Like a Sacred Desire: Tales of Sex Magick
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by Jennifer Williams
Category: Erotica/BDSM Erotica/Fantasy
Description: [Warning: Explicit sex.] A ravaged warrior in search of peace and understanding. A Tarot deck that is more than what it seems. Love born of vengeance in the midst of war. Like a Sacred Desire: Tales of Sex Magick is Circlet Press's latest anthology of erotica, exploring sex not only as a pleasurable act but as an instrument of ritual, something sacred and profound. Featuring seven stories from contributors such as D. L. King, Angela Caperton, and Raven Kaldera. Sex becomes a gateway to healing, achieving higher consciousness, and unlocking the mysteries. Editor Jennifer Williams invites readers on a journey both sensual and spiritual, erotic and divine. Like a Sacred Desire promises to challenge and stimulate readers' senses, hearts, and souls. Stories included: Unquiet Ghosts by Jana Denardo, The Hand You're Dealt by Elizabeth Schechter, The Birthright by Renatto Garcia, Perhaps a Worthy Offering by D. L. King, Wood by David Sklar, St. Nicholas' Eve by Angela Caperton, Opening by Raven Kaldera
eBook Publisher: Circlet Press, 2010 2010
eBookwise Release Date: August 2010
2 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [170 KB]
Reading time: 111-156 min.
Dark Diva Reviews, praising Like a Sacred Desire thus: "I could easily see this collection being used in a discussion group on mythology and sexology. Joseph Campbell would have had much to say about the characters and situations found here."
The Hand You're Dealt
The house shook as the front door was shoved closed, and I heard Nick's footsteps overhead, moving towards the stairs. The circle had gone well, and with the last of the coven gone, I knew that Nick was going to be in a mood. Circle high, he called it. I called it frisky, when I was being polite. When I wasn't, I told him that he was a slut.
Not that I minded much. I could be a slut, too, and Nick's moods suited me just fine. But before playtime came work; I had told Nick that I'd clean up my toys. I picked up the drum I'd used to accompany the ritual and made my way over to the wall and the cabinet that Nick had set up for storage of odd-sized ritual items. It smelled of cedar and incense as I opened it, finding the shelf by touch and sliding the flat Irish drum into its place. Behind me, I heard footsteps on the stairs, and then Nick was behind me, sliding his arms around my waist and pressing a kiss onto my shoulder.
"Everyone gone?" I asked, and felt him nod, the stubble of his late-evening beard scratching on the side of my neck.
"All gone. Just you and me now," he nuzzled my neck. "Want to play, Styopa?"
I grinned. He knew what my answer would be, and he knew I loved the Russian diminutive of my name that he'd tagged me with back before we'd become lovers. After all, it was a hell of a lot more sophisticated than Stevie. "I'll always play with you, Kolya. What are you up to?"
"Something ... random," he laughed, backing away. "Get yourself ready, Steven. I'll take care of the dog and get a few things, and meet you in the playroom."
The playroom. Oh, that kind of play. My heart sped up, and I nodded without saying a word, hearing him going back up the stairs. Nicolai was the love of my life, my sanity, the single good thing that had happened to me after the accident that had taken my sight, put metal rods in my back and leg, and ended my career as a dancer. He was also one hell of a dom, and if he wanted me on my knees, I'd be there immediately.
But he didn't want immediate. He wanted me ready, and I knew what that meant. I also knew that it meant I'd better hurry. It didn't take that long to feed the dog and lock up, and if I wasn't in position when Nick got to the playroom, he'd keep right on going and head to bed.
Only one thing worried me, and that was his choice of words. Random? What was he talking about? Random and BDSM didn't usually go together, and especially not where Nick was concerned. Every scene we'd ever done had been precise, structured and intense. Random wasn't a word I'd ever heard Nick use.
But I wasn't going to find out what he meant just standing here. And if I didn't move it, I wouldn't find out what he meant at all.
* * * *
The playroom door squeaked slightly, something that Nick was always meaning to fix and never getting around to. So I knew when he came in, and I knew what he'd see. Me, kneeling in the middle of the room, facing the door (I hoped--he still teased me about the time I'd knelt off center and had been facing the closet when he came in). I was naked, and I'd assumed the position he'd taught me--knees apart, back straight, with my hands resting easy on my thighs. I'd been hard before I'd even gotten my pants off, and the breeze caused by the opening of the door washed over my skin, raising goosebumps and making me shiver.
"Very nice," Nick murmured, and I could hear the barest hint of the accent that he could never manage to lose, stronger now than it usually was. He really was in a mood. I heard his soft footfalls, almost-but-not-quite muffled by the thick carpet as he walked around me, trailing his fingers over my shoulders and brushing my hair out of the way.
"Very nice," he repeated. He linked one finger through the heavy silver chain I always wore and tugged on it. I closed my eyes and took a sharp breath; he laughed and let me go.
"All right. Hold your hands out." I did, and he dropped a pile of something slippery into my waiting palms. I grabbed them before I dropped them, feeling slick, narrow cards.
"What's this?" I asked.
"That's a tarot deck. I want you to think about what you want tonight while you shuffle the cards," Nick said as he moved around. I heard cabinets opening, and knew that he was getting the toys ready. "Once you shuffle the cards, I'll lay them out. Whatever the cards say is what I will be doing to you tonight."
I almost dropped the cards. "Nick, I don't know about this..."
"Do you trust me?" he asked.
I nodded, "You know I do."
"What's your safe-word?"
"Nick, you don't think I'm going to need...."
"Safe-word?" he repeated, his voice a little harsher, a little more stern, the accent even more pronounced, the tone edging towards strict formality. His dom voice. I ducked my head in response.
"Oatmeal," I said quietly. I heard Nick move, and then he was kneeling in front of me, tugging on my chain again, pulling me towards him and claiming my mouth in a hard, possessive kiss that left me gasping and wanting more.
"I made a promise, Styopa," he whispered into my ear, sliding his hands up my arms. "I promised you that I would never hurt you. If you do not like what the cards say, we will stop. We will play another way. Or not play at all. Do you understand?" I nodded, not sure I could speak at the moment, still trying to find my breath. He kissed me again, more gently, then stood up, "Good. Shuffle the cards."
So I shuffled, trying to focus on all of the wonderful, horrible things that Nick did to me in this room. The sounds of the room became a soothing drone as I concentrated--Nick's breathing, the hum of the fan blowing, the hiss of the rain outside, all of them harmonizing around the bass line that was my own rapid heartbeat. Finally, I held the cards up, "I'm done."