SIX

The vial contained vanilla, a lightly scented oil which Rory painted upon her wrist. She moved slowly, rubbing both wrists together, drawing out the ministration for a while. Then, as a reward for fulfilling his first test, she offered her wrist to him.

Jess inhaled deeply, leaning forward with closed eyes, relying on scent alone to follow her movement. His lips parted as he delved into her scent, and she bore witness to a subtle smile before those lips found her tender flesh.

He nipped along her forearm, slow and steady, trailing sumptuous kisses towards her elbow, which she watched, transfixed. Soulful, she thought. His kisses were soulful, as she'd dreamed they would be, and as reverent as the scene demanded. But at Jess's personification of complete desire, she got the distinct impression the demands of the scene had nothing to do with it.

His lips poised to make the leap from her elbow to her waist. At that point, Rory swallowed hard. Fixing a smug expression over her crumbling facade and a dominant posture to bolster struggling knees, she stepped away from him.

"Bukowski," she hinted, pressing his shoulder upright into the back of the chair.

Jess smiled, a heavy-lidded twinkle of desire that she felt to the core of her body. She leaned forward, her lips just an inch from his own. His mouth readied and his eyelids grew heavier still.

Instead, Rory tilted her head to the right and brought her mouth close to his throat to enjoy her own aromatic adventure. She inhaled deeply. The basenotes of yesterday's cologne still lingered, the way she preferred it, and it mingled with a yummy natural musk.

She drew a long deep breath in through her nose and let her exhalation heat his throat. Another ecstatic breath in through her nose. Another shaky, stuttering breath out from her mouth. She followed that ambrosial musk along the heat of his skin, down his neck to his chest, as Jess began to haltingly speak.

"When He created you lying in bed," Jess murmured then took a deep shaky breath of his own. "He knew what He was doing..."

An excellent passage, she thought. She could work with that.

"He was drunk and He was high... and He created the mountains and the ocean and fire—"

She tisked, feigning a disappointment she didn't really feel and continuing her sensual journey, objectifying him with her olfactories. The truth was he'd really impressed her. It was a rare person who could quote the breadth of literature that Jess was in possession of. And, oh, he did smell heavenly.

"...at the same time," Jess continued warily, unsure why he'd earned the tisk. But when she knelt beside his chair, succumbing to her own eager knees, placing herself between his own, she saw wariness became enthrallment.

"...But when He created you lying in bed..." Hearing the doubt in his voice, she grinned evilly. "...He—" She licked him quickly and evoked a stutter. "...C-came all over His Blessed Universe."

Oh my God, he's gorgeous, her heart cried. Jess's eyes were squeezed shut and his neck drooped weakly back. His respiration was ragged but he steadied himself slowly.

She took a long moment to watch him. Then she stood, game once again On. "Oh, Possession. I'm disappointed. That's no way to please me." She sauntered past him to the bookcase where she made a big show of reaching for a book. Like him, she was an expert at navigating their shelving scheme and she found the book right away. She flipped the pages with equally expert navigation. By the time she'd returned, she'd easily found the passage she'd sought.

With a flourish of her robe, she settled onto his lap and crossed her legs perpendicular to his thighs. Placing a forearm on his shoulder and leaning forward, she felt his hot breath and his undivided attention.

He tilted towards her ever so slightly until she held the book in front of him. "What does it say?"

He read aloud. When he got to the part he'd forgotten, he recognized it right away. He recited that part loudly, clearly.

He'd simply substituted the word ocean for sea, hardly an issue in the real world. But, in this world of adventure they'd created, she must treat it as a great offence, as though Jess's one purpose in life was to study these words and recite them for her pleasure. As though his slip up would reduce him in her favour.

"Now. That's not something you should have forgotten is it?"

"No, Ma'am," he whispered, clearly still affected by the nearness of her breasts, her weight on his lap. Perhaps also a bit affected by his error.

"You displease me, Possession. You'll have to make it up to me." With the hand which held the book, she snapped it closed. Removing herself from him, she strode to the opposite end of the dining room table. Leaning against its solid wood construction, she pushed the table three feet closer, right up beside him.

Returning to his side, she tucked herself into the narrow space between his chair and the table. Pushing the robe out at her side, she perched upon the edge of the oak. And, after a moment of pregnant pause, she lifted up and drew her knee to the side, placing a high-heeled foot upon his far thigh.

"Make it up to me."

AN: It occurs to me that I'm being more explicit in this part of the story than in the first part. I hope that doesn't take away from the magic. Please let me know what you think.