17. Arrick

Chapter seventeen

Arrick

W e lay there for a long while, still connected, limbs twined.

I'm still inside her. We are dirty, sweaty, and sticky, but very satisfied.

My body is still on top of hers, her warm skin pressed to mine, and I can feel the rise and fall of her chest as she catches her breath. Things outside have gone quiet now. The shrieks are barely audible, and the ground no longer shakes.

I stare down at her beautiful, flushed face, her dark curls sticking to the sides of her cheeks. I brush them away with my hands. I lean down and kiss her soft, slightly swollen lips gently.

My heart feels like it will bust with her in my arms. I want to lie here forever, staring at her, caressing her softness. I lean down close and whisper. "Thank you."

She smiles brightly up at me and then brings me back down for another kiss.

"You're not upset?"

"Why would I be upset? That was the best thing to ever happen to me."

She giggles a bit at my enthusiasm.

"I mean, because it was your first time, and it wasn't perfect."

"Who says it wasn't perfect? Any moment I can be buried inside you or have my hands and mouth on you is a perfect moment."

Her cheeks blush a dark maroon, and I dance my fingers over the flushed skin.

"I think they're gone. Should we walk back to camp, maybe clean up a bit?" she says. As she shifts under me, our sticky bodies make noises one could only describe as obscene.

"If that is what you want. I'll take any opportunity to be around you—naked."

She blushes again, and I wonder if she is shy about her body. She didn't strip before she got into the water earlier, opting to wade in fully clothed before stripping and washing.

She shouldn't be shy. I love her round hips and thick, curvy ass. I want to dig my fingers into the flesh just thinking about it. I will tell her how much I love her body every chance I get.

We separate, to my dismay. I immediately mourn the absence of her heat. The cool night drains me of her warmth. I brush my hands over my chest and touch nothing but cold skin .

Parting our way through the rhododendron bush, I grab her hand, clasping to any bit of her I can. We walk back to camp hand-in-hand, bathed in silver moonlight.

The second appearance of the harpies has me highly concerned. Their presence puzzles me, and they seem to hunt for something. It's different from the other creatures. This seems purposeful. I still imagine the cast of their forms in the silver night sky, and a chill creeps up my spine.

We make it back to camp. Yera picks her wet clothes out of the water where she left them in our haste to move. She lays them flat on a rock near the firepit and then walks back into the water, sighing.

I make a quick fire and then return to the spring to join her. I watch the dirt and debris float off my skin when I sink into the water.

She's sitting on a rock ledge with her legs pressed to her chest, almost protectively. I hope she isn't sinking again. I sit next to her and hoist her onto my lap.

"Everything okay up there?"

I gesture at her head. She smiles and rests it on my shoulder.

"Yes, I'm fine. I was wondering if I might need to take something. Like a tonic, if it exists."

"What kind of tonic do you need? Are you hurt? I have more of the powder I used on you when you had the bite—"

She cuts me off.

"No, nothing like that. I meant more like something to keep me from getting pregnant,." she says, shifting nervously on my thighs. Realization dawns on me.

"Yes, of course. You're actually already protected."

"Wait, how? That makes little sense."

"The hangover tea you drank protects you from pregnancy for a full moon cycle. "

"Holy shit." She laughs. "That's the best thing I've ever heard: a hangover cure and birth control all in one. Why the hell don't we have that in my world?"

"It's not that easy where you come from?"

"No, not really. There are pills you can take, but they have side effects. There are things you can wear on your body to protect you directly, but those dull sensations. It's not a great system."

Agreed. Anything that would make my lovely Yera sick sparks rage in me.

The night crawls on. We stay in the spring for a bit longer, until Yera yawns and rubs her eyes. After much protest, I manage to convince her to leave the spring. Selfishly, I follow her body from behind as she walks out of the water.

The curve from her narrow back and waist to the swell of her ass, hips, and thighs has my cock hardening. Then I am undone when she slings my extra shirt over her frame.

The hem of the shirt dances at the tops of her legs, enhancing her resplendent beauty and discreetly hiding her backside.

Her body is still wet from the spring and shimmering in the moonlight. Her curls bounce off her scalp, swaying in the light night air. She is in my shirt, getting her sent all over it. I'll never rewash it.

The fire is dully flickering over red heated coals. I walk over to check how dry our clothes are to find them still soaking. Shit, I hope they dry by tomorrow. I grimace as I add more logs, reigniting the flames. If we're lucky, there will be sufficient heat to dry our clothes by morning.

She walks around camp, fussing with the wet clothes and popping a few juicy red berries we found on the trail into her mouth. She is still making sleepy yawns, and I want to force her to lie down. Part of it is selfishness. I want to lie in the blankets with my arms around her and my face buried in her wild curls .

The night is ambient around us. Firelight dances off her frame across the campsite.

She finishes doing whatever she is doing and starts walking over to me. Then she pauses—terror in her eyes. I quickly move to reach her when something picks her up and lifts her into the air, as silent as death.

I see nothing but her face and arms reaching for me before whatever it is scoops her into the night sky. Two sets of metallic talons grip her by the waist. She is gone before I can blink, before I can think .