Sometimes my eyes fell away from the book and the symbols, and my mind trailed down, down to where she lay.
Blood sister, immaculate in her tattoos and freckles, laying on the ground skyclad, one knee bend and one bare sole on the cold earth.
We came to the woods to call down the moon. The others danced and chanted, around and around the circle we kept, like satellites.
My heart wasn’t in it. I couldn’t keep the words of the spell on my tongue. All I could see was the pretty girl on the ground, her legs slightly spread, the dark hair between her legs beckoning me.
She looked up at me suddenly.
“I felt something!” She said.
“Me too,” I lied in a whisper.
“Did it work? Is she inside of you?” She asked.
I closed my eyes, let myself go, raised my head, and then nodded slowly.
They all chanted louder, their dance maddeningly faster around us.
I opened my eyes and looked down at her and thought, perhaps, the goddess was in me, maybe that was how it was, perhaps the hunger that was overcoming me was her hunger.
I knelt down on the wet dirt and put down the book.
She laid flat, arms and legs spread to the points on the circle around her. My hand hovered over her body, and she seemed to raise up her hips for me. I didn’t touch her, I only slipped my hand over the heat of her, I could smell her, the want made my blood ache.
My fingers danced in the air as her hips rose up again off the ground, higher, higher, as if pulled towards the dark sky, until the very tips of my fingers touched her, just above her pubis. She sucked in air at the moment of contact, and so did I.
“My goddess, I am here to be in service to you,” she said, looking up at me with wide and hopeful eyes.
I shifted and knelt between her open legs. I felt my eyes narrow as I looked down at her.
“Would you serve me?” I ask, my voice not feeling like my own.
“Yes, please, however I can!”
And still, the whirling bodies around us, the dance and the chant and the wind growing and whipping around us.
“That I would raise you up like a chalice to my lips,” I started, unsure of the words.
“That I would consume you,” the words came to me.
I leaned forward and slipped my hands under her bottom, holding her ass in my hands and marveling at her softness and her strength.
She lifted her hips once more, and I held her up as I bent low and dipped my tongue down, down to salt and heaven between her legs.
The sound she made rang out like a bell in the night, over the chanting, over the heartbeat thundering in my ears, over the wild wind, and it struck me like a dagger in the heart.
My tongue grew silken as I tasted her, thick and wet with her, as I feasted and she writhed.
Was I the goddess? In that moment? Was she the goddess? I was the one kneeling, worshiping.
Her hands came up and slipped into the curls of my hair, pulling, pushing, showing me how she needed me to touch her. My fingers moved to her, slipping into her, two fingers sliding into heat that made me groan and whine as I served her, was serviced by her.
I swear, to this day, I don’t know if the spell worked. I do know that thunder shook the sky when she came.