Page 16 of My Carmilla

A yearning, sharp and sweet, echoed in my chest. “I would,” I said softly. “Stay with you forever if I could.”

“Then, let us make the most of our stolen moments," she whispered.

Her hand slipped down my back, tracing the curve of my spine with a touch that sent shivers cascading across my flesh. My fingers traced the smooth column of her throat, the cool onyx amulet nestled against her skin, a contrast to the heat building between our skin.

Moonlight traced patterns across the discarded silks and linens on the grass. Crumpled muslin gowns, their buttons gleaming like fallen stars. Our bodies pressed together in a tangle of limbs, and our perfumes intermingled in the air. Wild roses and night-blooming jasmine. How sweetly they blended together.

It was my first time lying with another, and I fumbled in my fervor. My touches felt like misplaced commas, the tentative caresses like poorly translated sentences, failing to capture the depth of my desire but when Carmilla’s lips parted, her sighs sounded like poetry.

Her body was a language I longed to be fluent in. She, on the other hand, seemed well-versed with mine. With unerring instinct, she knew exactly where I divined her touch next. Her tongue dipped into the crook of my collarbone, lapping at the sensitive skin.

"Please…don't stop.” My voice was thick with desire, the traitorous yearning within me warring with the rational part of my mind.

My body surrendered under her tutelage. I arched my back, a silent plea met with her eager tongue tracing a path down my breasts, my navel. She moved lower and lower, leaving a trail of blazing kisses in her wake. My breath hitched as I dissolved atop her tongue.

She rose from my legs and sat up, licking her glistening lips. “Come here, darling.”

I surrendered to her mouth, and she fed me the taste of myself. Somehow it seemed sweeter coming from her mouth.

Our legs entwined, a slow building rhythm of thrusting thighs, slick with wetness. Her fingers dug into my back, grounding me, anchoring me to this moment. Through ragged breaths, I called out her name like litany.

“Carmilla, Carmilla, my Carmilla.”

Her name in my mouth sounded like scripture.

"Yes, darling. Hold onto me. Come for me.”

A coiled spring in the pit of my stomach tightened with every breath. The tension crested, reaching an unbearable peak. We spilled into each other, and a cry escaped my lips; my eyes were wet.

The tremors of release subsided, carving the path for a confession that burned in my throat. Words that would ignite the air if spoken aloud. Words too precious to remain unsaid.

I lay upon Carmilla’s breast, and my raw whisper grazed her lips.

"I love you, too."

Chapter 7:

The ghosts of last night's kisses lingered on my lips. The memory of her touch ignited a fire in my veins, a delicious reminder of the night we had shared. Even now, the taste of her remained on my tongue, the tang of a sea-breeze and sweet musk. Our roots were so entwined in each other, our shared vices, vines that bound us.

I leaned against the window seat. A strange languor wormed its way through my limbs. My head felt like a cotton ball, pleasantly light, but a disquieting haze clung to the edges of my vision. My gaze drifted across the distant village. Those girls who had fallen ill… hadn't they complained of lethargy?

A cold dread snaked through me. I tried to silence it, that insistent voice in the back of my head that whispered, What if whatever plagued them had brushed against me too?

The bedroom door creaked open, and Carmilla slipped in, her silhouette framed by the light streaming from the hallway. "Laura, my dearest, you look pale.”

I turned and feebly smiled. "Just a touch of weariness. Perhaps the long walks we've been taking have caught up with me."

Carmilla's touch was cool and gentle as she brushed a strand of hair from my forehead. “Perhaps a glass of something restorative is just what you need. Let me fetch you some wine."

Carmilla returned with two crystal goblets filled with ruby-red liquid.

I roused myself as Carmilla glided across the room, her nightgown whispering against the floorboards. Her dark hair shone like a raven's wing; her cheeks had a healthy flush that resembled rouge. She looked like the picture of health, the entirely opposite of what I was feeling.

Carmilla raised her glass. "Shall we drink to us?”

“To us.” I clinked my glass against hers and lifted it to my lips, inhaling the scent of wild berries. A burst of sweetness warmed my insides, and a pleasant drowsiness seeped into my bones. "Carmilla, this fatigue…you don’t think it’s—”

"Hush, my love. Don’t think such thoughts." Carmilla set the empty goblet on the window ledge, her touch lingering possessively on my hand. “You are mine, flesh and blood. I swear upon the moon to never let anyone or anything take you away from me.”

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