by AMARANTHA KNIGHT
Masquerade
Books
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An excerpt from Chapter Nine
I entered the room and swear my pounding heart leaped into my throat. Carmilla's naked beauty immobilized me, as if I were bound tightly, but in the softest of silk threads. I wanted to wrap myself in her long black hair that hung to her thighs, press my lips along her plump rosy ones, stare into her brilliant violet eyes until the worms ate through my bones. I longed to let my hand round the curves of her subtle body, to investigate the mounds and crevices, the dark, moist cave... Speechless, I could only stare at her. Our visitor lay in one of the oldest rooms in the schloss. It was, perhaps, overly stately. A swatch of sombre tapestry hung opposite the foot of the bed, representing Cleopatra, green asps clutched to her naked bosom. Other classic scenes were displayed upon the other walls, in fabric and oils, most a bit faded. The ivory carvings, gold inlays and the rich tropical woods decorating the room perhaps redeemed the gloominess, and kept alive the memory of what could now be rightly termed faded decadence. Carmilla sat in the four-poster, her pale slender figure framed by the white satin bedding. She fluffed a pillow, the case embroidered with Lily of the Valley just a shade whiter than her flesh, and bent forward to pull the quilted spread over her tiny, pale feet. This movement caused her large breasts to fall forward; the pink nipples touched her knees, which I found arousing. Still without noticing me, she twisted around towards the nightstand and picked up the lighted candle. Then she twisted the other direction and lighted the taper on the other nightstand, her movements slow and guileless. In the process of doing this, a drop of beeswax fell onto her left breast, close to her heart. I gave a little jump, and her breasts jiggled. Suddenly, I was struck dumb! Involuntarily, I recoiled, taking a step back towards the door. There, before me, was the very face which had haunted me in my chamber, which remained fixed in my memory and on which I had for so long ruminated. At that same moment, Carmilla noticed me. A smile spread across her perfect features, a smile of recognition. "You are the girl from my dream," Carmilla said. "You are the girl from my dream," I cried out. "I could not forget your face. It has remained before my eyes ever since. "I must tell you my vision about you. It is so very strange that you and I should have had, each of the other, so vivid a dream that each should have seen, I of you, and you of me." Carmilla sighed as she pondered that. Then she recited her dream. "I wake from a confused and troubled dream to find myself in a room unlike my own. The bed is, I think, empty and the room itself without any but me in it. After looking around for some time, and admiring especially an iron candlestick with two branches, which I should certainly know again, I creep the large canoped bed to reach the window. But as I climb out from under the bed, I hear someone crying, and look up. Still upon my knees, I see you--most assuredly you!--as I see you now. A beautiful young lady with golden hair and large blue eyes and sensuous lips--your lips --you, as you are here. Your looks win me. I climb onto the bed and wrap my arms about you. Your body is soft, and I find my fingers pressing into your hot flesh and my lips pressing against your firm nipples. Soon I am tasting those nipples, sucking and nipping at your buds, and the most exquisite moans come from your lips... And then..., "I cannot recall more." She laughed. "I think we both fell asleep. Oh yes! Now I remember the end! I am aroused by a scream. You are sitting up screaming. I am frightened and slip down upon the floor and it seem to me, lose consciousness for a moment and when I come to myself, I am again at home. My body is on fire with longing, especially here," and she slipped her hand down to the furry midnight mound between her legs. "Your face I have never forgotten; I could not be misled by mere resemblance. You are the lady whom I dreamt." It was now my turn to relate my corresponding vision, which I did, to the undisguised wonder of my new acquaintance. "I do not know which should be most afraid of the other," she said, her plump red lips curving into a flirtatious smile. "If you were less pretty, I think I should be very much afraid of you, but being as you are lovely, and you and I both so young, I feel only that I have already made your acquaintance and have a right to intimacy. In any event, it does seem as if we were destined to be here, together. I wonder whether you feel as strangely and as strongly drawn towards me as I do towards you. I have never had such a female friend. Shall I find one now?" She sighed, her violet eyes blazing with passion. "I am Laura," I managed to say. "This is my home." "Laura. The Laura everyone would appear to adore." "The only Laura for many miles," I giggled. I know my face was flushed, but there was nothing I could do to make the color subside. "Come closer, Laura. I fear I am weak and cannot bear to lift my head to gaze into your pale blue eyes." Carmilla held out a slender hand and I clasped it to my bosom. Her fingers dug into the fabric of my bib. They were so cold, instinctively I pulled back. But the tormented look on her face made me realize what I had done, that I had wounded her. Quickly, I pressed her hand tighter to me, and her fingertips soon found my nipple. She rubbed it through the fabric, around the areola, scratching a bit, then on the tip of the nipple itself, gently scratching there as well. The sensations rippled sweetly through my body. Soon she began rubbing and scratching harder, then pulling the flesh out, away from my body, and I could do nothing but moan, just as in the dream. My head fell back as I passively accepted this pleasant torture, which seemed to go on and on into eternity. I rode the waves of pleasure as if my body were a small craft on the ocean. To my shock, she pinched my nipple hard. I cried out from the burning pain. A wave of sensation crashed through my body, causing my flesh and something deep inside me to pulsate in a manner I had never previously felt. An entirely new sensation washed over me and I could do nothing but pant like an animal. My eyelids fluttered, and in the encroaching dawn, her beautiful, pale face looked to me so commanding, so self-possessed. Her lips turned upwards and for a second I thought I saw a little sharp point at one side. Suddenly, she snapped her head towards the window as if a monster lurked there. We both watched a vibrant finger of dawn poke through a corner of the curtain. As she turned back, her hand fell limply to her lap. She looked exhausted. And oddly frightened. "I will sleep now," she said, in a commanding yet tired manner. "Please shut the curtains, tightly before you leave," she ordered, and dismissing me as if I were nothing but her servant. ... |
Titles in The Darker Passions series:
DRACULA
FRANKENSTEIN
DR. JEKYLL & MR.HYDE
THE
FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER
THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY
CARMILLA
THE PIT
AND THE PENDULUM
