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Women in Love

Page 253

This was release at last. She had had lovers, she had known passion.

But this was neither love nor passion. It was the daughters of men

coming back to the sons of God, the strange inhuman sons of God who are

in the beginning.

Her face was now one dazzle of released, golden light, as she looked up

at him, and laid her hands full on his thighs, behind, as he stood

before her. He looked down at her with a rich bright brow like a diadem

above his eyes. She was beautiful as a new marvellous flower opened at

his knees, a paradisal flower she was, beyond womanhood, such a flower

of luminousness. Yet something was tight and unfree in him. He did not

like this crouching, this radiance--not altogether.

It was all achieved, for her. She had found one of the sons of God from

the Beginning, and he had found one of the first most luminous

daughters of men.

She traced with her hands the line of his loins and thighs, at the

back, and a living fire ran through her, from him, darkly. It was a

dark flood of electric passion she released from him, drew into

herself. She had established a rich new circuit, a new current of

passional electric energy, between the two of them, released from the

darkest poles of the body and established in perfect circuit. It was a

dark fire of electricity that rushed from him to her, and flooded them

both with rich peace, satisfaction.

'My love,' she cried, lifting her face to him, her eyes, her mouth open

in transport.

'My love,' he answered, bending and kissing her, always kissing her.

She closed her hands over the full, rounded body of his loins, as he

stooped over her, she seemed to touch the quick of the mystery of

darkness that was bodily him. She seemed to faint beneath, and he

seemed to faint, stooping over her. It was a perfect passing away for

both of them, and at the same time the most intolerable accession into

being, the marvellous fullness of immediate gratification,

overwhelming, out-flooding from the source of the deepest life-force,

the darkest, deepest, strangest life-source of the human body, at the

back and base of the loins.

After a lapse of stillness, after the rivers of strange dark fluid

richness had passed over her, flooding, carrying away her mind and

flooding down her spine and down her knees, past her feet, a strange

flood, sweeping away everything and leaving her an essential new being,

she was left quite free, she was free in complete ease, her complete

self. So she rose, stilly and blithe, smiling at him. He stood before

her, glimmering, so awfully real, that her heart almost stopped

beating. He stood there in his strange, whole body, that had its

marvellous fountains, like the bodies of the sons of God who were in

the beginning. There were strange fountains of his body, more

mysterious and potent than any she had imagined or known, more

satisfying, ah, finally, mystically-physically satisfying. She had

thought there was no source deeper than the phallic source. And now,

behold, from the smitten rock of the man's body, from the strange

marvellous flanks and thighs, deeper, further in mystery than the

phallic source, came the floods of ineffable darkness and ineffable

riches.

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