Chapter 27 Envy
Envy
Even when the kiss is over, he’s a greedy motherfucker. His appetite has a mind of its own, brushing Sorrow’s lips, tracing her skin, laying claim. Indeed, Envy has a possessive mouth, and she has a delectable one, plush and glistening.
Fuck. That’s not the only thing that has increased in size since this uproar began.
Growing as hard as a spear, Envy shifts his cock out of range. Any more friction will impair his libido, with no chance of recovery.
Wet strings of hair plaster to Sorrow’s cheeks. She clings to the back of his neck, her forehead dropping against his, their chests pumping for air. His eyes sweep over the goddess while she focuses on his sternum, as if searching for his pulse.
Condemnation. Such an asinine sentiment to cross his mind. Though frankly, he’s too drunk on this female to care.
Sorrow tightens her grip, demanding more of him. She hugs Envy with her entire frame, burying her face into his throat, where his Adam’s apple bobs.
He’s lost, speechless. And not fucking done with her.
Uttering a gritty noise, Envy twists his head and seizes her lips again, swiping her tongue with his.
Sorrow gasps into his mouth, the pleasured sound floating off her lips, the deathblow that seals his fate.
Naked and clinging, they charge at each other for the second time, the relentless strokes of their tongues bordering on desperation.
If this is a buffer to avoid speaking, Envy doesn’t give two celestial shits. Not with her succulent tits gliding over his flesh.
The kiss combusts. Her lips yield under his, and his mouth tugs hard, needing her attention, craving it.
On a groan, Sorrow peels her mouth away, despite Envy’s famished groan.
Standing upright in the middle of a lagoon, they collapse into one another.
The water shivers, and constellations swirl, pinwheeling like the backdrop to an immortal acid trip.
Indeed, he won’t deny the psychedelic effect this female has on him.
This has to be an alternate reality. The universe is playing a cruel trick on Envy.
That’s the only explanation for why Sorrow hasn’t attempted to leave.
Stars eternal, she’s still clinging to him, holding fast while he grasps the curves of her ass.
The contact rubs his cock against her sweet, warm cunt, shivers dancing up her skin.
Plastered against him, she whispers, “Why did you kiss me?”
Envy tenses, every scintillating response in the universe vanishing before he can choose one. All that comes out is, “Because.”
Because I’m falling.
The unspoken confession crushes his torso to the point of pain. But if that’s true, he’s going to fuck this up, because he doesn’t know how to fall, much less how to break the landing. He’ll plummet, crash to the ground, and break his sculpted jaw.
And he’ll take her with him.
If that happens, he’ll lose her.
He’ll lose this goddess like he has a thousand times, only now it’ll hurt her too. Fuck what this will do to Envy’s soul. The thought of harming Sorrow is non-negotiable.
Let no one touch her. Least of all him.
Fear knots around his vocal cords, but he snaps the tether in half. He won’t let himself go there.
Mine.
As the word infuses his blood with a new sort of power, Envy rasps against the crinkled space between her eyebrows, “Why did you kiss me back?”
“Because,” she answers.
Exhausted humor animates her words, forcing a gravely chuckle from Envy. Fair enough, he senses a different reply lingering between them. A truer answer.
But for now, Envy has other plans. In less than five minutes, the force of his thrusts will be jolting her body across his bed. And that’s if he goes easy on her.
Based on those silver irises, she craves him just as much. Her gaze slackens, dizzy with need.
“I want you inside me, Envy,” she rushes out. “I want that so badly it hurts.”
“That sounds like pain,” he hisses, his voice a rough-spun baritone. “If so, come to my hollow. Shove me onto the bed and do whatever you want to me. Fuck my cock with your sharp hips and wet little cunt.”
“That sounds like pleasure,” she whispers.
“As I recall, we had an agreement.”
“We didn’t bargain for this.”
“Then we’re excused.”
This time, they’ll do it right. At least until eventide, when they have to depart and resume this quest.
Banding his arms around her waist, Envy backs Sorrow across the water. She nibbles the bridge of his shoulders while his teeth snatch her earlobe, sucking the tender flesh into his mouth until she’s whining. They stumble out of the lagoon, pawing at one another on their way across the footpath.
“You’re smooth as glass,” she utters.
“You’re as slippery as ice,” he croons.
Then Envy freezes. The mention of their lost archery, the elements of their bows, carves through him like a stray bullet. Remorse stamps out the heat, replacing it with unworthiness.
He doesn’t deserve any of this. Because he’d swiped her arrow all those years ago, Envy has involuntarily fucked up any chance of enacting the legend. Stealing the ice weapon, taking the archery of another deity, has eradicated this possibility.
Fuck him to death. He’d been too inebriated, too besotted, and too damn entranced by Sorrow to think straight.
None of this is real. It can’t be unless he speaks up.
Whether or not she forgives him, Sorrow has a right to know, to reunite with her weapon.
That’s more important however it affects Envy, whether he’ll lose her.
Self-loathing chews on his flesh. It’s not the first time he’s felt this with Sorrow. But it’s the first time his mouth takes the lead.
“Wait,” Envy stresses, framing Sorrow’s hips. “I have to tell you something.” Pushing through the fear and self-disgust, he licks his lips. “I should have done this a long time ago. Sorrow, I took—”
Her baffled squint falters, clarity flashing in her irises. She seizes his arm, going rigid so swiftly that Envy loses his footing. For a moment, her haunted expression takes priority. Something troubles her.
Staring into the distance, realization claims her features like a net. “They have our weapons.”
Envy blinks. “Weapons?”
Sorrow nods, angry creases slashing across her face. “Those fuckers have our weapons.”
Understanding dawns. Mentioning their archery has led Sorrow to a viable conclusion about the gang of deities who chased them into the rapids. Everyone except Sorrow, Envy, and Love had managed to store their defenses in the boat’s lower compartment, seconds before the rapids devoured the vessel.
Sorrow and her archery went overboard, and Envy dove in after her, abandoning his weapons to the torrent’s mercy. Also, it’s possible that Love lost her longbow and quiver sometime after being separated from Envy and Sorrow.
The maelstrom of water should have swallowed their archery. So how…?
Sorrow replays aloud their swim through the Astral Sea, the words she heard those two Dark Gods speak while stationed on the pier.
I’ve always wanted to know what wielding iron is like.
Iron weaponry. If the confiscated weapons had been forged of that element, they might belong to Anger instead of Love, though it’s less plausible since Anger had secured his bow and quiver inside the boat.
So no, it has to be Love’s archery. Either the enemy pursued those arms while swimming after them, or Love’s weapons washed up ashore, only to be hijacked.
The detritus could have floated into the wrong hands.
If so, there’s a chance Envy and Sorrow’s archery might be in that group’s possession as well.
Resolution eclipses relief. It also kills the sex high.
Envy pinches the bridge of his nose. “We were going to make the trek weaponless anyway. We’ll figure out the rest later.”
“We’ll figure out the rest now,” Sorrow snaps.
“Will we?” His hand drops. “Good luck with that, hon.”
“Are you not hearing me, Envy?” She pushes herself away from him, flinging her arms to the sides so that her breasts bounce. “They. Have. Our. Weapons.”
He glowers, reading her mind. “Sorrow—”
“I can handle ten deities at once,” she states, raising her eyebrows and waiting.
Christ. First, his aching cock gets put through the wringer. Now, his prowess is being called into question. This female will be the end of him.
Envy shakes his head, because he fucking knew it. “Without my longbow, I can’t take more than twelve.”
“Fine. So we’ll—”
“No, we won’t.”
“Goddammit, Envy!”
Her eyes lance through him. Really? They’re going to stand here in their birthday suits, cock-blocked by destiny, fighting about certain doom and even more certain death?
“It’s two versus two thousand,” he argues.
“Yep,” she says, propping her fists on her hips.
“And we’re unarmed.”
“Yep.”
“And it’s the opposite direction from where we need to go.”
“Yep again.”
“And they’ll be looking out for us.”
She grabs his face, pleading, “Yes. They will.”
That’s all. And she’s right. Their allies can provide them with temporary archery, but it’s not the same without their kindred weapons. To that end, this battle won’t be the same for any of them. They might lose before they’ve begun.
Moreover, they already trespassed in the Astral Sea once. So what’s the difference between then and now?
Envy shakes his head again. Fine, so the logistics and uneven odds aren’t the real problem. “Call me paranoid—”
“That’s Fear’s job,” the goddess snips. “Give it to me straight.”
“You want straight, honey? You can take down an army with a single glower, and there’s nothing sexier than seeing you nock a deadly weapon.
Well, other than watching you come on my cock.
That said, I’m not about to let you risk your savory ass like a lamb to the slaughter.
I happen to like your ass in one piece, and skinning alive anybody who touches you will require clothing that can get stained.
Overalls or smocks, for example. Neither of which I possess in my wardrobe. ”
“Envy!”
“Sorrow?”
She throws a fit, thrashing against him while he struggles to hold her. Eventually, she loses steam and deflates in resignation. Kissing her forehead, Envy promises it will be all right. They’ll find another way.
He can’t blame her for the dagger eyes. Since fucking each other is no longer on the agenda, Envy makes a sly innuendo. Honestly, he’s not sure what the comment is once it’s out, but it gets her to snort with a grudge.
And fuck. His confession will have to wait until they’ve slept. Otherwise, the anxiety and stress will tangle everything up, and it’ll come out wrong. She needs her rest, first. The second they’ve awakened, Envy will tell her.
They dry each other off with the towels he brought. Though, Envy might embellish by moving with a tad more swagger, if only to bring levity to the situation, now that his dick has gone flaccid, replaced by antsiness to tell her everything.
Earlier, he’d collected their clothes and brought them outside with the towels, so they dress each other next.
Sorrow pulls a V-neck shirt over Envy’s head, tucking it into his slacks.
Then he slips that long, layered skirt up her limbs, drapes her in that customary vest, and fastens the clasps as if he’s got all day.
There’s something ceremonial about this. He would call it intimate and far out of his league.
It’s one thing to disrobe a female with aplomb. It’s another to cover her up.
The motions calm them down. In spite of the argument, the dust settles as quickly as it had escalated, and she relaxes when he purrs appreciatively into her neck.
After folding Sorrow’s discarded robe, Envy sets it atop an outcropping, then takes her hand. They gravitate to the cavern’s threshold and sit at the edge of the world. He settles behind Sorrow, flanking her with his limbs and encircling her midriff.
She’s brooding again, her silence posing a question. Since when has he ever aborted a dangerous plan?
Resting his chin on her shoulder, Envy inquires, “So how many smiles do you have?”
Sorrow holds back, then sputters with mirth. “You piss me off.”
“You do much more to me,” he murmurs.
They haven’t slumbered enough, having woken up too early and then overextending themselves with that kiss.
Fuck almighty. Their first kiss.
Grinning, Envy tucks Sorrow into him and dozes off. Too bad that grin drops like a stone when he wakes up and finds her gone.
Wrath detonates across his tongue. “Fucking Sorrow!”
With a growl, Envy surges to his feet. As he slams into the cavern and cinches his mane into a low ponytail, he considers not only which passage to take, but how tightly he’ll strangle that insubordinate goddess when he locates her.
Like an imbecile, the facts only occur to him now. She had given in too easily to his request, melted too quickly from his touch. If Envy hadn’t been intoxicated by the effects, he would have realized how uncharacteristic that had seemed.
He's the most gullible fuckwit in history. Of course, the goddess snuck off to be the hero. Because she’s reckless and brave and stubborn and magnificent. And because he told her, no.
Also, because he’d shown her the fucking way.