Just. One. Kiss.

{No sooner had the words come out...I would call on this Chosen, than a shadow of uncertainty darkens the innocence of your features, lips parting as though about to protest, revealing the small, razor pointed tips of fangs, and on a distracted impulse, the pad of my gloved thumb strokes wet, back and forth, across your full lower lip, imagining how it would feel to bruise that beautiful mouth with my own, to plunder the breath from your lungs, to feel those lips against my skin and watch them form the syllables of the words as you begged…screaming my name in unfettered ecstasy... Fuck it, the moment you opened your mouth it was game over, any protest utterly futile, just dying in your throat with the growl of animal possession ripping from my own, the words may have come out measured, but the only thing in control right now was the rampaging lust that was getting busy trampling  all over any decent thought my brain could offer up, sparking sexual chemistry in the breath of space separating us and from the fearful crease of your brow and the torn look in your jewel-green eyes, caught somewhere between trepidation and exhilaration, it's clear we both know you aren't getting out of here intact... the insanity of raw, sexual hunger in glazed over diamond eyes reflecting back at me through the wide-eyed emerald mirrors of yours...a sense of inevitability, destiny even in the magnetic draw that sees my free hand move beneath the water to the base of your spine, closing the distance in a fluid surge, locking your body flush against the hard-muscled wall of resistance that is mine, the thick ridge of my erection pressing into your belly, a rigid, iron demand, the saturated muslin sheath the only barrier between us, all but transparent, your nipples dusky through the fabric, the pebbled tips grazing my chest, breath coming in panted growls that rise up above the pounding spray of the waterfall, heart beating out a primal drumbeat, a barely restrained beast, lips curling back off tiger fangs of their own volition, bloodlust snarling me in a red haze, a single word emblazoned in monolithic flaming letters across the billboard of my cerebral cortex...MINE!!!!.....}

*The heat overpowers even the steam rising from the lapping waters, such a furnace stoked from flickering embers at your touch that it rides through my body in a wave to pool between trembling thighs. Your diamond eyes scorch through to my bones, arousing shocks under my skin, closer, ever closer, inching through water at the drawing demand of your hypnotic presence. And I have no control. All rite and ritual, all propriety, all teachings dismissed and replaced by a visceral need to feed into the sexual energy swirling in the misting heat coiling in the pool's atmosphere....is this how they felt? My sisters? Did the fire consume their veins and race to rise passion through every inch? Did they melt under the intensity of the Primale's gaze..like a candle...sturdy and strong..until the fire licks it into ripples of molten liquid and curves bow eagerly into the possessive touch claiming my skin....breasts heavy and aching, crushed to the muscled wall of your chest, my instincts are screaming at me with primal passion to close the distance between our lips, to seal a kiss to the growling lust exposing daggered fangs....fingers tentatively curling into your skin, emerald eyes bright with permission, with need, arousal and begging silently for...Just. One. Kiss…<<You disobey the very vows you spoke by engaging here, Chosen. Hie thee from this place and I will deal with your insubordinate disgrace later>> Very nearly crawling up your muscled form, the sharp iron voice snapping through the quiet shatters all desire into fragments of ice and banishes me from your touch in a scatter of Chosen shrapnel, forcing myself from the fiery haven of your lust into the glacial waters of the Directrix' disapproving anger...cowed under her glare,  head bowed, body curved into lines of rigid submission, the expected respect is duly shown through a breathless, desire tremored form, angled into the lowest bow I can muster without drowning...I do not want her wrath turned upon me in punishment....* Yes Directrix, apologies, Directrix...I plead your forgiveness...*The words grate. To scrape so low when moments before my passion had been a living thing in my soul, turning white to flaring vivid colour in my heart* <<The water rids itself of your presence, Chosen. Remove yourself and hie back to your temple. I will join you in due time.>> *casting a blushing, ashamed glance of acute embarrassment up to your face, a silent apology, my hands fight to conceal intimate curves, too clearly delineated through the transparent shift, as good as naked to your eyes as step after rigid step wades me farther from your presence. Eyes downcast, the pools edge is an eternity away under the Directrix' fury*

{I feel the loss of you like a part of myself wrenched away, every instinct roaring for me to follow, but suddenly acutely aware of the vulgar size of my erection bobbing beneath the water...fuck, the bitch Directrix was just standing there, glowering, hands hanging, no offer of a towel or robe to preserve your modesty, taking some sadistic pleasure in humiliating you with the exposure…wading to the edge of the pool, my own robe fisted, diamond stare loaded with a thousand unanswered questions as I offer the silk bundle to you, the defiant set of your jaw betraying the subservience of your downcast eyes, gifting me the briefest flash of feline emerald as you snatch the robe from my extended hand, turning on your heel in a sodden pirouette and just like that your delicate feet are slapping wetly across the marble, your bearing provocative, a blatant disobedience in the enticing sway your hips, the translucent fabric plastered to every lusciously wet curve, the unworn robe slung over one extended forearm, trailing across the marble...totally owning that walk of shame...and how fucking sexy was that?...this female did things to me, irrational, visceral, primal things over which I had no fucking control...Chemistry? Bewitchment? Who the fuck knows, all I know is that the Chosen is MINE!!......}

*A nightmare, an embarrassing nightmare...that did nothing to quell the desire rising heat back into my body, the Primale’s robe tucked tight into my hand, the barest brush of your skin to mine chasing the Directrix' chill from my flesh and setting me alight once more...she loves this, the degradation, the humiliation placed under a facade of respect, teaching, punishing correcting bad behaviour with consequences that will make you never want to disobey again. But you arent looking at me with diamond disgust, you dont care that I broke a sacred vow...you dont know that I broke a sacred vow…I'm just...female to you…and it thrills my spine from its bow of subservience, sodden robed curves swaying to the fiery beat of primitive emotion. Riding up the defiance that only glitters in lowered eyes, your robe is merely held, tightly, gifting me the courage to disobey and...what is the word....strut...across pure marble, padding through the innocence and elegance of the Sanctuary with nothing but your scent and the thin cover of my under-sheath to clothe me....exhilarating, Chosen values shed for mere minutes more as the pools are left in my wake and I pray that my sisters do not venture from the Temple before I am concealed in mine. Heart attacks for sure would be the casualty of the day and I want no more than to dwell in silence, fill my temple with your scent...with memories of our bath that will haunt, arouse for all eternity*

{The Directrix is up in my grille, proffering a towel to preserve my modesty...like I give a fuck at this point...absently slinging the towel low on my hips as I surge up out of the water, her face deflating my arousal like a stuck balloon, squaring up in front of her, a hulking semi-naked warrior, water streaming over the sculpted contours of my body, puddling on the marble around my size fourteen feet…the focus of wet lashed diamond eyes trained on the empty space the Chosen’s departing form occupied right before she rounded the corner and walked out of my life...becoming vaguely aware the Directrix is speaking, gaze reluctantly dragged back to her face…all of the Chosen were disturbingly beautiful....made you wonder what they did with the ones that didn't make the cut, probably drowned them at birth, like kittens, in the Scribe Virgin's fountain. The Directrix was no exception, beautiful, but in a hard, angular way, auburn hair scraped back so severely from her high forehead it looked like a bad facelift... Yeah, female looked like somebody who would drown kittens, true no amount of good bone structure could hide an ugly attitude <<Your Grace, I apologize for this unacceptable intrusion on your private bathing. Rest assured a period of 'contemplation' in the temple of atonement will soon chasten the female's insubordination>> my eyes dart back again to that empty space, before pinning the Directrix with an arctic glare} You are going to punish her? What the hell for? She did nothing wrong <<Verily, your Grace, the Chosen's presence here shames her duty and disgraces the Sisterhood. Such a transgression must not go unpunished>> {her shrill, imperious tone grates like nails drawn down a blackboard and I find myself biting back a feral snarl} As Primale, the Directrix is answerable to me, true? {it just fucking kills her to concede the point, which she does with only a curt nod, dark eyes narrowing perceptibly} As Primale, it is my will that the female not be punished for what transpired today. It was an unfortunate mistake, nothing more {Liar. It was fucking fate, if you believed in that shit, true} What did she do that was so disgraceful? {ditching prayers was hardly grounds for punishment. The ghost of a sardonic smile deforms the Directrix' mouth as she speaks in her high, clipped tone, barely concealing her delight in offloading her burden of knowledge} <<As a Sequestered Scribe, she has sworn herself to a life of utter seclusion, whereupon she records the illustrious history of the race. With your ascendancy, all of the Chosen were offered a release from such vows, but, at her own behest, she chose to stay in the service to the Scribe Virgin rather than serve the Primale as her Sisters do>> {Fuck!! The implications slapped home like a palmful of wet mud in the face. Sequestered Scribe. Which meant she had privileged access to the Far Side, true. She had seen me...I knew it in my gut, the Chosen had watched me...fuck…. wet gloved hand scrubbing over the nape of my neck...explained a lot, true, like that expression in her eyes...the knowing look when I said the word Lheage...and it explained why a life of isolation was preferable to subjecting herself to the kind of hard rutting, depraved sex that was my trademark...a growl of frustration torn from my throat unbidden...I could pull rank..fuck, even thinking it just proved what a bastard I was. Much as I felt like ripping out the Directrix' throat right now, I had to admit she'd done the Chosen a favour. I'd been totally ready to take her against her will... She didn't want me touching her, had gone to the lengths of avowing against it, I would not force her, I'm not a rapist, not a fucking animal... but already a body and soul craving was clawing its talons into my flesh from inside, consumed, possessed by thoughts of her...an insatiable, insane appetite that only the forbidden fruit of the Chosen could slake... Fuck I didn't even know the female's name and it was only after she left that I realized she had taken with her that incredible scent of fresh rain and thunderstorms...along with a part of me...}