Page 8 of Cruel As A Tree (Chaos God Sugar and Spice Companion Shorts #4)

The leaves on the trees around me all rustled, as if a sudden gust of wind had careened through them, but I didn't feel any breeze. No shifting of air brushed against my arms. No hair moved out of place. Just the sound of leaves tapping against one another without a cause I could sense.

I began to walk in that direction. My boots pressed into the soil so soft it nearly cupped the soles, moss giving slightly under each step.

Branches arched overhead, woven together so thickly in places that they filtered the sunlight into shifting latticework.

Any time I turned away, another branch, or vine, or bush seemed to slide in front of me, roots curling from below, fronds hanging just low enough to snag at my hair or wrap gently around my wrist. The forest tugged, subtly insistent, until I stopped resisting and let it guide me.

I moved forward, not in a straight line but nudged gently left or right by soft interference.

The air smelled fresh and sharp, crushed leaves, damp bark, and the sweet tang of flowers.

The many varieties of flowers and plants caught my eye.

I'd grown up in worn-down suburbia, with metal bars on the windows and metal-fenced cramped backyard lawns that dried out in the summer, the street heavy with the smell of hot asphalt and car exhaust. It was the kind of neighborhood where people cut down their trees thinking they were a nuisance for maintenance, saying the roots would ruin the sidewalk or leaves clog their gutters, but I knew better.

The rare drives through wealthier neighborhoods in my city; the one thing they all had in common was that they had old-growth trees, big towering things that I found out later were protected by city ordinances.

I had planted a few saplings in the front yard after applying to a free tree program run by a non-profit, only to have someone cut them down overnight, leaving stumps that struggled to grow leaves again.

The forest, and the life that it protected, was lush and diverse.

There were so many colors and songs, blossoms and fruits, vines twining up trees and marsupials chattering from branches.

At one point, a plump deer that was no taller than my knee but looked full-grown crossed my path, giving me a curious look before sedately continuing on its journey.

Green and purple were the colors that dominated, and there were multiple plants that had a glow to them that signaled they would light up the night to attract their pollinators.

When I stepped out into a small, sun-speckled clearing, I stopped to take a break, setting down my backpack and sitting down on a thick mound of moss that piled up at the base of a tree. I lay down on the pile of moss, sinking into the softness that was just as good as a bed.

After a moment, something shifted under my leg.

I lifted my head to look down, but then suddenly the whole mound was moving, shifting under me like a living carpet.

I didn't have time to get off of it as it rolled me, a magic carpet ride that only went horizontal and down, sliding off of the mound to the flatter surface of the forest floor and tumbling me until I rolled up against something hard, warm, and man-shaped. It wasn't a carpet, but a blanket.

My hand landed on a warm, muscular chest as my body pressed up against his side.

I looked up at the slumbering form of the Lord of the Forest.

His eyes were closed, his face soft and relaxed even as it was tilted towards me, inches away from my own face, with the same inhuman beauty that made my heart ache a little to look at him.

I knew I shouldn't be taken in by a pretty face and chiseled abs.

Beauty did not equal goodness, but there was still a part of me that wanted to reach forward and brush a lock of his green hair from his forehead.

I stared at his lips, so close to me, remembering how they felt on my neck, and wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

I let out a sigh at the thought.

If I woke him with a kiss, he would likely wake up, flip me over, and fuck me in the moss.

The lower muscles in my abdomen tightened at the thought, squeezing in and lifting up in anticipation at the thought.

After I had rested, I had spent a good amount of my time thinking about how he came onto me hard and fast, pushing past my hesitation but stopping right at the point where it was far too much for me to handle.

I really liked it. I wanted more of it, more of him.

Even just laying here next to him was setting me on fire.

But just because he had licked my knee five days ago didn't mean he wanted me to kiss him while he was sleeping.

It also didn't mean I wanted to turn into some sort of fruit.

I was pretty sure Veveron was using the fruit example as a metaphor, but there was always the chance she meant it literally.

At the very least, fruit was meant to be eaten, and this guy was a feral forest deity.

Who knew what would happen if I gave in to my desires.

What I did know is that I couldn't sit here and just keep staring at his stupid gorgeous face anymore if I wanted to avoid kissing it.

"Lord Lorthian," I said in a soft voice, just above a whisper.

The corner of his lip twitched as if he were suppressing a smile, but he didn't open his eyes. His breath remained calm and steady, not changing as it would if he were going from a deep sleep to awakening.

I pressed my lips together as I thought about how the forest had guided me, how the moss blanket rolled me just perfectly so that I would smoosh up against his naked chest. He could control the forest, right?

I sat up abruptly, looking down at him as he remained, the perfect image of peaceful slumber.

That heat in my body roared with mischief, the desire to play with him the way he was playing with me, even if it was playing with fire.

Besides, Veveron said he had to take me as his mate.

She didn't say I would change if I just fooled around with him.

I let my gaze drop down his body, then let my head follow, moving my lips so that they were mere inches from those mouth-watering abs.

I didn't touch them, I just breathed on his skin, letting my hair brush against his flesh.

His hips twitched, small suppressed movements in response to my teasing.

I got lower, to the spot where his silk pants were melting into a lush fur, a happy trail starting just under his belly button.

The trail led to a heavy mound between his legs, one that changed from a cloth-covered bulge to a fleshy sack as I watched.

I scooted down, my breasts pressing against his thigh, my arm snaking over the other side of him to support myself as I leaned down, brushing my nose against the sensitive skin that was oh so close to the penetrating power between his legs but not quite there.

He smelled like vanilla and honey, and my mouth began to water.

I didn't hesitate. I bit him there, just below the belly button, not hard enough to break skin but hard enough to demand his full attention.

"Lady Lillian," he said, a wicked chuckle underlining his words. "Do you mean to eat me?"

I looked up to see him sitting up on his elbows and smiling down at me, the crinkling in the corner of his eyes sending a flutter through my chest. His looking at me with such joyfulness triggered a happiness in my own heart that was sharp and beautiful at the same time.

I licked my lips and his eyes flicked down to them, his smile growing wider.

"I don't know," I said. "Depends on if you think you can hold still or not."

Roots shot out of the ground, wrapping around his wrists and ankles and pinning them back down against the ground. His grin grew wider and he lifted one eyebrow as if in a challenge.

"My body is yours to play with," he said, his voice deep and sultry.

I opened my mouth, exposing my teeth as if I was going to bite him again, but instead of chomping, I planted a soft kiss, just a little lower down from his belly button, a few inches away from the sack that had grown more taunt.

I could see a narrow pink tip poking out from a fold in the sack.

I moved lower, kissing as I went, the scent of vanilla and honey growing stronger as his thick length began to emerge from the sack.

I planted a kiss as close as I could get without touching, and he groaned, straining against the restraints he placed on himself as he lifted his hips, brushing himself against me.

I moved my head up so I could see better.

His length had slid out what I hoped was entirely given that it was a lot larger than I was used to, leaving the sack hanging under it like a normal one would if he were out all the time.

He was thick and tawny, perhaps eight or nine inches but I couldn't be sure, with a girth too wide to close my fingers around which was a bit concerning, but the tip of him was narrow, so if I did decide to go all the way with him it should start off easy and stretch me out as he went, though I wasn't sure he couldn't fully fit all the way.

At the base near the top, where the flesh of his sack had folded back, was a series of ridged bumps, one of which jutted up like a soft padded hook.

I leaned down and touched it with my tongue, eliciting a gasp from him. It was firm yet soft to my touch.

"That is sensitive," he murmured. "Please don't bite it."

I glanced up at him to see him still smiling at me.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I do not know," he replied. "It is new."

I sat up to look at him better. "A part of your dick is new?"

He nodded. "All of it is new."

"All of it?" I repeated.

He nodded again. "I provide what my mate needs."

I let out a sigh, torn between wanting to lick his length and see if it tasted as good as it smelled and knowing that there was stuff that had to come first.

"Listen," I said, sitting up to kneel next to him. "I'm not your mate."