Jess backed away from her and put a foot onto the floor. His eyes trailed along the length of her delicate body, to all the graceful curves that he knew and loved and desired.

He slid his hand underneath her at her waist, then down beneath her buttock. With that one hand, he kneaded and lifted and felt the cool, silky smoothness of her flesh. And all of this he did gently, to give his captive a sense of how much she was revered. To calm her. To quieten her.

She was revered indeed. In the unflustered light of real life, it was her sharp mind and quirky spirit and good heart that he revered. For the moment, however, he pretended that it was simply her body—or rather, more specifically, what her body could do for him—that he appreciated. Today, in this activity alone, he hoped his reverence came across as sick and twisted—to revere someone whilst holding her captive. As though she should be happy and proud to make the ultimate sacrifice. The sacrificial lamb was sacred, and necessary for a good harvest.

She was trembling. In anticipation, he knew, though she feigned fright.

She protested meekly. He raised an eyebrow at her but he saw only desire.

"Do you have something to say to me?" he challenged abstractly, just to be sure. She played the game well also. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, as though willing to submit as long as he didn't hurt her. She played the game too well sometimes.

But she wanted him. He knew that she did. And he knew this without delusion. Jess smirked.

So he ran his palm over her, in long ovals, stroking her soft skin lightly, to calm her. He took his time. Her skin was pale, save some freckles on her arms and legs. He supposed that, given enough sunlight, her stomach would have been freckled as well. But, as of now, the skin on her beautiful stomach had a soft, light sheen of untouched, virginal splendour.

He leaned forward to drop some kisses onto her stomach and ribcage. With his fingertips, he drew some marks upon that velvety skin, with enough vigour to know where his fingers had been, to know he had touched her and to make it real, but not enough to last beyond their encounter. With a final soulful kiss upon her breast, his hand came to rest on the roundness of her buttock. He stood.

She was stretched out before him. She had a beauty that he felt like an ache and that left him light-headed. Her soft, creamy skin with the light scratches he'd left… her delicate, luscious pink…

Sacred, and instrumental to a good harvest.

His gaze trailed from the soft oval of her elongated stomach, along to the gentle rise of her breast and perky nipple and finally the elegant lines of her neck. The lone curl of hair still swirled into the divot above her collarbone, although the lock he'd placed along the pillow had long since fallen down around her shoulder.

From her shoulder, his gaze traveled up the bend of her arm—and caught the look in her eyes.

It was a sight to behold, that doe-eyed expression, of which she was a master. Jess's breath quickened once again, until he was gasping at the sight of her. She could do this to him like no other.

The aching…

His jaw grew lax as he nearly panted. As did she.

Abruptly and with great force of desire, he pulled her bottom towards the side edge of the bed. She slid easily, no match for the element of surprise. And as she murmured and writhed a beautiful snake-like slither in response, he grabbed for her ankle.

Jess wasn't exactly a religious man, but today…

He was going to immerse himself in all things sacred.

And he did.

If there was one adjective that you'd use to describe this story, what would it be? Seriously, I'd love to know! I really have no idea how people are taking this story and that makes me unsure how to continue.

Please review, even if your review consists of just one single adjective. A single word is better than none at all! Anonymous reviews are appreciated too!