Page 19 of Wild Life (STEAM-y #2)

The Come Back

Aleki

The door slammed, and it was as if Maris had never existed. Except she was still everywhere. The phantom pressure from where her ankles had been wrapped around my head remained. My finger was still slick and warm from her vagina. And my ears still buzzed with her breathy moans. I could still smell her musky scent. I lifted my finger to my nose, inhaling the memory of her that was only moments old.

Had I done something wrong?

Her responses to my actions had convinced me that she had been enjoying it. She had encouraged me to continue. Begged me not to stop. And I hadn’t wanted to stop.

I’d had no idea that my touch could make another person react that way—that it held such power to make a woman’s body melt like that.

Had I mistaken my ability? Was I terrible at what I had been doing to her? My experience was limited to my hand on my own dick. Handling tits and pussies , as they were sometimes called in the books in my trunk, was a foreign adventure.

It seemed so much easier on paper. The man would hold the woman and kiss her body until he shoved his cock inside her, and then they would come together. They made it sound so simple. And none of the books mentioned standing with a painfully stiff shaft. I was more confused about a woman’s body than I had been before I had offered to treat her ant bites.

I should have stuck to the original task of covering her bumps with honey and then turning in to sleep. But as was the case whenever she was near, I had lost track of my goal and chaos had followed.

I hated chaos. My days had been routine, and I preferred them that way. Then Screech Owl had shown up and terrorized my life with her loud voice and unpredictable behavior. And long legs. And perfect breasts.

My cock jerked painfully, threatening to explode as I pictured her lying on the table like a meal ready for me to eat.

“Fuck!” I cursed out loud, slamming my palm onto the table still warm from her ass.

Without untying the cloth, I squeezed myself hard. It twitched eagerly for attention. I pumped hard, more violently than usual, imagining what it would have been like if it had been my length inside her rather than my finger. My hips thrashed back and forth as I hunched over, tending to my needs.

My release was halted by the sound of the door opening, and I spun around with my back facing the door, cock still in hand.

The door closed again and soft footsteps paired with what must have been drips of water sounded on the floor.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was small, coming from the opposite end of the table.

I stayed rooted in my spot, waiting for her to elaborate.

“I’m really fucked up. I don’t know how to explain it properly, so bear with me.” She drew in a heavy breath before continuing, “My parents died when I was eight.”

I blinked my eyes shut, remembering my own parents and how they had died when I was only a few years older.

“We were on our way to my grandparents’ house for Thanksgiving, and it was raining. The car swerved and rolled. My parents didn’t survive, but I did. Everyone said I was lucky to be alive, but I didn’t feel that way. My parents were never the warm-and-fuzzy type that kids were supposed to have. I ended up moving in with my even more emotionally distant aunt. She was a difficult woman to make mistakes in front of, and I was full of them. Hell, I guess I was the biggest mistake for her because she’d wound up raising a child that she never wanted in the first place.” Maris let out a sad chuckle that tugged at my heart. Her voice sounded so hollow, like she was moving through life playing the role of herself. The role that she believed everyone expected of her.

She continued, her shaky breath filled an endless pause to her explanation. “I use men to find the safety and comfort I never had in my childhood.”

I had been aware of her need for security, but I hadn’t realized she used men to fulfill it. The problem was too big for me to understand how deeply it ran, but I would try.

“And when I came here, I really tried not to slip into my old ways. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I’d been given a fresh start to learn to be alone, to create my own security. And I tried so hard to be strong. I mean…you’re…well, you… and it hasn’t been easy to resist.”

I grinned as her voice wavered. I wasn’t easy to resist.

“But I did it. And then just now, I sensed I was slipping back again, regressing into the me that I’ve never liked. I realized that this was different…like I wasn’t rushing through it to get to the part where I could push myself into your arms so you’d hold me. What we were doing made me whole.”

I had felt the same way when I was exploring her body. Like it was a part of me, a path that was okay to cross.

“Then, like a lightning bolt striking me, I realized that we are strangers. I don’t know anything about you. I was taking advantage of you…just like all the other guys in my past. They were all jerks who had been all too eager to sleep with me, but not you. You’re too good for that. I don’t want to do that to you. I never want to look back and lump you in together with them in my memories. You’re a good person who is always trying to help me, especially when you hate me, yet we barely know each other. I don’t even know your name, for Christ’s sake.”

She let out another laugh, livelier this time. “I’ve been calling you Cryptid in my head since we met.”

Cryptid? Like a mythical monster?

She approached, coming to stand a few steps behind me. “What’s your name?” Her voice was soft and gentle, as if we were meeting for the first time.

I wanted so badly to answer, to give up this farce, but she would hate me. With her history, I risked pushing her back into the protective shell that she had built from childhood. It was clear that she was having some sort of breakthrough in her own life, and I didn’t want to mess it all up. She couldn’t continue feeling guilty for corrupting me, when I was as fucked up as she claimed to be.

I turned around, showing her the man that she thought was full of good, with my hand still around my cock, my loincloth completely soaked with pre-ejaculate.

Maris was wearing her shirt again, now damp from the rain. Her attention bounced from the intensity in my eyes to my poorly concealed length within my grasp.

I should have hidden it from her, but I didn’t care to. This was all of me.

She stood there, as if unsure how to proceed. I had scared her frozen. Disgusted her with my barbaric ways.

If she had any sense, she would run far away, leaving this cryptid and this island behind.

“Do you touch yourself often?” she asked, her eyelids unexpectedly heavier than before.

My cock pulsed, acknowledging her question.

“Are you touching yourself because of me?”

Her curiosity disarmed me. It was direct, yet intrigued.

I nervously nodded my head.

She didn’t run.

“Does it feel good?”

I nodded. So good.

Her steps were slow as she crossed the distance between us, closing in on me like I was her prey, until she was right in front of me. I could smell the heady aroma between her legs. My blood rushed furiously. I administered a pump to alleviate the throbbing she caused.

She licked her lips as she followed my movement, and I imagined those wet lips where my hand was.

“Can I touch you?”

I didn’t hesitate to nod.

Her fingers went to my leg, skating up my firm thighs. Her touch was feather soft. It moved up under my cloth and grazed my testicles. She gave them a gentle squeeze. My breath was uneven, and heat flushed my stomach.

“Your cloth is wet,” she hummed, playing with my sac.

I was far too aware of the moisture from how the fabric clung to my engorged flesh.

Her thin fingers undid the knots at my waist with strong determination.

The drenched fabric fell to the ground with a soft thud.

I wondered what she thought of me. Did she hate how I looked? I’d bet that to her, I was an animal since she was used to seeing humans dressed in clothes.

Her sight roamed over my length, aimed straight for her like an arrow at its target. It was telling me: “That’s the one I want.”

Did she want it the same way? Did she want me? I was too innocent for a woman of her experience. Surely, I’d just disappoint her.

She traced a line from my base to the tip with her finger, as if measuring me.

A sigh, almost like a whimper, escaped her. “Fuck,” she whispered. “You’re huge.”

Her appreciation nourished me, boosting my confidence.

I did look huge in her small grasp. She stroked me with the perfect amount of pressure only once, before I reached for her waist for balance.

She did it again, and I let out a harsh groan.

“Am I hurting you?” she asked. Now she was the one worried about me, when before, I had been afraid that her moaning had meant I was causing her harm.

My tongue thickened in my mouth, and even if I could have responded to her, I wouldn’t have been able to speak.

I shook my head.

She smiled and swiped her finger over the tip, disturbing the bead of fluid that had accumulated there and robbing me of breath.

“Has anyone ever done this to you?”

Never. I hadn’t known what I’d been missing—how good it could be when someone else touched me. I would die if she didn’t do it again.

Over and over again, she pumped me hard. I let out a husky grunt.

“I know you can’t speak, but I love to hear your sounds. They’re so sexy.”

Sexy? This must have been a dream. There was no way this attractive woman was calling me sexy. She must have had her pick of any man where she was from, yet she was enthralled with me. No, this couldn’t have been real, but I didn’t want the fantasy to end.

She worked faster, eliciting more noises from me. It was hard to stay upright with how voraciously she rubbed. My lids fell and I threw my head back, relishing her touch.

Then, suddenly, I was encased by something warm and wet. I snapped my head down to find her on her knees before me. Her mouth was around my cock, her cheeks hollowed in, constricting me. Her hand was at the base, guiding me onto her tongue.

Fuck. My body was electrified, as if I had been dead all these years and she had zapped me to life. How could I ever come back from this?

Her head bobbed back and forth, taking in more of me with each pass.

How big was her damn mouth? How far could I reach inside of there? I felt the back of her throat with my tip, and I gripped her head, holding her in place. She choked around me, squeezing me tighter, her cough vibrating through my erection.

Stars danced in my eyes, blinding me from how heightened my other senses were.

Her hand went to my sac, playing with it like she was testing ripe fruit, and I lost my mind. My whole body shuddered violently, and I dug my fingers into her scalp while hers gripped my hips as she gagged on me. Hot liquid rushed through me and filled her mouth. She sputtered while attempting to swallow it down.

I tried to catch my breath and pulled out of her, checking to see if she was alright. She was more beautiful to me than ever before, her eyes glossy and tears staining her cheeks. Her swollen lips were wet with my release and fixed into a mischievous smile.

She had enjoyed it.

My heart was ready to burst at the sight of her.

What had she done to me? And how could I make it happen again?

Only she mattered right now, though. She had confessed that she used sexual acts to seek comfort.

My legs threatened to give out when I quickly blew out the candles. She waited for me on her knees in the darkness.

I lifted her up from the ground, and she wrapped her legs around my waist.

“What are you doing?”

I was carrying her to bed, where I would hold her for as long as she needed me to.

I understood what it was like to be alone, and together, we didn’t have to be anymore.