'No,' she shushed him, placing a soft finger to his lips. 'I know things you do not. Now finish your sandwich, Sam, and then teach me how to pray.' Sam finished the hefty sandwich and drank another cup of coffee. 'I feel so guilty, Roma, sitting here eating while … she is …' He could not bring himself to say the word: dead.
'Don't be,' she slipped a bit closer to him. 'Do you think Nydia would want that?'
'No, I suppose not. You're right, of course. She would be happy for you. Is Satan still here?'
^'He is everywhere.'
'That's not what I meant.'
'1 know. Yes, I can feel his presence. He is furious, but unable to do anything about his anger—at this time. You see, Sam, by merely talking with you about … our decision to reject Satan and accept your God … well, that puts the Dark One in a very bad position. Now he can't make any moves against you; all his earthly allies—that is, we at Falcon House—have switched sides, and the Prince is fearful of your God's powers should he break any more rules.'
'It's all very confusing, Roma. But I'm happy for you, if you're sincere, and I believe you are.' Sam waited for the mysterious voice to hammer at his brain, but his head remained free of any silent vocal intrusion.
'I don't resent your doubts, Sam,' she said, moving a bit closer to him. He was suddenly very much aware of the woman heat of her. 'Of course you have suspicions, why shouldn't you?'
The perfume she wore was a scent Sam had never smelled before: very pleasant, not too heady, not too light. And as it assailed his nostrils, the essence seemed to relax the young man, wrapping him in fragrant invisible arms.
'You're very tired, Sam,' he heard her say. He nodded his head in agreement as fatigue hit him hard. 'Why don't you sleep for a while? The rest will do you good.'
Sam struggled to remember why he was here, but his mind drew a blank. He could but vaguely remember soft music and the scent of lighted candles and incense. Everything was blocked out of his mind. What does it matter? he thought, as arms of incredible sweetness and softness slipped around him, cradling him gently.
'Here, Sam,' Roma whispered, amid the rustling of clothing, the soft snick of a clasp opening. 'Rest your head here.' She pulled his head to her breasts.
Somehow, Sam thought, I knew they would be bare and beautiful. He opened his eyes, no more than a slit, found the breasts to be more than beautiful: the nipples were stiff and erect, set amid half dollar sized rose-colored circles. And it seemed only natural his lips would find the papilla, encircling it. Her hands were at the back of his head, gently holding his mouth to her breast, silently encouraging the young man to suckle her as a child.
Sam felt feverish. Not the unnatural heat of sickness, but that his clothing was an encumbrance he did not need.
Here,' she said, 'let me help you.' Her fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt, and Sam quickly felt coolness of air on his bare arms. Pillowing his head against her breasts, he could not think of one single reason why he should object as she worked at his belt buckle, loosening the snap at his waistband. The snick of the zipper followed, and he moved his legs, assisting her in the lowering of his jeans.
She held him close to her for several moments, one hand resting on his flat belly, where his T-shirt had pulled up, exposing just a few inches of bare skin.
He heard her say: 'It will be wonderful, Sam. You and I, together.'
'Yes,' he replied, in a voice that seemed strange to him, alien, not from his larynx. He added, 'At last.' Although he did not know why he said that.
She moved slightly, and her skirt was gone. She was naked. Sam started to protest that this was wrong, but that strange perfume stifled any objection forming within him.
Why is it wrong? he asked himself.
'It isn't wrong,' she said.
'Yes,' he said. 'It isn't.'
Sam was conscious of cool air on his groin, but he felt it wasn't worth the effort to open his eyes and look. Then he realized his underwear shorts had been removed and that seemed all right, as well. Everything seemed all right. Natural. Perfect. A man and a woman together. He moved his head to the satiny smoothness of her naked belly and kissed the indentation of navel, aware of the woman scent of her.
She moved her hand, fingers encircling his growing thickness, stroking him into surging hardness, bringing, him, through the manipulation of her skillful touch, almost to the point of ejaculation.
Then, with one swift movement, she mounted him, laughing as she did so.
Everything returned to Sam … coming in such a rush it almost overwhelmed him with its magnitude: his father's warnings, the warnings of the mysterious voice. Nydia! her memory leaped into his brain. Where he was; what had happened; what was happening. He recalled the vision he had shared with Nydia: the scene of his father fighting with the witch … this woman who now had impaled herself on his maleness, driving her way frantically toward completion.
He began fighting the witch, attempting to dislodge her from his erection, but her strength was incredible. Despite his feelings of revulsion and self-disgust, knowing he had been tricked like a schoolboy, Sam was very close to exploding his semen into her wetness.
She held his hands to her waist with no more effort than if she were pinning a helpless baby to its crib. And despite himself, Sam felt his juices boiling. They began to spill over, then exploded. Using her inner muscles, Roma milked the last drop of precious semen from him, pulled away from him, and padded naked to a table. There, she picked up a vial of dark red fluid, opened the small bottle, and drained it into her mouth.
Sam was too weak to move as she began speaking in a language he did not understand, the incantation evil as it rolled from her tongue. Lightning licked around the mansion, as thunder ripped the countryside, the smell of burning sulfur strong in the stormy air.
Laughter reached Sam's ears, spilling from the other room. Hot, wild rage filled him, causing his blood to run strong, giving him the strength to claw on his clothing and stagger from the room where he had been seduced into
