Chapter 10 – Keto
KETO
Breakfast is strangely awkward. I’m back in one of their t-shirts. The two gargoyles are dressed too, but they both look ragged, as if they slept as badly as I did. There’s a tension between them that I don’t understand.
Not that I’m helping the situation. All I can think about is the kiss.
Even now I want to touch my lips to see if I’ve been permanently changed by Max’s touch.
Because it feels like I’m different. Like my body’s hotter, softer.
All I want to do is climb on top of him and see if he can make me feel that way again.
Even though I won’t.
Arthur clears his throat. “So, what’s the plan for today?”
At last, Max’s grey eyes lock onto mine, and I swear for half a second I see the same need I’m feeling burning in his gaze before it’s gone. “Where can we go to look for Keto?”
I tense. I have a plan. I just prey it isn’t a mistake. “There are some sirens not far from here. I think they might have answers. We can go together, but they’ll only speak to me.”
Max nods. “If you think they might be able to help us, then we’ll go to them.”
I smile.
“What?” Arthur asks.
I turn and see him staring at me. “I’m sorry?” I say, confused.
“Why are you smiling?”
I get flustered beneath his gaze. His eyes are the same stunning grey, except these ones are filled with mischief.
For a second I debate about lying, but I see no harm in the truth. “It isn’t often anyone listens to what I think.”
Arthur’s cheery air fades. “How old are you?”
I shrug. “Older than both of you. By a lot.”
He swears softly under his breath. “Far old enough to have someone who gives a crap enough to listen to you.”
His words make me uncomfortable. I finish the remainder of yesterday’s stew without meeting his gaze.
Max stands and takes my bowl. “How far are the sirens from us?”
“Less than a day.”
He nods and goes to wash out the bowls.
Arthur hurries around packing a couple bags, then hands one to Max when he returns.
“Do you need anything?” Max asks, not meeting my gaze.
I shake my head.
“Then let’s go.”
Max walks toward me, and I reach my hands up and wrap them around his neck. I jump a little to wrap my legs around his waist.
His eyes widen, and he stares at me. “This is how we’re flying?”
Arthur’s voice comes out strangely amused behind us. “What’s wrong, Max?”
Max’s entire face tightens. “Nothing, let’s go.”
Within seconds, he shifts. His skin turns the stunning color of wet stone and wings sprout on his back. His skin hardens beneath my touch, but not as much as I’d have expected. He still feels… strangely human.
“You’re not as hard as yesterday.”
His cheeks turn red. “What?”
I run my hands along his shoulder. “Your skin is softer.”
“Oh,” he says, and I hear Arthur laughing behind us. “I’m not in battle form.”
“Battle form?”
He nods. “Gargoyles can shift into differently levels of stone. This is just enough to take my gargoyle form. In full battle mode, I’m as hard as stone.”
That makes sense. I tighten my legs around him. “Okay, then let’s go.”
He swears softly, starts to flap his wings, and we shoot up into the sky. Arthur follows behind us.
“Which way?” Max asks.
I point.
Both men start forward, but Arthur quickly overtakes us.
“Show off,” Max mumbles.
I smile. These men… twins, certainly like to fight, but not like my brother and I. There’s love here, so deep I can sense it even when they argue.
Closing my eyes, I tilt my head back, surprised by how much I enjoy the wind blowing through my hair, and the feel of the sunlight on my skin. It feels like I’m in a dream, or in another person’s life, a person who has happiness.
“You like flying?” Max asks softly.
“I love it,” I say.
Shifting slightly, I feel a shudder move through his body. Suddenly, I’m very, very aware of the fact that he’s hard again, and I’m not talking about his skin.
But I’m more surprised by my own reaction. I felt overdressed wearing their shirt, but now I’m intimately aware of the fact that my lower half is completely bare and only his pants separate us. My heart races, and I feel my entire body heating up.
It’s hard to catch my breath. I close my eyes and rub gently against him.
I feel him tense beneath my fingertips, but I continue to rub myself against him, shocked by the waves of pleasure that come from the contact.
I’m practically grinding against him, but I don’t care, because it feels so damn good.
“Sirena,” he groans, his hands tightening on my waist. “What are you doing?”
“You’re hard,” I pant. “I want—“
I don’t know what I want. But I know it’s him. It’s this feeling. I don’t want it to stop.
“If you don’t stop…” His words are a warning that I don’t understand.
Instead, I start to bounce against him.
He swears, and I feel his entire body tense. His dick seems to swell against my wet core, and then I know he’s come. I feel the front of his pants grow wet with his seed.
And for some reason, I love the fact that I made him come.
Opening my eyes, I look at him. His expression is wild.
“You came,” I say.
His cheeks turn red. “Sorry, it’s been awhile since… actually, I’ve never had a woman ride me like this.”
“Did it feel good?” I ask.
His gaze locks onto mine, and he looks confused. “Of course, it felt… amazing.”
I smile, glad I could make him feel good.
And then I remember his hard cock the night before. I remember my hands running along him. And I want… that. I want to see him.
“Can I do something?”
He looks like he’s only half listening, but he nods.
Reaching down with one hand, I unbutton his pants and pull the zipper down.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his eyes going between us where my hand is working quickly.
I shove his boxers down and pull out his long cock, slick with his cum. Surprising even myself, I start to stroke him, and instantly, he hardens again.
“This is a bad idea, Sirena!”
I know it is, but I can’t help myself. I want to watch him come this time. I want to feel him swelling in my hand.
So, I stroke him, and he doesn’t stop me. Instead, he thrashes his head from side-to-side, panting.
My entire core feels like it’s on fire. Every stroke of my hand, every sound he makes, arouses me beyond reason. I’ve never felt this way before, but damn is it amazing.
I pull closer to him, and kiss the side of his neck the way he did to me. He swears, but I know it’s a sound of pleasure. Then I position him in my wet folds and wrap my other arm around his neck.
All reason is gone. I’m overwhelmed by a need to feel the pleasure that only this man can give. I rub myself against him, but this time, his pants aren’t in the way. Our hot, wet bodies touch, and it’s like lightning, a storm unleashed.
I don’t let him enter me, but I rub against his hard length, feeling an explosion of every nerve in my folds. I test what I like best, where I like to be touched best, and then I lose all control. Bouncing against him, I suck hard on his neck as I ride this beautiful man’s cock.
When he explodes against my folds, his warm cum only adds to my own pleasure.
Something happens then. I feel my nipples tighten, and pleasure shoots straight to my core.
I gasp, and his name slips from my lips.
My vision goes black and I continue to rub myself frantically against him until the pleasure slowly eases.
At last, I stop, breathing hard against his neck.
That was… incredible. Not sex. But so good. I’ve never felt anything like that before.
I’m beginning to understand why this is how mermaids spend so much of their time. It’s addicting. Already I’m thinking about when and how I can feel this way again.
“Max?” I whisper his name.
He shudders. “Yes.”
“That was amazing.”
His hands tighten around me. “I’m… glad. I’ve never had a woman… do that before.”
I frown. “Mermaids think of almost nothing but pleasure. Everywhere I go they fuck like wilds animals.”
He’s still breathing hard. “Humans and gargoyles aren’t like that, unfortunately."
The notion is strange to me. Should I try to behave like a human or a gargoyle? Is there a purpose in not exploring these feelings of pleasure? I search my mind. No, I can’t think of any reason not to.
“Can we do it again?” I ask.
I feel him harden against me. “Now?”
Laughing, I shake my head and pull back from his shoulder. “Not yet.”
He gives a sharp nod. “Maybe again sometimes. For now, why don’t you pull up my pants?”
I frown. “I like having you out and naked. I like rubbing against you.”
“Fucking hell.” He looks up at the sky with such a look of desperation. “If Arthur turns around and sees us…”
“What?” I ask.
“Then I won’t be able to tell him he can’t touch you.”
I bite my lip, thinking. “Are you not willing to share?”
“Fuck,” he mutters. “No, I can share, but this isn’t a good idea. We’re on a mission to find the monster and return it to our people.”
“We can’t do… this, too?”
Our gazes cling to each other, and he leans forward and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “You’re tempting… and a distraction.”
I shift and he groans, his hands digging into my hips. That feeling comes back, and I’m shocked by how badly I want to rub myself against his big cock again.
If yesterday someone had told me I’d become cock-obsessed, I’d have called him a liar, but these gargoyles bring something out in me. They make me long for more than my sad, lonely life. For some reason, I want to cling to every bit of pleasure I can feel.
“I changed my mind,” I tell him.
He looks down at me, his expression tortured. “About what?”
“I do want to try it again… now.”
“Sirena,” he mumbles.
I bounce a little against him and start to rub slowly. His eyes roll back in his head, and he groans loudly.
“Want me to stop?” I ask, surprised by how breathless I sound.
After a second he says, “Not a chance in hell.”
This time when I bounce against him, he moves against me too.
The friction is… even better than before.
We move against each other, lost in the sensation.
This time, I come just before he does, digging my nails into his shoulders, overcome by the waves moving through me.
When he shoots his hot seed onto my wet folds, I find it strangely sexy.
How is it possible that I made this big, sexy gargoyle come? Me?
I’m definitely living in a dream, because as I collapse against him, he holds me even closer. His hand gently strokes my hair.
It’s almost enough to make me forget that I’m lying to him, that he doesn’t know who or what I am. He doesn’t even know my real name.
I’m a liar and a fraud.
It hurts to acknowledge the truth, even though I know he’d never have touched me if I hadn’t lied.
Maybe I am a monster.