CHAPTER FIVE #2
I even stare at my open palms, trying to find it, but it’s gone and another set of fingers are curling around mine. I’m being drawn out of Roan’s lap, but the floor has turned into a giant waterbed and I sway into a solid weight of heat.
“Easy,” Lukan says from above me.
“Did ... did you drug me?”
I try to arrange my words to form the thoughts I can’t keep straight. A deep part of me wonders if I should be scared. I know them and I trust them, but they’ve never drugged me before and I don’t understand why they would now.
“Shit. It didn’t work.”
Roan’s panic is overruled by Lukan telling him to calm down
“Maybe we didn’t give the right amount,” he muses, voice distorted with a hollow tinny sound.
“It’s this place,” Kellen grumbles. “It might not work the same here. Let’s put her to bed and we’ll figure it out.”
“I’m ... I’m not tired,” I snap, annoyed.
“We know, sweetheart. It wasn’t supposed—”
I get myself untangled from his hold, but without his support, I fall into Roan who catches me and swings me up into his chest.
“You’ll hurt yourself.”
Everything is pulsing. The light is too bright grilling my eyes. They well with tears even with the hand I use to shield them.
“Roan.”
His arms tighten. His breath warms my temple where his lips brush skin.
“It’s okay, baby. Sleep.”
But I don’t want to.
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The crisp scent of pine greets me before I even open my eyes. It washes across my skin with the deliberate caress of a lover’s hand. Deft strokes over my nipples and down the plains of my stomach.
I suck in a breath and part my eyelids to the interwoven tapestry of naked branches. The filmy overcast pouring through like shattered waterfalls to illuminate my nest of leaves and pine, and the fire roaring at my feet.
And the creature hidden behind the flames.
“You left me.”
The deep baritone cadence of his voice scrapes with such delicious pleasure down my torso to my core. It stokes every nerve. Teases the fire building between my thighs.
I shift and the leaves rustle beneath me. My fingers dig into the earth like it can stop me from touching all the places I need him.
“Please,” I beg.
I extend my legs, part them. I bare myself to his gaze and wait for mercy.
Around me, the foliage shivers. The ground shifts. A second later, velvet vines bind my ankles. My knees. My wrists. More twist across my waist. Between my thighs.
I’m hoisted off the bed and dangled from the trees, supported by the restraints around my knees, waist and wrists. The position has my knees pulled wide, my sex open and exposed. Vulnerable to the thick braid of vines that force their way inside.
My scream is a choked gasp that echoes too loud in the soft silence. It tumbles from my lips as my head falls back and my muscles tense. As my limbs jerk and the bindings holding me creak.
He’s angry.
I can feel it in the reckless invasion of tendrils unfurling from their knot. Spilling free inside me with flailing tips that snap against my walls.
“Please,” I whine again, though I’m not sure if I’m asking him to stop.
Not when the sharp strings feel so good. When the pressure and stretch of my opening is exactly what I need. But it’s more than that. It’s the suspension, the weightlessness. Of simply floating while being given unimaginable pleasure.
“I was not done with you,” he growls low in his throat.
A new vine prods my back entrance. It circles the puckered opening. Nudges against the resistance. But ultimately coaxes in and rubs against the membrane separating it from the writhing mass in the other channel.
“I wasn’t done torturing you.”
I lift my head, and I’m not surprised to find him in front of me.
His dark silhouette, a shadow rippling with power and desire.
In the semi light, I am level enough with his massive chest to make out the tight, hard roots crossing and winding like armor over every inch.
They cover every chiseled muscle. Every line and valley of his torso.
But I still can’t see his face. Even with all the streaks of light, he continues to find the shadows in between.
“Didn’t want to leave,” I tell him.
The chaotic flailing slows. The tendrils calm. The very air around him clears to something breathable.
Giant hands edged with jagged claws lift to my face. Each palm is the size of my head as he gently cradles my cheeks.
“It’s time to come home, Rina. Come back to me.”
It’s asked so softly. With such pain my heart twists.
“You’re a dream,” I tell him, devastated by my own rationality. “I’ll wake up again and you’ll be gone like you always are.”
His thoughts are unclear with the heavy swirl of shadows hiding him from me. But his thumbs catch beneath my chin, and my face is tipped to his.
“Not if you let me in,” he murmurs. “I will never let you go again.”
I don’t understand, nor do I get to ask when the bindings tighten and pull. I’m hoisted out of his hold. Lifted towards the trees above. Lifted to his face. Level with where his head would be.
My breath catches even before the vines slip free with a wet, slippery pop.
I stare into the shadows, fully recognizing he has grown bigger.
Taller. His antlers still don’t reach the branches canopying our shelter, but I think they have expanded higher, giving him space to become a size that should terrify me in my vulnerable state.
But he won’t hurt me.
I know he won’t. It’s a clear certainty that leaves no room for anything else.
Even when his hand — bigger than my entire body from tip to heel — tucks beneath me like a chair, I don’t resist. I stay in his palm, legs straddling his heel. I’m pulled forward into the shadows, swarmed by the obscurity. Lost in the scent of cloves and smoke.
“Stay,” he breathes, the single phrase hot, washing along my thighs, up my core.
“I can’t...”
I break off with the first sweep of something warm and slick brushing my center. It nudges through my folds, dances over my clit.
Over my head, my fingers tighten into the vines holding my wrists. I squeeze, anchoring myself for the first nudge at my opening.
I try to shift my hips, rolling them forward to give him better access, but the way he has me splayed, where I need him is flat against his heel.
He seems to realize it too.
His solution is tucking his thumbs under each of my knees, settling me on the crack of both palms. His fingers cushion my back, reclining me.
His efficiency makes me chuckle. “Do this often?”
His low, guttural huff burns across my wet folds. It’s the sound of a beast caught on the scent of blood.
“You are my human. My only human. There will never be another.”
Even while I’m warmed by the assurance, it’s short lived when he tears me in two. When the full width and girth of his tongue — an impossible size to take outside a dream — conquers my unprepared orifice.
I howl with the pain and the impromptu betrayal of my body as he forces me to orgasm. As the attack cripples me in his clutches and I’m made to take it.
He snarls with animalistic pleasure as my walls seize and rush. As I release a flood of liquid heat over his face. His hold tightens, restraining what little movement I have.
I’m entirely at his mercy when he frees his tongue, sweeps it up and over the mess I made and snarls, “Again.”
I start to shake my head, try to find words to tell him I can’t, but he’s taking me, hard and vicious. Filling my pussy with greedy strokes of a monster devouring his prey.
And I sob as I cum for him. Again and again. As my body conforms to his command, his need to make me squirt for him.
“When you return, I will milk you like this every morning like I used to. You will feed me again until I’m sated.”
I’m too limp to move. Too fuzzy to comprehend when he releases me to the air. I think it’s over as I dangle several feet off the ground, pussy tender and dripping.
But the hand that takes my waist is smaller. Not human size. They still extend around me like he’s holding a doll and I realize he’s shrunk down. Not by much but I’m bound and open and at the perfect level to the cock he’s holding in his other hand.
It’s not the same size it had been when I had him in my mouth. He’s nearly double the size and I was already using two hands.
“Please ... you’re too big,” I whimper.
“But my sleeve was made for this.”
I’m the sleeve, I realize, horrified as I watch the flat head find my used hole. It pushes in with a grunt from him and a whimper from me.
“Oh, please ... please, no. It’s too much. Too ... oh God!”
He ignores me and I don’t blame him when I’m pleading and cumming the deeper he pushes. How can he believe me when I’m gushing and thrashing, toes curling in ecstasy? I don’t even believe me.
“My little sleeve is making such a mess,” he taunts. “Such a tiny hole opens so big for me. Shh,” he whispers when I weep. “You will take my knot.”
No amount of bracing prepares me for the catch. The bulge at the base.
“I can’t,” I cry.
“My queen will claim her throne. When you sit, you will only sit here with your legs wide for the world to see where you belong.”
My head falls back with the first rush of pressure. My jaw clenches, biting back my scream.
“Dirty sleeve.” He chuckles when I climax.
My body no longer recognizes the difference between pain and pleasure and craves both.
Panting, I open my eyes and stare down at the bump half inside me.
It doesn’t go unnoticed how gentle he’s being. I know he could have forced himself in and fucked me, and I would have cum on his cock because there is nothing I want more than to feel him ruining my pussy, but he’s taking his time. Letting me enjoy every orgasm.
“Fill me,” I blurt. “Take me like I deserve.”
I think I see a flare of red through the swirling shadows, but it doesn’t matter when his claws close around my thighs. Right around like he’s holding the handles on a bicycle, and he pulls me down.
Violent.
My scream is drowned by his roar. By his madness as he forces me over him again and again. Harder. Harder.
My wails fuel him. My spasming and squirting pussy is his reward.
“Mine!” he rages. “I will have you. I will mark you. I will fill your cunt with my babies, and you will be my queen. My whore. My sleeve.”
Hot, wet jizz fills me. Fills my stomach to swelling. Still, he keeps rutting, snarling and huffing like a wild beast.
“More,” he grunts.
A vine finds my back entrance and joins his erratic bucking. The burn is nothing to the size of the invader as it thickens the deeper it plunges.
“Too much ... too much!”
My cries are silenced by the thick, red tongue that thrusts out of the shadows and down my throat. Silencing me as it tangles with mine.
Every hole is full.
Stuffed and used, and his. And he takes me faster. Demanding I cum for him without stopping. A forced loop of climaxes that overlaps the last one and I can’t even move. I’m immobilized as he torments me to madness.
All the while, he pumps his seed inside me. I lost count and none of it is coming out. It’s building inside me, hot and perfect.
It’s unclear how long he used me. How long I let him and loved it. But even when he finally slows, even when the vines unfurl and collapse in his palms, his cock stays wedged in place. It’s there when he carries me to the bed of leaves and pulls me down with him.
“Shh,” he soothes when I whimper. “Have to wait. Once I unlock, you will get on my tongue and let me clean what you let me do to your cunt. The mess you let me make in your tight, human hole.”
I hate myself when my body responds by lifting and grinding, by using him to cum like I haven’t already a hundred times.
His laugh is a taunt above me as he pumps his hips, driving himself deeper. Matching my desperate attempts.
“Such a sweet, greedy whore. Does my sleeve want more?”
My heels dig into dirt, and I push myself down on him. I ride him. I take what I want while staring up into the shadows.
“Show me your face,” I pant, rubbing harder. “I want to see you.”
See the man whose dick has ruined me.
“Let me in first.”
I shake my head. “Face.”
His tongue unfurls and flicks my nipple.
“Only my queen can see my face. The one who lets me in.”
Without thinking, I reach into the shadows and close my fingers into his antlers. I hold them as we move. As we fuck and rut in the dirt. I hold them tighter when I cum and he fists my throat. He cuts my air as I’m shuddering, my head already buzzing.
“That’s it,” he groans as I thrash and squeeze. “Milk me. Keep my knot in your cunt longer.”
Truth is, I don’t think I want him to ever come out.