Page 303 of Castings & Curses

I can’t sleep. Summer is upon us, and even the breeze flowing in through the open window won’t lighten the heat radiating from me. Thinking about Bella has this effect on me. I’m all hot and flustered. I need a drink. I toy with the idea of going to the kitchen wearing only my undies, but that would be asking for trouble. I turn to the wardrobe. Its mysterious content might have something I can put on easily.

Amid the ball gowns and other dresses, I find a golden, flowing robe made of the softest silk. I slip it on and bask in the luxurious feeling. It’s like feathers dancing on my skin. I make my way to the kitchen, enjoying the sound of the textile flapping in the breeze of my movements. I feel like a movie star, gliding down the stairs barefoot in my golden gown.

I stop short in the middle of the staircase. Bella is in the great hall, dancing in the soft light of the chandelier to a music she alone can hear. Her hair flows in a cascade of gold with every twirl and ballet jumps. Her face is the picture of bliss, eyes closed and a soft smile stretching her lips. I watch her lose herself in happiness as she performs a choreography to the beats of whatever music soothes her heart.

Her eyelids suddenly fly open, and she spots me at once. She freezes, eyes widened with the same embarrassment that reddens her cheeks. She shies away at first before standing tall and defiant as she takes off her earPods.

“Don’t stop on my account,” I implore her as I rush down the rest of the stairs. “You’re so gifted!” And gorgeous. So fucking gorgeous.

She turns away, and I fear I’ve offended her. Fuck. I thought we were past that. I thought we had a connection. Shit. She doesn’t leave, though. Instead, she goes to one of the statues and tinkers with something hidden behind it. At once, music floods the hall. Classical, a waltz or something. She swirls towards me and holds out her hand.

“Oh, er... I don’t really dance,” I utter. I’m a klutz and a half when it comes to dancing with a partner. Except slow dance, but anyone can do that. I’ve got moves on the floor on my own, but it takes coordination to tango with someone else. And trust. Also, intimacy. My cheeks burn just to think of it.

“Come on, I’ll lead you. Do you trust me?”

Ha. There it is. Do I? It’s me I don’t trust not to flunk it all; the dance and whatever budding relationship we have. Still, I give her my hand.

Bella pulls me against her at once. She’s so strong. It’s impressive, because she seems so fragile sometimes, almost breakable. She’s athletic, skinny really. Not the kind of body you’d think holds much strength. But her grasp is firm, and she makes me twirl and bend like I’m weightless. Her leadership is natural, and I follow her soft impulses with no restraint. Her stare is mesmerizing, and I lose myself in it, letting her body guide mine as our souls make contact.

The silk of my gown glides on my legs as we waltz through the hall, and from the corner of my eyes, I realize things have changed. I glance at the marble hall. Everything shines as though it’s just been polished. The statues seem animated, if not alive. The glow from the chandelier is stronger and the crystals glitter like a thousand stars, shimmering on the walls and the velvet curtains in myriad diamond-shaped rainbows. The golden contours of the library’s door appear more solid gold and less frayed paint. The gloom has been cast outside the sparkling clean giant windows, and I can even spot the moon in the sky just above the dark tree line.

I stare back into Bella’s eyes and find something different there, too. Desire and longing burn in her cerulean irises. Her hand on the small of my back presses me even closer. We share breath, and I’m suddenly very aware of my short, scattered breathing. Also, I hope to all the gods it doesn’t smell funky. She doesn’t seem bothered. Not by that, anyway. Her gaze becomes more insistent. It’s like she wants me to make the first move, but I can’t. I’m not in control of myself anymore.

As if my subconscious heard my plea, I find myself leaning towards her. We watch each other closely, both unsure of what should happen; then our lips touch. Just a brush, but it sends jolts of desire down my spine. I don’t know who kisses who, but our lips lock and my eyes close in delight as our tongues intertwine.

Everything from that second is just pure paradise. She crushes me against her, passion leaking through her kiss. Her fingers grasp every inch of my skin through the golden silk until she lifts one of my legs and rests it on her hips, taking a firm hold of my butt in her amazingly powerful hands. Fuck yes! I’ve had dudes do that to me, thinking they were starring in a hot B-Movie, but none of them could hold a candle to this goddess. Her strength is exhilarating. I’m a big woman, no shame about that, but she looks so delicate. And yet… She’s tall, though; I realize that now as she towers over me and plunges her stare into mine. Ugh, could she be more gorgeous?

Her hair caresses my denuded right shoulder. That long lock that’s hiding her scarred eye. I let go of her nape to move the strand of gold aside. She freezes but lets me. As I observe her miraculously unscathed eye, I draw closer and kiss the scar—above, under. I could cut the intensity of her stare with a chainsaw. I stand there, watching her, seeing her, the music drowning in my ears. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have found her. And that she seems to want me as much as I want her.

In a flash, she lifts me off the ground effortlessly. I grab her nape for comfort, but I have no doubt she can hold me. She ascends the stairs, and all I can do is drown in contemplation of her. Soon, we’re in my room. As she lays me down on my bed, I realize we haven’t said a word at all since we’ve started this fantastic dance. Maybe I am dreaming, but if that’s the case, I don’t want to wake up. Ever. I’m under her spell, and I fear the slightest misplaced breath could ruin everything. I won’t stop breathing though because her smell is intoxicating. Cinnamon and berries. I’m in heaven.

She unfastens the belt of my night-gown and lays the pans aside. My panties are nothing sexy, but she doesn’t care. She takes them off without a second thought. I love her energy. She knows what she wants, and she goes for it. Usually, that would be me in a girl-on-girl session. I’m the assertive one. It makes up for my fear of being judged. If I seem aggressive enough, the other girl won’t figure out that I’m scared she won’t like my body after all.

But that’s not why Bella acts like this. I’m her prey. She has me under her thumb, but she’s not playing. Bella goes straight for the kill. She licks me first, smelling my skin and tasting the goods. She nibbles on my tits and bites at my neck, squishing my butt in one hand as the other grabs at my hair.

I push her away. Her quizzical look amuses me, but I’m not mean. I take off her t-shirt because there’s no way I’m letting her have all the fun. I want to taste her skin too and play with her perfectly perky boobs. I think she gets it, because a smile tugs at her lips when I pull her pants and undies down in one move. She leans down and kisses me, a deep and longing kiss, and I take her down on the bed with me, skin on skin, her weightless body shifting featherlike against mine.

Her fingers dance on my tits as her tongue plays with mine, and soon, they make their way down to my clit and dance there too, faster, smoother, with more insolence. She’s a master at it. I had an inkling when I saw her play the cello yesterday. Now I know the fantasy playing in my mind as I listened to the soulful music wasn’t even close to the reality hitting me in waves of pure pleasure.

I arch my back and moan, ripples of delectation awakening my skin in myriad spikes of goosebumps. Bella grins, voracious, avid for my flesh. She sinks her teeth into my neck, gently enough that it doesn’t hurt, beastly enough that I moan louder as more jolts of desire scour my entire body. I’m at her mercy.

I don’t want her to stop. She doesn’t. She keeps going, her fingers penetrating me, searching for that spot inside that makes me go nuts. She finds it, titillates, twirls, her thumb doing a number on my clit at the same time. I give in; resistance is futile. My moans grow wild, my body takes on a life of its own, twisting, arching, jolting. My breath evades my control, galloping like horses on the beach, free, fast. It soars, and so do I. I sing, exploding in a firework of pleasure and bliss.

Bella’s towering over me, taking in the result of her work. I know I’m a mess, sweaty, out of breath, eyes darting this side and that, completely blown out of my mind, my body shivering with the aftermath of this incredible orgasm she gave me. But she glares at me with such pride, such gentleness too. She’s made me come like no one ever has, and she knows it.

“Hey there,” she whispers before licking her fingers.

“Hi,” is all my breathing turmoil allows me to reply.

I adore her, and I need to let her know. In one move, I grab her waist and bring her back to me. We kiss and I use this opportunity to take the high ground.

“Your turn.” I lick my lips in a hint at what’s coming her way.

“You don’t have to,” she says, rolling her head to the side so her hair covers her blushing face.

I flinch. I can’t help the fear from looming closer. I may love my body and have exorcized most of my demons, I still second-guess others’ motives for desiring me. I’ve been there before. Used, abused, then rejected, as if I wasn’t good enough, or worthy enough, to give them a taste of Nirvana. Like I should feel grateful they’d even consider taking me there before leaving me on the bed, as wet and ashamed as a used handkerchief.

But that’s not it. She’s not ashamed of me. She’s just not used to receiving any kind of affection, let alone be the focus of someone else’s desire. I hover over her and rake that lock of hair away from her magnificent jawline. Taking my time, I kiss it all the way up to her temple, then down onto the side of her nose. She smiles.

---