Page 16

Chapter 16

Lillian

A list of things Erik likes: Taylor Swift, spicy romance novels, and buttsex (question mark)?

A list of things Erik clearly doesn’t like: me.

For a minute there, he really had me going. With the listening, the comforting, squeezing my hand, bringing me jerky, etc. And for a guy who seems to want nothing to do with me sexually, he sure does deliver a great pickup line.

“You are so beautiful, so lovely. So, so perfect.”

Cool! Thanks, dude! Beautiful, lovely, and perfect, until I try to broach the topic of actually doing the dang deed.

What the hell, guy?

“Perhaps I am a prude.” Chyeah. Ya think?

“Fuckin’ tease,” I mutter, turning the fucking squirrels on the fucking spit above the fucking fire. Ugh, I’m supposed to break bread with this guy after he rejected me again?

I shift on the ground, my thighs aching—not just from kneeling and squatting more than I ever have in my life (and on a bum ankle, at that), but also from spending all day being a wet, horny mess from reading all those books he brought me.

Is he trying to punish me? What, he can’t have sex because of this stupid curse, and he’s tired of suffering alone?

They say misery loves company…

I poke one of the carcasses with my finger, gauging how done it is. The flesh is firm, barely yielding, so I push the meat onto one of the plates and start the next spit spinning.

I don’t know what to do. He can’t expect me to just read for the next week as my injury heals, can he? I look down at my foot, the skin mottled with purple and swollen. I assume it isn’t broken, but who knows how long it’ll take to get better?

I tried to cool it down in the lake earlier, but I heard the whispering again. I was so freaked out and confused from the morning’s interactions with Erik, I couldn’t figure out if all of the feelings I was having were mine, or if some of them were…

No. Nope. Not going there.

It’s one thing to grow gills overnight. But hearing voices?

Okay, maybe that isn’t the most convincing argument. But it does make some sense that I would be conflicted and paranoid given the past few days. I’m in a new environment, in the wilderness , for Christ’s sake—of course I’m going to be a little jumpy. I’m on high alert; I’m hearing all sorts of noises that I would usually tune out—snapping twigs, scurrying rodents, bird calls—because I’m in survival mode.

That’s a perfectly normal response to the trauma I’ve endured in the last 72 hours.

A completely understandable, human reaction.

Erik shuffles back inside, and I turn my face away from him. Ugh, right. And then there’s all that extra stress on top of it all.

I stab one squirrel with a fork for myself and shove the other one towards him while I dig in, food-on-a-stick style. It reminds me of chicken wings: not a lot of meat for all the fussing with the bones. Same with the fish we’ve been eating.

I’m grateful that Erik came back with some dried venison earlier. It was good of him. Smart. Kind.

“You are mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you,” I huff. He pokes at his dinner, but doesn’t eat it. “What, are my cooking skills not good enough for you, either?”

“What are you talking about?” He asks, looking far too innocent.

“I just don’t understand you.”

I want him to be mad. I want him to get angry at me for being obtuse, yell at me, tell me I’m being too emotional, so I can blow up and give him a piece of my mind. I want him to give me a reason to make him the target of my anger so I won’t feel guilty about lashing out at him the way I want to.

So much of me is angry right now. At Tiffany, at Dean, at my ankle, at this whole fucking situation. This is stupid, it’s the stupidest, most ridiculous thing that has ever happened, and yet I’m stuck here. I’m stuck on my ass in this pile of leather and fur, eating squirrel meat with a so-hot-it-should-be-illegal hunk of man muscle that refuses to sleep with me because he has a literal monster inside him, and is afraid that unleashing his forbidden lust will release a literal monster in me .

Like, what the actual fuck?? Why does the world seem hell-bent on making me suffer like this?

I’m tired of it. I’m tired of being a good sport about this, trying to be a good, contributing cavewoman while pretending I’m not annoyed that he keeps running away from me. Convincing myself that he doesn’t want me, despite him getting a raging erection whenever he’s around me, just because the world has told me that girls like me aren’t supposed to have guys like him.

I’m just so fucking exhausted of taking every single punch that life throws my way and trying to be chill about it. It isn’t fair! I didn’t ask to be stranded on this island! I didn’t ask to be cursed. But since I’m here, I should at least get to bang the sweet, hot caveman I’m cursed with, shouldn’t I?

I want to scream. I want to terrorize this entire forest until one ounce of it makes sense. And seeing as Erik is the only one who’s here right now, he’s the one who’s gonna have to put up with me while I do it.

But he doesn’t deserve that. Not yet, anyway. So instead, I resort to being pissy and passive aggressive until he does something to deserve my anger— then I can let it all go.

But instead, what does this motherfucker do?

His crystalline eyes shine at me with sympathy. Sympathy!

Then he gives a defeated nod, curling in on himself in what I can only describe as all-consuming shame, and he says, “If you cannot understand me, then no one on this earth will ever be capable of it.”

And fuck me.

It hurts. It hurts so much to see him embodying such hopelessness over our situation. Especially when he’s the reason I’m still here. He’s the reason I’m alive right now—and if he can’t find the strength to carry on, well.

What possible chance do I have?

This strong, amazing man, who can kill a coyote with a spear and build a fire with his bare hands and carry a full-grown woman halfway across a forest, has been broken by life and fate in just about every fucking possible way. And he’s just… giving up.

“No.”

He blinks up at me, and his eyes widen with surprise. Probably because I’m shaking. My fists are clenched so tight to my sides that the muscles and tendons running up and down my forearms are trembling of their own accord.

And I snap.

“You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to be sad, Erik! You don’t get to pull at my fucking heartstrings—you don’t get to make me like you, only to decide that you’re hopeless. That you’re destined to be alone!”

I stomp my injured foot, and searing pain shoots up my entire side. When did I stand up? He reaches to catch me, but I push against his arm, fighting him while simultaneously using him for balance.

Erik’s back is grazing the side of the shelter as I lean into him, cornering him, away from the fire and the small opening that points to the beach, blocking off his exit. I push in closer, until I can feel his pulse speed up from the puffs of breath that ghost over my face.

Balancing on my good leg and bracing myself with one hand on his arm, I poke him in the chest as hard as I can with the other, punctuating each word.

“You! Aren’t! Allowed! To give! Up!”

He has the audacity to look hurt by that, confused. And it makes me even angrier. So I get even closer, until my nose is practically bumping his chin.

“How dare you take care of me! How dare you rescue me, and feed me, and hold my hand, and bring me fucking books, only to reject me like every! Other! Fucking! Man!” I take a shuddering breath, and of course I taste salt on my lips. Because of course I’m crying again. “I was vulnerable with you, dude! I tried to relate to you! I told you my deepest, darkest hurt in all the world, and you… you…”

You listened, I want to say. You cared.

Only to run away from me the second I let myself care back.

“Lillian, I never meant–”

“I know! I know you didn’t mean to. That’s the worst part! You’re not even trying to hurt me, you’re not even being callous or shitty or creepy, you’re literally trying to protect me, and that makes it even worse! Because you care so much about keeping me alive that you don’t even want to try to be happy !”

Suddenly, my arms are so heavy I can’t summon the energy to poke him anymore. I can’t even lift my hand. My leg is shaky from holding all my weight, and I stumble forward, right into his firm, beautiful chest.

I gasp in a shuddering breath through my tears, and my nose fills with his warm, manly scent. It melts me. His arms encircle me, and the bastard squeezes me so hard my ribs crack, burying his face in my hair. I feel him breathe me in, his arms pulling me in tighter as he does.

A shiver runs down my entire body as the pressure of his skin on mine does something to me. A wave of desire overcomes me, making my whole body shudder against him.

His whole body stiffens, and in that instance I know he can feel it too. The pull between us, that isn’t just because we’re the only people on this island, or the only two people in the world cursed to live under the thumbs of two primordial god monsters.

This is the pull between a man and a woman who’ve seen each other for who they really are, for all their faults and scars, and are still crazy enough to want each other.

“Lillian.” He sounds choked as he says my name, as if he’s holding back a groan. “I am sorry I have not been honest with you. I did not mean to reject you. I am not afraid of your vulnerability. I am not dissuaded by your past. If you only knew how I truly felt…”

“Then tell me. Tell me how you feel.”

His arms squeeze me tighter, as if he’s afraid that if he lets even the tiniest molecule of air between us, he’ll lose the courage to speak.

“I am drawn to you like a moth to a flame. From the moment I first saw you, I have longed for you. I have only stayed away from you to protect you from the monster. He wants you for himself, to use you, and I worry that if I let myself give into my feelings for you that He will… that I will… Lillian, I cannot fight desire like that!”

“Then don’t,” I breathe. “Why fight your own feelings? Why fight fate? Erik, don’t you get it? We can’t win a fight against the gods! We can’t change our fate. We can’t control our destiny. It doesn’t matter! None of it matters! The only thing we can control in this world is our own happiness, and no one will give that to us. No one is handing out stickers and get-out-of-fate-free cards for being ‘good.’ So why should we deny ourselves?

“You know what you want, Erik. What will make you happy. Why won’t you just let yourself take it? Don’t you want me? Don’t you want this??” I reach my hand down between us and squeeze the throbbing bulge that’s been pressing into my stomach. He hisses, his whole body buckling as I grind him through the fabric.

“We can’t! Lillian, if I give in…”

I pull away from him abruptly, emboldened by the lust pounding in my veins. I need to see his face; I need to know why he’s fighting, what he’s thinking. If he truly wishes for me to get away from him, or if he’s denying himself the thing he wants most just because he thinks it will protect me from something neither of us can control.

His hands are claws digging into my shoulders, and I wrap my arms around his to steady myself. He’s shaking now, hanging his head, hiding from me; his wavy hair a shivering curtain obscuring his face.

Gently, I slip my fingers through and part his locks, cupping his cheek and tilting his chin until I can meet his eyes. The pure, light gray sparkles in the firelight as he battles with himself, his gaze darting up and down my entire body before settling onto my face.

His expression is full of desire, awe, and a gut-wrenching humility as he takes me in.

“Lillian… please. ”

I remember the electric blue stare that burned into me in the cave. The inhuman glow that accompanied that terrible, awe-inspiring voice in my head. But there’s none of that here now. The clear, pale eyes that bore into mine are wholly human. Wholly Erik.

“There is no monster here, Erik,” I whisper, gripping his face and willing him to listen. “This feeling between us, this desire: it isn’t Phorkys. It isn’t Keto. This is entirely us. ”

“How do you know ?”

“Because of your eyes!” My own dart between his, tears streaming down my face as I will my words to sink in. “I can see when the monster is taking over. Your eyes glow. But right now? They’re perfectly clear, perfectly human. It’s you , Erik. Just you.”

“Just me…” He repeats, the words barely audible on his cracked lips.

“Just you.”

He blinks for a moment, and I feel another shudder pass through his body before he opens them again. “Even now?”

Nothing has changed, but his voice is desperate. I nod. “Even now.”

A slight pause, then he squeezes my shoulders. “Still?”

“Erik,” I hold back a giggle as he moves his hands down, exploring my body and passing his rough fingertips down the sides of my breasts and over my ribs, making me gasp. My eyes flutter closed as his thumbs brush my nipples.

“Answer me!” He demands, and my eyes fly open.

“Yes! Still you!”

He exhales a disbelieving laugh and explores me more. Moving his hands lower, to my hips. My thighs. The curve of my ass.

“Now?”

I sigh with pleasure, smiling at his perfectly gray gaze. “No glow.”

Now it’s my turn. I snake my hand back down to the waistband of his shorts, eliciting a pained gasp from the Viking. I raise an eyebrow and wait for him to give me permission.

He nods, wide-eyed. I slip the knot of the drawstring free before dipping my fingers under the fabric.

The lowest, most primal moan I’ve ever heard rumbles from his throat in response and his eyelids flutter closed as I wrap my hand around his rock-hard shaft. I work the heavy cock out of its prison, pushing down his shorts until it springs free between us. Then I curl my fingers around the base, letting my palm cradle the underside.

His eyes spring open. In a panicked gasp, he asks, “now?”

I raise on the tip-toes of my good foot, pressing myself into him so I can graze his jaw with my lips. His fingers twitch on my ass cheeks as he draws me closer. “It’s you, Erik. This–” I give him a squeeze and he groans, fingers sinking in tighter, but his eyes stay gray, “–is all you.”

Suddenly, my legs are in the air. A growl fills the shelter as Erik scoops me into his arms, and before I realize what’s happening my back is flat against the furs I’ve been using for a bed and there’s a muscly, long-haired hunk kneeling between my legs. My bad ankle is cradled against his shoulder and he’s licking a trail of hungry kisses from my heel to my hip, pausing only to sniff greedily at the apex of my–

“Oh God, Erik!”

“Look into my eyes, Lillian,” he murmurs into my core, his facial hair tickling me right where I’m aching and sensitive. “Who am I now?”

“You’re– uh– still—still Erik,” I pant, just managing to keep my eyes open and trained on his face as his breath whispers against my clit.

His eyes—gray as the day I met him—crinkle in the corners as a triumphant smile splits his lips. He lifts his face away from me, but before I can whimper at the loss (just when we were finally making progress!), he runs his fingers up and down my slit. My hips jolt at the contact, and his face grows serious.

“I have longed to do this since the moment I laid eyes on you, sweet Lillian.” Slowly, he delves the tips of his fingers between my lower lips and finds my soaked, waiting cunt. I’m so wet from an entire day of reading smut and pining after this man; he doesn’t meet any resistance. His smile widens as he traces languid circles through my folds, gathering up my slickness, working me up into a writhing, squirming mess. Then he brings his fingers to his lips and sucks .

Fuck me. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

His eyes flutter closed on a very lewd moan, so low and dirty I can feel it in my stomach. The want, the need— it’s there in full stereo, and it only stokes the embers of desire burning in my core . He opens his eyes again and pins me down with his stare, removing his fingers from his mouth before speaking.

“I need you to promise me, Lillian.”

“Anything,” I whimper, dying for him to finish what he started. But he is all business as he cups me with his hand.

“You are to look into my eyes the whole time I am pleasuring you. No matter how much you want to close them, no matter how close you are to your climax, you will keep them open and trained on me. If you see any sign of the monster, you will tell me.”

“Okay,” I breathe.

“Promise me!” He says, thrusting two fingers inside me once again and swirling them, faster and faster and driving me crazy with pleasure. It feels so good after being empty for so long, and I roll my hips into his hand, crying out as he hits that spot inside me that makes me see stars.

“I promise!”

“ Look at me!”

I lock onto his gaze, his still-gray eyes boring into mine with an intensity that has me shaking. But it isn’t just his eyes, it’s his fingers. He’s pulsing them inside me, spinning them in tiny circles that push against my inner walls. It’s so good, he’s so good– his fingers thick and rough and relentless as he brings me closer and closer to the edge.

Wordless, keening noises are already leaking from my lips, mixing with the sloppy sounds of my sopping cunt, when he adds another finger to the mix and bends down to tease me with his mouth.

“ Fuck! Erik, ah–” my voice breaks off in a high-pitched scream as he thrusts his tongue between my folds.

The whole time, he maintains unbreaking eye contact, driving me crazy as I watch his face. Normally, I would have my head back on a pillow when someone goes down on me, but with Erik, I can’t look away. He made me promise.

But that means I see everything.

I see how he swirls his tongue under the swell of my mound, sucking on the sensitive skin of my inner lips before lapping at my clit. I see the moisture gather on his beard as his fingers pump inside me, my juices spilling onto his face and glistening on his lips. I see the fat of my thighs jiggle when my legs shake with every wave of pleasure, the hunger in his expression, and the way his eyes roll back into his head when his fingers frantically pump into that perfect, aching spot inside me and a stream of clear fluid gushes onto his face.

But I don’t just see it. I feel and hear the guttural moan of pleasure from him when it vibrates against my core. I feel the scream claw its way out of my throat as the building wave of ecstasy crashes into me, I hear him slurp down every last drop of my release.

And I watch him through the entire rollercoaster. His eyes stay gray the whole time.

They shine with delight and arousal as he slowly licks me through the aftershocks, holding my thighs on either side of his head and letting me grind my pussy against his face while the tremors slowly ease.

When the final pings of pleasure fade away, he lifts his chin from my center. “No monster?”

I shake my head, allowing myself to finally relax my head against the ground for a moment as I catch my breath. “Not even for a second.”

“That is good,” he says, and he lowers my hips to his lap, lining up his shaft with my entrance and rubbing it lengthwise against the slick skin. His cock is impossibly hard, leaking precum from its thick, flushed tip, and it feels so good rubbing against me.

It twitches with impatience. “I wonder if he will stay away while I seek my pleasure.”

I wiggle my hips against him. “Only one way to find out.”