Page 11

Chapter Eleven

Maeve

M y search bled into the next day and continued well into mid-afternoon. I was cold and tired. My fingers had gone numb from sorting through the dewy-grass, and my sore muscles begged for rest.

I wasn’t sure when I’d nodded off. I bolted up from where I’d curled up in the soft bed of clovers, disoriented, panic immediately setting in. Had I broken some unspoken rule of our arrangement by falling asleep?

Relief lifted my chest when I found Balor fast asleep on the other side of the ruins, lounging against the broken pillar. A strange fusion of disgust and arousal came over me when I noticed his pants were shoved down his hips with his cock in his hand.

Sometime in the night, he’d jerked off—the evidence still trickled down the length of his shaft, the giant wet spot on his pants giving way to the fact that there had been a lot of cum.

This sick bastard had touched himself while I slept. An unwelcome warmth curled between my thighs.

“Stupid vagina,” I scolded myself beneath my breath. “This isn’t one of your smutty monster books.”

Balor was clear across the other side of the ruins, and I’d spoken in a paper thin whisper, yet my words jerked him from his sleep.

Our eyes locked.

His cock twitched under my attention and he licked his lips, that wicked tongue sliding suggestively over his green hued flesh.

That tongue. The things it did to me last night…

“Sleep well, wee one?”

I shot him an angry glare and turned my attention back to my task of sorting through the clovers, trying to pretend he wasn’t there and failing miserably.

What did he care if I got any rest? What kind of mind games was he trying to play? Did I trust him enough to fall asleep again? Hell no. But what choice would I have if I didn’t find a four-leaf clover soon?

I’d slept for at least a handful of hours.

At least I had more energy to extend my search.

There’d be no stopping until I found that four-leaf clover.

If I didn’t, I’d die trying. How fitting that I was already in a graveyard?

Of all the bones scattered among the ruins, I was positive I’d be the only human here.

Better to die of exposure than by busting open around this monster’s offensively large dick.

Though, exposure to what, I wasn’t sure.

The weather here was perfect, as was the temperature. Warm, almost tropic in the way the sun and breeze brushed my skin in equal proportions. There was plenty of shade when I felt like I’d had too much direct sunlight, and Balor was right—there was food everywhere.

Letting myself starve sounded like a painful death, and knowing Balor he’d probably force feed me when it came down to it. So I plucked myself a peculiar but tasty looking giant berry and took my fill before continuing my search.

Night descended. After countless hours of fruitless searching, I curled up in the plush bed of clovers for a break. Only a break, I’ll just close my eyes for a few minutes…

Is what I told myself.

Sleep eventually pulled me under, and too tired to fight any longer, I surrendered to it.

My dreams were heated and terrifying.

Balor’s engorged cock, obscene with its oozing slit and twitching veins, loomed over me. Its shadow swallowed me whole.

Gigantic green fingers wrapped around the shaft, stroking it until cum gushed from its tip like a geyser, molten and steaming.

It was raining monster jizz. Drops the size of my head poured down, viscous and aggressively fragrant.

Balor, king of the giants, was doing exactly as he threatened back in the streets of Cork. Drowning me in his cum. The liquid rose until it was throat level. I tilted my head back and tried to swim to stay afloat, but the liquid was too thick. Like trying to swim in glue.

It was disturbing. The most fucked up part was how there was a part of my brain that was perfectly happy to drown in the hot, soothing nightmare. Happy to suffocate here if it meant never waking up to face the real Balor.

The cum spilled into my mouth, my nostrils. I couldn’t breathe. Choking, I woke up on a gasp, covered in sweat. Balor loomed over me, his evil eye stark against the shadows masking his features.

“Get away from me!” I ripped up a handful of clovers and flung them at him.

He chuckled at my sad attempt at self defense. “ Socair tú féin,” he said, his Irish words an attempt to soothe me, wrapped in that dark and dangerous baritone. “Ya were cryin’ in yer sleep.”

“So what?” I snapped, teeth bared. “Did you come over here to get a better view while you jerk off? Do the tears make for a better show?”

“I came over here to make sure ye were safe. Most of the creatures that once called the Otherworld home are extinct, but there are still plenty o’ creepy crawlies about that would love to munch on yer sweet bones.”

I blinked. What was with this guy? One minute he was playing the evil giant, thirsty for revenge, and the next he acted like he had a heart buried under all that fire and muscle.

“You want to keep me safe? Take me home.”

His expression hardened and his fiery beard danced in a flurry of sparks under his sigh. “I already told you. You are home.”

I held back a wave of tears, knowing that Balor wasn’t talking about the magical ruins of his castle. He was referring to himself. Technically, he was right. He was home. If only he’d transform back and I could put my whole heart and soul into pretending this nightmare never happened.

My eyes dropped to the patch of clovers around me, a sickening thought settling over me. “There isn’t a four-leaf clover in here, is there? You’re just fucking with me.”

Balor folded his brawny arms over his chest, amusement gleaming behind his normal eye. “Do you think I can control the Earth, little misfortune?”

“I don’t fucking know. You can shift to the size of a house. You can be a house. How should I know where your magic stops?”

“You findin’ that clover lies between you and the gods.”

Fucking great. So I was wasting my time, because when had the gods ever been on my side? In fact, I was almost certain the gods, or whatever higher power, hated me.

Even so, I had to keep trying. “I’m going to keep looking.”

“And if ya never find yer clover? Will you give yerself to me?” His face was still masked in shadows, but I could hear the smirk in his voice.

I didn’t say anything in response. My answer was for me to turn my back on him and keep sifting through the bed of shamrocks, which stretched through the entire ruins. Clovers covered every inch of ground. I could be searching forever.

“You’re a stubborn and violent thing when ya mean to be,” Balor muttered. “But suit yourself. I’m content to watch you bend over for me in that scrap of fabric barely covering yer wee cunt.”

I flung a hateful glare over my shoulder to see him retreating to his seat on the broken pillar. “I’ll just be over here, thinkin’ about the sweet cream of your faighin soakin’ my tongue.”

“Keep dreaming. I’d sooner die than let you touch me again.”

He answered with a growling laugh, the guttural sound making my insides twist and my core heat.

I’m going to wait this bastard out even if it kills me.

The days passed, blurring into one another.

My sleep cycle was shot to hell. I napped randomly but only when my body reached its limit.

Eventually, the naps and the food only did so much to rejuvenate me.

My mind was starting to slip. The dreams only got worse, more sexual and dark in nature.

And always without fail, they starred him .

I’d wake up in a sweaty daze and there he’d be, staring at me with that hungry look on his face, leering at me from his corner. Like a predator waiting for the opportune moment to pounce on their prey.

I needed to get out of here.

I needed a real bed.

I needed human food. If I had to eat so much as another berry, I’d scream.

And this growing part of me—one that grew stronger by the day no matter how much I fought it—needed him.

That strange magnetism hellbent on drawing us together was growing stronger by the day.

The fucking bastard. I was going mad and he was over there, sitting on his seat, looking exactly as he had when we first got here.

Even if I wanted to keep searching, my body was set against me. My pussy was constantly wet and achy, and it only got worse when I felt his eyes hot on my back. Just waiting for me to cave.

My eyes were so tired, clover leaves blended together. So many times I swore I found my four-leaf clover, only to pluck it and find it with three leaves.

I needed more sleep. Maybe this time, the rest would help.

I curled up beneath a thicket of foliage, giving me a shred of privacy even though I could see his lower half peeking out from the leaves. Then I turned my back on him, closed my eyes, and allowed sleep to take me.

Another sex dream.

Balor, king of the giants, was as big as a skyscraper. I was naked and splayed out in the palm of his hand. My legs were spread and his tongue was on me. The monstrous appendage was so large that when he licked me it covered my entire body.

I could feel every taste bud, rough on my bare skin, scraping my nipples and wriggling at the junction of my legs. He left no inch of me untouched, leaving my skin wet and sticky.

This wasn’t my first dream I’d had of him, but this one was different from the others. This heat, his scent, his tongue… It felt so real, I wasn’t sure what was a dream and what wasn’t anymore.