Red: Our Hearts Alive

Prolog: The Candle and the Fires of Desire

Love is naked, pure, ones true self without the guise that society has taught us to wear. Love is a flame. Its fires burn with intensity. A first kiss is an ember, an ember which burns in the arms of embrace. What follows is a catalyst, an intimacy that sets the fires ablaze, creating a great and radiant kiln. The masks of lovers streak down their faces, like a molten candle of desire. After such passion, the wax begins to harden, a beautiful and fragile work of art is formed. A sculpture in which two souls are intertwined, no matter for how brief a time. In such a state, one is truly naked. Love is vulnerability. Love is intimacy. She knows this, and so do I. Our masks are gone, and she lays writing in intimacy on the sheets of our play room. We come alive on the sheets. They are red, like the fires within our souls. We swim together in this lake of ecstasy and burning emotion. The flames of our love burn with an intensity most will never understand, and most do not wish to. Such things are taboo, such desires are repressed. Dominance, submission, bondage, all perversions, sick thoughts that lye only within the minds of people with inherently broken personalities, or so I have been told by people who's romances have all died and crumbled beneath their feet. Real trust is a silk rope on your lover's wrists.





Julian's eyes cracked open on an unusually cold October morning. The cool damp air wafted in through the crack of his bedroom window, he felt a chill run down his spin and drew the covers up to his chin. Salem stirred in the night and wrapped her long and slender arms around his neck. She rested her soft and delicate brown hair on his chest and softly yawned. He lightly ran his fingers through her delicate curls for several minutes before getting to his feet.

" Where are you going?" she asked softly.

"Out," he said with a quick peck on the lips "I love you."

He kissed her soft and tender neck, and he felt her pulse upon him, knowing that it beat for him and that he would cherish each an every beat he would feel in her presence. She softly moaned and he could fell her breath upon his lean torso in the cool air. With a longing look, he walked towards the doorway of their play room. Devices and implements lay neatly clasped upon hooks on the walls. the curtains were a deep sanguine, the walls were black with matching sanguine moldings. Candles lay on golden sticks about the room. He crosses the threshold and enters their living room. It was Messy and untidy unlike the play room. Random articles of clothing were strewn about the room along with beer and soda cans and a few dirty dishes. Julian stooped down to retrieve his black leather jacket that was balled up on the floor. He checks his pockets. He finds his keys, his phone, but he's missing something.

"Looking for this?" Salem asks with a knowing smile.

"Thanks pet," said Julian, hurriedly placing the object into his coat pocket. It was a knife. An old stiletto switch blade his grandfather had given him on his eighteenth birthday before he passed.
"Your a lover, not a fighter," he had told him with a thick Kentucky accent. "But sometimes a man has to fight to protect what he loves."






Chapter 1: Sol and Luna


Her elegant form lied beneath him. Her curvaceous hips bucked forward in frustration. She struggled to inch near her lover. Her bonds prevented this. Her thin wrists and ankles were gripped by thick leather cuffs, black with a red trim that popped in the back drop of the satin bed in which she was bound. Each had a length of red rope firmly knotted to it, binding her to the head and footboards of the bed. A small heart shaped padlock adorned each restraint. She was blind, for the moment. A leather blindfold obscured her vision and its musty, yet sweet, aroma wafted into her nostrils as she longingly inhaled. She was lost in a sea of mystery, and of need.
"Please?" she whispered, exhaling luxuriously. He felt his hot breath on her neck, she softly shuddered, his teeth gently scrapped against her silken. She felt his hand on the back of her head, the blindfold was slowly removed. Her sight gradually was restored. Her eyes inched upward to see her lover. The soft candle light reflected off of his lean and well muscled torso. He leaned forward and gingerly kissed her on the neck and lightly tonged his way down her torso, pausing between her full breast. She writhed in her restraints, a soft moan escaping her lips. This was met by a devilish grin.
He worked his way down her tense contracting abdomen and paused. She felt his hot breath upon her and quivered. With a grin he entered her. Her mouth opened wide, but no sound escaped her lips. She was in silent ecstasy as his hardened masculinity worked its way inside of her. He began to thrust. Slowly, and steadily, but with growing intensity. Her hips bucked into him as low and as a low and soft moan escaped his lips. She harmonized with her lover, the two crescendoed, a few final notes were played, and their song was complete.