it and he pulls my hands away. 

Trust me, he repeats, as if I do. 

Then he leaves. I hear him taking off the rest of his things. Then I feel him wrap his fingers around my ankles and he violently yanks me down. I yell out in surprise and then I feel his breath against my knees. I reach for his head and try and push him away but he holds my hands down, against the sheets. When he tastes me I lose my mind, twisting up towards him, turning myself inside out, fighting to be set free so I can fully enjoy this but he keeps me pinned, the girl in the Riker frame. The same way they all do because otherwise I would fly away. 

I am worked into a frenzy and I let out a shuddering cry. He finally gives me a break, letting go of my hands. I am now slick with sweat, cathartic tears leaking from of the corners of my eyes, sliding into my hair as I lie there. He is up over me now. He doesn't turn me away, doesn't pull me up, doesn't try and impale me against the wall, instead he works gently but remains harsh at the same time, finding a rhythm within me, pulling my knees up, pulling my arms around his neck once again, pressing his head down against the top of mine. 

He rises higher and higher until we are no longer embracing and he is sitting up on his knees, pulling me up into his hips, focused and driving before he roughly leans back down, rips off my blindfold and we both come together, foreheads pressed together, breathing heavily, staring into each other's eyes. I wonder if I will burst into flames and then Caleb kisses me again and lies down beside me, one hand wrapped around my thigh. 

Ownership. It's a myth and the spell is broken and the sun sets, losing to the moon on this night, as it has on every single night of my life.