My Muses Visit

They’re suddenly there, vivid and powerful.  His hands, strong and firm, rest on my shoulders, halting my fingers.  My chair is pulled back from my desk, legs scraping on the floor, startlingly loud.  “Come with us,” she instructs, reaching for my hands, urging me from my seat, pulling me in her wake. 

“But I can’t-”  I can’t help but resist, they overwhelm my senses so.  Her eyes silence me from over a bare shoulder and his body impacts mine gently.  Powerful arms reach round me, his hand dwarfing ours, pulling her back to us.

“Yes, you can,” he murmurs, the rumble of his voice thrilling through me.  She flows into his arms and against me.  My breath flees my lungs in a sigh of awareness, balanced on the apex between their powerful presences.

“You need us,” she whispers into the breath of space between our lips.  “Do not deny it,” she warns, and a shiver ripples through me, the combined heat of their bodies combating the chill of the bitter fall morning. 

I breathe her essence as she teases her lips ever so close to mine, aching to taste her kiss, even as he holds me firmly, my body molded to his.  “Please,” I whisper hoarsely, drawing a low laugh from both of them. 

“Surrender,” he whispers.  “Surrender to us, my love.”  She wraps her hands around my wrists, pressing my hands down and away from her, offering her lips up to his kiss.  He buries a hand in her sun-kissed locks and she melts against me as he devours her lips. 

Trapped in exquisite torture between them, my skin is tight and aching for more contact.  “I need to focus,” I plead, my laptop, project waiting for completion, lingering just out of reach.

“We’ll help,” she whispers, her skin so close, yet infinitely far away.

And suddenly they’re gone.  I sway without their support, reeling with the intensity of their visit, and I sink into my chair.  My racing heartbeat thuds loudly against my ribcage for a long span, and finally, my eyes focus on the waiting screen.

I reach out, the ghost of her fingers against mine, the lingering warmth of his body behind me, and start to type.

 

© Scarlett Greyson

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