The Monster's Lover Page 4

  I shook my head, trying to bring my focus back to the pile of clothing in my lap. Today, Ma was spooling yarn for hats, and I was mending tattered rags, trying to make jackets for my brothers in the bright sun of late summer. But my mind had wandered, and my stitches went wild. If she noticed, Ma said nothing.

  I’d thought of nothing but him for the past five days.

  The chatter of the Lucky past our far potato fields reminded me of his laugh. The thin streak of pale sky at daybreak was the same shade as his eyes. Once, when Ma and I were harvesting button mushrooms along the dark fringe of Ironwood, I swore I could even smell him. I’d been bent toward the earth, my fingers brushing aside the loose pine duff of the forest floor, when the hairs along my neck prickled almost as though a hand had caressed my skin. But when I turned to stare at the darkness beneath the pines, I’d seen nothing but the play of light and shadows across the smattering of ferns behind me. I almost called his name, but Ma cried for me, and I’d come back to reality.

  And, oh, how my body ached for his touch! In the dark, silent hours of the night, I waited until I was certain Ma was asleep, and then I brought my hands between my legs, trying to touch myself the way he had touched me. The pleasure I stole during those furtive, panting moments was sharp and intense, but still just a distant echo of the ecstasy his body gave me. Almost always, after the crest of pleasure, tears slid past my closed eyelids in the dark, chasing my bliss.

  “You’re sure?” I pushed. “What about...demons?”

  Ma finally sighed and put down her yarn. “Sol, demons are a child’s fear. This is the real world, not some story from Bard Sturlinsen. You know demons do not leave Múspell.”

  I turned to the ground, feeling my cheeks burn. As though she’d be able to sense my guilt just by meeting my eyes.

  “If you’d like to speak about what happened in town—” Ma began.

  “No.” I stood, folding the rags in my chair to cover my trembling hands. “I’ll go tend to the potatoes.”

  She sighed again. “Take your time. I know you’ve little enough time left here.”

  Her words did not bring me comfort.

  THE HEAVY SUMMER SUN was falling toward the trees when I reached our potato field. It was the furthest field from our house, and the closest to the banks of the Lucky, where the soil was richest. It did not need weeding; this late in the year, the potato plants were tall and strong, far more massive than any of the weeds.

  But I’d brought the hoe anyway, and I plunged it into the rich, dark earth, severing the roots of bindweed and the bitter tanglewood shoots. I wanted to be alone, working hard with my entire body, leaving no room for my mind to spin.

  He had to have been a demon of Múspell, but my traitorous brain wouldn’t accept reality. I kept dreaming he was a prince or a prisoner; a madman or a mystic. Perhaps I could rescue him from a spell, like in one of the stories they say Bard Sturlinsen sang when the world was young.

  Perhaps he could rescue me.

  I wiped sweat from my eyes and attacked a huge patch of bindweed. It was far enough from the potatoes that it wasn’t a threat to their fecundity, but it was satisfying to hack the little green stems into nothingness. The air filled with the tang of their crushed leaves. Useless damned weeds.

  Little enough time, Ma said. She was right. King Nøkkyn would claim me on the day of the Harvest Festival, taking me to the black towers of his fortress, a place none of us had ever seen. And then he’d find the woman he claimed and bought was—

  “Hello.”

  I jumped. The hoe’s thick handle flew from my fingers to crash against the earth. My heart raced, and I gulped for air as I turned toward the shadows of the Ironwood.

  He stood on the edge of the potato field, his dark red hair swirling around his shoulders, his pale eyes burning. My vision blurred with wholly unexplainable tears as he walked toward me. His bare foot sank into the dark earth and broken bindweed stems.

  “You,” I gasped.

  He nodded. He was so close I could have fallen into his arms and pressed my body against his naked chest.

  “Everywhere I go, I smell you,” he said. His voice was thick and rough. “Even in my dreams.”

  My breath caught in my throat. He raised his hand to gently brush my cheek.

  “You’ve enchanted me,” he said.

  “No,” I whispered. “No, I swear it.”

  He tilted his head to one side, running his eyes over my body. My skin prickled with heat; something deep and hungry inside me tightened.

  “You’re the one who’s enchanted me,” I said. “You’re all I can think about.”

  He frowned. “I cast no spell.”

  “You wouldn’t have to. You’re a demon.”

  “You still think me a demon?”

  His frown faded as he grinned, and my body grew noticeably warmer. Especially the place between my legs, the place I rubbed at night as I thought of him.

  “You have to be.” Now I felt my cheeks flushing as well. “No one else could be so handsome.”

  His smile widened. “You find me handsome?”

  “Of course.”

  “You are the most beautiful woman in all the Realms,” he said.

  His voice was level, almost cold. He wasn’t trying to impress me, I realized. He was stating a fact. The sun rises in the East. Winter’s bitter cold follows summer’s heat.

  You are beautiful.

  I met his eyes. He stared at me like the entire world contained only my body, my smile. He stared at me like he would die without me.

  “I can’t stop thinking of you,” he said. “I—I want more.”

  He didn’t even touch me. He didn’t need to; his eyes set my body aflame. I opened my mouth and whispered the word my heart had sung since we met.

  “Yes.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  I had the presence of mind to insist we leave the field.

  Even though everything else in the world had ceased to matter, even though I found it almost impossible to think with the fire of arousal consuming my body, some small, still reasonable part of my mind realized we should not fall upon each other in the middle of my family’s potato field.

  “How did you do it?” he asked as we walked toward the protection of the forest’s thick shadows.

  “Do what?”

  “Cast your spell. You don’t smell like magic.”

  I staggered as my feet found a grass-entrapped log. He caught me, pulling me to his chest.

  “I-I didn’t,” It was a struggle to concentrate this close to his naked body. I could feel the hard length between his legs, and my body ached for it. “I’m not magical.”

  He took a deep breath and plunged his fingers into my hair. “I’ve never wanted more before.”

  My heart gave a strange little twinge at that, although I couldn’t explain why.

  “Once more,” he whispered. “Just one more time.”

  My stomach fluttered. One more time suited me. My time in the shadow of the Ironwood was, after all, severely limited. Perhaps I could learn something from this demon, and show King Nøkkyn some new pleasure that would gain me favor.

  “One more time,” I agreed.

  He sighed and his chest pressed against mine. His hands trembled as they ran down my back, fumbling with my dress. I helped him unlatch the clasp at the neck, careful to keep from tearing the threadbare fabric.

  When the clasp opened, I stepped back and slipped the dress over my shoulders to pool at my feet. He moaned as if he’d been hurt.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, glancing down to see if he’d stepped on something sharp.

  I flushed again. His cock was enormous, and it had turned a rich shade of red, almost a violet. As I watched, a clear drop formed on the head, making something deep inside of me growl in hunger.

  “Nothing,” he groaned. “Everything.”

  He moved closer, running his hands over my arms. “Your scent. It’s—Oh, stars, it’s too much.”

  I ope
ned my mouth to speak, but my body moved faster than my mind, and my lips pressed to his. I ran my fingers down the rippling muscles of his stomach, his dark hair rasping against my palm. When I reached his hips, I stopped thinking. I opened for him as our mouths embraced, letting his lips and tongue fill me while my fingers explored the differences in our bodies. He gasped into my mouth when I first brushed the hard length of his manhood, and I stopped, pulling back.

  “Oh, no,” he cried. “Stars, don’t stop.”

  I smiled and stepped back into his arms, both my kisses and my touch more confident now. I ran my fingertips over the length of his cock, from its silky head to its thick base. His breath came faster, and his hips began to rock. I watched as his head tilted back.

  Oh, he was handsome, this demon! My body burned next to his, and the space between my legs slicked with heat. The sheer power I held over him in this moment, the ability to make him tremble and pant and moan, flooded my mind.

  He was so beautiful. So beautiful, and mine.

  I wrapped my fingers around his length, gripping his shaft the same way my body had embraced him on the banks of the Lucky, and I moved my hand up and down, mimicking the cadence of his hips against mine.

  “Yes,” he said. “Yes, oh! Yes!”

  His legs stiffened, pressing his weight against me, and I moved my hand faster, not entirely certain if that was what he wanted, or where this would lead. His arms tightened around my shoulders, and his entire body began to shake. His cock throbbed in my hands, and he cried out, his voice sounding off the trees. Heat exploded from the head of his cock and coated my belly. His shoulders sagged as he leaned against me.

  “Sol,” he whispered. “Oh, stars, Sol.”

  “You know my name.” I flushed with pleasure at that small sign of intimacy.

  He hummed something noncommittal as his lips found my neck, kissing the skin under my ear. The fire inside me flared at his touch.

  “Tell me yours,” I said.

  “Fenris,” he growled.

  I opened my mouth to disagree, but he dropped to his knees in front of me, taking my nipple into his mouth, and all I could do was gasp. His lips and tongue were so delicate, flickering across the swell of my breast, kissing the hard bud of my nipple. He closed his eyes, breathing me in as he wrapped his hands around my thighs.

  “I watched you,” he said. “I followed your scent here. But you weren’t alone.”

  My breath caught in my throat. So he had been there when Ma and I picked the button mushrooms.

  “That’s how you know my name,” I whispered.

  “Sol. Yes. It’s a lovely name.”

  His head rested against my belly, next to the drying smear of seed he’d streaked over my abdomen, and his words sent shivers across my skin. I reached for his head, running my fingers through the wild tangles of his dark red hair. He smelled good, a thick, rich, male scent, like the forest personified.

  “My demon,” I whispered.

  He grinned. His soft lips looked so inviting that I couldn’t resist. I fell to my knees next to him, bringing my mouth to his. We kissed for a long time, our chests pressed together, our fingers intertwining. We kissed as his manhood grew hard again, first twitching tentatively against the smooth skin of my stomach, and then reaching urgently as his hips swayed into mine. We kissed until the world fell away, until the only thing that mattered in all the Nine Realms was his mouth, his tongue, and the way he moved inside of me.

  And still it wasn’t enough.

  I leaned back, pulling him over me. His breath was coming short and fast, and his eyes burned as he watched me. His hand trailed down my stomach, and I wrapped my fingers around his wrist, pulling it downward, to the place between my legs that ached so in his absence.

  “Here.” I pressed his fingers to the place he’d discovered. “Oh! Like that!”

  His eyes lit as I moaned under him. “You like this?”

  “Yes!” I cried.

  His smile widened as his fingers slowed, making wide, gentle circles around the apex of my sex. I rippled under his hands, cresting and gasping, but his fingers moved away just a heartbeat before my release, leaving me panting and breathless. I would have begged for more, but under his touch, I’d forgotten how to speak.

  “I like this, too,” he growled. “I could do this to you forever.”

  I moaned. My mind was lost in a red haze, and my body felt like I was tumbling, spinning and adrift. He could do this forever, I thought, and I would just float away, my mind lost in an ecstasy of touch.

  “But I want to taste you again,” he said.

  He bent to place his lips on my navel. When the heat of his lips and tongue reached the place his hand had caressed until I’d almost dissolved, the climax I’d been chasing for so long crashed over me, and I fell apart like smoke. I screamed, only vaguely aware that my muscles were seizing, and my hands were clutching at his hair.

  Then, as so often happened when I caressed myself in the darkness of our house, tears chased my pleasure. I tried to hide my face against the ground, but a choked cry slipped out of my lips.

  “Sol! What is it? What have I done?”

  The air suddenly felt cold against my side as he pulled away. I hiccupped another sob into the damp moss. Warm fingers traced my shoulder gingerly, almost as though he was afraid I might break.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know—”

  “No,” I said. “No. It’s not you. It’s—”

  I wiped my eyes and looked at him. His brow had furrowed above his light blue eyes. He looked worried, and more than a little frightened.

  “Kiss me,” I said.

  His frown deepened. “What?”

  “Just kiss me.”

  His eyes widened, and I couldn’t wait any longer. I pushed myself off the moss to attack him. He opened his mouth, but my lips were on his, drowning any protest with my tongue. I kissed him hard, digging my fingers into his hair, wrapping my legs around his waist. His cock pulsed beneath me, rigid and urgent. He moaned in surrender.

  My tears vanished, evaporating before the rekindled heat of my desire. I wanted him, wanted this demon inside me, wanted him with a thirst so deep and powerful it might never be sated.

  “Down,” I growled.

  Without waiting for him to respond, I shoved his shoulders to the moss. His eyes were still wide and wild, but his thighs tilted upward, thrusting into me. We both cried out as he entered me, my body embracing him, his hips rolling beneath me. I rocked back, closing my eyes. Oh, he felt good!

  But it wasn’t enough. My legs were wrapped around the most handsome man I’d ever seen, and stars, it wasn’t enough.

  I was a whore after all.

  I leaned over him, opening my eyes slowly. The dappled light made shifting patterns across the taut muscles of his naked chest and the waves of his ember colored hair; his breath came short and fast. His entire body spoke of power contained, of force waiting to be unleashed and, for a heartbeat, I thought of a thundercloud on the horizon.

  My hips began to rock without my conscious decision. One moment, I was admiring him, the next I was riding him. Heat flared through my body, sudden and insistent, crashing through me in waves from the place where our bodies joined.

  “Oh, Sol,” he moaned. His hands grabbed my hips, his grip tightening as my thrusts became more urgent, less rhythmic.

  “Demon,” I screamed. “My. Demon!”

  Deep inside, the coil in my belly grew tighter and tighter. Sweat trickled between my breasts and down the back of my neck; sweat slicked the places where our thighs met. I drove myself into him harder and harder, forcing us together. His fingers dug into my flesh, and his hips met mine, lifting me off the ground.

  My climax came like lightning, blinding me, burning me up. A second later, he screamed, and his cock, buried inside me, pulsed with his seed. I collapsed on top of him, breathing him in as our chests rose and fell together. I wondered briefly if I’d ever felt so damned good, and then
sleep swallowed me, and I thought of nothing more.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Sol?”

  I frowned as my eyelids fluttered open. The light was all wrong, as if I were outside. But why would I be outside—

  “Sol!”

  I knew that frantic, urgent voice.

  “Ma?” I murmured, forcing my eyes open.

  I was outside. I blinked, trying to focus in the heavy darkness under the trees, then glanced up. The sky was already a thick indigo. It must be a full hour after sunset; no wonder Ma was calling for me.

  I sat up and winced at a deep ache between my legs. Ah, shit. I was completely naked. I dipped my fingers between my legs and felt the thick residue of his seed. Just one more time, the demon had said. I sniffed as my useless tears welled up again.

  “Here!” I yelled. “Here, I’m coming!”

  “Sol! Hurry! Follow my lantern!”

  Ma’s voice was pinched and high. Of course. It was almost full dark, and here I was, in the Ironwood. Alone, and naked. A slow shiver ran across my shoulders as a wildly bobbing spot of orange light flashed through the trees.

  “I see your lantern,” I called. My voice wavered, and I tried to cough out the growing lump in my throat.

  One more time.

  The orange light of Ma’s lantern refracted and then shattered as the tears spilled down my cheeks.

  “Sol?” Ma screamed.

  She sounded close to panic now. Of course she was. This was the Ironwood in full darkness. Any monster or beast might be here, something that could devour me and leave nothing behind. I ran my hands across the moss until my fingertips snagged the rough fabric of my dress. With a deep sigh, I pulled it over my head.

  “Sol!”

  I stood and kicked the moss where my demon had lain. Anything at all could be hiding in the thick darkness surrounding me. An end as swift and painless as my father’s, perhaps, was waiting for me beneath these trees, ready to take me before King Nøkkyn had his chance.

  Something moved behind me, rustling branches just over my shoulder, and I froze. My heart kicked against my chest. I moved across the moss as quickly as I could, my hands raised in front of me, seeking the warm flash of Ma’s lantern. Perhaps I wasn’t quite ready for my father’s end after all.