What if We Tried

TYKE

Fucking Vym Von Crimsonian...

Several ways to behead the parasite crosses my mind as I carry my fairy to Donna's bedroom to change. I'll impale him. Two stakes: one for his body and one for his head. I'll put him on display in Central Arc...

My head cocks like clockwork when the minx breathes up my neck. "I have a little confession to tell you. When I knew you were coming, I forgot to get dressed yesterday... and left the flat."

I breathe out what I'm supposed to breathe in, the envy to stab every eyeball that saw her, graphic. "Skin is mine to see alone. I'll hunt brains for you. You'll get to pick a big one."

She giggles, and I snort. And to what? There's a toss-up between what's worse, her candidness or my irrational patience.

Speaking of patience... Vine is waiting. We have to leave. I'll get the others.

"I think I have a fever."

"For me?" I tease, pressing my lips to her forehead. She's warm, heat emanating heavily about her skin...

A glint of her cheeky teeth strikes me right down the middle. "Can only be you."

Vine can wait a few more minutes.

"Then let's sweat it out again." Gently untying her hands around my neck, I don't drop her as I usually do during foreplay. No, instead I set her down carefully, ensuring her spine uncurls gently over the sheet. She could be royalty, and that's fucking with my perception, not to mention Mordana's voice barreling through my tormented thoughts as I itch to touch my bird.

"She has two fake canines..."

The blanket unwraps this gift that keeps on giving. It even raises two beautiful sky orbs to me. "Donna won't be happy," a voice mutters under them.

"Bug, Donna's in your bed."

Barks.... I give a "Get out of here" nod, and Cerberios is fast to get the message. He leaves Donna's room, trudging heavily on his paws.

And just as quickly, Fay's skin on mine slips away, every inch growing between us, almost painful as I rise, legs pressing against the bedside, the only obstacle between her and me.

Her arms call me instantly, mine responding like a chemical reaction, fingers hankering at hers. "Stay close," she rasps. She has no idea. Fay and I... Being apart for weeks or months has never been something new, be it work or the dreaded "no ties" rule religiously enforced by Fayra.

But the situation's changed. We don't have ties; we have wires harder than stranded ropes. We're closer, let our guards down, and everything I am is for her.

Things should've become much simpler: stares with softer eyes, my touch smoother, words easier to say.

But it's getting worse. It's getting too intense, too vital. I am tethered, an invisible chain link from my chest to hers. Fay's that stream of magic that alloyed in every flesh, bone, and spirit, but now her enchantment is rigid and unbending, a raw sensation that won't let me think straight.

And I need to know who is holding my existence in its grasp.

Standing at the foot of this tiny bed, I stare at her lips and what's hidden behind them. My limbs turn heftier, drags of weight pullin' me down as I wish Fay would have a toothache right now. It'd be a goddamn excuse to explain the words I slip between my lips as my fingers hook under hers. "Bug, come here."

As expected, her knees paw the mat in my direction, submissive, obedient, and malleable... the discomfort of it crippling me to realize how heinous the world around her is. That she'll pay for it with her artless nature...

"Open your mouth for me."

This imp stretches her sly grin wide, and an uncontrollable snigger slips out of me. Bracing a knee on the bed, I pinch her cheeks for these to stay put.

My attention draws to her lower canines, an unnatural shade of white I had never noticed. Made-up ones... And why? Does she even know?!

I release her face, a chill washing over me. It drapes down my shoulders and soaks into my bones, making them rattle. "Pretty teeth. Never had a tooth broken?"

"Nope. Originals!" she says, flaunting a white enamel strip at me.

I try to keep my smile. Fay smirks back at me as I release her face.

I stay coy, grinning as she sticks her tongue out at me, scrunching up my nose playfully, scrunching up every goddamn inch of me.

She'll get hurt.

Tortured.

Used.

Die.

And I dive into her neck, taking us into a fall. Let my breath hit her skin as I kiss away my angst, terrified she might ask questions and discover who she really is, terrified someone else could.

People tend to capture wild birds so readily... The possibility of her being used mercilessly has always been on my mind since she lived such a carefree lifestyle—that she'd be caught in some sex trafficking. Only her fear of bonding with people made me feel at ease. What am I saying? I was never at ease! It pains me to think that this fear of bonding turned her into a collector of one-night stands, her desire to connect conflicting with the very thing she fears. It doesn't take a degree in psychology to figure that out, only Donna...

She'll become a target.

No! No one needs to know.

Fay tears away from me, or is it her ripping me apart as her palms push against my chest. Gathering herself, she races to my belt as I stand, hardly... "Didn't know you were into teeth," she drawls.

"I have a lot of kinks." My answer is varnished in lies, and I hate myself for it.

Yet, my muscles stiffen, my cock begging to cover her once again in cum. Round two, it is. My ear twitches at the thought of Vine throwing stones at the sky, wondering what's taking me so long.

A near-silent moan reverberates against my crotch. Fay is stroking my thigh, and I groan when she clasps my load, kneading it wickedly.

Metallic rings clash with our breaths as she unbuckles my belt.

I shut her from my vision, old words avalanching into my memory—Queen of whores, orc killer, spawn of the devil. Words my people would use to describe Fidr. Words that could reach her delicate ears. Words that could be for her...

My hand blocks her from going further. We can't be doing this. We have to leave...

Fingers still hooked on my belt, Fay slows down and tilts her head.

"I know you can take my heat, but I want to fill you whole elsewhere..."

Vine's going to throw a fit.

"Any way you want it," she purrs, a flap of her wings spraying a flurry of glitter into my face. I cough, gripped by an urge, hot and ardent, as sudden as a sting.

She whirls over the bed, landing on her fours.

Fay makes it look easy.

It's not. I'm constantly at odds with myself, driven by so much desire that it dominates me. I couldn't stop myself the first time we met. I fucked her right away, in the worst place I could have found, too—the police station toilets. I was sure my text the next day would go unanswered.

Never before have I seen so many heart emojis in one response. That morning, Cerberios's spine almost broke under the strain of my hug.

"Tyke, please don't make me miss you more than I already have." I can barely hear her as she spouts love dust, fucking dazing me.

As much as I try to keep my gaze locked on her, my eyes clench shut. Trying to resist temptation when it flies is more challenging, because the harder the catch, the greater the reward. And the moment I open my eyes again, I stifle my unborn steps, combating the urge to jump on her. Fay, standing on her hands and knees, showing me her back, my breathing shortened, not for the outline of her nascent spine, but because of what she's fluttering with intention: long blades akin to glass, polished to a sheen. Fay's moving them in streaks, caressing the distance between us. I still at the power of their movements. And when their eerie shadows fall on her curves, the fanatic in me awakens. I reach between my legs, taming a beating that's not coming from my heart. "Whatever you're doing to me, bug, please never stop."

She calls them flesh-fly winglets. I keep musing over them as she makes them flirt with her backside. "My heart's in your curves, fairy." She's bruising my brain; I can't see straight. Removing my belt and suit never felt so right, the eye of my cock gleaming at the ceiling once more, thankful.

"Well, I hope not. There ain't much to eat on me," her whisper chuckles.

"I'd eat you, anyway." Once again, words don't come out right. "I'd indulge in anything you. A simple look of you has me satiated." Maybe it's better.

Fuck, it's worse.

She knows her wings drive me over the edge. A guttural sound rises in my throat when she lifts, her wings now at every edge of my vision. I linger on her shoulder blades, soaking up the bony edges full of glint. I could smother her, so pure and untouched her skin is. I look at her while stroking myself, watching a queen who doesn't even know she's one, obeying my every desire, taking off her lingerie. For me, a barbarian, her natural enemy... It would be so easy to bend her to my will. Bring her into line with my wildest dreams, awaken her powers, conquer Faerhan, restore Orcana to its previous glory...

She turns her smug smile to me and, twirling her panties in a twin of fingers, flings them at me. They slip down my stupid smirk before I catch them, inhaling the scent of her arousal.

Her smell... it strikes me every time. How she's mine, how I know it deep inside me. Faefolk may not have a calling, yet every bone in my body tells me it's her. My mate.

Mine.

"Everything that makes you belongs to me, every patch of blue defying my eyes, every speckle of glitter lasting under my fingertips, your sweet little cunt..."

"All yours," she murmurs, peering over a wing. This one flicks, as if luring me.

And it works.

Exposing her backside, Fay thinks I want to stuff my cock in her, orkishly, slave-like. I won't. Flipping her over, I confront her, eager to watch her come as she cries in my mouth the name I want to forever hear from her.

I lean over her, glints of frost-like freckles luring me down to her lips.

Hushed chuckles tumble between us.

Her hips begin to move.

And I respond, moving mine in time with hers.

Little hands unstrap the velcro of my bulletproof jacket and struggle to pass it over my head, so I help her.

"Let me do it."

"It's okay, Fay." I reach over my back for a fistful of this thick pad, my left side stinging as I plank over her.

Even so, Fay becomes fussy when I hitch it over my head. "I'll do it."

Okay...

I am cut off from her breasts as a wave of black veils my vision, and I become unhinged, not because of the absence of her bare skin, but because of her scent. And the longer she shuffles with my jacket, the more her musky fragrance envelops us, the sting of a wound that should have stabbed me no longer existent. She smells like coffee and sugar, like the Immortal shrubs that used to circle our village. Sha, there's never been a distance between her and home...

I watch her expression wane as a fluttering fingertip lingers around my Vine-made bandage. "Did you kill the bastard, at least?"

"Fay..." My mind cannot accept Mordana's label of a bastard... I muster some reassurance, my lips cracking into what I think is a smile. "All dead."

She exhales heavily, and I wish she would get back into the game. I trap her arm between my jaws, sliding down a ring of tusks. She moans as my tongue licks and slopes to her wrist. Her skin lifts, hair pricking my tongue, rasping everything up.

I don't want to fuck her this time. I want to worship her in bed... That's what I want.

A tug on my hair makes my crazed eyes dart up to hers.

"Don't come inside," she reminds, choking back a smile.

Something in that look of hers makes me go still. I need to floss my mind for the shit stirring inside it. What if she'd bear my child... An Orfea...

Caging her between my elbows, I muse, "What if we tried..."

My girl's eyes widen, every muscle contracting. "Us?"

My world is in tatters right now, my brain corrupted by the weapon she embodies.

I shake off the idea. My mind might be in chaos, but my heart is steady. "Later. There will be plenty of time when you're ready."

She's blushing. Katash'ger Tyl, she's beautiful. I press my lips to her nose.

The way she stares back at me, puzzled.

Not used to finding me unrushed.

Soft.

Even as I rake through her hair, even as my hands don't go rogue, she keeps on staring, her eyes searching.

I don't have any answers for her—none of that would make sense. Words will never be enough, in this world or in another.

"Tyke..." Her small voice shoots an arrow through my ribs, lending itself to my ever-growing collection.

"Bug?" I cradle her head as if holding a snowflake, accepting my father's ghost giving up on me. "A true warrior bears no interest or dependence on the most harmful drug: women." Coming from a man whose mate was his driving force, deliberately not paying attention to his twenty-three other females, shows we might have been the same in more ways than one.

"There's an orc boy I know..." My kiss on the edge of her lips, I listen, "whose heart I fell in, and I, no matter what, never want to climb out of it." Oh, sweet Fay. Less than an hour with her, and she's already thrown me off my equilibrium twice. At this moment, thrice.

How many times have I mulled over my existence? Probably a thousand times, and each time, the same conclusion was drawn. Not worth a dime, not in this world. But when my eyes set on Fay, she had already unfucked me, and all it had taken was a blink. Gods, she did.

My hand curls around her chin until the only eyes that ever looked at me straight glint into mine.

"Know this, fairy. Not one breath goes by without me thinking about you. You want to know why?"

Fay falters, keeping a motionless gaze. "Why?"

"Because each time..." I murmur, my kisses raining over her. They won't stop, nor will my fingers twisting around hers. And the quickening of my pulse, an unknown fever taking over, more than sexual, less than not, deeper than I don't fucking know...

"Tyke, because what?" Can't prevent tingles attacking me, electricity charges aggressing the very core of my being. Every contact, stroke, the heat of her being... as accurate as her fingerprints matching my soul's DNA, my boundaries with her long time screwed...

And I'm afraid.

Afraid because I know I will perish if I lose touch with the entity breathing under me.

"Bear? Because of what?" She's blushing. Maybe she can hear the quiet roar of my heart—I wouldn't be surprised. It's been thrumming in my ears ever since I leaped off Magnus's back.

"You put my heart to the grind. My chest is in shambles, thanks to you. And think you deserve a spanking for all this suffering." There's a short but not startled pause before she brings her cupped hand to my face, a smirk dressing her voice. "Dork."

Agreed. The dork in question mollifies to her touch, knowing by now I would've been the scapegoat of my tribe. I lean my cheek against her arm while she brushes a strand behind my ear. Shit... If I could purr, I'd be the loudest cat in the room.

I pour down on her, pressing my lips against what feels like fruit pulp, and I marvel at the sparkles cladding her skin, fucking succumbing.

A little hand grasps at a nipple ring, the tug getting my growling going. "Harder."

"Harder?" Fay yanks them, and I fall on her, my arms flat on either side of her head, lifting me enough not to crush her.

"Harder..." I whisper to the mouth I'm devouring.

"Got a better idea for you." With an impish glare, she shuffles a little before disappearing under me.

Already craving her, I can't help groaning, "Where d'you think you're going?"

And... fuck me. Shivers won't course over me. I hold them with a hand of steel. But hell, are they sparing me no effort when a tongue slips inside a ring's loop, roller-coasting about the gold rim. My... I want to bite my knuckles so bad.

"Fay..." Husk, hoarse, my voice is in bits, every atom of mine blowing in a hurricane type-6 as her little hand clamps at the chain attached to my rings.

But somehow, I get creative. My index drags over her pussy lips, etching deeper at her every convulsion. And while I combust, my mind teems with everything pink, ripe, and delectable. As her hips press against my groin, I lose control and plunge a finger—change of heart—two fingers inside her.

Teeth still clamped on my nipple ring, she groans.

And I fucking burn.

"Calm down, fairy..." I rasp against her tongue. "Stay still." I reach a hot, pulsing bundle of nerves, swollen, more than needy... wet. My unrestraint roughens the edge of my voice, probably because of all those lips I'm moored into.

Claws in my hair, she beds my face deeper into hers; the fact is, I'm already sucked on her mouth, unable to feel anything other than her.

"Filthy orc, taking your time..." Fay breaks a hand through our merged bodies, tingling my groin as she meets me between her legs. Coiling her grip around my hand, she's forcing me to enter her, but I resist.

Fay's tongue bridges a thin gap that managed to exist between us, right up to my gums, ringing my bell with an uppercut lick. "Torture me," she mutters.

"Bug." I lower my chin, bleeding inside as I remember my dream of Fay being brutalized on an altar. The notion of torture is becoming too real for me to contemplate. "You drive me crazy."