11. Chapter Eleven Rhowyn
Chapter Eleven: Rhowyn
I had walked away from Callum, leaving him with his thoughts, not wanting to push him any further than I had already. He'd bared a piece of himself to me, and I was hopeful he would start to let his walls down soon. I could see the pain in his eyes when he had spoken about Lennox, but I couldn't reconcile the man I knew with what Callum was saying.
Sure, Lennox was an asshole. We all knew that. But to betray his best friend? I wasn't so sure it was that simple. Although Callum had implied that it might have been unintentional. I needed to find a way to get them to talk their issues out.
Their pain at whatever had happened was eating them both alive, and it was breaking my heart. Despite Callum's gruff demeanor, I felt connected to him in ways that didn't include the bond. I knew without having to hear the story that we were kindred spirits, having both faced atrocities in our lives that we shouldn't have had to.
As I got to know Lennox more, as he slowly let his walls down, I was realizing that he was truly a sensitive soul who hid behind his playboy, asshole mask. It was all a ploy to keep everyone away from him.
Both of them were so damaged, and while I wanted to help them, I knew from experience that they needed to want to help themselves first. They had to want to resolve whatever was between them. I could lead a horse to water, but I couldn't make it drink.
I smiled at that, remembering how stubborn I had been when my coach had found me scared and alone. I hadn't wanted to trust anyone or get too close, too afraid of having to leave them behind. I had been a total bitch, but he'd stuck by me, steadfast but stern in his training, somehow finding a way to pull me from the streets and giving me back my self-esteem.
As I walked, lost in my thoughts, I went to take another step only to find my boot stuck in some kind of mud. It looked like sand, but sand didn’t cling to your shoes like this. In Texas, we were known for our red clay dirt. Whenever it got wet, it could hold onto your shoes like superglue, often leaving anyone who walked through it without their boots. My brain struggled to reconcile the difference between what I was seeing and what I was feeling, the two so at odds that it left me further off balance.
Pulling harder against the mud, my tired thighs screamed at me and shook so much I feared I’d collapse fully into the muck. I tried to keep my balance, with no luck. If anything, it felt like I was becoming more stuck. I glanced around the area, trying to find out what exactly I had stumbled into. The ground looked no different than the surrounding path, the same path I had traversed easily before. There was no obvious reason why I shouldn't be able to pick my foot up.
I tried to lift my other foot, realizing that both feet were sunken into the ground up to the tops of my soles. As I watched and struggled, pulling alternately on my legs to lift them, I could see my feet slowly sinking further into whatever had its hold on me. Starting to panic, I barked out a short scream as I pulled more violently. The more I struggled, the quicker I sank into the ground, my breaths heaving as my mind raced.
I had heard about quicksand on Earth, but this didn't look like anything I'd heard about. Even the bog in The Never-Ending Story had been different. However, they both acted the same. The more someone struggled, the quicker they sank until they were swallowed alive.
“Callum!” I called out as my panic took over. I tried to breathe slowly, to stop my panic, but I couldn't hear anything over my racing heart and heaving breaths. Fuck, fuck, fuck . I chanted in my head uncontrollably.
“Rhowyn!” I heard him yell at me, barely catching his words from behind me. “I'm here. Just stay calm and still.”
“Easier said than done. You're not the one stuck in this crap!” I snapped at him.
“Calm down!” he snapped back as something was launched over my shoulder; a rock landed on the firm ground a few feet in front of me.
Hah! Apparently, he'd never learned to never tell a woman to calm down. That was surely the quickest way to piss any woman off. “Yeah right! You try staying calm as you slowly sink into the ground. I bet you can't do it either. And don't tell me to calm down again! I'll throw Lennox's knife at you, and I won't be sorry,” I threatened him while also praying he’d get me out of this.
Surprisingly, my anger was slowly easing my panic, my mind able to think a little more clearly now despite being up to my knees already. He laughed in response to my threat, obviously not worried about me hurting him, but he didn't tell me to calm down again. I guess he could be smart from time to time.
A large blob launched over my shoulder this time, landing close to the spot where the rock now rested. My eyes focused on the figure to see Callum straightening up before me. He had jumped across the quicksand or whatever it was called here in Avalon.
His eyes met mine, which were still wide with panic as I tried to remain as still as possible, resisting every urge within me that screamed to move. “Good. You're doing good, Trouble.”
His nickname for me caught me off guard, and I stilled, narrowing my eyes, unsure if I liked it or not. “Trouble?”
“Seems like you always find it. It’s like an inherent knack. One I believe is also unmatched,” he answered as he glanced around us, looking for a way to get me out of this mess.
“I do not.” I tried to deny it, but I knew he was right. It seemed I was a magnet for this sort of stuff, whether I wanted to be or not.
His eyes narrowed on mine before slowly glancing down my body and lingering on my hip. “Now is not the time to be checking me out!” I snapped at him, my panic starting to return.
He barked out a laugh, louder than any I'd ever heard from him as his eyes landed back on mine. “I wasn't admiring your figure.”
“Sure looked that way to me.” I crossed my arms over my chest defensively.
“I was looking for the rope you brought with you,” he replied smugly, one eyebrow raised, and his mouth quirked up to one side.
My mouth gaped open. Rhowyn, you're so fucking stupid! I chastised myself internally. I would have slapped my forehead with my hand if I'd been alone, however, I wanted to maintain whatever dignity I had left. It seemed like the whole intention of these trials was to strip me of all of my pride. Well, it was definitely succeeding in that.
My body finally caught up to my brain as I uncrossed my arms and grabbed for the rope that was looped at my hip, my fingers slipping frequently and slowing the process. My body was now stuck up to my hips, and I needed to undo the rope before it too was stuck in the mud, unable to be freed.
While I was busy with the rope, I saw Callum’s hands moving before the scene beneath me changed, revealing a quicksand pit. “It was covered by a glamor. I’d have felt it if I had been first.” Now, I regretted giving him his space. If nothing else, I should have continued to let him lead the way instead of charging heedlessly ahead.
Finally, after what felt like forever, I had the rope coiled in my shaking hands. I tossed one end to Callum, who caught it effortlessly. He wrapped his end around his waist, securing it behind him before grabbing the end leading toward me with both hands.
He leaned back into the rope, sitting on the tension in the line and used his full body weight to pull. I held to my end as tightly as I could, wrapping it around my palms to keep it from slipping. Slowly, I felt my body being suctioned out of the mud, the pressure that had been pressing down on my lower half relieved in minute degrees. My fingers and hands burned as the rope squeezed painfully before slipping from my fingers, leaving my hands raw and burned and causing Callum to fall on his ass.
Of course, as inappropriate as it was, I laughed loudly at the sight of Callum sprawled out on the ground without warning. My nerves about the situation were getting the best of me. “I'm so glad you think this is funny,” he groused as he stood, dusting off his fine ass.
Yes, I noticed his ass. If I was going to die, I'd like to have a nice view before I left this plane of existence. And what a stunning view it was, plump and round, firm enough to bounce a quarter off it, flexing as he moved. What I wouldn’t give to bite down on that thick piece of meat, my mouth salivating at the thought .
He threw the rope at me this time. “Here. Catch.” As it landed between my raw hands, he told me, “Now tie it around you this time. There's no way you can hold the rope while I pull.”
I did as he instructed, looping the rope around my waist for the second time that day. God, had it only been a day? It felt like we'd been stuck in this damn maze for a week.
Once I had it knotted in place, he continued, “Now, lean forward and try to lay as flat to the ground as possible. This will help distribute your weight and hopefully slow down the sinking process.”
“Hopefully?” I questioned him while doing as he said.
“Do you have any better ideas?” he snarked back at me.
Nope. I did not . My newfound magic was unable to help me in this situation. I sent up a prayer to whatever God would listen, not ready to die yet as I watched Callum strain against the pull of the ground, his biceps flexing with each tug. His muscles danced under his pale skin at the effort he was exerting, his face scrunched in concentration.
He surely was a beautiful man, all muscles and alpha male attitude. Helping me even though I aggravated him to no end because he was a good man beneath the gruff exterior. My study of the man before me, who was currently doing everything in his power to pull me from the mess I'd found myself in, calmed my mind. I knew he wouldn't rest until he'd done everything he could. Somehow, that was enough for me.
My muscles slowly relaxed as I felt my body slide, oh so slowly, across the ground in front of me. For some reason, my torso and hands weren't sticking like my feet had. His idea of distributing my weight was working, keeping any part of me from sinking at the point of contact. I struggled to keep any part of me from bending too much and creating a focal point that the dirt could suction down on, starting the process all over again .
I knew I was without a doubt getting dirt all over me and in places that would need to be washed thoroughly upon our return to the Castle. The sand slipped inside every seam and opening, clinging to my sweat laden body and chafing me. I'd rather be dirty and alive than dead and pristine.
As I slid slowly closer to him, he grunted out with the effort, and I couldn't help but wonder if he made the same noises when fucking someone. The mystery caused me to think about fucking him and what it would be like. I wanted those strong hands all over my body, taking control as his thick arms threw me around until I was right where he wanted me.
I was certain he’d be as intense in bed as he was with everything else. I could imagine his deep voice making demands of me while he spoke dirty words in my ear, thrusting into me from behind. How he would hold me by my throat as I struggled against him, not allowing me to control the situation in any way, and only giving me what I needed once I had fully submitted to him.
With a final grunt and pull on the rope, which bit into my hips painfully, I was able to reach solid ground with my hands, close enough for him to grab me. I knew for certain I would have bruises all over my hips by the end of the day, I just wished they were for other reasons instead.
His rough hands wrapped around mine, the rope having burned his hands, too, as he'd struggled to pull me from the ground's grasp. He pulled, the dirt and sweat making our palms slippery, but he managed to keep me in his grip.
As I grew closer to the edge of the quicksand at a faster rate than when he'd been pulling on the rope, he backed up. The quicksand was now only clinging to my feet, and I tried not to sob in relief. We were so close to getting me out.
He kept pulling, not releasing the pressure, my arms screaming in protest at being tugged in two directions. Wasn't this a form of medieval torture? I think they called it the rack. Yup. That's what this felt like.
My brain was scrambled from the exhaustion, panic, fear, anger, and whatever else this day had put me through. I'd had bad days before, but this one was certainly at the top of the list of worst days ever.
He let up just a little, relaxing briefly before he gave one final hard tug, snapping the tension on my body and freeing me from the ground. The sudden release of pressure from one end caused me to be pulled into him as he fell under me. The momentum resulted in me landing on his lap, my head near his navel.
We both laid there for a moment, panting from the exertion and with relief. I was free. Filthy, but out of that mess. Not able to move yet, my muscles nothing but jelly, I tilted my head to look at myself. Anything to distract from my current position and the things that my body wanted to do to Callum.
The heat had caused me to sweat while underground, resulting in the dirt turning to mud, caked onto my skin and clothes in a thick layer. Great. This day just kept getting better and better.
A rumble under my body had me springing to my hands and knees, fear that the walls were shifting again piercing my fatigue. Except it wasn't the walls that were causing the vibration. It was Callum. He finally barked out a laugh after inhaling deeply. On my hands and knees, I crawled up his body to peer into his face. Yup. I had driven him crazy. He was mad, having lost it after one too many run-ins with me.
His laughter died down slowly as he opened his eyes to find me hovering over his body, my legs straddling him without touching his narrow hips, the flames he claimed to control dancing in his eyes. I hadn't realized the position I had put myself in, too concerned about his mental state and too tired to stand .
Now that I realized our positions, I felt my body heat up with desire, echoing the hunger I could feel emanating from him. I didn't dare move, hardly daring to breathe as he stared at me. His hands landed on my hips and squeezed me roughly, just over the bruises from the rope. The pain sent a burst of pleasure to my core, and I inhaled sharply.
His nostrils flared, and though I didn't think it possible, his eyes became consumed by the flames. I knew he smelled my arousal, and the knowledge that he could only excited me more.
I held my breath, afraid to move, not wanting to ruin this moment between us. He didn't seem to have the same qualms as he spoke, his voice deeper and full of gravel. “Without a doubt, you are nothing but trouble.”
The way he said it, with both frustration and desire, left me speechless. I licked my lips, their sudden dryness most likely the result of my wet pussy and not the fact that I hadn’t had anything to drink since facing the dragon. I focused on his mouth, praying he would kiss me, still not able to move. His eyes held me captive in their burning gaze.
His hands clenched, squeezing me painfully before he groaned and slammed his lips to mine, finally giving in to the desire we were both feeling. He crushed his mouth to mine briefly before caressing my lips with his tongue, begging me to open for him.
I did. Without an ounce of hesitation, I gave him whatever he demanded. This moment was everything I knew it would be and more. I let myself get lost in him, in the way his tongue tangled with mine, trying to dominate me through his kiss alone.
Never one to simply go along, I challenged him, biting his lip hard. He groaned at the abuse and flipped us over, his body now hovering over mine. It was way too easy for him to do that, his constrained strength turning me on even more. To know how dangerous he was and could be, and yet, he was holding himself back, afraid to hurt me.
I ran my hands along his back over the light fabric of his tunic, feeling small bumps under the fabric, his scars. My hands continued their perusal until I was holding onto his biceps, squeezing them as he ground his cock into my clit, hitting the nub with each thrust. I moaned loudly at the contact, arching my back, needing to feel more of him against me.
He pulled away briefly to stare down at me, his hips still grinding into me, the thin leather separating us a flimsy barrier. He leaned down to run his nose along my neck until his mouth was next to my ear. “What are you doing to me?”
I moaned again, the knowledge that he was just as consumed as I was almost overwhelming me. It felt like I was barely holding onto the tether that kept me on land, my body ready to fly into the stars with just a few more touches.
He groaned again, kissing my cheekbone just under my eyes, my jaw, my neck as he leaned his weight onto one arm so his other could roam my body. His roughened palms skimmed along the edge of my shirt, dipping underneath before resuming their path upward toward my breasts.
I was panting now, arching and writhing into his kiss, his touch, silently begging him for more. He thrust his hips against mine again and ground them in a circle, the pressure centered over my clit, bringing me to orgasm. I cried out, louder than I had intended as the tether snapped.
My eyes rolled back in my head as his movements slowed, his eyes watching me as I came, taking in every detail of my orgasm. Fuck! I could get used to that, although I wanted more.
Slowly, I came back down to earth, my eyes opening to find him still watching me. “What am I going to do with you, Trouble? ”
I opened my mouth to answer, but a loud voice called out. “Am I interrupting?” I jerked, having completely forgotten we were still in the trials and being watched.