the garden | michael langdon

chapter two; pomegranate.

Strong, commanding hands roaming her lithe form, teasingly exploring every area of her body bar one. Fingers lightly trailing her sensitive skin, the contact is brief and feather-like. She can't help but whine out of longing. The little touches aren't enough, and he knows this. He wants her so worked up, so frustrated, that she has no other choice but to beg him to give her what she desperately needs. He needs her to fall from grace, to become a victim of temptation, a slave to her own desires.

"Stop teasing me." She implores him.

"You've been teasing me for so long, it's only fair that I should get to tease you." He explains.

"Fuck, please." She cries.

"Such strong language from such a gentle girl." He laughed. It was rare for such words to fall from her graceful lips, to hear it was highly amusing for him.

She feels so needy she could cry. "I'll do anything, please." She begs him.

"Anything? Well, since you have asked so nicely..."

Primrose awoke with a start; someone was tapping at her bedroom door. Her thighs burned and her face reddened as she recalled her dream from last night. She had dreamt of Michael, teasing her incessantly. His nimble fingers and smug voice stirred deep feelings within her. The dream had been both delicious and torturous; she had not been satisfied then and she was not satisfied now. She sighed, only half-awake as she approached the door in a post-sleep haze.

She opened the door to find a grey standing on the other side, a slip of paper in hand.

"Sorry to bother you, Miss Goode, but I was told to give you this, on the orders of Mr. Langdon." She handed the letter to Prim, dutifully.

"Thank you." Prim replied, politely.

"Also, I was told by Ms. Venable to inform you that tonight's dinner will be a festive Halloween ball, with a costume dress code."

Prim's interest had been piqued at the idea of the Halloween dinner. The situation was dire, humanity was on the brink of failure, the food supply was running dangerously low, why hold a party?

The grey bowed and quickly scurried away back to work, Primrose closed the door behind her.

She then turned her attention to the letter in her hand. She noticed that the letter had been folded in half and sealed with wax. She broke the seal and carefully studied the sophisticated script;

"Primrose,

I am writing to inform you that you will be (regretfully, I am sure) unable to attend the Halloween party this evening as your presence is required in my private quarters.

I promise no tricks, only treats.

Michael."

Holding the letter to her chest, her mind still stuck on her dream from earlier, her thoughts began to run wild with all the possible directions the evening could go in. The tension between them was electric and undeniable, but she couldn't deny the guilt she felt either. She had promised her mother she would not go there with Michael, but her resolve always melted so quickly within his presence. Worst of all, she knew Michael would have to know what had happened to her mother and the coven, after all it wasn't that long ago that he was vying to become their leader, and she had not used her earliest opportunity to ask him about it; she was much too concerned with her carnal urges. She looked over at the bed where her body had lain aching for him; any desire she had felt this morning had been replaced with feelings of concern for her mother and the coven. She had decided; tonight she would try her damned hardest to resist her urges and ask Michael what she needed to know.