Chapter Four
Lilith
It’s been hard for me to concentrate on anything since meeting Theron last night. Actually, “hard” is an understatement. It’s been fucking impossible.
I’m sitting at my desk, staring at my laptop screen, where a half-finished email to our manufacturer has been blinking at me for the past twenty minutes. I’ve read the same sentence four times and still can’t process what it says.
The words blur together. All I can see is Theron’s face. Those fathomless dark eyes. The way his tentacles felt wrapped around my thighs, warm and real and alive.
I close the laptop with more force than necessary.
The apartment feels wrong today. Too bright.
Too quiet. The ocean outside my window looks flat and lifeless, even though the waves are rolling in just as they always do.
Everything feels muted, like I’m experiencing the world through a thick pane of glass.
I’ve tried to work. God, have I tried. This morning, I attempted to respond to customer emails and nearly sent a wholesale pricing sheet to someone asking about shipping times.
Then I started drafting a new design—a dragon hybrid toy with ridged scales—but my hand kept sketching tentacles instead.
Tentacles with suckers in exactly the pattern I felt against my skin last night.
I deleted the file and started over. Same thing happened. After the third attempt, I gave up. Now it’s almost evening, and I’ve accomplished exactly nothing except confirming that I can’t stop thinking about Theron.
I need to do something. Anything. I’ve contemplated returning to The Undertow, but there’s a tiny part of me still unsure if any of it was even real. And if it was, then what does that mean for me? For my future?
But then I recall the way Theron looked at me. It wasn’t just interest. He didn’t look at me like I was a human stranger or someone he wanted to sleep with. He looked at me like I was the missing piece of him he’d finally found.
He said he felt my designs—that he felt me. If he can sense the passion I put into my work, I want to give him something even better to look at tonight.
I strip off my tank top, throw it on the bed, and step out of my shorts.
My mirror leans against the wall, giving me a full view of my body.
I turn a few times, admiring myself. I’m no supermodel.
Far from it. I’ve got curves, and my stomach isn’t flat, but I don’t mind my soft sides.
I embrace them. I love them because they’re me. Every inch and every curve.
I untie my hair and watch myself as my purple-colored locks fall over my shoulders. I’m wearing a matching set of underwear today. It makes me feel sexy, and when I feel sexy, I come up with better designs. You could say it’s purely a business decision, but deep down, even I know that’s not true.
I reach behind my back and unclasp my bra without looking away from my reflection in the mirror.
I watch as my breasts fall free, plump and soft.
I cup them in my hands, squeezing, stroking, letting the sensation ground me in the moment.
This right here, right now, is all that matters.
No deadlines, no being misunderstood, no holding back. Just me and my body and my desires.
And maybe Theron, sensing me.
I turn to the window and imagine the ancient creature with knowing eyes and lots of limbs watching me. Rising from the depths of the ocean to claim me. To devour and worship me.
My breath catches. The fantasy makes me so wet that I can feel the heat pooling in my panties.
I hook my thumbs over the seam of my underwear and slowly pull the fabric down.
I kick my panties off with my foot and turn back to the mirror.
The moon reflects off the curve of my ass, and I follow it with my hands, imagining it’s Theron doing it to me.
Spreading my feet further apart, I catch sight of my glistening pussy in the mirror.
I drag my hand over the bare, soft labia, over my swollen clit, all the way to the patch of hair on my pubic bone.
An image of Theron’s tentacle caressing my leg flashes before me. I imagine he takes it further and strokes my wet pussy. I close my eyes and try to calm my breathing, but it’s no use. I’m horny as hell now and need to act on this fantasy before it drives me completely insane.
I grab my biggest Kraken toy and move to a spot in front of the window.
I’m high enough up that no one can see me here.
Not that there are a lot of people walking on the beach at this time of night, but there are always a couple of restless souls strolling there in the dark.
But since the lights are off inside my apartment, I doubt anyone can see me.
I use the suction cup at the bottom to steady the toy on the floor and slick everything up with lube.
It’s more than I probably need, considering how dripping wet I already am, but it’s a huge toy, and I want the slide to be easy.
I spread my thighs and position the tapered tip of the dildo at my entrance.
I pause, staring down at it. Even after testing it before, I can’t quite believe it fits. The girth is obscene, and the length is intimidating. This isn’t something a human body should be able to take. But I want it anyway.
I lower myself slowly, and the first press makes me gasp. My body resists, clenching against the intrusion. I have to force myself to breathe, to relax, to let it happen.
Too big, my brain screams. It’s way too big.
But I don’t stop. I bear down, working the tip inside, and my thighs tremble. The stretch is immediate and intense. The textured suckers drag against the walls of my pussy as I take it inch by impossible inch. My pussy struggles to accommodate the width, the ridges, and the relentless thickness.
I whimper, my hands bracing on my thighs as I sink lower. It feels like I’m going to split apart. Like my body can’t possibly open enough for this. But it does.
Slowly, agonizingly, I work it deeper. The stretch burns in the best way and offers me a fullness so complete that it steals my breath away. The suckers catch and tug with every tiny movement, and by the time I’ve taken half of it, I’m shaking all over.
“God,” I whisper to the empty room.
I pause, panting, giving myself time to adjust. The kraken dildo is buried inside me, stretching me open until I feel like I’m about to snap. It’s so thick. Way thicker than any human man could ever be. Thicker than should be possible. And I love it so, so much.
I close my eyes and let my fantasy build.
The creature from my imagination is massive and gorgeous.
And his face is Theron’s. His tentacles are everywhere.
Wrapping around my thighs urgently so he can spread me even wider, curling around my wrists to hold me down.
In my fantasy, he’s got one thick appendage that pushes deep inside me while the others explore every inch of my skin, the suckers latching onto my nipples, my throat, my thighs, my clit.
I start to move. Slowly at first, lifting and sinking, adjusting to the impossible fullness.
The suckers catch and release with each thrust, creating a rhythm that makes my toes curl.
My breath comes harder. I imagine Theron’s weight above me, his inhuman strength, the way he’d take me without hesitation because he knows I need it. Need him.
My free hand finds my clit, swollen and aching, and I rub tight circles around it. The dual sensation of the massive toy stretching me open and my fingers working my clit makes my head fall back.
I ride faster now. My other hand goes to my breast, pinching my nipple hard enough to make me gasp. I switch sides, squeezing and tugging, and my breasts bounce with each thrust. The wet sound of my pussy taking the toy fills the room, together with my ragged breathing and soft moans.
I don’t care anymore that the window’s open. Don’t care if someone hears. Let them. Let the whole fucking neighborhood know that I’m riding a monster dildo under the moonlight, desperate and shameless. I need this. Need to be filled, stretched, taken. Desired. Fucked. I need it all.
Most of all, I hope Theron is seeing this from behind the veil.
“Please,” I whisper to him, letting the toy hit deeper with each bounce.
My thighs burn, but I don’t stop. Can’t stop. Not until I come. My fingers work my clit faster, harder, and the pleasure coils tight in my core. Everything is fucking wet now, fucking swollen, and I’m so, so, so close to coming.
In my mind, Theron tightens his grip on me. His tentacles wrap around my wrists and my thighs, holding me exactly where he wants me. His thick appendage drives deeper inside me, and I feel the suckers all over my body, pulling and releasing in perfect rhythm.
I moan loudly and fuck the kraken dildo as deep as my body will bear.
I cry out again, loud and unrestrained, as my pussy clamps down on the toy.
Pleasure explodes through every nerve, white-hot and overwhelming.
My back arches, my thighs shake, and I grind down hard, taking every impossible inch as I come apart.
Wetness gushes from me as I squirt, soaking the toy and my thighs, but I don’t care.
This feels too good to care about anything.
And for a few perfect seconds, Theron is real.
He’s here. He’s mine. He’s making me come.
I stay still for a moment and let the aftershocks ripple through me. My body hums with satisfaction, but the orgasm still hasn’t chased away that familiar hollow ache in my chest. The ache that I now know is directed at Theron.
I slowly pull the soaked toy from my pussy and set it aside, then grab a towel from my nightstand to clean up. My body feels good, but my heart knows I need to go back to The Undertow.