CHAPTER TWO
I open my eyes to the familiar scent of pine. Cloves. The rich musk of soil. It lingers through the open space where I lie on a soft bed of feathers beneath a canopy of stars and tangled branches.
“Rina.” His voice rushes with urgency, with a pull of desperation that has me pushing up on the sheets. “You’re here.”
I almost laugh at the statement.
“Aren’t I always?” I tease.
At my feet, several yards away, a roaring inferno blazes. It lunges for the stars in rapid flicks and restless shivers. It paints the trees, catches on the slick dew exuding from the bark. The sweet warmth crawls the distance to fill the space between my thighs and drape over me like a blanket.
A lover.
A weight I shift under, anxious for something I can’t name.
Desperate for something I can’t have. I lie and watch the colors paint my skin a soft gold.
Watch them harden my swollen nipples to sharp, aching points.
The plump mounds jut proudly up towards the heavens, so soft and sensitive, and needy.
So needy.
My core is on fire. A throbbing mess of nerves begging for the thing I haven’t had in years. My unused channel pangs and clenches like that might do anything, but it only makes me all the more aware of the emptiness.
And the leaking moisture, warming in the firelight.
“I thought I lost you.”
Nails presses through my chest at the pain in his voice.
“I’m here,” I promise, shifting, nudging back the sheets like I’m ready to go to him.
“It’s time, my love. Come home. Come back to me.”
I crawl to the foot of the bed, baffled by this new request.
“What do you mean?”
The fire snaps. Ashes flare, sending tiny embers through the air.
“I need you. Open your legs,” says the deep voice from everywhere and nowhere. A voice dusty with age and power, and such command I am powerless to disobey. “Show me where that sweet smell is coming from. Where you will take my seed when you return.”
The bed vanishes and I lie in a familiar bed of pine, my senses a betrayal of my body as I watch the branches shiver overhead and the shadows dance with the moon.
All around me, the wind sighs my name as if it has been waiting eons for me to return to it. It scuttles through the branches and shivers with the leaves.
When it blows over me, licks the salt on my skin, I’m made aware of my nudity. Of my vulnerable state at the center of a clearing in the night with only the softest fern and petals as my mattress.
I can’t see him, but my knees lift and spread of their own accord. A whine sticks at the back of my throat at the first lick of heat up my core. Through my wet folds.
“Yes,” it purrs. Growls. “That. Is. Mine.”
I can’t object.
Every inch of me belongs to him. He owns me with a certainty I would never question.
And I would die for him.
I would set my soul on fire just to feel a brush of his fingers on my skin.
I need him with such mindless devotion I’m writhing and spreading myself wider for it.
So desperate to please the thing in the shadows watching me from the other side of the fire.
Hidden from me by the leaping flames and endless night.
Even the light envelops him so I only catch glimpses of white bone and dark eyes.
Antlers.
Majestic arches that extend and vanish into the dark.
Even in my sleep fog, I calculate the flames to reach nine feet. Maybe more. But he stands taller. A proud figure cloaked in black.
And I’m not scared.
I should be. Logic tells me I should be terrified of being alone and naked, my most vulnerable place on display. But even without eyes, his scrutiny enthralls me. His attention, his desire for me ignites a wildness I know only he can tame.
“Say it,” it taunts. “Tell me what you want.”
God, what do I want?
Him.
I want him with an absolute madness that claws at my senses. I want him with the desperation of a starved woman being offered food. I’m starving, so lost without him I’m ready to cry.
“Missed you. Please,” I beg him, and follow the request by dragging one hand to my eager center.
The other I cup my breast, and I tease the nipple while my first hand pulls my lips apart to expose my swollen clit. My tender and soaked hole, ready to get filled and abused.
“Here?” he taunts. “In the dirt, on your knees like some filthy animal?”
I should hate that.
I should be outraged and offended and embarrassed, but I’m rubbing my pussy fast and hard. Hips lifting to meet every stroke. I palm my tits, pinch the nipples.
“Anyway you want me,” I pant, back arching. “Just ... fill me. I need your cock.”
I’m so close.
If he doesn’t hurry, I’m going to finish and I need him.
His chuckle is dark. A sinister snap like the log in the flames. The sound coats me with a feeling of such pleasure I nearly purr.
“Get on your knees, my love. I’m going to use you like you’re meant to be.”
No questions asked, I turn over onto my hands and knees. My ass lifts to the creature in the distance. Knees wide in the sharp pine needles and velvet fern leaves. Fingers fist into dirt like I can anchor myself in preparation.
Every muscle quivers with anticipation. My pussy flexes and releases with greed, hunger to finally ... finally feel him. To finally get stretched and fucked and pumped full of cum. My thighs tremble and I spread them wider until I’m practically doing the splits.
Fuck me. Please. Please, I beg silently.
I’m so tense that the first smack of a whip has a scream ripping out of me. My entire body jerks forward. The area burns with white hot agony.
It comes down again on the other cheek before I can catch my breath. On the back of my thighs. The bottom of my feet. It rains in rapid succession until I’m sobbing through the pain.
“Tell me to stop,” he mocks while I snivel into the ground. “But you won’t, will you? Your cunt is leaking down your legs. The smell is intoxicating.”
My answer is to lift my ass higher.
My reward is the sharp snap of his whip straight against my mound. My clit. The sting has me howling even as I teeter. As I rock on the edge and my toes dig into the dirt and my back heaves.
“Again,” I croak. “Please. Again.”
I hear his groan. His harsh curse of my sweet little whore.
Then the smack.
Hard.
Again.
Again.
My screams drown the night. Even to my own ears, they are wild. Feral. They’re the screams of a woman on the cusp.
I cum.
And he gives me no peace when he slams inside me. Fills my seizing cunt with a velvet invasion of something thick, textured, but soft.
Not a penis.
The thing is endless. Miles of coiling vines that keep invading and filling.
My attempts to lurch forward as the pressure becomes too much are met with vines around my thighs. My ankles. I’m pulled open as he continues to spool inside me. Stretching my cunt and my belly. Both are stuffed and I have no more room but he’s still going.
And I’m cumming again.
I’m bucking and wailing at the weight of him pushing on something inside me.
But that’s not enough for him when the tendrils find my back entrance. When they force themselves inside with no preparation. No lubrication. Just raw torture that only adds to the sweet agony of my core extending.
And I can’t.
Can’t fight.
Can’t escape.
Can’t stop the never-ending orgasm turning me hoarse.
The vines around my limbs stretch and expand and drag up my body. They pull through my folds and torture my tender clit as the leaves nick and bite.
They twist around my breasts and rub my nipples. They don’t stop until they’re looped around my throat with just enough pressure to remind me he’s in charge.
“More,” he breathes. “Don’t stop. I want it all.”
I am prepared to do whatever he asks as he continues to fill both my holes and stroke my clit. Although I’m never prepared when he fists my hair and I find myself face to face with the biggest, scariest cock I’ve ever seen.
Like all my dreams, I’m resigned to his midsection ... barely. It’s like my eyes and neck can’t move higher than that. All I get is a full view of the inky column of meat protruding from the center of his magnificent body.
The black beast with the thick, pulsing veins weave through the girthy shaft from the base and over the hard, swelling knot at the base. The head is a flat spade with a tiny hole at the center that shines with a clear liquid.
I’m given no chance to react when it’s forced between my lips and down to the back of my throat.
His pre-cum smears across my tongue and I groan at the explosion of sweet ecstasy.
At the commanding fist in my hair. The driving thrusts of his hips that match the hard strokes of the vines slamming into me from behind.
I’m cumming again. I don’t even sense it before it hits me. The pressure has tears running down my face. Hot, sticky liquid gushes down my trembling thighs. I’m gasping and shuddering even as I push down to take more.
I never want him to stop.
I’m so hungry and desperate to stay in this moment that I blow his cock like there’s treasure in his balls.
I fall on him, over him, with the same enthusiasm as a porn star.
I even push higher on my knees, steadying my weight on his strong hips before reaching for his dick.
For the lump. I wrap both hands around the smooth, hard curve and squeeze.
I massage and jerk in time to eager plunges of my mouth taking the rest of him.
“That’s ... so ... good,” he groans, voice a husky rasp of such pleasure my pussy gushes. “You’re going to take my knot, little human. I’m going to cork your cunt and keep filling you until your belly swells with my seed.”
My response is the nudge and tease of my tongue in his hole, collecting every drop of his delicious release. It’s pushing down as far as I can take him before the bulge stops me.
The vine over my clit unfurls. I think to finally let the aftershocks of my climax subdue, but it returns almost immediately to mirror me. Replicating the motion of my tongue in fast, steady flicks that have my eyes rolling back and my knees quivering.
“You’re so wet,” he breathes as I crumble and soak the ground with a fresh surge of release. “It will take no effort to take me. To let me lock inside you and breed you.”
Realistically, there is no way he can fit. No matter how badly I want him to try.
But the thought of him forcing me until my belly balloons with his cum has me stroking his cock harder, faster.
“Make me,” I beg. “Force me to take every inch.” I circle the slit with my tongue to catch what comes out. A lot does. “Don’t stop until I take every drop.”
The claw in my hair tightens.
“Fuck, such a good girl.”
His chest rumbles with a deep, primal growl that eradicates any lingering fingers of sanity I may have had left. It turns my brain to mush and I practically melt against him.
“Get on your back, spread your hole like you’re meant to and show me where I belong.”
How can I deny him anything when he is writhing and twisting inside me? When I’m so full and he’s pushing against the magical spot deep inside that has my thighs quivering.
The vines move with me, shifting and tangling without dislodging when I maneuver onto my back.
In this position, I should have a clear view of my monster, but he is still shadows from the waist up.
But that’s not important as I grab my ankles and pull them to my ears.
A position I could never pull off awake.
But in my dreams, I hold myself open for him.
Show him the shiny, messy state of my center already occupied by his . .. tentacles?
The vines never stop. Never slow. They continue slithering in and out of each opening. At this angle, I get to watch them. Get to see the four thin membranes stuffed in my vagina and the two in my ass.
“Oh God,” I moan, knowing I should be horrified by the sight of my belly bulging and rippling with their movement.
Instead, I watch as my muscles seize and tighten with my climax. Thick, clear liquid squirts out around the thrashing foliage as I writhe across the ground, back arching, toes curling.
“Look at you,” he taunts, fat cock gripped in a giant, clawed hand. “You’re going to be the perfect sleeve. A ready hole I can stick my cock in and fuck whenever I get hard.”
My head falls back with a sob I can’t contain. My body shudders violently with the exit of the vines slithering free, leaving me empty and still so horny.
The creature studies my opening from his towering height. I can’t tell where his eyes are or his face, but I feel the weight. Feel the hunger.
Just as the wait seems infinite, his silhouette folds. It bends and compresses. One massive, clawed hand slams into the ground next to my head. The other holds his cock, guiding it to my opening.
––––––––
––––––––
I jolt awake.
A choked gasp wheezes out of me as I bolt upright. The room is still, quiet, but my pussy is on fire. The crotch of my jeans is soaked like I wet myself and I am so mindlessly close to the edge I don’t even second guess my actions when I tear open my snaps and shove a hand between my thighs.
The heat and mess coat my fingers before I even force two into my throbbing cunt and cum. Right on my aunt’s sofa, I howl and bow in half as the cliff crumbles under me and I fall. As the world collapses and I submit to the pleasure.
But the aftereffects are less thrilling. Opening my eyes to the dark rafters, surrounded by the stench of dust and lingering floor cleaner, I feel homesick.
Not my parents’ basement.
The woods. The scent of pine and soil, and him. He was only a dream but the musky swirl of cloves and smoke haunt me.
I need to get a grip.
Just because the best sex I’ve had in years was with a figment of my imagination doesn’t mean...
A knock echoes across the walls. A gentle, but firm explosion of sound that nearly sends me sliding off the sofa. I barely catch myself and leap to my feet. My fingers are visibly trembling as I rework the fastens and try to orient myself.
I have no idea what time it is, but it’s late enough that normal people wouldn’t be out and about. But it’s the storm still howling outside that has me hurrying into the hallway. There’s a good chance someone’s car broke down or got stuck in a snowbank.
I wrench open the door and freeze.
The greeting dies on my tongue. The words lock in my throat. I can’t formulate any as I stare up into the darkest set of brown eyes.
“Kellen?”