devil inside #2
I try to lift myself up and kiss her, but Lilith pins me down, gripping each wrist and holding me in place. She stares at
me, suspended above, nearly levitating, relishing her control over me.
“Wait.”
“No,” she insists. “No more waiting.”
I push back. This time, she doesn’t relent. I need to fight, forcing my arms up. Lilith isn’t going to give up so quickly.
I manage to sit upright. Lilith tilts, her body adjusting along with mine, until she’s sitting in my lap, straddling me. She
has no choice but to let my wrists go and I find myself finally free to meet her. Grab hold of the back of her neck and kiss
her.
I find her throat first. She swallows, then gasps, and I can feel the muscles in her neck constrict. I work my way down her
throat, kissing her neck as I sink. I follow a bead of sweat down her chest, chasing it through the expanse of flesh between
her breasts.
There is a sheen of perspiration across her skin that I lick, soaking into my own skin.
I want to taste it all.
Lilith finds my cock, full now. She takes hold of the shaft, hand rising, sliding up and down, before guiding me inside her.
Once I’m within her, her back arches. She curls away. The gasp that escapes her mouth is abrupt, followed by a moan, and I
suddenly wonder if she’s releasing herself, the demon within, spilling out from her mouth and into the air.
She’s facing the ceiling, bending even further. How her spine doesn’t snap is a mystery. Her shoulders shudder, swaying up and down, as if she’s shaking something off.
It’s an exaltation. The spirit has entered her body.
Lilith returns to me, spine tightening, a near snap in her back like a whip crack, as she wraps one arm around my shoulders
and starts to ride. Her hips find a steady rhythm, slow at first, methodical, exploring the parameters of our union, feeling
me inside.
Her eyes are closed. She’s losing herself within.
When they open, her eyes find me.
Look at her. The ecstasy of saints.
Lilith gasps and I inhale along with her. Our breath syncopates, a locomotive huff. Her hips pick up their pace, more forceful
now, grinding now, as she lapses backward, her body bending away from me, spine arching over until her breasts reach the summit
of herself, this monument of her body, and I am worshipping it, worshipping her, sacrificing myself.
Her eyes roll back. The irises are long gone. I’m left with nothing but white. Her mouth hangs open, gasping for air that
isn’t there.
I merely watch on, terrified and tantalized and utterly consumed by it all.
I’m about to lose control. Let go. Release myself.
Not yet. Not now. I need to witness this transformation. This vulgar display.
I see Lilith rise. The flesh distorts, no longer bound by the laws of our bodies, our skin. She is rising, lifting herself
and me along with it. We are no longer servants to gravity. To God. To heaven or hell. It’s just us now, us here, our bodies
merging, communing as one.
I feel her slip inside me.
It’s subtle at first. A soft pressure within me. Then it grows. The pressure mounts, the very presence of—of whatever this
is—as if something were expanding, swelling inside.
An aneurysm. A haunting. A knife. My insides shift, making room.
For her. For Lilith.
Forever Lilith.
I find fresh chambers to fill. New cavities to inhabit. I want to permeate him. Occupy all he has to offer, every inch of
his existence. I want to fill him up to the brim, until we spill.
We want to consume him. Guzzle it all. Blood from the goblet of his body.
We grip onto his skin and hold on. Take control and ride, ride like we are still on his bike, taking on this city, finding
that steep hill and plunging.
We squeeze, constricting, tightening around his member. Then we release just as quickly, the tension relenting in our thighs,
letting go for just a moment, an aching breath, desperate for air. Suffocating ourselves. We can’t find enough air to breathe.
To live.
We pull Jordan into us, as close as we can. Closer. There can’t be any boundaries between us. Any borders to separate one
from the other. Not our bodies, not our flesh.
Our darkness. Our evil.
We tighten once again. Every muscle within our body coils, squeezes. Just as we sense that we are on the verge of climax,
the overwhelming flame spreading, fire everywhere, burning throughout our body, the blaze consuming, the tension ebbing, everything
slipping.
I let go. Release myself from my host.
Let me in . . .
I pour into him. I unspool, a serpent unwinding itself around its suffocated prey, and find a fresh chasm to inhabit, flooding
into Jordan. His body below.
His flesh is a vessel and I fill every inch. I give him everything, all of me.
He feels me enter. Feels me flood, overwhelming him, I am so certain of it. His breathing sharpens, a knife blade in the chest, a single gasp like a stab in his lungs.
Jordan is at the precipice of his own orgasm.
“Oh God . . .”
He’s going to come. Lose himself within us.
“Oh God . . .”
I hear Jordan call out for his god, his savior. I want his lips to wriggle over mine, worms mincing words, feeding off the
same dead sentences over and over and over.
I want to hear him call out my name.
I am Lilith.
Lilith.
Mine is not a name that may draw down mercy, but rather stir up wrath. Enkindle indignation. Because when people fuck, they
don’t call out the name of their lover.
They call out for God.
The second you come, the Lord’s name is on your lips. So you better start praying, Jordan. The gates of heaven are open at
your mouth. God is with us, who hath shown His power! But when you pray, remember this: It’s really me who you’re beseeching.
So say my name. Say it.
“Lilith—”
Yes.
“Lilith!”
His spine tightens. He gasps. The tendons in his neck constrict, the cords like piano wire struck so hard, they release a
painful note. But he doesn’t let go. Doesn’t stop. So near. So close.
One. Only one.
I feel him release inside my host, a diffusion of fluids, of ourselves, him into me and me into him, the two of us drifting, swirling, absorbing one another in one last frantic gasp.
I am inside him and he is inside me. I am possessing him, inhabiting his body, and he’s possessing me, the two of us intertwined.
I am within him. I explore the parameters of his flesh.
His blood. There’s a destiny here. I feel free, free to inhabit him, to explore the very boundaries of his body, untapped, and in that moment, I know, I know what it’s like to be inside him—to be him. The very essence of his existence.
We are one now. Burning together. I have found a new, unexplored chamber in the heart. An untapped cavity in the body. A space
to inhabit together.
To possess.
And for a moment, just one brief, blinding moment, we call him home.
How long Lilith is inside me is anyone’s guess. Seconds. A breath. Several breaths. An eternity. I don’t want it to end. I
never want to lose this feeling. I want to live here.
Lilith’s back suddenly arches over, so suddenly, her ribs rising up from beneath her skin, I can’t help but wonder if they’re
going to grab me.
Her hips buckle. Limbs bend back. This is not human. The orgasm that racks through her body sends her arms twining into ragged
angles that resemble a washed-up spider. A spasming arachnid, the orgasm shivering through all its limbs.
I feel her come again and I’m not so far behind. I let go. I lose myself in her. Release. It’s like the heavens opening.
Or maybe it’s hell.
Who knows?
Who cares.
It feels fucking incredible. That’s all that matters. This moment. Right now.
With her.
When our bodies finally pull apart, limbs untangling, and we are sent rolling over the bed until we both settle onto our backs,
I feel her slipping out. Like uprooting a flower. The roots of her reach down so deep into me, suddenly plucked, I can’t help
but feel as if she’s taking chunks of my skin with her, the topsoil of my flesh ruptured by the release of her grip.
I feel so empty without her. Absolutely cratered.
Lilith collapses onto the mattress just next to me, out of breath. Her entire body slackens, pressing against me. There’s
no resistance. No fight. We’re both exhausted.
Exorcised.
Every song you have ever listened to, I can hear them through you. There is a music in you. All the songs that have yet to
be written, the stories waiting to be told.
Every film you ever watched, I can see them now.
Every painting you ever took in. Such lush colors. Warm blood. A canvas of flesh.
Every memory is embedded in your body and I take them all in.
You are all of these things, Jordan.
You are a work of art.