In the Grotto Cav
In the Grotto
Cav
Cav has started to sense Lyx. His body has adjusted to a new rhythm, forgoing the cycle of the sun in exchange for the comings and goings of the siren. He has a feeling she’s coming back, and when he pushes up onto his elbows, he glimpses something in the water.
“Close your eyes!” Lyx shouts.
He’s tempted to disobey. Now that his strength is returning, he could sit up completely and crawl toward the water. He could see Lyx in all her glory.
But her voice comes sharply again. “I said, close your fucking eyes!”
There’s an edge of panic in her voice. He does as he’s told, but he can’t deny the easy grin when he hears her emerge.
Water taps against the rocks, dripping from her body into her footsteps.
He waits for her to drop supplies, or chastise him, or grumble about his presence, but she doesn’t do any of that.
Instead, her fingers brush his jaw. Only then does he open his eyes, as surprised by the touch as he is by the softness.
He drinks in the sight of her, watching her gaze dart over him like she’s expecting new injuries.
If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she looked worried. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
Her body stiffens. She doesn’t answer, but her aura changes as she rifles through the bag on her shoulder. “It’s time to be rid of you.”
By now, her threats have become a comfort, but there’s something different today. A renewed purpose. A furious intention. A resolute rod through her spine.
“If you will it,” Cav murmurs absently, but his eyes are drawn to the fading mark on her hip. “How’s the burn?”
She stops moving. When she turns to face him, her teeth are grit, gaze murky with something Cav can’t quite reach. “Do you not think I’ll do it?” Lyx hisses. “You don’t think I can kill you?”
His mouth hangs open. “I believe you can.”
“But you don’t believe I will.” Her glare stays on him when she stands.
She closes the space, wrapping her fingers around his throat to push him back against the wall.
His airway tightens, hips bracketed by her knees digging into the dirt on either side.
Lyx is panting, but Cav’s breathing keeps a steady pace, even when she clenches her fist around his throat. “Why don’t you fight back?” she snarls.
He wets his lips. “I don’t want to.”
She watches his mouth, her grip wavering before she tightens it again. Her fingers press against his pulse. His head swims, and he shakes — but it’s not him at all. It’s her arms trembling before she jerks them away.
The two of them stay like that, chests rising and falling against each other. Cav has a strange urge to comfort her, to guide her hands back to his neck, but then, she roots inside her bag and shoves a bottle against his chest. “Drink.”
A dark purple liquid sloshes inside. Cav reaches for it, but he doesn’t take it, brushing the inside of her wrist with his fingertips instead. “Pour it for me.”
Her hand skitters away from his. “You’re well enough to hold the bottle.”
“And I’m weak enough to want it from your hand.”
Waves crash behind her. Neither of them moves, and he relishes her weight against him, a reminder that she’s real. She’s here.
It’s not like him to be patient, but he wants nothing more than to look at her, to note every detail of her face. Her finned ears flushing, throat swallowing, fingers curling…
After some time, she jerks the cork from the bottle and lifts it into the air. It’s a game of chicken she knows she’ll win, until Cav opens his mouth and lays out the flat of his tongue. Her breathing falters. “It could be poison.”
Cav grins. “You wouldn’t give away the opportunity to kill me yourself.”
Her eyes widen, and he’s not sure if it’s a look of shock, or disgust, or awe. “What is wrong with you?” she whispers. Her eyes are on his mouth again, and he’s not sure what she wants to do with it.
Whatever it is, he’ll take it. Maybe he likes the thrill too much. Maybe any outcome is worth the chance to get closer to her. He inches forward, eyelids heavy. “I dare you to do it.”
Her fingers flex around the bottle. He doesn’t look at it, too consumed with every minute shift on her face. When she tilts the bottle, he opens his mouth, swallowing eagerly until errant rivulets of liquid streak down his chin. He drinks until she decides it’s enough.
It doesn’t matter what it is. All that matters is Lyx collecting the spills in droplets on her nails and knuckles. Gently, Cav takes her wrist and laves his forked tongue over every finger until they’re clean.
The bottle clatters down the rocky shore, but he can’t hear it when Lyx grips his shirt and tugs him toward her. He follows eagerly, but she doesn’t let him any closer with her hand pressing on his chest. “You…”
The word grinds out of her, like she’s holding herself back.
Like she doesn’t want to want this. Like this is out of her control.
His lips part like a flower unfurling. “Use your song. Use it on me.” He’s a fool to ask, but he can’t shake the thought, desperately clawing to have one more piece of her.
Her pupils blow wide and hungry. “No one hears it and lives.”
“Then kill me.”
He is a fool, but he doesn’t care. For a week, all he’s done is imagine this moment — her luscious curves under his touch, her hands digging into him, her emotions boiling over between them.
Perhaps tonight is his last, so he won’t waste it.
He wants everything he can get. Everything she’ll give him.
Her fingers tangle in his hair, her mouth against his cheek while she rolls her hips in his lap. All he can do is groan, bucking when her teeth graze the shell of his ear, and her voice sounds like a melody. “Kiss me the way you’ve been dreaming about.”
A haze settles over him. It’s so easy to give into. He doesn’t realize an invisible hand has reached into his chest and taken over. His heart no longer needs to beat. There is only her control pumping through him, sending her song through his veins to encourage his body to move for her.
All he wants is to follow her command. All he wants is to obey.
It’s intoxicating, molding his free will into the shape of hers. He has no desires outside of her. He wants only what she does. He would give up any drug, any drink, any religion to fulfill her. This is why pirates jump from their ships. This is why sailors sink to their death.
And it’s all worth it.
He kisses her. He has dreamt of this in every way there is. Ravenous, teeth and tongue desperate to have her. Slow and steady, indulging in every inch of her mouth. Sensually, cradling the back of her neck and trailing down her throat.
She matches him every time. The two of them are like waves colliding, seafoam fizzing, water splashing over them. She kisses like they’re running out of time. Like this will never be enough.
He could kiss her for hours, but she finally pulls away, lips swollen and cheeks flushed.
Already, he misses the sour taste of her mouth, the feel of her song wrapping around him.
He doesn’t want this to end. His grip tightens on her thighs, and she shivers when he brushes her scales.
Between them, there’s only the fabric of his pants doing nothing to disguise the slick marks she leaves behind.
Lyx’s eyes are glassy and bright, watching where they meet. “You shouldn’t ask for more,” she says, but her hips keep moving, making him hiss when he hardens. “Any pirate who knows the depths of a siren’s cunt soon knows the depths of the sea as well.”
With one hand, he grabs the full flesh of her ass to rock her against him. “I’m willing to die for it. For yours.”
Her tongue clicks, but her hips don’t stop moving. “So ready to risk it all.” When he tries to watch her work, she tugs on the back of his hair to force his eyes up. “But you couldn’t handle the way I’d fuck you. The things I’d do to you.”
When her hips swivel, his pants inch lower, dragging through the patch of scales that leads between his legs.
His body glows from within, leaking molten desire through the cracks in his nether scales.
Lyx drags against the sliver of Cav’s exposed skin, gasping when her wet desire sizzles against his heat.
The lips of her pussy curve around one of his scales and hug tight when she grinds against it.
“You sure it’s me who couldn’t handle it?” Cav rasps.
Her cheeks flush darker. She presses her palms to his chest, forcing his back to the wall. “This’ll give you something else to dream about.” Each word is drawn out by the winding of her hips. “How you got so close. How you almost fucked a siren.”
Gods, she could move his pants lower. She could tug them down and ride him the way they both want, but she doesn’t.
She keeps rocking over his clothes, smearing a mess between them.
Her clit is sloppy and swollen and begging for attention.
When he reaches for it, she pins his wrists above his head.
It traps him, forcing him to watch her take her pleasure.
He groans under the delicious pressure, the leverage she uses to fuck herself against him.
His chest glows brighter. Her hungry eyes cling to it, one hand lowering to tug on the ties of his shirt. When she molds his bare breast in her palm, he bites his lip to keep from moaning, but there’s no stopping the sound when she teases his nipple until it hardens.
He arches into her. There is no hesitancy in her touch, equally hungry for every part of him, like she would brand her teeth into his breasts and thighs and neck just to remind him who he’s captive to.
He wishes she would. Gods, he wants her so badly, he might burn out of his skin. He wants more of this. He wants it again and again. He doesn’t care how foolish it is.
There is something wild within her, spurring her on, sending her hair spilling over her shoulder. Her mouth scrapes his with a fervor he hasn’t felt before. “You can never come back,” she gasps. Her motions grow stronger along with her voice. “Swear it.”
Nothing comes out of him. He can hardly think with the heat burrowing in his gut. All he can see are her hips rocking, her wet cunt clenching around his scales, her lips parting when she whines. “Say it.”
They can’t stop, frantically spiraling while their desperate desires clash and climb and race toward the peak.
“Swear you’ll never return here,” she grits. “Swear you’ll never even try.”
His teeth clamp together. Of all the things she’s done to him, this is the worst. It doesn’t matter that she’s setting him free. He won’t say it. It’s the one thought he can’t bear. It’s a denial of the only thing he wants.
A furious look sparks in her eyes. “Swear it, pirate!”
It almost sounds like a plea, but Cav knows better. Why would she beg when she could command it? There’s no use fighting. He is helpless to deny her, with or without her song. Mournfully, he breathes out. “I swear.”
She meets him like waves crashing against rocks, overtaking him and dragging him down into his release.
Her teeth dig into his lip to hide her sounds.
It draws blood to the surface, and all he can do is whimper when she rakes her tongue against it.
Lava swells between his scales and leaves a sticky mess between them.
Her head drops to his shoulder. She catches her breath in the crook of his neck, and he has the irresistible urge to hold her, to fit their mouths together, to convince her to keep him here…but darkness seeps in from the rims of his eyes.
Lyx lifts her head like she knows it’s coming. She eases him onto his back and hovers over him. When sleep overtakes him, she fades from his vision and into his dreams.