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Remove the robe.
A whispered command inside her head had her reaching for her belt and shrugging from the garment as she watched the undulations of the perfume bottle before her. It fluttered and shimmered, a life force now emanating a throbbing red glow, growing wider and wider.
She felt the cool air of the room slide against her skin, so different from the wet heat still lingering on her flesh from her recent bath. Panic began to leak into her mind at the unreality of the moment. Unconsciously, she lifted a hand to stroke the necklace at her throat.
It grounded her, and she calmed as her searching fingers encountered the glittering collar of his possession. What was it his note had said?
Open yourself to receive this special gift created for you. Feel my presence. Give to me freely and it shall be yours.
She inhaled and released a long whoosh of panic. It steadied her as she felt his essence fill her. There was nothing to fear as his special brand of magic enclosed her within its embrace. He would never harm her; she knew that in her soul. The elemental caress of his presence surrounded her, yet she knew, if she chose to deny him, he would not force her or ever harm her. He always had and always would let her decide for herself.
Lowering her hand to rest upon her thigh, she gazed at the bottle, opening herself to receive his gift, silently offering herself--and watched, wide-eyed, as the long, elegant stopper lifted effortlessly into the air.
Prepare, Rachel. Accept the scent of my favor, embrace the aroma of my dominion.
Her body tingled, her nerve endings unfurling, open, and ready to receive. If itbrought her closer to Julian, she willingly accepted--he had to know that after all this time. She loved him with a passion that exceeded rationality, flew beyond the borders of civilized society.
The bottle continued to sway in a fluid mimic of movement to an unheard beat, but something echoed inside her head, a melody calling her into motion, mirroring the undulations of the bottle. She rose from the bench and began to sway, closing her eyes, hearing inside her head the pitch of primal, vibrating notes and allowing it to drive her body. The touch of smooth, wet glass against her neck made her gasp, and then the scent was inside her as her skin quickly absorbed it, an arrow of molten passion, flying through layers of societal strictures, past polite response, slicing into the primal heat hidden far beneath the surface, freeing it from the prison.
Open yourself. Show me your acceptance of what I offer.
Posted February 5, 2011
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