The Tempting: Seducing the Nephilim. D. M. Pratt

his wife and to be part of a family. Her thoughts went to Philip. The Gregoires had married and repopulated through the centuries, their children born with thick black ribbons of curls and azure blue eyes … until Philip.

      Eve had seen the evolution of his features, each detail memorialized in oil, painted on ancient canvases, held captive in the gilded frames that displayed them. She had explored the paintings and letters and photos and all the dust-covered memorabilia and found the line of genetics that carried his features and those impossibly dark eyes. Sadly, she knew her family didn’t have his nose or eyes or hair. She could only see Beau in him. Beau had his mother’s eyes. None of it mattered. She loved her son and she felt certain she would forever be unconditionally in love with his father.

      Restless, she untangled herself from Beau and walked down the stairs. Eve meandered around their guest house. It was small and sweet, but she’d made enough changes in the antiquated décor so it felt like home at least until the big house was complete. She raided the refrigerator in the tiny kitchen and ate cold, fresh picked peaches, hungrily biting into them and letting the sweet juices run down her chin until it made her smile. Then, having made a mess of her face and her night gown, she headed up and into her bathroom, dropped her clothes on the floor in a heap and stepped naked into the warm water of her shower. The shower spray tingled and caressed her body, still electric from making love to Beau. His scent hung on her skin, his taste still lingered on her lips. There was no question, she loved him and he made her very happy.

      Her hands mindlessly soaped her body as Eve enjoyed the slippery bubbles as they lathered up in between her fingers. She washed her face, then her breasts. They felt fuller because of Philip’s nursing and Beau’s reverent attention to them, but the rest of her body was tight. She’d lost the baby weight. The long walks along the back forty made her muscles feel lean, firm and strong. She let her fingers slip down her stomach, across the tuft of blonde hair and between her legs. As she touched herself she thought of Beau again. She wanted him again. He had that effect on her. Eve smiled imagining her hands were Beau’s hands caressing her, arousing her, loving her. The water seemed to beat harder as she fingered her clitoris. She stepped closer, straddling the shower’s lower body jet. It had just the right amount of force and pushed right at her G spot. Eve stepped closer and closer until the rush of water pressed against her mound. She massaged her breasts and fondled her nipples as the water did its magic. Her breath quickened. Her head fell back, arching her spine as her erect nipples brushed the cool of the tile shower wall. The steam of water from above swirled over her, moist and hot. Eve turned up the water pressure until the sensation felt unbearably delicious and, just as she climaxed, her fingers slipped inside.

      Her eyes closed. She gasped with pleasure when suddenly an explosion of wild images filled her mind. At the same time, something physically grabbed her filling her, inside as if it were trying to possess her body. There was only blackness. Eve’s arms reached out to push the invisible force away. The harder she pushed the more it pressed in against her, holding her as she struggled. Whatever it was she could feel it all over her body, grabbing her breasts, sucking on her nipples, licking at her clitoris. It was inside her, huge, thick, hot pumping in and out and in a matter of seconds she erupted in orgasm. The fire of her orgasm pulsed in her inner walls and seized her in spasms so powerful it weakened her legs and sent her crashing down to her knees in a prayer of pleasure and horror. She knelt on the tiles in the rush of cascading, hot water, panting and wanting more of whatever surged inside her. Part of Eve wanted it to stop; the other part spread her legs, as it plunged deeper, pressing her into the floor. She opened her mouth to cry out for Beau, but a huge hand covered her face, leaving her in silent blackness.

      “Beau,” she whispered in her mind hearing only the echo of her helpless cry. Useless words swallowed up by the crash of water flailing against her on the shower floor.

      She called again for Beau to come, to protect her from the blinding, senseless images that crowded into her brain. It was as if they were pushing her toward some bottomless pit of erotic insanity. The images pulled her deeper into spiraling depths of pleasure so overwhelming she knew, if she gave in to them, she would disappear forever and never find her way back. There, on the shower floor, trembling, she made her mouth open and she screamed.

      “Stop!”

      In an instant the vision stopped and the simple sound of water falling was all that filled her ears. Unable to move, Eve allowed the water to cascade down on top of her and wash the fear from her mind. Lying on the shower floor, she grabbed the shampoo and scrubbed the attic dust from her hair and the strange feelings off her skin. She scrubbed so hard she thought her fingers would bleed. She was attempting to banish the thoughts and images she feared could only be the first signs of …what…insanity? Was she losing her mind? Was what happened a hallucination or was it real? Her body ached. She tried to shift her focus to all the responsibilities that awaited her. Trembling, Eve struggled to her feet, rinsed the soap away and stepped out of the shower. She held the wall as she sank to the floor, still weak and drained. Something caught her eye and when she looked up she saw Beau standing in the bathroom doorway towering above her, naked with his erect cock jutting into the room. It looked more like a weapon than a penis to Eve. When she could tear her eyes away from his raging erection, she looked up into his face. His expression was dreamlike and placid as if he were sleepwalking.

      “Beau,” she whispered.

      He didn’t look at her. He just stared wide-eyed into the room. Hearing his name, his erection melted and he turned and left without saying a word. Eve turned off the shower and listened as Beau’s footsteps padded down the hall and descended the back stairs. What the fuck was the only thought that passed through her head.

      She reached for a plush towel, gently dried herself and applied pear-scented lotion on her skin. Every inch of her skin ached as if it had been bruised, but there were no visible marks and the simple act of lotioning her body calmed her. Her hands vibrated with the slightest tremor like an old woman with weak muscles struggling to do the most mundane of tasks. Eve brushed and braided her hair into a long single plait. Her first step made it clear her legs were still weak. She dressed in a simple, pale green shift dress that gathered at her waist and had her favorite bone buttons running up its front. Carefully, she walked from her room, through the guest house second floor and down to the nursery. She suddenly felt concerned for her son’s safety. The look in Beau’s eyes haunted her. First she would take care of Philip, then she would deal with Beau.

      Philip’s room was peaceful and warm. Streams of soft yellow light reached through the window, flickering from harsh to soft, illuminating the chiffon curtains as they danced on the warm breeze that slipped in to fill the room. His nursery was the color of a summer sky with voluminous ivory clouds painted on the walls and ceiling. The color deepened into a periwinkle as it reached the bassinette and the clouds faded, allowing a tiny constellation of stars to splatter across the ceiling above her baby’s head. Eve tip-toed closer and looked down at her son with his black satin curls. He looked up at her. His eyes were the darkest brown she’d ever seen, the color of pure, bittersweet, dark chocolate found in the best Swiss candy. Sometimes, in low light, she would gaze into Philip’s eyes and feel as if she were drowning in two dark, shimmering pools of liquid velvet. His eyes seemed to pierce her soul. He knows I am losing my mind, she thought. His knowing stare held her. No matter how hard she tried, she was unable to look away. Again, she felt a rush of fear as she fell into her son’s eyes. He knew and then he would gurgle and smile and reach for her finger or pull her hair and the icy feeling of fear melted away and Eve fell in love all over again. Philip smiled up at her and Eve reached into his crib and gathered him up into her arms.

      After her strength returned, she and Philip would walk in the gardens and orchards surrounding their mansion, breathing the soft air of spring, then summer, and now the chill of fall. The unseasonably frosty nights had destroyed any fruit still left on the trees and turned the leaves from light green to a dark emerald and jade forest. It wouldn’t be long before the deciduous trees, the sycamore and elm, did their dance of color and turned to shades of gold, orange and burgundy, before dropping to the ground so she and Philip could play, roll around, and throw them into the cloudy blue sky and laugh as they watched leaves drift, caught on the swirl of an autumn breeze.

      Noticing the changes in weather