16. Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Britt
The Cleansing
I couldn’t see a fucking thing. My heart was pounding in my chest. My brain was battling with my heart; my fight or flight turned all the way up as I felt hands all over my body. I trusted Derek, though; if he said I was safe, then I must be because I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wouldn’t let one hair on my head be harmed.
I allowed my body to become fluid. I could feel myself getting lifted onto some sort of couch or chair and carried through the dark space. It was almost pitch black, with the exception of white curtains and white lights at the top of the ceiling every two or three feet. Sweet cinnamon filled the air and saturated my senses, helping me feel at peace.
A humming sound filled the space; it reminded me of something, but I couldn’t put a finger on it. It sounded like a consistent drumming, low but powerful. As I floated through the sea of people, I could feel the energy of Derek closer, the magnetic pull we had closing in.
They kept moving with me toward him, and then it became clear that it wasn’t drums but chanting. I couldn’t tell what they were saying, but it was definitely Latin.
I felt a soft thud as they placed me down. And then the chanting stopped, and the lights came on. It wasn’t too bright but more of a soft, shadowy glow. There was a balance of light and darkness here. Fitting for us, my eyes were drawn to the glass clawfoot tub on my right. I sat up and looked over my shoulder to see where they had brought me from. A crowd of masks were looking up at me on this stage. A voice boomed through the space,
“Kneel to the order of the sons of Knight.” In a domino effect, all the men kneeled, and every woman paired with him placed her hand on his shoulder. Derek approached me, and I didn’t know why I hadn’t noticed his outfit sooner. It was a black-on-black velvet suit with a solid black mask. I turned to stare at everyone in the audience, who were all wearing red. Two women approached me, and Derek stepped up, holding up one hand that stopped them in their tracks.
“I will undress her; my hands will be the only ones to touch her.” he kneeled before me, his hands running down my leg as he removed my heels. I stepped down and lifted my other foot so he could continue. Still on his knees, he removed my thigh highs, rolling them down my calves. It shouldn’t turn me on, but my breath hitched, and he noticed, looking up at me, my king, kneeling before me, his queen. His eyes were full of fire and lust. I licked my lips, and he smirked. “I can’t wait to take you,” he spoke loud enough for my ears only. He stood up, lifting my dress along the way. I raised my hands, submitting to him, trusting him. My breasts were on full display as he leaned in to kiss them, removing my thong. He was smooth as fuck right now, I would give him that. He stood straight up and snapped his fingers, and the two women from earlier handed him a sheer robe; I was not sure why, but my heart began to race as he placed it on me. The chanting started again. Quietly, this time, the booming voice spoke again.
“See the girl” like soldiers. Every head turned. “Praise her, as our son claims her, the president knight, Derek, a god among men.
“We praise her,” they replied in unison.
“Midnight is here. May the cleansing begin.” I looked up at Derek, his hand held out as if to lead me somewhere. His eyes darted to the tub, and I followed suit. When we reached the tub, he paused and began to remove every article of his clothing. A bit of rage run through me, and I tightened my fists. I didn’t want anyone to see him. He belonged to me, mine. “It’s okay, trouble; no one has ever had me like you, and no one ever will.” Some of the tension eased, and I breathed, trying to relax. The woman rushed up, removed our clothing from the heaps on the floor, and handed Derek a glass pitcher.
I finally glanced into the tub and saw the most enchanting concoction. Dried flowers and milk? It was beautiful. He stepped in before me and reached for my hand once more. I stepped in, and he ordered me to sit. I obeyed, surprising even myself. He filled the pitcher to the brim and began to speak.
“Every flower surrounding us has a purpose, intending to cleanse away any negativity and trauma, replacing those things with love, luck, peace, healing, fertility, and strength. As I cleanse you, I claim you. Your heart, your soul, are mine forever.” His words pulled at my heartstrings, my eyes watering as emotions flooded my chest. His eyes piercing as he looked into mine, “Close your eyes.” I felt the warm mixture wash over me as he poured it. My nipples hardened, and I clenched my thighs. I didn’t know why something so simple seemed so sexual. It had to be because it was him, my caveman. “I cleanse you,” he stated firmly.
“He has cleansed her” reverberated through the air.
“She is cleansed,” our audience repeated.
“ Now, open your eyes.”