(Media, Ancient Northwestern Iran, House of Raguel)
~ Sarah ~
Tick tock. Tick tock.
It was already nine in the evening. Damp was my pillow owing to the stream of tears I released since I shut myself inside my room this afternoon. My eyes swelled like a tomato. My throat felt so dry. My chest weighed like it was being loaded with heavy stone boulders.
Every strike of the clock hand inched me forward towards my goal: death. Yes, I had decided to kill myself.
People in my neighborhood had already called me many names: murderer, witch, disease, a whore. I am branded with their unending glares and reproaches. They had called me cursed. They had told me that my soul was already damned in Hell.
Why you ask?
Well, because I lost seven husbands. Before the consummation of our marriage, before they can even touch me, they all suddenly die and I don’t even know why.
“Oh merciful God! Almighty Lord! Why must I suffer like this? Please take me into your hands! I can’t take it anymore. Give me the strength to end my life!” I shouted and raised my arms into the ceiling. In my front lay a kitchen knife I have procured early this morning from the kitchen.
I know killing myself was an absurd idea, but this was the only solution I can think of in order to relieve my family of my problem and save them from embarrassment. My family supports me but I feel that they are scared too. Well, who wouldn’t be right? Seven men are dead and we have no culprit. Their fear was understandable.
My hands shook when I took the knife and held it up; the tip of the blade targeting my heart. Surely, the laundry maid wouldn’t bother washing this beautiful white dress I am wearing when it will be covered with my blood. She will most likely throw it away or even burn it.
As expected, I did not get an answer from my prayer, but I feel a sense of determination come over me. If my life was worthless and my soul already damned in Hell, then I might as well do this.
“I’m sor...ry,” I said with deep, deep, deep regret and sadness whilst looking up at the empty ceiling.
With one swift motion, I dipped the knife down - eyes closed, teeth gritted waiting for the inevitable - but before it would contact my heart, a sudden strong force stopped me and then I felt large hands hold my wrists.
I opened my eyes expecting to see someone in front of me, but I saw no one. I am still alone. Surprise was what immediately registered in my face. What on earth is this?!
I pulled and shook my hand, but the invisible force continued to hold me down. In the middle of taking back control, I then suddenly heard a mystical voice say, “Please don’t, My Dear Heart. My Love. Please don’t kill yourself. I need you.”
It was a man’s voice; strong, firm, with a hint of supremacy, yet it was at the same time soft and tender. I was instantly mesmerized by it.
His words were pleading... asking me to spare my life. It was only natural for me to be frightened by the disembodied voice, but surprisingly, I felt no fear at all. The sincerity in his voice immediately ripped that feeling away.
My mind couldn’t process his words at first, but the moment it did, I broke down and cried heavier than I had been doing since this afternoon; renewed tears flowed endlessly in my cheeks. I had been filled with so many continuous rejections these past few months that it overwhelmed me knowing that I am cared for. That I am needed. Whoever this entity was, he immediately made me feel accepted and loved. I didn’t mind that instant if this was God’s way of answering my plea.
“I’m sorry... so sorry... I had to. This is the only answer,” I said in between sobs. I gasped when the knife was pulled from my hold and flew into the corner of my room, out of my reach. My hands consequently went limp after being relieved of the burden.
“No. I don’t want you to kill yourself. Please... don’t leave me to a place where I cannot follow you,” the entity stated with a warm, lulling voice making me slightly drowsy.
“Who are you?” I asked, naturally curious. My suicidal ideations, I can safely say, was already forgotten because of his sudden presence.
I sat up, my wet eyes scanning the small area of my room trying to find a clue. A shadow, a mist, a butterfly, anything would do. I just want to assure myself that I am not hallucinating. That I am not crazy. I want to see him. I want to see the person behind the lovely voice.
“I am your Guardian Angel, Dear Heart,” he answered and then I felt the foot of the bed dip slightly.
It was a good clue.
I wiped my tears using the back of my hands to make my vision clearer.
A Guardian Angel. Wow... My own Guardian Angel.
The reality of it made my heart jump with joy. Finally, I have someone I can turn to. Someone I can pour all my sadness away. With this revelation, I felt the heaviness in my chest lighten.
“Show yourself please. What is your name?” I asked, really hoping that he would oblige. I do not want to think that I am going crazy now, talking to someone who was invisible. I wanted concrete proof. If he was really my Guardian Angel, he could do this much right?
“I am Aeshma,” he answered plainly and then I saw the depression of the bed disappear. It alarmed me for a moment thinking that he left but then I suddenly felt warm, powerful arms envelope me, followed by a hard chest pressing me from behind.
I whiffed out a lingering smell then, something between roses and spice. I would have turned around to see him but his arms tightened their hold, disabling me on the spot. My heartbeat, if it was already bounding like crazy earlier, even worsened.
“I want to see your face,” I whispered while blushing, feeling sensitive of the way he held me. If he was truly an angel, I wonder if they are allowed to touch humans like this.
“If I show you, will you not scream? I am worried you will be scared of me,” he asked, which by the way was a ridiculous idea. Who on Earth wouldn’t want to see an angel? And who on Earth would be scared of them?
“I will not. I give you my word,” I said calmly.
I waited for probably a full minute until I felt his arms loosen. After that, I turned my head to where a bright light appeared, just near my bed. My eyes widened as I behold the entity stand in all his holy glory. I expected myself to be in awe watching a divine beauty, but I didn’t expect it to be this much. No words could ever describe how speechless I am.
He stood stiff, guarded, but he had soft, glowing golden eyes. His half-spread wings looked beautifully black which was odd because I honestly thought angels have white wings. He had a long black hair up to his knees and he wore what looked like leather armor and pants, in the same shade of shining black. If I can find a better word other than handsome, that would be it because his face... his face was more than ethereal.
I smiled. His expression changed from sad to surprised when he saw it.
“You’re not scared of me?” he asked, obviously fascinated with my reaction.
“As a matter of fact, no. I am not scared of you. You look beautiful,” I stated calmly. It was the most straightforward answer I could give. Then, I saw his eyes twitch a bit, like he was disappointed. I soon realized that something was amiss with my Guardian Angel. Something felt different about him, but out of respect, I didn’t ponder further.
“Promise me you won’t attempt killing yourself again, Sarah?”
The way he asked it was a bit commanding, but it warmed my heart even more. I know it was already expected of my Guardian Angel to worry about me, but there was something behind his words that I couldn’t put my finger on. Come to think of it, what did he mean when he said he needed me? He did call me ‘My Love’ at the same time too. Do Guardian Angels actually use that kind of endearment?
“I promise. As long as you’re here with me. Thank you for giving me hope, Aeshma.”
He smiled a serene smile when I said that and my heart immediately leaped. He really was handsome. If he was a real human, I would have fallen in love with him right on the spot.
But I wonder, what if I can make an exception?
(Present, Winner Estate Forest)
~ Andrea ~
My mind left any reasoning behind when Eriol joined me in the grassy ground. I might probably be right that this was his perverted demon power overwhelming me, but heck, I want him badly now, so much that I can disregard the fact that we were not in a comfortable bed.
He kissed me again, doing his signature tongue swirls in my mouth. I opened it widely to give him more access and so that my tongue can do wonders on his mouth too.
I licked the tip of his piercing, instantly feeling its metal coldness. I have seen a lot of males wearing accessories like him but this was the first time ever I find it sexy.
He groaned under his breath when I grazed my hands on his male planes. Yes. He was indeed right when he said I wanted to touch them earlier. I am taking advantage of the situation now since my hands had been itching to do it.
He brought his kisses harder this time - sucking, biting and thrusting it - all the while doing magical hand massages on my breast and waist with his right hand.
Gods. I had to admit that he really is one Prince of Lust because he definitely knows what he is doing.
I guided my hands down to his belly and traced my fingers in those beautifully-sculpted cracks of his waist. I know I am a virgin but I do have foreknowledge what this action could do to a man - even to a demon in disguise.
He immediately grabbed my left hand, stopping their sensual stroking and then I heard him groan loudly.
“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. You are so naughty Andrea. You’re really testing my patience,” he said in frustration.
I grinned in victory.
“Be patient. I still have to give you your favorite,” he continued after withdrawing and sitting in my side. A twinkle of mischief was, for a moment, visible in his eyes.
“My favorite?” I echoed, confused of what he said. I saw him pull something out of his leather pants pocket and lifted it up for me to see. It was a pink jelly material, just half the size of his palms. It was flat, shaped like a curved triangle, with flaps on each side.
My mind couldn’t register what it was, but I have a feeling it had something to do with his wicked smile.
He joined me once again and I immediately felt his weight on top me.
“It is a shame you are wearing jeans now, but no bother, I can still make it real good for you,” he stated sexily, grazing his lips in the shell of my ear.
Ohhh... What a lovely feeling.
He kissed the plane of my neck, nibbled on my earlobe, and sucked on a skin in my jaw he had managed to capture with his mouth. I know my attention was all focused on these acts alone but it didn’t prevent me to notice his hands slowly unzipping my jeans.
He effortlessly inserted two of his fingers in my underwear like I don’t even have the jeans on. I yelped as I felt the cold, flat jelly object press into the pad of my pussy just above my clit. I didn’t understand why he did so, but when it started to vibrate that’s when I realized what it was.
“Ahhh!”
“Easy An..dre..ahh...” he stated when I immediately pushed myself up, surprised by the vibration. He didn’t let me, jailing my arms on each side so that I would be lying on the ground stilll.
“A vibrator is not my favorite!” I cried when I saw him grin widely, obviously enjoying my little pleasure.
“You prefer a dildo then?” he clarified quickly.
Oh my goodness! He actually said it!
That infuriated me.
“Obviously NOT! But that’s besides the point! Take it out Eriol please!”
I huffed, feeling gradually hot down there. I only realized that it was just the start when the freaking vibrator intensified. As in IN.TEN.SI.FIED!!!
“Ahhhh!” I screamed again when my clit responded. Shit. So this is what it feels like to have this pleasure toy. No wonder women my age love this.
“An..dre..ahh... Are you sure you want me to take it out?” Eriol asked huskily, still looking at me with those lustful eyes of his.
“YES!” I cried. Gods. I cried. But I don’t even know if I was answering his question or I was praising the exquisite moment.
“Yes what Andrea? Tell me what you want.”
Shit. Does he really need to hear me say it?!
I tried to stand again, shoving him out of my way, but he was adamant on rooting me in place.
“Eriol...” I uttered. I got the right response from him when I felt his hard erection nudge at the side of my leg.
“Accept it An..dre...ahh... Don’t hold back. I can feel your arousal building up.”
He kissed me again, not waiting for me to respond. I am not sure though what to even say to him.
Feeling defeated, I closed my eyes and did as he said, giving in to the new sensation and kissing him back. I couldn’t deny it. It was wonderful actually. Congratulations to the inventor who made this vibrator by the way; whoever he or she is.
Minutes came to pass as I reveled with his kisses and the vibrations in my pussy. I tried to keep myself from moaning, but oh Lord, I just can’t. It was actually impossible not to be vocal.
Eriol slowly pulled out and observed me. He gave me a delighted smile then. I am quite sure he was thoroughly entertained seeing me like this.
“Eriol, stop looking at me...” I ordered in a huff.
“You look beautiful Andrea, just as beautiful as you are back then. Don’t tell me to stop looking at you. I would never do that.”
His free hand then wormed its way inside my jeans and directly situated itself in my slit. Two fingers found my passage and started to caress it.
I gasped with the familiar feeling.
He gently massaged the rim of my pussy before finally inserting his immaculate fingers in an ‘in and out’ fashion. I can’t even explain the sensation I felt then except that it was OUT-OF-THIS-WORLD!
“Moan for me An..dre..ahhh... Let me hear your perverted whimpers,” he demanded huskily.
I bit my bottom lip. “Please... Eriol. Stop it. I can’t - the vibrations. I can’t take it anymo-”
He cut me off by molding his mouth on mine again and despite my complaints, I didn’t waste time on returning back his zealous attention.
His tongue swirling against my tongue, the vibrations, and his divine fingers sliding in and out of my pussy were enough to make me forget my sense of reasoning again. I would have been finally lost, would have finally surrendered to my orgasm when one unholy moment later I heard the snapping of branches outside the willow tree and then Enrique’s voice suddenly calling out my name.
“Andrea!”
Shit! It’s Enrique! It’s Enrique! my mind immediately snapped.
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