‘What will you give to me ‘ she whispered
‘If I do all you ask ...’

He paused. Contemplating his response before lifting his head to gaze at her.

‘Everything’. He said.

Just a dream. An adolescent memory ...

A little older now. Her life a series of routine. Work. Home. Children on repeat. The intensity of youth replaced by something else.
But the craving
How it had grown.
It swelled inside her. An insatiable unabated hum. When she pictured him, the beating intensified. The want

Closing her eyes her reverie took her to the fantasy she yearned for. The door closed and as it bolted she shook her self from her dreamscape clearing her vision looked around And he was there. Standing before her. Watching her.

His odour filled the room. This foreign place. Tones of whiskey, leather, tobacco. Her lip quivered. Neither spoke. The mist of the warm evening billowing through the open French patio. Half lit the room was as the dappled light of autumn. She breathed him deeply.And held it

Opening her eyes once more she moved as to speak, but fiercely gripped the bedding when she saw he’d stood. As he neared, the Indian cotton twisted in her grip and she sensed the perspiration stream along the length of her spine

Closer he prowled. Panther like through the shadows, appearing at will. The brilliance of his white buttoned shirt the only constant. She could hear his smooth leather soles tapping across the polished floor boards. She gasped. Gently

A siren sounded outside. Shocking her into a semi consciousness and as she turned to enquire, his hand softly touched her shoulder

She felt him breeze ethereally past her. His fingers across her clavicle, tracing the delicate line or the fine golden coloured chain that lay there. Across her shoulder to the nape of her neck

Her head dropped and her hair cascaded over her face. How could this be. What was this.
Tensing each muscle, she bit hard in her lip.
Before she felt the bed, sink under his weight.

The stiletto heel toppled beneath her foot and she sensed the cold oak on her skin. Curling her toes as if to grip the floor. To anchor her self to the here. To the now.

She exhaled. Throwing her head back, her hair a perfect plume above her. Spreading her palms across the crumpled sheets she lay back, into his waiting embrace.
He spoke

‘Do you surrender, freely ‘ ...

And she hesitated.

Cont
And as she hesitated, she looked at herself, except she was seeing as if through His eyes. The scars and tolls and marks of time, the accumulated imperfections now seemed somehow insignificant, irrelevant.
She saw what He could see. She could see want. Desire.

Cont
And she fell. Freely. Tumbling back into the thick down mattress and as she did it felt like it enveloped her as she sank deeper. The bed was consuming her.
Gazing up through opaque light she could see the form of Him. His skin tones seemed to change as she watched

Cont.
dark, black, white. Surely the effects of the light. His physique was not that of an athlete. It was not sculpted. Or chiselled. It was what she wanted. It was what she was searching for. As she lay back into the warming embrace of the mattress,his face was inverted above

Cont
As He lowered his head, she could see the cut of of his clothing. A white cotton shirt, the collar cut into the French style. Cuffs, double,held with black Onyx links set in platinum. The sleeves perfectly pressed with a crease that could cut. His top button was unfastened

Cont
She could see an iridescent Pearl sheen on each button, noticing that the second was also open. They shimmered in the dimming light.
And the smell. The lingering scent of incense.

Cont
As the soft pillowed bed swallowed her, He slowly lowered his face. Bringing it closer to hers, disappearing and re-emerging equally between the shadows. And as He did, she saw the face. But like a Victorian lantern show dancing in the light. She saw not one ..

Cont
But the face of every man she had ever hungered for.
The college crush, the rock star, the actor. Her neighbour They were all they.Every man she had ever ached for. The cinema spin of the show slowed.Before resting at the one she had wanted always. The one she needed.Him

Cont
Her head tilted, fixing on Him. Their eyes locked in anticipation...
The dress she wore clung to her body, binding her to the bed and he must have noticed as she raised her hips momentarily.
Slowly, He stretched across her, his body tight and firm. Quietly shimmering ...

Cont
Over her. The scent grew around her and she felt as He extended his limbs over her. Slowly
Precisely
Nothing was rushed. He had all the time she had ever wanted
The detail was in the Devil
And when she surrendered, He would own her. Branding her.
Her hesitation. Was gone.

His ice flame tipped talons scraped along the curvature of her body, tracing at the underwear beneath. She couldn’t recall what she’d worn, but in this moment, it didn’t matter. He was transfixed only on her.

His eyes, blue, or green, or dark pools of obsidian pitch seemed to change as she looked deeper. He was everything and all.

‘Everything’ she said ‘I want everything ‘...

And as the last syllable travelled the short distance between them, His hand touched the bare skin of

Her soft throat. His finger, extended, slid deftly from her extend inviting chin, along the elegance of her neck, playfully twisting the necklace given to her her at her Communion. A trinket. He ripped at it, pulling it from her and discarding it. He marked her. He marked her

She turned her head aside into the pillow. A faux resistance as he slowly, dragged his nail across her chest as if counting the ribs beneath. She caught herself breathlessly joining him. Her pelvis pressed into the sheets.

As his finger tip reached the neck line if her dress, patterned, floral, regular, he toyed with the small buttoned fastening. Spinning it between his fingers. The thread grew taut. He applied more force and it separated from the cloth. Lower. A second button released from it’s

Loop. Then another. So quickly she was undone. So quickly he was undoing her. Her dress lay across her body. Positioned as it had been, but unbuttoned completely.
He stood. And slowly walked to the foot of the bed.

Never taking His eyes from her. She never from him. Her heart pulsed. The drum beating rapidly. So loud. He must hear it. His form clearer now before her. He was her want. All. Everything.

He positioned himself at her feet. Her other show fell to the floor. She could feel the rigidity of his thighs against her knees. What. How was this happening.
He whispered. She didn’t hear. Her frustration clear
‘I said ...pull it aside’ he repeated.

She took the edges of her dress in her grip and with a confidence that she thought had left her in her youth, she unveiled herself to him.
The majesty of her. His want. Her need.

Her breasts swollen, and her chest radiating. The pulse quickened. Instinctively she wanted to cross her thigh across herself. To protect her modesty. He grabbed her, pushing her leg back onto the bed.
The incense intensified in the room.

The swirling intoxicating scent and clouds filled her senses and she felt Him, as he placed one knee on the bedding, between her thighs. She ached. She wanted to press against him. To feel Him against her. Her lower back arched as her shoulders dropped lower.

He knelt upright a knee each side of her thigh. And she watched as her perfect hands, unbuckled the black metal buckle of His belt.
His hands. Soft. But simultaneously work worn.

The heat grew in the room. A warmth of summer. Of exhaled breath. Of bodies. Of whiskey infused memories. The heat of lust.

He leant forward.
‘Everything. It’s yours. I’m yours. Take it ‘ ... he whispered into her ear, biting the warm lobe as he spoke.
Her hesitation spent, she grabbed at his waist, and in clipped the silver fastening of his trousers. She remembered there were two, she’d never

Really known why. As they released she gripped the waist band and like a long awaited gift, she began to undress Him.
Inch. By slowly revealed inch.
She already knew what was beneath. She could feel his eagerness.
She took control.

The trousers slid over His firm backside. Along the length of his thick thighs. Pooling at his feet. He stepped from them. His shirt now open. She could see his torso. Her perfection.

The lights dimmed.

He returned to the bed. His arms toned and braced either side of her. Legs now between hers. She curved her arms around his broad back and dug her nails into the flesh.
A deep guttural moan
He grabbed quickly her hips, and pulled her to the edge of the bed.

‘Show me ‘ he said.
And she did. She slowly danced her painted nail along her torso, knowing he was looking only at her.
Lower. Across her stomach.
Lower. To the waist of her knickers.
Lower.
Lower.
She watched as He caressed the edge of himself through his own cotton

Lower. She felt the fabric of her underwear. Silk, lace, cotton. It mattered not.
Lower.
Her eyes fixed in him. She could see all. He wanted her. He needed her.
She controlled Him
‘Show me ‘.
She said

He smiled. A wicked lip turned grin. And took the elasticated waist band of his underwear in his fingers.
And He slowly teased them down. She could see as he emerged. She could see Him swollen. She knew it was her. He was hers.
Further he slid the cotton, until it too was

At his feet. He stood before her. His body angry. She knew it. And she gasped a deep longing breath as she pulled her underwear aside her swollen aching self.

He neared.
She stopped Him. Her naked feet pressed into his chest. Ripping into his flesh.
‘Watch’ she demanded.
He gripped himself unable to contain anymore his hunger.
As she began to touch herself.
Nobody knew her body like she did.

Slowly at first. Touching the damp outer folds. He began to work as he watched.
Quickening. She buried her head into the pillow beneath her.
He neared and she repelled.
‘No. Watch. Fucking watch me’
She shocked her own sensibilities as she quickened her hand

He joined the rhythmic thrust. Synchronising with each stroke of her hand.
Her body leaked.
Her heart raced.
She felt like she’d never been fucked before.

She watched him nearing.
‘Now. Do it now. ‘ they both said.
And they felt the rush within themselves. Swelling in the pit of their stomachs. Faster. Harder.

The room filled with moans, incense, clouds of smoke swirled

And they released.

Climaxing as one.

Shuddering together. That weakening vulnerable tremor of post orgasm.

Both soaked.
Both aching.
Both satiated.

For now.

The siren outside sounded louder.
She opened her eyes. And He was gone.
She was there. Her clothing disheveled. Her need fulfilled.
But He was gone.
The memory of her adolescence.
The power of Her self.

And in that moment she knew, it wasn’t a man she’d needed to fulfil her. It was Herself.

She smiled. Her knickers damp. And she left the room. After all, The devil wasn’t real. The Devil is in everyone

She closed the door of the room behind her. Closing another memory away. And as she left ...

The Devil watched.

Fin.