Chapter 11 Magnetic North
Xiaoyu
My dreams are nothing short of horrifying. I never dream of Brother Bear again but the monster that haunts him. It’s as if it’s taken interest in me after that meet-cute. Sometimes it’s a spider, sometimes it’s just a hole. Tonight, it’s taken the form of a forest.
I lay on its soft, mossy mattress and sigh. There’s a perfume in the air and it smells of sweet, sweet romance. I stretch as the ropes of thorny vines rip my clothes. They’re not patient—they’re wild, insatiable like writhing snakes. They strip me until my clothes are in tatters.
Roots coil my way, trapping my ankles, wrists.
Something else twists my hair, pulling, kneading.
The ground quakes, vocalizing its hunger.
Like waves, lines and lines of foxgloves come my way.
There’s so many of them they look like a tsunami.
They move with a slow certainty that tickles my skin.
They caress me, but the buds are biting me, too.
Soft, tiny teeth surround the thousands of bell-like petals and I move my hips, my neck, inviting them for more. My skin is hot, reaching a fever pitch as it slides over my pussy. Gliding, sucking like it knows what I want. What I need.
My breaths come in hard, fast. I am gasping, “Don’t stop” on repeat as it vibrates. My muscles are tight, so, so ready to come. To arrive. My sight is clouded, all I’m seeing are the cups of poison. My lips part, and I sigh. I am free, unshackled as the spikes enter me.
Through me. Over me. Inside me. They are everywhere until they sneak into my mouth. They’re not kind at all. They twist in my throat and I choke, clawing at my neck. I’m drowning in putrid stomach acid before my eyes flash open.
My stomach clenches, and I curl over myself. This…is so not sexy.
“Xiaoyu?”
My eyes flash open and embarrassment fills me again. I hate this. Today, I find out I hate relying on someone for my food as much as I hate being edged.
I sit up from the bed and see that Datu is wet. Like he’s just come from a soak in the creek. Is there one close by?
There’s a cheeky grin on his face, but I see something behind that lofty, easygoing smile. I just can’t put a finger on what it is. “Nice dream?”
Ignoring his question, I hide my burning face. It’s still dark and I feel well-rested enough. Datu wears a loin cloth now that hangs dangerously loose. One tug, it’s off.
“How long was I asleep?”
“Half the night.”
I chew on my lip. “How long in human time?” There’s an iridescent sheen around us and I have the ridiculous intrusive thoughts to stick my tongue out and taste it.
He thinks about it for a moment, still braiding his dripping hair. “I believe twelve human hours.”
“We have twelve more hours of night left? Are you for fucking real?” It’s my knee-jerk reaction to shock.
He grins, showing me his sharp set of chompers. “Yes, I am for fucking real.”
This just goes to show how extreme the heat is here. Even long nights can’t protect them from drought. I breathe in, and I know that glitter is in my lungs.
I scratch my head as something between my thighs pound. “If that’s the case, we need to get some work done. Scope the people. You guys don’t sleep, right?”
“I do not sleep. The others rest.”
“Oh, is that because you’re the chief of the island?”
There’s a sinister air in the way he stares at me. “In a way, yes.”
I bite the inside of my cheek in annoyance. He is being deliberately evasive. “So, can we visit them tonight or not?”
He drops his hair, the tail-tip of it landing against his loin cloth. Without a warning, he stalks toward me, his eyes glinting with mischief. Automatically, I back away. The panic makes me immune to my ankle’s pain, but as the bed hits the back of my thighs, I can’t help but fall helplessly.
He falls along with me, locking me between his arms.
My heart skips a beat then flutters.
“If you ask nicely, we can.” He is teasing.
I am a sputtering idiot. I could have put him in his place, demand he take me to them. But his proximity is intoxicating.
“P-please, Datu..?”
He blinks slowly. “On your knees,” he commands.
I can’t fight the authority in his voice. I’m drunk in his presence, soaked. Drenched in pools of wine that’s Datu.
“Are you for fucking real?” I squirm but the fight in me is feeble.
His grin just grows wider. “I am always for fucking real.”
I must be dead, or dying and having a ferocious fever dream. He backs away from me and crosses his arms, waiting.
“I have time,” he says, devilishly low.
“I’m injured,” I counter weakly.
“Not for me, you aren’t.”
Unable to help myself, I drop to my knees. The call is instinctual. I’m a small needle pulled by the Magnetic North.
“Your hands, Xiaoyu. On the ground, yes. Yesssss.”
My skin is on fire, my nipples puckering underneath my ripped camisole. The blanket falls off me, and I’m there, crawling with single-minded purpose. To revere Datu on my hands and knees. I want to skin him with my tongue, rough and violent.
God. What is wrong with me?
My teeth are aching as he licks his lips. Behind him, something tall starts to grow. It’s made of black stone blanketed by climber vines. It has taken the form of a tall throne. If one can bloom, this does. It’s an inflorescence of coiled dionaea, the snap-trap an alluring deep, deep red…
He crooks his finger at me. “Closer.”
Sensual. That’s him right now. Pure, unadulterated sensuality. Dripping like honeycomb. Irresistible. I want to bare my teeth and bite him. Arms around his leg, I feel like I’m going to fly away if I don’t anchor myself to him.
My palm touches his shin, and he trembles.
My mouth’s watering as I slide my tongue over his skin.
The muscle, the tiny hairs, I feel it in me.
On me. Inch by filthy inch is in my system.
My teeth graze him, one hand raking underneath the loin cloth before I rip it away.
I know he doesn’t have a cock, but boy, he has a bulge.
Something big is fighting against the cilia that held his slit closed. I almost giggle with delight.
He makes a noise in his chest, and this one is loud. It’s not his amorphous voice. It’s physically in him—this sound. He’s just as affected as I am.
“What is happening to me?” I gasp as I trap his foot between my knees. I’m a quivering mess as I roll my hips, grinding my pussy against him. I really can’t help it. It’s as if I’m going to die if I don’t get close enough. My hand on his bulge glides down to the last cilia.
“Something you were always meant to do.”
His hand grazes through my hair, pulling, kneading, twisting it in his grip. So much like the roots in my dreams. Datu’s body is emanating a humming noise that heightens every sensation.
It’s as if someone has put a voiceover on reverb.
Datu’s voice has deepened. He’s sunk that sound into me until it’s all I hear on repeat.
He lifts me to him until I straddle one thigh.
Ripping the rest of my clothes, a mouth latches on to my nipple.
The points of his teeth are hedonistic agony.
My carnal need to be clawed apart, ripped open, and devoured is excessive.
It spills. It almost feels violating. Non-consensual if my body did not rankle so much for it.
“Come for me.” His voice has hands stroking my hypersensitive skin.
Hands grab my hips, Datu slams me down his thigh. There, I find the pearly gates. I’m in heaven as my wet pussy glides through the small protruding ribbing of his tattoos. He licks up my neck, my jaw, everywhere he can reach. There’s a desperation in him as he sinks those claws into me.
Maybe I’ve gone insane, but I want to pry his slit open. Just to see what’s inside…just to see. My hands don’t know what to do as my legs shake. I’m there, almost there.
When his hand touches my pussy, I’m undone. I’m spiraling—undulating. I’m blind as my eyes roll back. The loudest, most guttural moan comes out of me as he quickens my pace on him.
As soon as I reach my peak, I’m back on the bed. Quick fingers make work of my clit, his face between my thighs—watching in fascination as liquid squirts out of me.
“Look at how much you want this. You are drenching me.”
Holy... I don’t care how embarrassing this should be. I don’t care that the air is thick with that powder. I don’t care my body is fucking slick with sweat. The only thing I care about? How much pleasure Datu can give me beyond this one…
My pussy clenches around nothing, and I whimper.
“I want to eat you,” he groans against my skin. He isn’t asking. He’s informing me.
Yes, please!
My fingers twist around his long hair and I’m pulling like I might just fly off the bed if I don’t. His rough tongue hits the very spot I need him the most. His hands push my legs wider, his teeth piercing my swollen pussy.
There’s nothing half-assed at the way he’s eating me out. He’s ready to tear me apart if it wasn’t for the way those glowing eyes hold my gaze. Deliberately, he slides the tip of his tongue over my clit. It makes me writhe and he notices this.
He flips us over and before I know it, I’m riding his face, my hands finding purchase. My weak legs can’t hold my weight as he continues to ravage me.
“I cannot get enough of you. Hold your hands up and let go, my sweet dreamer.”
Doing as he says, ribbons of silk trap my wrists together, holding me up. I can’t even think straight enough to deduce the how and the why.
As soon as he plunges a tongue into me, I’m gone. I’m screaming, and I don’t care when he parts my cheeks and strokes me there, too. It adds another level of depravity when I hear his lapping grow wetter. I can’t believe how soaked I am.
“Datuuuu…ooohhhh….” I cried, overwhelmed at all the sensations. He needs to stop. If he starts fingering me, I’m probably going to die.
Wave after wave of orgasm slams into me, and I’m still suspended when he kneels in front of me. His face is drenched. I can’t look away at that satisfied male grin.