Song "My Black Love" by Sessomorte


Her body surged with twisted electricity. Her mind, hazy and incoherent, could do nothing but ride the tide as the searing throbs ebbed and flowed. Her back arched in an involuntary shudder that forced its way up her spine in a sick collision of pleasure and pain. She no longer could separate the two, nor did she wish to do so. One was as essential as the other; two sides of a coin, each side giving purpose to the other side, neither side existing without the other. Both welled within her and she could only imagine feeling dull and unfulfilled if one were lost to her.

The sensual agony was a liquid drug that flowed through her veins and seared her synapses. She hated that she loved how control and cognition was stripped from her, that she had become addicted with the need for this violation. It wasn't until much later, after the buzz of a high that was way too high faded, that she could recall a sense of dignity that had been indifferently brushed aside - as if her objections, if they bothered to exist any longer, would be a thing to be ridiculed if acknowledged at all. She used to feel more at odds with this. Her pride used to scream at her more loudly – but the echo of her need had finally overcome the voice of her reason.

From somewhere far away, she heard a deep, throaty groan. She wasn't sure from whom it came. She didn't care. Instead, she raked her nails violently down his back and bit her lip when he responded with harsher thrusts and a faster tempo.

When he came to her – hours? Days? Before now, she had feebly attempted to stay him. She had known it to be a farce. He had treated it for what it was. They had never spoken of what was between them before. Speaking was a mockery. Only with their actions could they truly ever understand one another. And so nights were spent drowning in their shared obsession. It was only when they came together in a passionate frenzy again and again that she truly understood every night could only ever end with another piece of her soul submitting to his darkness.

She ached for the moment when she would be completely consumed.

ooOoo

Hours after the crescendo, as they lay tangled together in twisted bed sheets, thoughts began to come back to her. Her body still thrummed with his heat, and lethargy almost pulled her into slumber. She sighed, succumbing to the shadows in her mind when her voice – a soft, breathy whisper - escaped her lips without awareness, allowing words to spill out before she knew what they would be.

"You're so cruel to treat me the way that you do. When I'm on fire for you, you're so cruel… Letting me burn like I do."

She thought she heard a pause in his breathing, but she could have been mistaken. His heart still thumped with a steady rhythm under her ear, and he still lay next to her, deeply relaxed. If only to prove that she was a separate being than he, with different thoughts and words, she allowed herself to continue.

"I gave a name to this flame.. You are my 'black love'."

She opened her eyes but otherwise remained still. Her own breathing slowly diverged from his, and with every breath, some of her thoughts began to untangle from his web.

"You tempt me. And fill me so deep like the sea. You bring me down to my knees."

She lifted her head to look at his face in the moonlight. Still shrouded in darkness, she couldn't tell if his heavy gaze was on her or not; in his presence, she always felt as though she were pinned under an unforgiving weight.

"I'm ripped in two; torn at the seams cuz of you."

She paused.

"Your heart can never be true…"

And that was part of the drug. His heart was inhuman and his desires unfathomable. His love would corrupt and destroy, rebuilding her in his own image, and she feared losing herself completely to its blackness. She knew it was already too late – and it thrilled her.

She swallowed when she felt a feather soft touch caress her jaw. When his fingertips reached the corner of her mouth, he pushed her lips open and greedily touched the wetness within - as though by touching her tongue, he could feel her words before she could speak them.

She sucked on his fingers until he withdrew them. Her body ached at the removal of his touch, but she sighed in relief when he greedily buried his hand in her hair. She leaned into him and felt her body hum. If she were a tuning fork, his every caress was a strike against her. He forced her to reverberate an impossible tone only he could ever compel her to make.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

"I'm a fool to want you the way that I do. Though I will never have you.."

Not the way he has her… Her breath catches in her throat.

"What must I do - to kill my desire for you?"

He is swallowing her. There will be nothing left of her, except for what is him within her.

"Or will I always be lost here in my black love?"

Spent, she buries her head in his side and clenches her jaw. Her whole body is on pause, as though by sheer will, she can force it to stop existing. As he rises to sit, he pulls her up. Taking her jaw in his hand, he forces her to look at him. It is now that she can see the light reflect from eyes still lost in shadow. When his hand moves to encircle her throat, he squeezes until her focus narrows to exclude everything but breathing. It is a reminder that she exists because he wishes it it. She knows it is a show of power over her, and as intended, she responds with a hot wave of desire. Her body always bends to his will.

He pulls her face towards his own, and her body follows. Straddling him, she must concentrate on his words, else be lost to her lust. Something more he has intended.

"The only basis of comparison I have to this word, 'love' comes from you and that human before me. You both betrayed the sentiment when you consented to abandoned one another. It is an empty, meaningless word if it can be so ill-used and then easily forgotten. I will not exhaust myself living up to an expectation of yours that is worthless and offensive. I will never 'love' you, nor will I suffer to be 'loved' by you."

Growling, he squeezed her throat until she could not take in air at all. Pulling her closer, so that her lips barely touched his, he lowered his voice. Her head spun and the blood rushed in her ears. She wasn't sure if the cause was due to how close he was or from her brain starving for breath. It didn't matter. His words were felt even if she didn't hear them.

"You are mine. I am yours. That is everything."

Grabbing her hips with one hand without breaking hold of her throat with the other, he forced her to bear down while he rose up to penetrate her.

Forehead to forehead, she wasn't certain if his gaze - full of fire and fury - was the side of the coin that was pleasure or pain.