by Lily White
Who was he?
Why was I being tormented with the constant shift in rules and facts about everything I thought I’d known?
“You told me to call you that.”
My fear had subsided to recognize his voice, but anxiety raced in to fill the places left vacant.
“I know.” He didn’t move into the light, didn’t make another sound to let me find where he stood. I couldn’t gauge a general direction from his voice. When he spoke, he was everywhere at once.
“I’m just in awe of how quickly you’ve changed already. Is there nothing you won’t do for me?”
I didn’t know from what direction it came, but a cool breeze drifted across my body, reminding me of my nudity. Sitting up, I continued to peer into the darkness searching for Jacob while cinching the robe around me.
“Leave it open.”
A command, his voice was stronger, more robust, than how he’d spoken before. I released the robe, desperate to please him and give him anything he asked. A strange joy filled me, his desire to look at me showing me the connection between us had returned. He wasn’t angry anymore.
“Let me see you.”
My hands shook as I pulled them from my body, my chest tightening because I knew that his eyes could see every part of me.
The silence was suffocating. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t give me any sign of his approval. I sat completely still, closing my eyes against the heat that raced along my skin.
One footstep and then two, the sound of them crept through the small space.
He came into view just barely, the shadows cast by the low light lending a cutting edge to his cheeks and jaw. His clothes were black, blending seamlessly into the darkness of the room.
“Climb onto your knees and turn around. Place your hands against the wall. Look at nothing but the pillow beneath you.”
My body jumped at the raw heat in his voice. I had to obey. Had to…
To upset him would be to destroy myself.
Denying him would be the same as denying God.
Faith filled me as I took the position he’d asked of me. His footsteps warning me he was near. I jumped at the single fingertip sliding softly over the skin of my calf.
The pressure of his finger softened at the bend in my knee, but that touch soon spread open to the full width of his hand, his grip painful yet enticing in the way it moved over the back of my thigh.
When he neared the apex of my thighs, I quivered, the skin between my legs becoming slick with anticipation of his caress. But he pulled away before he granted me his touch. And I was reduced to ashes.
I turned my head to look back at him, not thinking about how it was a violation of his command.
His hand was on me, his fingertips digging into my skin as he gripped the back of my neck. Crying out, I felt a tear slip free, my muscles beneath his fingers burning from how tightly he held me.
He said nothing as he leaned down, his breath hot against my ear while he held me in position. Pain screamed along my shoulders from his hand, but I refused to complain. Trembling, I waited anxiously for him to speak, for there to be any sound besides the rhythmic inhale and exhale of his breath.
It felt like hours before he finally asked, “Do you know how badly I want you?”
“I’m yours.”
No hesitation.
No doubt.
There was nothing inside me but need.
I was desperate for him to understand that I was sorry I’d run. I would never leave his side again.
“Please…”
His hand released my neck to fist in my hair.
Keeping my eyes trained to the mattress beneath me, I swallowed the whimper of pain that tried to force its way up my throat. Pain was cleansing. Pain brought me closer to the light.
Pain was what propelled me into the ecstasy of God.
Adjusting to his hold, I relaxed, remaining quiet and waiting for him to speak again.
His other hand swept up the back of my thigh, pulling with it the robe that hung loose from my body. My bare bottom was exposed to the air, the muscles of my core rippled inside me. I was desperate for his touch.
Jacob’s palm brushed over the cheek of my bottom, pulling the robe higher until the material gathered over my upper back. I was completely open to him as he stood above me silently.
Heart pounding, my blood was thunder in my head.
Wickedness coursed through me. My sin was being brought to the surface to be purged by his hand.
His mouth was next to my ear. His breath hot.
So hot.
Too hot.
“Make one sound, and I’ll stop. If I stop, you’ve failed.”
Fear struck my heart with each beat, my teeth sinking into my lip to keep from speaking, from reacting in any way to what was to come.
Jacob’s fingers traced the line of my hip, tickling the skin of my waist and reaching to graze across the tips of my breasts. My body jerked in response, my lip feeling like it would split from how hard I bit down.
Trembling beneath the strain of my position, the muscles in my arms shook as if they would give out. I forced myself to remain strong, to hold my body exactly as he’d directed, the terror that I would fail crippling my ability to think clearly.
His fingertips moved over my bottom, stopping just before touching the slickened skin between my legs. I writhed, my hips pushing up into his touch.
But it only served to push him away.
I couldn’t complain at the loss of his heat, couldn’t whimper or moan. I’d been silenced by his demands and there was nothing I could do but breathe through the rejection.
He stood above me, not moving or speaking.
I could feel him watching me, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. I was frightened while turned on, terrified while completely and wholly surrendered.
Minutes passed, one after the other, my anxiety building as I wondered what he would do. Would he hurt me? His anger always led to pain, but it drove away my sin – it cleansed me.
I deserved the pain, cherished it because it would leave me pure.
Breaking apart the thick silence, he asked, “Does it hurt when I refuse you?”
“Yes.” Spoken on a broken voice, the one word came out on my tremulous breath.
His hand was on me again, his skin sweeping across mine with slow, precise movement.
Deep and on a soft tone, he spoke to me.
“You need to seduce me, my love. No matter what I say, what I do, you must show me how loyal you can be.”
Despite the hushed manner in which he spoke, his words reverberated through the room, along my skin until I swore my heart beat loud enough for him to hear it.
Reaching down, his finger slipped along the flesh that was swollen with my need for him. He never pushed inside, simply moving his hand back and forth, touching places that made my entire body quiver and squirm.
With his other hand, he pulled on my hair, lifting my head from where it had been positioned. Looking down, he said, “I’ll challenge you. I’ll enjoy refusing you. But you can still seduce me. You must have faith in me, Eve. No matter what, you must seduce me when I test you.”
His teeth nipped the bend of my neck and shoulder. His finger pushed inside my body.
I was lost.
I was found.
I was damned.
I was forgiven.
Biting my tongue, I held in the pleasure that fought to escape on a scream.
Split apart I wanted to beg him for more. I wanted him moving inside me, to take my body with his.
I wanted the pain to end, for my cleansing to be complete even though I knew this was just the beginning.
Releasing my neck with his teeth, his free hand ran down my right arm, the tips of his fingers digging into my muscles that were already sore and burning from the position I held. My own hands trembled against the wall where they were still firmly pressed, a tear escaping my eye at the terrible pain his touch elicited.<
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He worked his finger inside me, waves of a building euphoria crashing through me.
Pushing in.
Pulling out.
Slow.
So damn slow.
I held my breath to keep from crying out, my mind spinning from the lack of oxygen. My lip was swollen and bleeding where I’d bitten down.
He pulled his finger free to rub over my clit. My body bucked against him, the release small, not enough…never enough.
I couldn’t hold the position. I crumpled to the mattress. His touch was too much.
Fear shot through me that I’d failed.
Pleasure isn’t really pleasure, not when the feelings raging through you battle against the terror overwhelming your mind.
I curled into a ball on the mattress.
Jacob didn’t touch me, didn’t speak, didn’t move to let me know if he was above me or if he’d left the room.
I was disgrace.
I was shame.
I was desire and need, fire and brimstone.
Had I tarnished him?
Not him…
Minutes felt like hours. My body wouldn’t stop shaking. I couldn’t move my arms and I felt unclean between my legs.
I was a whore.
I was his.
Jacob’s hands were on me, grasping my leg and arm. A startled cry broke free of my lips as he flipped me onto my back.
My robe fell open, exposing every part to him.
I could feel the heat of his breath wash over me. His hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing to a point where I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to reach up to stop him, but even if I could use my arms, it would only make things worse.
Why did I always fail?
Why did he think I was the one when I did nothing but disappoint him?
Picking me up by my throat, he held me so that my arms dangled uselessly by my side. The waiting was unbearable.
Would he?
Wouldn’t he?
My body convulsed in his hold, my lungs screaming for the air they were desperate to draw in.
He laughed.
Soft, sensuous and deep, he laughed.
“Why can you never follow directions, Eve? Why must you always be so disobedient? Accept your place.”
Jacob’s voice was soft, so damn dark. “Confess.”
His hand released, my body falling against the bed while my lungs filled with air. I couldn’t help my tears, couldn’t move to save myself for fear that it would only make the punishment last longer.
“Turn over.”
I tried to obey, but my arms still burned, still refused to move the way I needed them to move. I tried to flop over, but it was useless, I was too terrified.
He grabbed me, flipping me over before I could do as I’d been told.
The slap of his hand against my bottom echoed through the room.
It was followed by another.
And another.
He was relentless, dominant, cruel.
Oh God, he was beautiful.
“Assume the position, Eve. Try again. Never stop trying.”
Crying, I pushed myself up. I forced my arms to support my weight so that I could sit on my knees before placing my hands on the wall.
My face was directed towards the mattress. My body presented for his use.
I waited breathlessly for what he would do.
His fingers played through the skin between my legs and he growled, the sound low and menacing, but still forcing heat to blossom inside me. I wanted to please him, was desperate to please him. I would do anything he asked.
“You’re so ready, so needy, so swollen. If only you could learn to behave. When will you stop fighting?”
His fingers were inside me, stroking me, forcing pleasure along my nerves and through my core.
My body moved of its own volition, my muscles gripping at his fingers greedily. I’d only known a man’s touch from him, but that touch had shown me true divinity. Every time he’d granted me his pleasure, I drifted on clouds that I never knew a person could reach. I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t strong enough or pure enough, and I couldn’t understand why he didn’t see it.
The mattress dipped with his weight.
His hips and legs moved between mine.
I could feel his pants brush my skin.
His mouth was by my ear, my body writhing against his hand. My breath was frantic, the bed below shaking from the way I moved.
“P-please…”
I was almost there, almost in that place that only he had been able to show me.
His fingers pulled away.
A buckle unlatched.
Thick and hard, he pushed against my body.
Teeth sunk into my shoulder. Fingers wrapped around my neck. He pulled his mouth from my skin when he told me to confess.
He pushed inside my body.
Stretched taut, my muscles gripped around him.
My body came alive as my lips parted, as I told him all the ways I had sinned.
“I didn’t believe,” I whispered, “I didn’t try hard enough.”
It was all I could say.
He was moving inside me and I was lost to everything but him.
In and out, back and forth. My sin beaded over my skin.
Temptation had found me.
Trapped to sensation, a slave to his breath against the back of my neck, I pushed my hands against the wall, bit my tongue harder, soared to that place where I could finally let go.
The storm was building. It was teeming. It was a rush of lightning and honey inside me. A burst of shockwaves, lingering until I was drowning.
My muscles pulsed over him.
He pushed impossibly deeper.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t think.
I couldn’t…
His body stilled, the head of his cock buried so deep it was the only thing I could feel.
Like a hopeless addict, I cried out when he pulled away.
Tears slipped down my cheeks to fall to the mattress, my arms burning from the position I refused to release again.
The grit in his voice was my undoing. “Seduce me at all times, Eve. Show me you can behave. Show me how loyal you are. I’ll resist you. I’ll refuse you. I’ll tell you things that can’t possibly be true. You must believe. You must show me that you still hold faith in everything I’ve taught you.” His forehead pressed against the back of my head. “Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Show me the way to forgive you. Show me that I am your only light.”
Nodding my head, I squeaked out, “I’ll do it. No matter what, I won’t give up.”
“Good girl.”
The mattress moved, cold air rushing in to fill in the areas where he’d been pressed to my skin.
“I have something for you. Never take it off.”
Cold metal slipped around my neck, a large pendant hanging now, swinging against my breasts.
I heard his steps moving away from me, but they stopped before he could step out of the room. “Stay as I’ve left you. Do not move until I return.”
The door opened and closed, the room left in silence and darkness as if he’d never been there in the first place.
I was too afraid to move, to glance back to see if he’d truly left or if this was just another one of his tests.
Despite the pain I was in, I held the position.
I swore I wouldn’t move again. It was time for me to prove to him just how loyal I was.
JACOB
So I find this law at work; Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. Romans 7:21
I was exhausted when I woke.
The haunting dreams that taunted me were ceaseless. Crawling from beneath my blankets, I threw my legs over the side of the bed, scrubbing my face with my hands before looking up at the crucifix on my wall.
He stared down at me, the image and symbol of the only being that could grant me salvation from my sins. The only b
eing that could grant me absolution from my past.
After showering and donning my clothes, I fastened the white clerical collar in place, believing that what I carried inside was the worst of the nightmares I would face. Sedra was fresh in my mind, her plight taking up the majority of my thoughts.
How would I avoid her while helping her at the same time?
There were no answers and on this subject, God, as usual, was silent.
I was a priest, a man who was supposed to know exactly how our creator had intended for us to live, but with this situation – this puzzle – all the archaic knowledge written in His book was useless in answering the questions I had.
Battling my own demons while trying to exorcise Eve’s was too much for a man like me. I whispered my vows again as I fell to my knees, hoping in earnest that giving them voice would give them weight. Would give them meaning and the power to mean something when I was faced with temptation.
Finally stepping out of my room, a scream sounded from the sanctuary. My head spun in its direction, my feet carrying me through the empty hall.
Entering the nave, I looked up toward the altar, freezing in place to find a young nun dressed in the white habit of a woman who had not yet taken her vows.
She was slumped down in front of the statue of Mary that stood to the left of the altar, her hands working in the sign of the cross over her shoulders, head and heart.
Horror was written into the nun’s expression when she looked up again.
I, too, was silently lost to the desecration that stood before me.
The normally pure white statue had been mutilated - drawn upon in what appeared to be a dark red color.
Tears streamed from her eyes like blood, her lips were painted to resemble lipstick. Nipples had been drawn over her breasts and the base of robe had been covered to appear as if she’d walked through a slaughter. Whore was written across her forehead, the babe she held had been drawn upon to appear gutted and crushed.
Liquid pooled on the floor where the statue stood. I assumed it was paint despite the noticeable absence of the smell.
Finally pushing myself up, I ran to where the young nun had crumpled. Kneeling down, I prayed beside her.
Unable to close my eyes, I watched her fingers work over the rosary beads, tears streaming down her forlorn face, her lips moving and releasing her prayers on a fast paced whisper.