Anointed

by Charity B.

  I wipe my hand over my face and watch the many children of Zaaron reveling in their divine bliss. They all look to me for the answers I don’t have and words I don’t hear. I do what I was born for, fulfill my calling, because otherwise, why didn’t I try to find her? That question has been a permanent fixture in my brain for twelve years, and I have to believe it was for something greater.

  Marybeth jumps up and shrieks with glee as Faith and Hope Johnson chase her with a frog. Mia gets up to follow, and I grab her hand.

  “I have some things I wanted to speak to Ezekiel and Jacob about. I’ll see you at home tonight, all right?”

  She gives me a slight smile. “Of course, husband.”

  I kiss her and feel a pang of guilt when she leans in to me. My thoughts about Laurel Ann have been anything other than pure. Every moment I’m with her it gets harder not to break my vows. Even as the culpability chokes me, my hands trail down my wife’s waist while I think of her sister.

  If we hadn’t been interrupted by Sister Madeline earlier tonight, how far might things have gone? My erection grows, tightening my trousers at the memory of Laurel Ann’s flushed skin beneath my fingers.

  Breaking our kiss, I back away toward the tree line. “Keep an eye on Marybeth.”

  She nods before spinning around to join her sister-wife in being chased with a frog by the twins.

  I keep my eyes peeled for Laurel Ann, though I’m sure I know where she is. I get the occasional “Blessed evening, Prophet”, but mostly people are lost in their state of grace. I slip over to the Bur Oak and put one of the mushroom caps in my mouth. I’ve eaten these on many occasions trying to get Zaaron to speak to me. The more I eat the more I feel Him, and the closer I get to the Paradise Star. It also pulls my mind from this world. Mia found me once, and she was terrified. She said I was speaking gibberish. She went to fetch Doc Kilmer, and I had to assure him it was a holy affliction. Zaaron never did speak to me, even then, so I’ve never consumed more than one at a time since.

  I’m far enough away from Mia and Marybeth to comfortably grab a torch and slip into the trees. As I cross over the hill and arrive at the creek, my heart falls at her absence. I feel like a fool for thinking she’d be here.

  I can’t deny this place brings me a peace I need terribly, and being alone with my thoughts and Zaaron may be beneficial to my predicament. Walking closer to the river, my steps falter. My heart pounds like a gavel in my ribcage.

  She’s lying in the water, her hair floating around her like the ethereal creature she is, humming an old nursery rhyme. I swallow down my nerves and stick the torch in the ground to make my way to her. Taking off my boots, socks, and jacket before I reach the water, I stand over her until she opens her eyes.

  She shoots up in surprise. “Prophet!” Scrambling to her feet, she flings water everywhere and backs away. “What are you doing here? I thought this was my time alone with Zaaron?”

  I shove my hands into my pockets because I find it physically difficult to not touch her.

  “I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to talk with you. I don’t like things like this between us.”

  Her fingers trail up and down her wet sleeve as she lets out a sigh that is so close to a moan the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  I close the space between us and brush the wet hair off her shoulder. “Yes, you do. You’re angry at me for Mia and Marybeth, and you’re angry at me about the tomb of abolishment. So, tell me, what would you have had me do?”

  Her mouth falls open before she snaps it shut and narrows her eyes. “I would have had you be honest with me about it. Not throw me in blind.” She leans closer to me, and her body shivers as she snaps in an angry whisper, “The way you kissed me at our picnic actually had me believing that we might be bound once I came here.”

  I take in a breath because she has no idea how many times I wished for her to be my wife. My first wife. My only wife. Knowing it was impossible never took away from how much I’ve desired it.

  “Is that what you want?”

  Tears roll down her face as she shakes her head. “It’s what I’ve always wanted, but now…seeing you with your other wives…with Mia, I don’t know.”

  She’s more sensitive because of the mushrooms. They force truth and take down the walls we put up. They may be magnifying her emotions, but they are still hers. She just can’t hide them right now.

  I try not to be offended at her words. This has surely been a difficult few days, and it will take her time to adjust. I take both of my hands and wipe the tears from her cheeks. “I have a proposition.”

  Tilting her head in confusion, she sniffs. “What kind of proposition?”

  “The kind where we forget about everything that’s happened since you returned…an armistice. Only for tonight. Tonight, we enjoy our time together, under the stars in the most beautiful place on the compound.”

  Her breath comes out shaky, and she moves her hand toward me before suddenly pulling it back. “I don’t know. It’s an awful lot to forget.”

  The fear of her turning away from me after all this time threatens to close my throat. I need these moments with her more than I realized. I need her to know that I don’t want any of this; I just don’t know what to do.

  “One night. That’s all I ask.”

  She chews on her lip as she looks across the creek. The silence is killing me. She grabs my hand, and I let out a quiet chuckle of relief.

  “One night,” she whispers.

  Leading me to the water’s edge, she sits down, and I follow. Her body is shaking more harshly now. The thought of her taking off her dress sends the blood rushing to my cock, though the real reason I want her to remove it is I don’t want her getting sick.

  “Maybe you should take the dress off. It’s not making you any warmer.”

  A smirk blinks across her face before it slips away, and she lifts her hair off her shoulders. “Will you help me with the buttons?”

  The Laurel Ann I know wouldn’t have an inkling of how to seduce a man on purpose, making the lust rolling off her tongue so natural it’s intoxicating. I allow my fingers to brush her neck, and she releases another one of those sighing moans, giving me the urge to reach down and stroke myself.

  Zaaron’s gifts are taking their effect, causing the hundreds of buttons trailing down the back of this dress to feel like they’re pulsing beneath my fingers. With each one I undo, more of her pale flesh presents itself to me, the faint lines of her soul cleansing scars decorating her otherwise flawless skin. The lace trim of her white, bodice petticoat looks soft like the brushstrokes of a painting against her back. Lightly fondling the material, I push the wet sleeves of her dress down her delicate shoulders. Before I can stop myself, I press my lips to her back and inhale her scent. My senses become hyperaware of her skin tingling beneath my lips.

  She whispers the softest, “Prophet,” as I kiss up her spine.

  Once her dress is down her arms, she pushes it the rest of the way off, leaving her in nothing other than her petticoat and bloomers which stick to her figure from being wet. She turns to face me, and the light from the torch shows her hard nipples through the white fabric. I have to clench my fists to prevent myself from brushing my fingers over them. My gaze travels up to her quivering lips before meeting her watery eyes. She reaches up, holding her hand against my cheek. Her touch feels so incredible, my cock twitches in my trousers.

  I turn my head to kiss her palm when she says, “Does Zaaron tell you what will become of me?”

  Honesty is on the cusp of my tongue. I want to tell her that I’m a fraud. That Zaaron doesn’t speak to me at all. That the entire compound has put their faith and trust into a man who doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. “He tells me what He feels is necessary.” She looks up at me with those earnest, green eyes, and I wish I could tell her everything will be all right. “Your future has yet to be determined.”

  The challenge is subtle yet a
pparent when she asks, “Has He told you what will become of Benji and my brother?”

  I’m angry that they put me in this position, but I know I can’t let the compound learn of this. Being branded a sodomite stays with someone. Even once they are cleansed, they are treated differently. I can’t let that happen to them.

  “He has been oddly silent on the matter. Until He tells me otherwise, I will take this as another example of His infinite grace.”

  From the expression I’m receiving, I’m sure she’s questioning my response. I have to lie on demand so often that half the time I wonder how threadbare my falsehoods seem. If she doubts my honesty, she speaks nothing of it.

  She nods and looks across the water in silence. When she finally speaks, she doesn’t move her gaze.

  “I was with child when I left the compound.”

  Vibrations on my skin make it come alive, as if it will separate from my body at any moment just to wrap around her. My tongue swells, and my head fills up with air, making me light headed. I’ve pushed away the thoughts of my father taking her body hundreds of times. Knowing that he put a child inside of her makes my hate for the dead man hotter than it has been since the day we killed him.

  “What became of it?”

  She doesn’t answer, and I wonder if I asked the question at all or just imagined it when she says, “Zaaron ripped it from my body.”

  Women lose children all the time, on the compound. The situations can range from mild to fatal. The thought of her going through that all alone in the dark, new world has me wrapping her in my arms and pulling her into my lap. There aren’t words that can be said for this. There is nothing to do besides hold her against me. She laces her arms around my neck, and as her chest presses against mine, each of her breaths flow into me, connecting us with an unseen chain. Our skin begins to mold together, and I smile against her shoulder. I have to believe that this is Zaaron’s way of telling us that our souls are meant to be one. I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but the very core of our being recognize each other on a majestic level.

  I hold her against me as my fingertips softly trail across her back. She lets out an erotic sigh and turns her body to wrap her legs around my waist. I can feel the heat between her legs through the fabric of my shirt.

  “Oh Prophet…that feels really good,” she whimpers. I have to swallow at the vision of her rocking against my stomach. “Every touch is like a tiny explosion.” Her fingers fondle the chain of my sigil necklace, little puffs of air falling from her lips. My aching cock presses against her ass, and even without her touching it, the feeling is so overwhelming I’m worried she will bring me to completion just like this. “Is this Zaaron? Is He doing this?” she gasps.

  I can’t handle this anymore without coming in my trousers. Lightly nipping at her ear, I whisper, “I’m going to lay you down.”

  “I don’t want to move,” she groans in protest, making me chuckle and my dick throb. My restraint is waning as I press my lips to hers, tasting her desire.

  I slowly lay her on her back, when like a flash of lightening in a stormy sky, guilt over my current acts of unfaithfulness flicker through my mind. My eyes trace over her lightly freckled skin, drowning my transgressions in my arousal. Her mouth is slightly open, and I give into my desire to trace my tongue along the inside of her bottom lip.

  I grasp at the hem of her petticoat to push it over her bloomers. “What are you doing?” She lifts her head in a half daze of excitement and confusion.

  I continue lifting the fabric, exposing her stomach, begrudgingly stopping before I reach her breasts. “We’re going to play a game.”

  Her laugh is husky as she lays her head back on the bank and looks to the night sky. “Okay…what are we playing?”

  My hand brushes across her stomach, and she quivers. “I’m going to use my finger to write something, and you have to guess what it is.”

  Her breathing becomes faster. “Okay.”

  I lie on my side, allowing me to see her body move as I touch my finger around her navel. “Ready?”

  She nods her head, and a wisp of air leaves her lips. Tracing a vertical line across her flesh, I add two smaller horizontal ones, one at the top and one at the bottom. “I,” she sighs. I draw a vertical line before dragging it down diagonally, up diagonally and down again vertically. “M.” Once she guesses the next I, I make a snake-like motion across her torso, and she arches her back as she whimpers, “I missed you, too, Prophet.”

  I grin, pressing a soft kiss right below her belly button. “I think this is too easy for you,” I murmur against her skin. Pressing continuous kisses up her stomach in a diagonal line I begin writing a Y on her skin with my lips. She doesn’t guess the letters as easily, so I take my mouth lower on her body each time. Her pelvis thrusts on its own every few minutes until I can’t take it anymore. Risking reaching down to rub the head of my dick over my pants, I groan from the sensation. By the time I get to the U, I take the chance and tug down her bloomers. Since she doesn’t stop me, I pull them down a little further for the ‘R when something pokes out from her knickers. Grasping at the piece of paper, I slide it out of her undergarments before she jolts up and reaches to take it from my hands.

  I yank it back and laugh, “What’s this?”

  When I look down and the light from the torch illuminates the paper, I realize what I’m holding and nearly drop it.

  Real anger is not something I have ever felt toward her. Even when I had to watch her be bound to my father, even when she left him knowing there would be consequences, and even when I knew she was living with a Philistine. But this? She intentionally brought it into our sacred land, and she deliberately disobeyed our laws. “What are you thinking?!” I jump up to grab the torch, ready to see this unnatural blasphemy burn.

  “No!” she screams, grabbing my arm. “Please, Zeb, please don’t. It’s all I have left of her. I won’t ever see her again! Please!”

  She looks about to fall to her knees to plead. The use of my name causes a pain in my chest, and the heartbreak on her face is almost too much to bear. I don’t understand how she could have developed feelings for a Philistine. Regardless, the girl was clearly a lifeline for Laurel Ann. It’s obvious how much she cares for her.

  I sigh. This wasn’t an act of rebellion. Photographs were created by men who tried to outsmart Zaaron and stop time, but even I can admit to having the desire to hold a moment in your pocket. Keeping the wet picture between my fingers, I hold it out to her, and she snatches it back, pressing it to her chest. The flame from the torch causes a glow around her partially dried hair, and I brush it back from her face.

  “Since I told you that tonight wasn’t about anything other than us, I’m choosing to ignore this. Just know, if I see it again I will destroy it. Keep it better hidden.”

  She nods, “Yes, Prophet.”

  Rushing over to her boots, she bends down to place the photo inside as I step behind her. She turns around quickly, nearly bumping into me. She gasps at my close proximity and covers her mouth.

  “You scared me.” Looking into my eyes with her wide ones, she steps closer and places her hands on my chest. “Thank you,” she whispers, standing on her toes to kiss my cheek.

  I grasp the back of her neck and press my mouth against hers before I grin. “We didn’t finish our game.”

  She breathes out a soft laugh as I grab her to pull her back down to the bank. Once we touch the ground, I lean down, and her chest lifts when she wraps her arms around me, hugging me closer. My hand travels down the right side of her body until finding the hem of her petticoat. Her legs spread, allowing me to lie between them and kiss across her face and neck.

  “Every night for as long as I can remember, I thought of this.”

  She stills, and her hands brush over my shoulders to my chest, slowly pushing me away. “What are we doing, Zebadiah? This is wrong, but it feels…everything just feels so much…more. I’m not strong enough to say no to you. I need you to stop
this.”

  I lightly bite her ear before whispering, “Sorry, Laur. When it comes to this, I’m weaker than you are.” Alternating between nipping and kissing, I move down her neck as she sharply inhales and grasps at the ground. “And this feeling is a gift from Zaaron.” My fingers slide under her bodice strap to tug it over her shoulder, exposing her pretty, pink nipple. I look up at her, and she’s watching me. I smile and lick the little nub. “So, fucking enjoy it.” I suck the hardened flesh into my mouth, and she cries with actual tears.

  “Don’t curse.”

  Her hand goes to the back of my head, pressing me closer as I laugh against her breast. I slowly trace my fingers across her stomach until reaching the waist of her bloomers. Flattening my palm against her skin, I slide beneath the fabric. When I reach the soft hair, my heart pounds, and she jolts, forcing my fingers to slide against her wetness.

  “Prophet!” Allowing my hand to softly roam, I gently put a finger inside, her body clamping around it. I slide slowly in and out to let her adjust to the sensation. As she pushes herself against my hand, I move my finger faster. “This is…I’ve never felt this before…it’s amazing…” she murmurs, her words fading under the fog of Zaaron’s presence.

  The very idea of her coming is almost too much to bear. This is the only chance I’ll have, and I want so badly to know what she tastes like. Just the thought of such an act has me undoing my trousers and fisting my cock. Removing my hand from her bloomers, I run my wet fingertip up her stomach to her belly button.

  “Why did you stop?” she pants.

  Pulling the ribbon, I untie her knickers and tug them down her body. Her pale skin looks intoxicating in the light of the moon as I take in her natural form for the first time. Seeing her like this has been the subject of so many of my dreams.

  My groan comes out soft when I ask, “Do you know what I was going to write earlier?” She gives me a slight shake of the head, and I lean down to kiss her. “You’re beautiful.” Smiling, she bites her lip, and I reach back down to run my thumb over her wet pussy. “Has anyone ever licked you here?”