"How's the gnocchi?" Tyler asked as Lucy chewed another mouthful of the fat, squashy dumplings.
"It's amazing," she said thickly, reaching up to brush a dribble of marinara sauce from her lower lip. The smile he gave her in return was hesitant, and she wondered if she was devouring her dinner a little too enthusiastically. Earlier that night, she had fished out an old size 6 dress from the back of her closet; the black one she had worn on their second date. The zipper had needed a little urging near the top, and after wolfing down her salad and some garlic bread, the seams felt a bit tighter. Maybe...maybe she should slow down. She set down her fork and smoothed her napkin pensively over her lap, trying to concentrate on flattening the wrinkles instead of the deliciousness of her dinner. "This place seems familiar," she mused.
"Of course it does," Tyler said cheerfully. "This is where I took you for our first date. And as of tonight, that was--"
"Oh my god," Lucy gasped, feeling the color drain from her face. "Tonight is our fifth anniversary." Tyler chewed quietly on a rubbery bit of shrimp, casting his eyes down towards the tablecloth. "I'm a horrible person," she choked. "Oh, Ty. I'm so, so sorry. I had so many things planned for us to do on our fifth, but I've been distracted with work and everything..."
"Hey, hey, hey. Slow down, Lu," he said soothingly, setting his elbows on the table so he could lean in a little closer to her. "Tonight's about us--it's not a big deal that you forgot some traditional couple bullshit. All that matters is that we're here. I know the past year has been weird, but I wanted to do something special to celebrate getting through it together. It wasn't easy, but we did it." He lifted his beer bottle and she mimicked the action with her vodka cranberry. "To resilience," he announced, and the chime of glass on glass followed.
"Yeah," Lucy mumbled around the mouth of her glass once they had pulled away. "Resilience."
"So, what's been going on with work? You've seemed stressed lately. Is it--"
"Joe? God, yes, it's fucking Joe. It's always Joe." The tiny straw in her beverage left a tail of ripples in its wake as she dragged it restlessly through the pink liquid. "That asshole wants me to manage the Johnson project too, now. Like I'm not already in charge of the research for two other companies." She leaned back in her chair, gazing hopelessly at the ceiling. "When I looked for a job in advertising, I think I underestimated the number of slack-jawed idiots I'd have to interview about airbags and travel mugs."
"Then what did you expect?" he asked wryly.
"I don't know. Something more glamorous," she teased. "Like Mad Men. I'd sip whiskey and smolder at the cameras whenever I talked on the telephone, and all my assistants would be sexy twenty-one-year-olds with snappy shirts and european-cut khakis." She waggled her eyebrows at him hopefully, but he was staring moodily into his beer bottle.
"Sexy twenty-one-year-olds, huh?" he grumbled. Lucy's face contorted into a reproachful glare.
"Stop it. It was a joke and you know it." His nostrils flared as he took in a slow, steadying breath, and while he let it out, he ran his fingers through his wavy chestnut-brown hair. He must have gotten it cut and styled today, she realized. It seemed more artfully tousled than his usual rumpled mane. And...shinier? That was odd. Ty wasn't the type of guy who spent more than five minutes combing his hair, let alone put product in it...
"I'm sorry, Lu. But I just..." He paused and took a rather violent swig of his beer, wiping his mouth roughly on his sleeve after he swallowed. "We've talked about this. It's not...respectful."
"Respectful?" she asked loudly, and the couple at the next table over turned to stare. "Wow. Tell me: how respectful were you being when you took that girl at your office out to dinner three months ago...?"
"That was work-related--"
"Yeah, work-related sushi downtown. Alone. Until eleven."
"I understand that that might have been a breach of trust--"
"I bet that wasn't the only thing you breached."
"Are we really doing this now?" he asked helplessly, gripping a frustrated handful of that too-shiny, freshly-trimmed hair. "I thought we were done with this. Tonight was supposed to be..." He trailed off, letting the sentence hang in between them like a wrecking ball poised to swing. Lucy sighed angrily, but then reached forward to grip his hand in hers.
"I'm sorry, Ty. I won't talk about well-dressed college students," she said, offering him a little smile. He returned it weakly, inclining his head in rueful acceptance.
"And if you do, I'll try not to feel threatened," he replied dully.
"You shouldn't. I'm sure you can pull off tight dress pants just as well as they can."
"Maybe I'll add some to my wardrobe."
"How are we feeling about dessert?" the waiter asked brightly, appearing with an uncanny suddenness near Lucy's chair. She jerked at the spontaneity of his arrival, but then shrugged.
"As conflicted as always, I guess," she admitted. Tyler gave her hand a firm squeeze.
"We have other plans for dessert," he said. Lucy's eyes widened. It wasn't typical of him to take over like that, but...she kind of liked this in-charge attitude. "I'd like the check. Unless," he continued, his eyes drifting towards Lucy's plate, "you aren't finished...?"
"Get it away from me," she declared quickly, shoving the plate a few inches forward. "I'd like a box, though," she added as the waiter's hands drifted down to retrieve it from her.
"Sure thing." And then, just as suddenly as he had appeared, he vanished.
"He's way too efficient," Lucy whispered. Tyler laughed.
About an hour later, they were strolling through a nearby park. Tyler's hands were tucked into his pockets, and Lucy was spinning next to him, giddy from one too many vodka cocktails.
"It's beautiful out tonight," she sighed, looping a hand through his arm so she could clutch his sleeve as they walked. "Did you plan this, having a summer anniversary...?"
"I wanted to ask you sooner, but I held out," he agreed solemnly. Lucy giggled, immediately ashamed by how high-pitched it was. The sweetness of the summer air and the heady smell of fresh roses was making her feel slightly unhinged. A flutter of cool air made the hem of her dress brush against her thigh, and she felt sixteen again; perched on the hood of her friend's car and talking about simpler things, like clothes and grades and curfews. They finally scaled the small hill, and suddenly they were overlooking a vast pond that was filled with stunningly white lilypads and a small family of ducks. A charming wooden bridge scaled the length of it, the rails carved into quaint spirals that caught the twilight and cast wickedly spindly shadows onto the ground beside it.
He seemed to pause as they reached the top of the hill, and despite the gloriousness of the scene before her, Lucy was overtaken by a certain sort of trepidation. "Do you remember this place?" he murmured, and the feeling only grew as the answer found its way into her throat.
"This is where we met, isn't it?" she whispered. "I was sketching under that tree, and you were--"
"Walking Charlie, yeah," he agreed, grinning. "He shoved his nose right up your skirt before I could call him back."
"That dog got to second base before you did," she laughed, but there was a sinking feeling weighing down her stomach. "Babe, what are you...?" He wriggled out from her grasp and sank onto his knees, and she felt her eyes grow wide with horror. "Oh, Tyler," she breathed. "Oh, Ty, no..."
"Lucy," he said, a quiver in his voice, "I know we've been through a lot this year..."
"Wait," she begged, but he quickly took her hands in his and kissed the knuckles, his green eyes wide and pleading.
"It really has been a lot," he admitted. "We were so close to ending everything, and that made me think--"
"Ty..."
"--about the prospect of losing you. You mean the world to me, Lucy Clark, and living without you...that was more than I could bear. You're something inevitable to me--and I mean that in the best way. You're like coffee before work, or hot cocoa on a snow day. You just make life more bearable, and I need you. I don't think I'll ever stop needing you." Lucy's brown eyes began to brim with tears, and he withdrew one of his hands to fish fervently in his pockets. When it came back into view, it was clutching a tiny red box. He released her hands to open it, and a brilliant diamond caught the glow of the setting sun, sending a glittering halo of light onto the grass. "Lucy," he whispered, "will you marry me?"
The park was very silent after that, broken only by the chirp of crickets and the steady percussion of the trickling brook.
"Are you finished," Lucy finally asked hoarsely, "or would you like to compare me to more beverages?" His face seemed to slacken with grief and disbelief, and she tried to hide the pain from her expression as her heart shattered into a thousand pieces. "What are you doing, Ty?" she urged, clutching her mop of straight, shiny red hair frantically with both hands. "Fuck. Just last month, you were living with your mother..."
"I had to move out," he protested weakly. "You were threatening to break up with me if I didn't leave--"
"That's not the point. We were fighting, we almost called it quits for good. And now you're trying to marry me?" She shut her eyes tight and pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation, trying to fight back tears. "Did you think this was going to fix it? That putting a ring on my finger would just make the last six months vanish?"
"Lucy, it's been five years! You wouldn't stay with me that long if you didn't want--where the hell are you going?!" he shouted as she began to stride quickly down the hill.
"This is insane," she yelled back. "I'm going for a walk, alone. Come home when you've gotten this out of your system, and we can eat ice cream and watch South Park and pretend that this never happened..."
"But it's getting late, and the park..." She broke into a run as his voice seemed to grow nearer, and she heard him growl in frustration. "Jesus, Lu! Don't pull this runaway bride bullshit...!"
"I'M NOT YOUR FUCKING BRIDE!" she screamed. Her ankles wobbled precariously in her four-inch heels as she ran, but she managed to scramble into a thick cluster of trees without snapping any bones or twisting any joints.
"I have the car keys, Lucy!" she heard him groan, and she waited with baited breath until she heard him pass the tiny grove. Then, with the stealth and precision of Kung-Fu movie ninjas, she dove out from her hiding place and scurried towards the man-made pond. Her heels clacked briefly on a thin ring of concrete as she made her way towards the area beneath the bridge, fumbling with her purse as she searched for her pack of cigarettes, tears springing to her eyes. This was happening so fast. So fast. She needed to be alone. She needed to think...
She finally ducked under the bridge and knelt to creep into a wide tunnel beneath it, her heels skidding slightly in the slimy water that was coursing through it. It was very dark, but a few sparse lights glowed from the ceiling. A flash from her lighter illuminated her surroundings a little more, revealing hasty swirls of graffiti and lines of names written in a column in Sharpie. Thankfully, the area seemed quiet. One of her eyebrows arched as she surveyed the area, taking a long drag from her cigarette. She certainly hadn't expected the drain to be this massive, or this long. So, wielding her cigarette, she ventured slowly into its depths.
Many minutes later, she found herself at a small fork. On one side, the tunnel cut off into a wall that trickled water through a skinny little drain, but on the other, a stone tunnel led into a strange, circular cavern. Parts of the ground beneath her were littered with discarded cigarettes and old, broken beer bottles, but as she continued forward, the litter seemed to vanish. The cavern was dry and free of any sort of vermin and, to her surprise, lit by a single fluorescent light that flickered weakly on the side of the wall. An isolated, underground room like this probably should have been covered by a thick layer of urban trash from various delinquents, but it seemed somewhat clean. In the center, a forgotten concrete slab sat alone on the stone floor. Every few feet or so, a variety of feeble flora sprang through the rocks in a shock of green and tender leaves. She slumped wearily onto the concrete slab, burying her face in her hands. Tyler's voice, calling her name incessantly, echoed dimly from the tunnel entrance, but as she waited, that too seemed to dissipate, leaving her alone with the trickling water and the strange little plants.
"I don't think I can do this anymore," she finally said in a tiny whisper, finishing up her cigarette and staring sadly at the floor as she flicked it away. A fat, quivering tear escaped the corner of her eye and began to slide down her cheek, and she quickly rubbed it away, feeling completely defeated. She and Tyler had been through a volatile sort of relationship, and even though they had both managed to forgive each other when he moved back in last month, the prospect of marrying him filled her with dread. It would be hard to kick someone out of your life when they shared your finances, the title of your house, and pretty much half of anything you owned. For Christ's sake. What the hell had he been thinking...?
"Who dares--" a terribly deep voice began suddenly from behind her, echoing richly throughout the room, and she promptly threw her leftovers towards the source of the noise. They fell with a loud crash, and the voice seemed to silence in disbelief.
"Go away," she snapped, burying her face in her hands. "Jesus Christ, if you're going to be creepy, just take my purse and go." A looming shadow fell over her, and despite her glumness, a twinge of terror made her voice falter as she spoke again. "I'm warning you," she continued, "I have pepper spray..."
"You are trespassing," the voice said delicately, and her spine stiffened when she realized that it was almost directly behind her. "Why have you come? Did you hear rumors of a monster in the tunnels? Did you want to see it?"
"What are you talking abou--" she began irritably, turning to face the voice, and then she felt the color drain from her face.
Crouched over her was a massive being maybe twice her size, with mottled green skin and a long, almost fluffy mane of black hair that seemed to travel down in a tapering stripe to the middle of his bare back. His enormous hands were braced on the concrete slab she was sitting on so that their faces were level, and each finger was topped with a sharp, wickedly curved nail that gradated to black at the tip. Long, curling horns, like a ram's, spiraled out from his temples. His eyes were bright in the gloom, gold with wide pupils and flecked with spots of black--almost like a frog's eyes. But frogs didn't have pairs of knife-like incisors that jutted out from their lower lip like he did, the points of them ending just below his long, sculpted nose. His eyes narrowed angrily as they met hers, and his upper lip curled in contempt, giving her a glimpse of more sharp, strong white teeth.
"Satisfied?" he snarled. "Take a good look. It might very well be the last thing you see." Lucy stared at him in horror for several minutes, but then her eyes squinted shut against another flood of drunken tears and she turned to sob wordlessly into her hands. He watched quietly, and an uncomfortable silence bloomed between them, punctured only by her sobs.
"I really don't understand what I've done to deserve all of this," she finally choked out, disgusted by the high-pitched whine that tainted her words. "All I wanted was a nice dinner with my stupid boyfriend, and now everything's falling apart and I'm about to get eaten, and my gnocchi is probably ruined," she continued in a horrified wail, pressing a hand to her lips and staring up at him through eyes blurry with tears. "I...I don't know why that part bothers me so much," she admitted shakily. "B-but I don't do anything awful. I'm not a bad person. I don't know if I'm a good person, but I'm definitely not evil, and this kind of night should only happen to evil, evil people..."
"Wait," he began, his expression softening, but she just shook her head violently and continued to spew nonsense at him.
"I don't know. Maybe I am evil. Maybe he's a great guy and I'm just being horrible to him. It's...it's just that...it should feel better. I should be happier when I'm with him, and I'm not. Sometimes I don't know if I even like him. He's so awful sometimes, and I can't help but think--"
Suddenly, he jerked forward to cut her off with a fierce kiss, stealing her words into his mouth. His lips weren't rubbery at all, she realized, despite their dark, glistening texture. Quite the contrary, they were like warm, oiled silk; practically liquid and all-consuming in their size. His protruding teeth brushed against her cheeks as his massive mouth moved hungrily over hers, and she felt her entire body melt into a delighted puddle. Which was...odd, considering the circumstances. He pulled away after several moments, his eyes now hooded with a content sort of laziness.
"You don't sound evil," he told her, his face still only inches from hers. "But you are very loquacious." She brought a finger up to touch her lips, feeling the wet heat from his kiss lingering on her skin. It had been a while since anyone had kissed her quite like that.
"I'm sorry," she breathed, staring slackly at his lips. "I'm a little drunk."
"I can smell it all over you," he agreed, inclining his head in a solemn nod.
"...Are you going to eat me?" she asked quietly after a pause.
"I think I like you," he said. His lips parted into a wide smile, made all the more terrifying by the length of his teeth and the underbite of his tusk-like incisors. "You're quite pretty, and the way you fret is adorable."
"I'm not fretting," she retorted, feeling her cheeks heat up. He let out a low chuckle, and she let her eyes roam over him. The broadness of his shoulders was accentuated by a thick layer of hard muscle that seemed to cover his entire body, and the black ridges of his horns caught the dim lights lustrously. Once she got a better look at him, she realized that the line of his jaw was chiseled and pleasantly angular, and his chin curved into an attractive point. His arms were taut and strong looking and utterly, utterly large.
"It isn't polite to stare," she heard him murmur, and her eyes strayed from the rigid hollow of his throat and darted back to his face. He looked faintly annoyed.
"No, no, it isn't like that," she assured him, shaking her head hastily. "You're just...very good-looking, for a monster."
"A troll," he corrected her gently, apparently mollified. For some reason, that admission made her situation seem much more real, and she swallowed.
"A troll," she echoed in a weak voice. They both were quiet for several minutes, and Lucy listened to the trickling of the drainwater as she stared uncertainly at her new acquaintance: this possibly bloodthirsty troll who had declared a fondness for her only minutes after meeting her. "You can kiss me again, if you want," she finally decided. He cocked his head to the side in response, watching her curiously. "It felt nice," she admitted, shifting a little closer to him. "And, well..." She bit her lip, her fingers folding in her lap. "...I think kissing someone would be good for me right now."
He raised his head a little, brushing the tip of his large, chiseled nose against hers, and something about the gesture sent a jolt through her stomach. Then he dipped forward, closing the sparse distance between their mouths and pressing his lips gently against hers. Shivering, she hesitantly entwined her arms around his thick neck, pulling him closer and enjoying the searing heat that was radiating from his bare skin. Tufts of his mane swallowed up her arms as she tightened them in a squeeze. In response, he brought a large hand up to frame her jaw. A row of wicked nails played lightly across her flesh. The cavern was silent save for the trickling of water and the soft, wet sounds of their kissing, and Lucy clasped him against her desperately as his mouth opened slowly beneath hers. A big, clever tongue probed hopefully against her lips and she opened them obediently, her shoulders drooping lazily as the tip of it swept her mouth. She coaxed it in further, stroking its underside with her own tongue and feeling utterly weak as it filled her mouth hungrily. To her disappointment, he suddenly withdrew it and pulled away, leaving her shaking and unfulfilled.
"I believe I enjoy kissing you," he admitted after a moment, and delight swelled in her chest when she noticed the faint tremor in his voice.
"I like kissing you, too," she told him. His muddy-green eyelids fluttered shut as she leaned forward and nibbled insistently on his lower lip, and his vast body seemed to quiver with anticipation when he knelt to kiss her again--a little harder this time, but still tentative, as if he was frightened she might break. A thick set of fingers moved behind her to fumble with the zipper of her black strapless dress, and her spine tensed a little in surprise when he slid it open, baring her shoulders and a long expanse of her back. But then a broad green thumb stroked the length of bared skin in a trail of heat, and her body disintegrated back into a silly mass of wobbly jelly.
"I want to see you," he implored, drawing back a little and watching her hopefully. She paused for a bit, staring up at him with thinly-veiled uncertainty, but finally rose to her feet in a determined sort of way and wriggled slowly out of her dress. His pitch-black pupils seemed to dilate as the slinky dress shimmied down her hips and puddled into a heap around her ankles, and those golden eyes raked greedily over the curved outline of her bare flesh. She was only wearing a pair of black panties underneath it, and his gaze seemed to stop at the lacy valley between her thighs. "Delightful," he rumbled.
A flutter of happiness exploded in her belly at his approval, but then he was touching her shoulders and gently pushing her back against the concrete slab. She obeyed his movements and wiggled back to perch on the edge of it, her lips parting as his hands moved to grasp her legs and slide down the length of them. They stopped at her ankles and gingerly plucked off her spiky heels, and he seemed to smile when he saw her dainty toes. They looked hopelessly tiny next to his hands. Now that she could see more of him, she noticed that, although his chest was bare, his hips were clad in a pair of slightly worn black trousers. There was a generous bulge straining against the area between his hard thighs, and her eyebrows raised. Oh.
"Do you want me to take these off?" she asked in an unsteady whisper, her fingers hooking into the hem of her panties. He nodded vigorously, and her lips twitched into a shy, excited smile as she shifted to wriggle out of them. Her movements seemed to elicit a slight jiggle that traveled up from the swell of her thighs to the lush arch of her bosom, and she saw his eyes ignite with need while he watched her. As soon as the lacy fabric fell limply to the ground, his enormous mouth descended upon her with an almost terrifying sort of enthusiasm. His lips found her toes first, nibbling sweetly at each plump, berry-like digit. Then he moved to her legs, covering the length of them in deep, slow kisses as he ascended to her thighs, which parted weakly for him at his approach. Her whole body was drowning in heat, bringing a hectic flush to the pale curve of her cheeks.
She reached out and buried her fingers in the mass of his black mane, clutching its softness and urging him on. While his lips moved ravenously against her tender thighs, his hands clutched the hourglass of her waist, feeling her skin and tightening their grip as she tugged pleadingly at his hair.
Suddenly, he stood and lifted her high into the air, prying her legs apart with his long, crooked fingers. He opened her like she was an oyster and her legs were the shell, lurching forward to lap up the tender, sweet pearl between her thighs. His tongue was feverishly warm against her clit, and she clutched desperately at his fingers as his lips closed against her in a slow kiss, the entirety of her sex enveloped by his hot, wet mouth. He shifted her so her ass was cupped in the palms of his hands, tilting her hips towards his lips to drink deeply of her. Through the haze of longing that was nearly blinding her, she saw his gold-flecked eyes close contentedly. A hot, tremulous sensation was invading her body and possessing her legs, and his thumbs moved firmly in front of her thighs to keep them in place as they began to squeeze shut on their own accord. His tongue chased her relentlessly as she writhed in his hands, desperate little noises squeaking out of her throat.
"Please, Mister Troll," she gasped deliriously, feeling utterly ridiculous as she spoke. She still wasn't quite sure what to call him.
"Sylvus," he slurred against her, extending his tongue to lash wetly at her clit once he had finished speaking.
"Sylvus," she repeated shakily. Then she squirmed as he dragged his full mouth up the length of her body and circled the tip of one of her nipples with his black tongue. Something warm and thick was uncoiling inside of her, and she reached up to grip his spiraling ram's horns as he gently drew her breast into the searing wetness of his mouth. He moved to the other after several moments, nibbling gingerly at the peaked nipple before taking that into his mouth as well and suckling it leisurely. It elicited a slow tugging sensation that coursed down her body and bloomed in between her thighs, which were still slick from the wickedness of his tongue. "I-I'm Lucy," she whispered, releasing her hold on his horns as he moved his mouth to her throat, his heavy breathing a gorgeous rush in her ears.
"Lucy," he said against her neck. His voice was so deep that she could feel it vibrating in her belly, and the way he said her name sent a tremor shooting up her spine. Her eyelids fluttered shut as he moved his huge mouth fluidly against her skin, and she felt her arms erupt into a mass of goosebumps when he nipped the flesh gently. Then he was trailing large, wet kisses down the length of her body, tightening his grip on her unruly thighs as he settled himself in between them and engulfed her once again with the luxurious heat of his mouth.
She leaned forward and gripped tight handfuls of his fluffy black mane, her knuckles white. He responded with an unintelligible moan, those cruel lips still mouthing and kissing gently. Then his broad tongue slid up the length of her lips and paused at her entrance, the tip squirming into her passage before it began to dive in and out of her in a slow, hypnotic tempo. Immense teeth nibbled playfully at her skin, and the feeling of his breath on her pale, sensitive flesh was making moisture trickle down her thighs like legs on a fine wine. Every inch of her was starting to tighten. Her breath was caught like a fluttering moth in her chest, jittery and pounding at her ribcage. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop," she moaned frantically, tugging on his mane and urging his hot, silky tongue to flood deeper into her.
When she came seconds later, gasping for breath, his fingers clenched rapturously behind her and scraped thick nails delicately over her skin. She twitched as he withdrew his tongue and drew his lips together in another warm, velvety kiss that blanketed her sex, inhaling richly as he did it, like he was cherishing her scent. He lowered into a crouch and tipped her delicately onto the floor in front of him, and she wobbled as she struggled for balance. While they were inconvenient, she wished for the extra inches her heels had offered her. Without them, the top of her head probably didn't even come up to his ribcage.
Her breathing was finally beginning to level, and somewhere near her bosom, she saw his hardness bulging against his trousers. She leaned forward and ran her hands over it slowly, cupping each side in her palms, and she gave it a gentle, longing squeeze before pressing her lips against the fabric, looking up at him curiously with wide eyes as she did. He was growing harder beneath her hands, and when their eyes met, his jaw seemed to slacken in awe. She drew back a few steps as he began to fumble with the fastenings of his trousers impatiently, finally sliding them down and stepping out of them. Immediately after they fell into a heap around his ankles, her eyes widened.
She stared down at his exposed erection, a tingle of dread seeping from her chest and all the way into the tips of her fingers. It was olive-hued and nearly the width of one of her calves, as well as textured with even rows of dark, nubby studs. It was also almost as long as her arm. All in all, it looked like some terrifying sex toy that one could find on the darker side of the internet, and she wasn't quite sure that there was any part of her body it could fit into.
"Is something wrong?" he inquired, kneeling down and reaching those colossal hands out to cup her buttocks and draw her closer.
"I'm starting to have doubts," she said in a tiny voice, allowing herself to be dragged forward and tripping uncertainly on the stone floor. But as daunting as her situation was, she felt herself kneel down in front of him, her lips parting curiously. "Can I...?" she asked hesitantly, and he let out a sound of acquiescence. She pressed her lips to the tip in a lingering kiss, a flutter of excitement bubbling in her stomach as she felt the organ twitch. Her lips slid open so she could run her tongue up his length, closing her eyes to savor his taste. Her tongue swirled around his head, lapping up the pearls of moisture that had appeared on top of it, and then she opened her mouth and took the very tip of him in between her lips, suckling it gently. That made him take in a shuddering breath, those clawed fingers clutching a handful of her long, red hair. Then she moved to the base, moving her lips slowly and silkily over the tender length of his underside.
"That's for you, Lucy," he said in that deep, slow voice, his fingers tangling into her hair to pull her forward and press her mouth against the side of his erection. Lucy's stomach leapt into her throat. "All for you..."
"But...you're so big," she protested, quivering a bit as he moved his hands to her waist to lift her towards him.
"And you are very small," he agreed softly, holding her in front of him and raking his eyes greedily over her body. "And very, very wet," he added excitedly, teasing the tip of his index finger into her dewy passage, his middle finger following soon after. Together, they were probably twice the size of anything that had ever entered her before, and she gripped his thumb pleadingly in her palm as he began to slide them gingerly in and out of her. The pain was quickly swallowed up by a breathtakingly full sensation, however, and she felt herself go pleasantly limp. She barely even noticed as he lowered himself onto the ground in a sitting position, leaning his back against the wall. Once he seemed to think that she was adequately prepared, he withdrew his fingers and lowered her down towards his hips. She shuddered as he fit her onto the tip of his cock, spreading her legs wide and already feeling a small ache where his tapered tip had begun to ease into her. This couldn't possibly work. He was going to split her right in half.
"It's going to hurt," she whispered, and he leaned forward, those enormous lips playing reassuringly against the skin of her neck and shoulders.
"I'll go slowly," he promised, his voice husky in her ear, and she took in a gasp as he gripped her hips and pulled her down, slowly, patiently impaling her on his sex. Her back arched as he filled her thickly, those wicked nubs tickling her insides as she moved, and his breath became labored as he felt her stretch to accommodate him. He finally bottomed out inside of her, making her cry out sharply when he hit her walls, and when she looked down, she saw several inches of him still exposed. "Does it hurt?" he asked raggedly, raising her up to slide out of her, then bringing her down again, still unrelentingly slow despite the need in his golden eyes. Pain was prickling inside of her and a dull ache was pulsing deep in her stomach, but as he moved, sparks of pleasure flickered brilliantly behind her eyes.
"A little," she admitted in a whimper.
"Should I stop?" he growled, his teeth clenched as he lifted her and pushed her back down onto him. She jerked and writhed as he filled her again, her breath hitched.
"No," she gasped. "No--I want you..."
"Say it again," he groaned desperately, and she let out a hoarse yelp as his pace quickened slightly. It did sting terribly, but the way he was rubbing all over her insides, stroking parts of her she didn't know existed, blotted out the agony and replaced it with a hot, delightful sort of pressure. His mouth was slightly open as he delved into her, watching her with a hazy expression while she strained tightly against his width.
"I want you," she moaned, a half-sob escaping her lips. She hooked a couple of her fingers around the blunt tusks that knifed out from his lower lip, dragging his face towards hers and kissing him violently as he thrust her back down. "I want all of you," she pleaded against his mouth. She could still taste herself on him, and for some reason, that only stoked the wild fever that was swallowing her up. He shut his eyes tight when she nipped his lip.
"You're so tight," he hissed gleefully through his teeth, plunging in and out of her with a newfound passion. Her head lolled back in ecstasy as she took him inside of her again and again, her hips bucking weakly against him. Every part of her felt so tender and oversensitized, full and wet and molten-hot, and she could feel his thrusts thudding against the base of her belly. She was unwinding on top of him, spiraling into some beautiful insanity that made her tense and twitch and beg. His grip tightened on her hips, and his strokes lengthened until he was drawing her up onto the very tip of his cock and then pulling her all the way down, making sure she could feel every incredibly thick, perfect inch that slid into her. The nubs worked rhythmically against something delicate and swollen inside of her, and her legs began to jerk in senseless spasms.
"Oh, God," she sobbed, clutching at his wrists as he continued to slam her eagerly over his cock, all over him, pushing so far into her that she thought she might shatter. He dipped his head down to kiss her throat, his strong teeth catching her flesh briefly, and she groaned as she felt the tufts of his mane tickle her neck. His fingers spanned the width of her hips and overlapped at her spine, making her feel almost toy-like while he maneuvered her. "Please..."
"I would rather die than stop, my sweet," he reassured her breathlessly, never ceasing his torturous ministrations even as he spoke. She opened her mouth to thank him, to plead with him, to urge him on, but instead trailed off in a quivering wail as she was completely overtaken by the near-agony of a volatile orgasm.
The corners of her vision blurred with its intensity, and she thrashed weakly in his grip as a delicious throbbing sensation oozed through her body and squeezed the breath from her lungs. Tears stung at her eyes and began to trickle down her cheeks as he continued to pound into her mercilessly, prolonging the feeling for what felt like decades, ignoring her wordless cries. His teeth gritted together as her body tightened around him, gripping him and constricting in taut pulses, and it finally led to his undoing. He plunged into her one last time, exhaling in a hot, explosive huff that gushed over her skin, he and she felt the warm deluge of his release fill her up in a series of rhythmic spurts. His breath was coming in ragged gasps, and she leaned forward to press her mouth against his parted lips, ensnaring his strained moan as it rumbled from his throat. Then she teetered forward and collapsed against his chest, her fingers flitting idly over his green skin, which was sweaty from their lovemaking.
"Oh," she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest.
"Indeed," he said weakly. He was still inside of her, twitching slightly, and she wriggled forward with a wince so he could slide out. He immediately knelt forward to capture her lips again, closing his eyes blissfully as she welcomed the tip of his black tongue into her mouth. She was splayed out on top of him, her legs straddling his ribcage, and he began to stroke her spine soothingly with those massive fingers. She snuggled into his torso, basking in his warmth and the stunning afterglow of their sex. After a moment, she rubbed her teary eyes on the backs of her hands, and her heart sank when they came away black with mascara. "Are you hurt?" he asked suddenly, staring at her with those strange gold eyes.
"No," she assured him in a quivering voice. "That was incredible."
"Then why are you crying?" he insisted.
"Because...because it was incredible." She gazed up at him and offered him a weary smile, which doubtlessly looked maniacal when her eyes were framed by rivulets of leaking eye makeup. Thankfully, he smiled back; a gesture that crinkled the corners of his eyes endearingly. She rolled over onto her back with a sigh, still draped over his chest. "Could you hand me my purse?" she inquired, and he silently lifted it from the ground and brought it into her arms. "Thank you so much," she said politely, rummaging through it and pulling out her cigarettes and a lighter. "I think I really need one of these..."
As she lit the cigarette and lay back against his broad, broad chest, he inclined his head to grin widely at her, boasting a mouthful of big, strong teeth. His smiling lips bulged around his tusks and exposed a thin line of blackish-pink gums. "I do like you," he said cheerfully. "I think I'd like you to be my mate." She exhaled a lungful of smoke, watching the the hazy tendrils spiral lazily through the damp air.
"That's very sweet of you," she told him, taking another steady pull of the cigarette, "but I'm beginning to realize that I have some pretty spectacular commitment issues."
"Perhaps you've been committing to the wrong people," he offered. The tips of his nails skimmed her breasts, explored her bare flesh, and she shivered.
"I've been wondering that myself." Her fingers were unsteady on the cigarette as his hands moved to stroke her inner thighs, and she flushed when she realized that she was still dripping wet from their combined release. He didn't seem to care. "Would you take other girls out to sushi alone on their birthdays?" she blurted out, and he buried his face in her glossy red hair.
"While that seems like an odd question to ask a troll," he said into her hair, "had I the ability to enter a restaurant without inducing panic, I would certainly do so with only you."
"And you wouldn't tell me to take out my piercings, or lecture me when I wanted to get a tattoo?"
"I would relish the opportunity to see you so lushly decorated for me," he growled, giving the swell of her thighs a mischievous little pinch.
"You wouldn't make passive-aggressive comments about my weight and tell me to eat less?" she continued quietly, closing her eyes as he continued to cover her in feather-soft touches.
"Your body is lovely, and your hips are so deliciously plump," he sighed happily, his fingers slipping beneath her to squeeze her ample buttocks. "Perfect for bearing me many, many children."
"Oh, good. I was just about to ask if you liked kids." She took another pull of her cigarette, smiling as she exhaled. "And if your friends were being rude to me...you'd be upset, wouldn't you?"
"I have very few friends. But I would quickly devour any being who treated you improperly," he replied simply. She sat up and grinned, tossing her cigarette to the side and turning to face him.
"How on earth are you still single?" she demanded, kissing his chin and wrapping her arms around his neck. He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound like an avalanche, and framed her waist with his wide hands.
"I'm rather ferocious, I think," he said. "And very green."
"Green is my favorite color," she told him softly, rising up to brush her lips against his.
"It's amazing," she said thickly, reaching up to brush a dribble of marinara sauce from her lower lip. The smile he gave her in return was hesitant, and she wondered if she was devouring her dinner a little too enthusiastically. Earlier that night, she had fished out an old size 6 dress from the back of her closet; the black one she had worn on their second date. The zipper had needed a little urging near the top, and after wolfing down her salad and some garlic bread, the seams felt a bit tighter. Maybe...maybe she should slow down. She set down her fork and smoothed her napkin pensively over her lap, trying to concentrate on flattening the wrinkles instead of the deliciousness of her dinner. "This place seems familiar," she mused.
"Of course it does," Tyler said cheerfully. "This is where I took you for our first date. And as of tonight, that was--"
"Oh my god," Lucy gasped, feeling the color drain from her face. "Tonight is our fifth anniversary." Tyler chewed quietly on a rubbery bit of shrimp, casting his eyes down towards the tablecloth. "I'm a horrible person," she choked. "Oh, Ty. I'm so, so sorry. I had so many things planned for us to do on our fifth, but I've been distracted with work and everything..."
"Hey, hey, hey. Slow down, Lu," he said soothingly, setting his elbows on the table so he could lean in a little closer to her. "Tonight's about us--it's not a big deal that you forgot some traditional couple bullshit. All that matters is that we're here. I know the past year has been weird, but I wanted to do something special to celebrate getting through it together. It wasn't easy, but we did it." He lifted his beer bottle and she mimicked the action with her vodka cranberry. "To resilience," he announced, and the chime of glass on glass followed.
"Yeah," Lucy mumbled around the mouth of her glass once they had pulled away. "Resilience."
"So, what's been going on with work? You've seemed stressed lately. Is it--"
"Joe? God, yes, it's fucking Joe. It's always Joe." The tiny straw in her beverage left a tail of ripples in its wake as she dragged it restlessly through the pink liquid. "That asshole wants me to manage the Johnson project too, now. Like I'm not already in charge of the research for two other companies." She leaned back in her chair, gazing hopelessly at the ceiling. "When I looked for a job in advertising, I think I underestimated the number of slack-jawed idiots I'd have to interview about airbags and travel mugs."
"Then what did you expect?" he asked wryly.
"I don't know. Something more glamorous," she teased. "Like Mad Men. I'd sip whiskey and smolder at the cameras whenever I talked on the telephone, and all my assistants would be sexy twenty-one-year-olds with snappy shirts and european-cut khakis." She waggled her eyebrows at him hopefully, but he was staring moodily into his beer bottle.
"Sexy twenty-one-year-olds, huh?" he grumbled. Lucy's face contorted into a reproachful glare.
"Stop it. It was a joke and you know it." His nostrils flared as he took in a slow, steadying breath, and while he let it out, he ran his fingers through his wavy chestnut-brown hair. He must have gotten it cut and styled today, she realized. It seemed more artfully tousled than his usual rumpled mane. And...shinier? That was odd. Ty wasn't the type of guy who spent more than five minutes combing his hair, let alone put product in it...
"I'm sorry, Lu. But I just..." He paused and took a rather violent swig of his beer, wiping his mouth roughly on his sleeve after he swallowed. "We've talked about this. It's not...respectful."
"Respectful?" she asked loudly, and the couple at the next table over turned to stare. "Wow. Tell me: how respectful were you being when you took that girl at your office out to dinner three months ago...?"
"That was work-related--"
"Yeah, work-related sushi downtown. Alone. Until eleven."
"I understand that that might have been a breach of trust--"
"I bet that wasn't the only thing you breached."
"Are we really doing this now?" he asked helplessly, gripping a frustrated handful of that too-shiny, freshly-trimmed hair. "I thought we were done with this. Tonight was supposed to be..." He trailed off, letting the sentence hang in between them like a wrecking ball poised to swing. Lucy sighed angrily, but then reached forward to grip his hand in hers.
"I'm sorry, Ty. I won't talk about well-dressed college students," she said, offering him a little smile. He returned it weakly, inclining his head in rueful acceptance.
"And if you do, I'll try not to feel threatened," he replied dully.
"You shouldn't. I'm sure you can pull off tight dress pants just as well as they can."
"Maybe I'll add some to my wardrobe."
"How are we feeling about dessert?" the waiter asked brightly, appearing with an uncanny suddenness near Lucy's chair. She jerked at the spontaneity of his arrival, but then shrugged.
"As conflicted as always, I guess," she admitted. Tyler gave her hand a firm squeeze.
"We have other plans for dessert," he said. Lucy's eyes widened. It wasn't typical of him to take over like that, but...she kind of liked this in-charge attitude. "I'd like the check. Unless," he continued, his eyes drifting towards Lucy's plate, "you aren't finished...?"
"Get it away from me," she declared quickly, shoving the plate a few inches forward. "I'd like a box, though," she added as the waiter's hands drifted down to retrieve it from her.
"Sure thing." And then, just as suddenly as he had appeared, he vanished.
"He's way too efficient," Lucy whispered. Tyler laughed.
About an hour later, they were strolling through a nearby park. Tyler's hands were tucked into his pockets, and Lucy was spinning next to him, giddy from one too many vodka cocktails.
"It's beautiful out tonight," she sighed, looping a hand through his arm so she could clutch his sleeve as they walked. "Did you plan this, having a summer anniversary...?"
"I wanted to ask you sooner, but I held out," he agreed solemnly. Lucy giggled, immediately ashamed by how high-pitched it was. The sweetness of the summer air and the heady smell of fresh roses was making her feel slightly unhinged. A flutter of cool air made the hem of her dress brush against her thigh, and she felt sixteen again; perched on the hood of her friend's car and talking about simpler things, like clothes and grades and curfews. They finally scaled the small hill, and suddenly they were overlooking a vast pond that was filled with stunningly white lilypads and a small family of ducks. A charming wooden bridge scaled the length of it, the rails carved into quaint spirals that caught the twilight and cast wickedly spindly shadows onto the ground beside it.
He seemed to pause as they reached the top of the hill, and despite the gloriousness of the scene before her, Lucy was overtaken by a certain sort of trepidation. "Do you remember this place?" he murmured, and the feeling only grew as the answer found its way into her throat.
"This is where we met, isn't it?" she whispered. "I was sketching under that tree, and you were--"
"Walking Charlie, yeah," he agreed, grinning. "He shoved his nose right up your skirt before I could call him back."
"That dog got to second base before you did," she laughed, but there was a sinking feeling weighing down her stomach. "Babe, what are you...?" He wriggled out from her grasp and sank onto his knees, and she felt her eyes grow wide with horror. "Oh, Tyler," she breathed. "Oh, Ty, no..."
"Lucy," he said, a quiver in his voice, "I know we've been through a lot this year..."
"Wait," she begged, but he quickly took her hands in his and kissed the knuckles, his green eyes wide and pleading.
"It really has been a lot," he admitted. "We were so close to ending everything, and that made me think--"
"Ty..."
"--about the prospect of losing you. You mean the world to me, Lucy Clark, and living without you...that was more than I could bear. You're something inevitable to me--and I mean that in the best way. You're like coffee before work, or hot cocoa on a snow day. You just make life more bearable, and I need you. I don't think I'll ever stop needing you." Lucy's brown eyes began to brim with tears, and he withdrew one of his hands to fish fervently in his pockets. When it came back into view, it was clutching a tiny red box. He released her hands to open it, and a brilliant diamond caught the glow of the setting sun, sending a glittering halo of light onto the grass. "Lucy," he whispered, "will you marry me?"
The park was very silent after that, broken only by the chirp of crickets and the steady percussion of the trickling brook.
"Are you finished," Lucy finally asked hoarsely, "or would you like to compare me to more beverages?" His face seemed to slacken with grief and disbelief, and she tried to hide the pain from her expression as her heart shattered into a thousand pieces. "What are you doing, Ty?" she urged, clutching her mop of straight, shiny red hair frantically with both hands. "Fuck. Just last month, you were living with your mother..."
"I had to move out," he protested weakly. "You were threatening to break up with me if I didn't leave--"
"That's not the point. We were fighting, we almost called it quits for good. And now you're trying to marry me?" She shut her eyes tight and pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation, trying to fight back tears. "Did you think this was going to fix it? That putting a ring on my finger would just make the last six months vanish?"
"Lucy, it's been five years! You wouldn't stay with me that long if you didn't want--where the hell are you going?!" he shouted as she began to stride quickly down the hill.
"This is insane," she yelled back. "I'm going for a walk, alone. Come home when you've gotten this out of your system, and we can eat ice cream and watch South Park and pretend that this never happened..."
"But it's getting late, and the park..." She broke into a run as his voice seemed to grow nearer, and she heard him growl in frustration. "Jesus, Lu! Don't pull this runaway bride bullshit...!"
"I'M NOT YOUR FUCKING BRIDE!" she screamed. Her ankles wobbled precariously in her four-inch heels as she ran, but she managed to scramble into a thick cluster of trees without snapping any bones or twisting any joints.
"I have the car keys, Lucy!" she heard him groan, and she waited with baited breath until she heard him pass the tiny grove. Then, with the stealth and precision of Kung-Fu movie ninjas, she dove out from her hiding place and scurried towards the man-made pond. Her heels clacked briefly on a thin ring of concrete as she made her way towards the area beneath the bridge, fumbling with her purse as she searched for her pack of cigarettes, tears springing to her eyes. This was happening so fast. So fast. She needed to be alone. She needed to think...
She finally ducked under the bridge and knelt to creep into a wide tunnel beneath it, her heels skidding slightly in the slimy water that was coursing through it. It was very dark, but a few sparse lights glowed from the ceiling. A flash from her lighter illuminated her surroundings a little more, revealing hasty swirls of graffiti and lines of names written in a column in Sharpie. Thankfully, the area seemed quiet. One of her eyebrows arched as she surveyed the area, taking a long drag from her cigarette. She certainly hadn't expected the drain to be this massive, or this long. So, wielding her cigarette, she ventured slowly into its depths.
Many minutes later, she found herself at a small fork. On one side, the tunnel cut off into a wall that trickled water through a skinny little drain, but on the other, a stone tunnel led into a strange, circular cavern. Parts of the ground beneath her were littered with discarded cigarettes and old, broken beer bottles, but as she continued forward, the litter seemed to vanish. The cavern was dry and free of any sort of vermin and, to her surprise, lit by a single fluorescent light that flickered weakly on the side of the wall. An isolated, underground room like this probably should have been covered by a thick layer of urban trash from various delinquents, but it seemed somewhat clean. In the center, a forgotten concrete slab sat alone on the stone floor. Every few feet or so, a variety of feeble flora sprang through the rocks in a shock of green and tender leaves. She slumped wearily onto the concrete slab, burying her face in her hands. Tyler's voice, calling her name incessantly, echoed dimly from the tunnel entrance, but as she waited, that too seemed to dissipate, leaving her alone with the trickling water and the strange little plants.
"I don't think I can do this anymore," she finally said in a tiny whisper, finishing up her cigarette and staring sadly at the floor as she flicked it away. A fat, quivering tear escaped the corner of her eye and began to slide down her cheek, and she quickly rubbed it away, feeling completely defeated. She and Tyler had been through a volatile sort of relationship, and even though they had both managed to forgive each other when he moved back in last month, the prospect of marrying him filled her with dread. It would be hard to kick someone out of your life when they shared your finances, the title of your house, and pretty much half of anything you owned. For Christ's sake. What the hell had he been thinking...?
"Who dares--" a terribly deep voice began suddenly from behind her, echoing richly throughout the room, and she promptly threw her leftovers towards the source of the noise. They fell with a loud crash, and the voice seemed to silence in disbelief.
"Go away," she snapped, burying her face in her hands. "Jesus Christ, if you're going to be creepy, just take my purse and go." A looming shadow fell over her, and despite her glumness, a twinge of terror made her voice falter as she spoke again. "I'm warning you," she continued, "I have pepper spray..."
"You are trespassing," the voice said delicately, and her spine stiffened when she realized that it was almost directly behind her. "Why have you come? Did you hear rumors of a monster in the tunnels? Did you want to see it?"
"What are you talking abou--" she began irritably, turning to face the voice, and then she felt the color drain from her face.
Crouched over her was a massive being maybe twice her size, with mottled green skin and a long, almost fluffy mane of black hair that seemed to travel down in a tapering stripe to the middle of his bare back. His enormous hands were braced on the concrete slab she was sitting on so that their faces were level, and each finger was topped with a sharp, wickedly curved nail that gradated to black at the tip. Long, curling horns, like a ram's, spiraled out from his temples. His eyes were bright in the gloom, gold with wide pupils and flecked with spots of black--almost like a frog's eyes. But frogs didn't have pairs of knife-like incisors that jutted out from their lower lip like he did, the points of them ending just below his long, sculpted nose. His eyes narrowed angrily as they met hers, and his upper lip curled in contempt, giving her a glimpse of more sharp, strong white teeth.
"Satisfied?" he snarled. "Take a good look. It might very well be the last thing you see." Lucy stared at him in horror for several minutes, but then her eyes squinted shut against another flood of drunken tears and she turned to sob wordlessly into her hands. He watched quietly, and an uncomfortable silence bloomed between them, punctured only by her sobs.
"I really don't understand what I've done to deserve all of this," she finally choked out, disgusted by the high-pitched whine that tainted her words. "All I wanted was a nice dinner with my stupid boyfriend, and now everything's falling apart and I'm about to get eaten, and my gnocchi is probably ruined," she continued in a horrified wail, pressing a hand to her lips and staring up at him through eyes blurry with tears. "I...I don't know why that part bothers me so much," she admitted shakily. "B-but I don't do anything awful. I'm not a bad person. I don't know if I'm a good person, but I'm definitely not evil, and this kind of night should only happen to evil, evil people..."
"Wait," he began, his expression softening, but she just shook her head violently and continued to spew nonsense at him.
"I don't know. Maybe I am evil. Maybe he's a great guy and I'm just being horrible to him. It's...it's just that...it should feel better. I should be happier when I'm with him, and I'm not. Sometimes I don't know if I even like him. He's so awful sometimes, and I can't help but think--"
Suddenly, he jerked forward to cut her off with a fierce kiss, stealing her words into his mouth. His lips weren't rubbery at all, she realized, despite their dark, glistening texture. Quite the contrary, they were like warm, oiled silk; practically liquid and all-consuming in their size. His protruding teeth brushed against her cheeks as his massive mouth moved hungrily over hers, and she felt her entire body melt into a delighted puddle. Which was...odd, considering the circumstances. He pulled away after several moments, his eyes now hooded with a content sort of laziness.
"You don't sound evil," he told her, his face still only inches from hers. "But you are very loquacious." She brought a finger up to touch her lips, feeling the wet heat from his kiss lingering on her skin. It had been a while since anyone had kissed her quite like that.
"I'm sorry," she breathed, staring slackly at his lips. "I'm a little drunk."
"I can smell it all over you," he agreed, inclining his head in a solemn nod.
"...Are you going to eat me?" she asked quietly after a pause.
"I think I like you," he said. His lips parted into a wide smile, made all the more terrifying by the length of his teeth and the underbite of his tusk-like incisors. "You're quite pretty, and the way you fret is adorable."
"I'm not fretting," she retorted, feeling her cheeks heat up. He let out a low chuckle, and she let her eyes roam over him. The broadness of his shoulders was accentuated by a thick layer of hard muscle that seemed to cover his entire body, and the black ridges of his horns caught the dim lights lustrously. Once she got a better look at him, she realized that the line of his jaw was chiseled and pleasantly angular, and his chin curved into an attractive point. His arms were taut and strong looking and utterly, utterly large.
"It isn't polite to stare," she heard him murmur, and her eyes strayed from the rigid hollow of his throat and darted back to his face. He looked faintly annoyed.
"No, no, it isn't like that," she assured him, shaking her head hastily. "You're just...very good-looking, for a monster."
"A troll," he corrected her gently, apparently mollified. For some reason, that admission made her situation seem much more real, and she swallowed.
"A troll," she echoed in a weak voice. They both were quiet for several minutes, and Lucy listened to the trickling of the drainwater as she stared uncertainly at her new acquaintance: this possibly bloodthirsty troll who had declared a fondness for her only minutes after meeting her. "You can kiss me again, if you want," she finally decided. He cocked his head to the side in response, watching her curiously. "It felt nice," she admitted, shifting a little closer to him. "And, well..." She bit her lip, her fingers folding in her lap. "...I think kissing someone would be good for me right now."
He raised his head a little, brushing the tip of his large, chiseled nose against hers, and something about the gesture sent a jolt through her stomach. Then he dipped forward, closing the sparse distance between their mouths and pressing his lips gently against hers. Shivering, she hesitantly entwined her arms around his thick neck, pulling him closer and enjoying the searing heat that was radiating from his bare skin. Tufts of his mane swallowed up her arms as she tightened them in a squeeze. In response, he brought a large hand up to frame her jaw. A row of wicked nails played lightly across her flesh. The cavern was silent save for the trickling of water and the soft, wet sounds of their kissing, and Lucy clasped him against her desperately as his mouth opened slowly beneath hers. A big, clever tongue probed hopefully against her lips and she opened them obediently, her shoulders drooping lazily as the tip of it swept her mouth. She coaxed it in further, stroking its underside with her own tongue and feeling utterly weak as it filled her mouth hungrily. To her disappointment, he suddenly withdrew it and pulled away, leaving her shaking and unfulfilled.
"I believe I enjoy kissing you," he admitted after a moment, and delight swelled in her chest when she noticed the faint tremor in his voice.
"I like kissing you, too," she told him. His muddy-green eyelids fluttered shut as she leaned forward and nibbled insistently on his lower lip, and his vast body seemed to quiver with anticipation when he knelt to kiss her again--a little harder this time, but still tentative, as if he was frightened she might break. A thick set of fingers moved behind her to fumble with the zipper of her black strapless dress, and her spine tensed a little in surprise when he slid it open, baring her shoulders and a long expanse of her back. But then a broad green thumb stroked the length of bared skin in a trail of heat, and her body disintegrated back into a silly mass of wobbly jelly.
"I want to see you," he implored, drawing back a little and watching her hopefully. She paused for a bit, staring up at him with thinly-veiled uncertainty, but finally rose to her feet in a determined sort of way and wriggled slowly out of her dress. His pitch-black pupils seemed to dilate as the slinky dress shimmied down her hips and puddled into a heap around her ankles, and those golden eyes raked greedily over the curved outline of her bare flesh. She was only wearing a pair of black panties underneath it, and his gaze seemed to stop at the lacy valley between her thighs. "Delightful," he rumbled.
A flutter of happiness exploded in her belly at his approval, but then he was touching her shoulders and gently pushing her back against the concrete slab. She obeyed his movements and wiggled back to perch on the edge of it, her lips parting as his hands moved to grasp her legs and slide down the length of them. They stopped at her ankles and gingerly plucked off her spiky heels, and he seemed to smile when he saw her dainty toes. They looked hopelessly tiny next to his hands. Now that she could see more of him, she noticed that, although his chest was bare, his hips were clad in a pair of slightly worn black trousers. There was a generous bulge straining against the area between his hard thighs, and her eyebrows raised. Oh.
"Do you want me to take these off?" she asked in an unsteady whisper, her fingers hooking into the hem of her panties. He nodded vigorously, and her lips twitched into a shy, excited smile as she shifted to wriggle out of them. Her movements seemed to elicit a slight jiggle that traveled up from the swell of her thighs to the lush arch of her bosom, and she saw his eyes ignite with need while he watched her. As soon as the lacy fabric fell limply to the ground, his enormous mouth descended upon her with an almost terrifying sort of enthusiasm. His lips found her toes first, nibbling sweetly at each plump, berry-like digit. Then he moved to her legs, covering the length of them in deep, slow kisses as he ascended to her thighs, which parted weakly for him at his approach. Her whole body was drowning in heat, bringing a hectic flush to the pale curve of her cheeks.
She reached out and buried her fingers in the mass of his black mane, clutching its softness and urging him on. While his lips moved ravenously against her tender thighs, his hands clutched the hourglass of her waist, feeling her skin and tightening their grip as she tugged pleadingly at his hair.
Suddenly, he stood and lifted her high into the air, prying her legs apart with his long, crooked fingers. He opened her like she was an oyster and her legs were the shell, lurching forward to lap up the tender, sweet pearl between her thighs. His tongue was feverishly warm against her clit, and she clutched desperately at his fingers as his lips closed against her in a slow kiss, the entirety of her sex enveloped by his hot, wet mouth. He shifted her so her ass was cupped in the palms of his hands, tilting her hips towards his lips to drink deeply of her. Through the haze of longing that was nearly blinding her, she saw his gold-flecked eyes close contentedly. A hot, tremulous sensation was invading her body and possessing her legs, and his thumbs moved firmly in front of her thighs to keep them in place as they began to squeeze shut on their own accord. His tongue chased her relentlessly as she writhed in his hands, desperate little noises squeaking out of her throat.
"Please, Mister Troll," she gasped deliriously, feeling utterly ridiculous as she spoke. She still wasn't quite sure what to call him.
"Sylvus," he slurred against her, extending his tongue to lash wetly at her clit once he had finished speaking.
"Sylvus," she repeated shakily. Then she squirmed as he dragged his full mouth up the length of her body and circled the tip of one of her nipples with his black tongue. Something warm and thick was uncoiling inside of her, and she reached up to grip his spiraling ram's horns as he gently drew her breast into the searing wetness of his mouth. He moved to the other after several moments, nibbling gingerly at the peaked nipple before taking that into his mouth as well and suckling it leisurely. It elicited a slow tugging sensation that coursed down her body and bloomed in between her thighs, which were still slick from the wickedness of his tongue. "I-I'm Lucy," she whispered, releasing her hold on his horns as he moved his mouth to her throat, his heavy breathing a gorgeous rush in her ears.
"Lucy," he said against her neck. His voice was so deep that she could feel it vibrating in her belly, and the way he said her name sent a tremor shooting up her spine. Her eyelids fluttered shut as he moved his huge mouth fluidly against her skin, and she felt her arms erupt into a mass of goosebumps when he nipped the flesh gently. Then he was trailing large, wet kisses down the length of her body, tightening his grip on her unruly thighs as he settled himself in between them and engulfed her once again with the luxurious heat of his mouth.
She leaned forward and gripped tight handfuls of his fluffy black mane, her knuckles white. He responded with an unintelligible moan, those cruel lips still mouthing and kissing gently. Then his broad tongue slid up the length of her lips and paused at her entrance, the tip squirming into her passage before it began to dive in and out of her in a slow, hypnotic tempo. Immense teeth nibbled playfully at her skin, and the feeling of his breath on her pale, sensitive flesh was making moisture trickle down her thighs like legs on a fine wine. Every inch of her was starting to tighten. Her breath was caught like a fluttering moth in her chest, jittery and pounding at her ribcage. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop," she moaned frantically, tugging on his mane and urging his hot, silky tongue to flood deeper into her.
When she came seconds later, gasping for breath, his fingers clenched rapturously behind her and scraped thick nails delicately over her skin. She twitched as he withdrew his tongue and drew his lips together in another warm, velvety kiss that blanketed her sex, inhaling richly as he did it, like he was cherishing her scent. He lowered into a crouch and tipped her delicately onto the floor in front of him, and she wobbled as she struggled for balance. While they were inconvenient, she wished for the extra inches her heels had offered her. Without them, the top of her head probably didn't even come up to his ribcage.
Her breathing was finally beginning to level, and somewhere near her bosom, she saw his hardness bulging against his trousers. She leaned forward and ran her hands over it slowly, cupping each side in her palms, and she gave it a gentle, longing squeeze before pressing her lips against the fabric, looking up at him curiously with wide eyes as she did. He was growing harder beneath her hands, and when their eyes met, his jaw seemed to slacken in awe. She drew back a few steps as he began to fumble with the fastenings of his trousers impatiently, finally sliding them down and stepping out of them. Immediately after they fell into a heap around his ankles, her eyes widened.
She stared down at his exposed erection, a tingle of dread seeping from her chest and all the way into the tips of her fingers. It was olive-hued and nearly the width of one of her calves, as well as textured with even rows of dark, nubby studs. It was also almost as long as her arm. All in all, it looked like some terrifying sex toy that one could find on the darker side of the internet, and she wasn't quite sure that there was any part of her body it could fit into.
"Is something wrong?" he inquired, kneeling down and reaching those colossal hands out to cup her buttocks and draw her closer.
"I'm starting to have doubts," she said in a tiny voice, allowing herself to be dragged forward and tripping uncertainly on the stone floor. But as daunting as her situation was, she felt herself kneel down in front of him, her lips parting curiously. "Can I...?" she asked hesitantly, and he let out a sound of acquiescence. She pressed her lips to the tip in a lingering kiss, a flutter of excitement bubbling in her stomach as she felt the organ twitch. Her lips slid open so she could run her tongue up his length, closing her eyes to savor his taste. Her tongue swirled around his head, lapping up the pearls of moisture that had appeared on top of it, and then she opened her mouth and took the very tip of him in between her lips, suckling it gently. That made him take in a shuddering breath, those clawed fingers clutching a handful of her long, red hair. Then she moved to the base, moving her lips slowly and silkily over the tender length of his underside.
"That's for you, Lucy," he said in that deep, slow voice, his fingers tangling into her hair to pull her forward and press her mouth against the side of his erection. Lucy's stomach leapt into her throat. "All for you..."
"But...you're so big," she protested, quivering a bit as he moved his hands to her waist to lift her towards him.
"And you are very small," he agreed softly, holding her in front of him and raking his eyes greedily over her body. "And very, very wet," he added excitedly, teasing the tip of his index finger into her dewy passage, his middle finger following soon after. Together, they were probably twice the size of anything that had ever entered her before, and she gripped his thumb pleadingly in her palm as he began to slide them gingerly in and out of her. The pain was quickly swallowed up by a breathtakingly full sensation, however, and she felt herself go pleasantly limp. She barely even noticed as he lowered himself onto the ground in a sitting position, leaning his back against the wall. Once he seemed to think that she was adequately prepared, he withdrew his fingers and lowered her down towards his hips. She shuddered as he fit her onto the tip of his cock, spreading her legs wide and already feeling a small ache where his tapered tip had begun to ease into her. This couldn't possibly work. He was going to split her right in half.
"It's going to hurt," she whispered, and he leaned forward, those enormous lips playing reassuringly against the skin of her neck and shoulders.
"I'll go slowly," he promised, his voice husky in her ear, and she took in a gasp as he gripped her hips and pulled her down, slowly, patiently impaling her on his sex. Her back arched as he filled her thickly, those wicked nubs tickling her insides as she moved, and his breath became labored as he felt her stretch to accommodate him. He finally bottomed out inside of her, making her cry out sharply when he hit her walls, and when she looked down, she saw several inches of him still exposed. "Does it hurt?" he asked raggedly, raising her up to slide out of her, then bringing her down again, still unrelentingly slow despite the need in his golden eyes. Pain was prickling inside of her and a dull ache was pulsing deep in her stomach, but as he moved, sparks of pleasure flickered brilliantly behind her eyes.
"A little," she admitted in a whimper.
"Should I stop?" he growled, his teeth clenched as he lifted her and pushed her back down onto him. She jerked and writhed as he filled her again, her breath hitched.
"No," she gasped. "No--I want you..."
"Say it again," he groaned desperately, and she let out a hoarse yelp as his pace quickened slightly. It did sting terribly, but the way he was rubbing all over her insides, stroking parts of her she didn't know existed, blotted out the agony and replaced it with a hot, delightful sort of pressure. His mouth was slightly open as he delved into her, watching her with a hazy expression while she strained tightly against his width.
"I want you," she moaned, a half-sob escaping her lips. She hooked a couple of her fingers around the blunt tusks that knifed out from his lower lip, dragging his face towards hers and kissing him violently as he thrust her back down. "I want all of you," she pleaded against his mouth. She could still taste herself on him, and for some reason, that only stoked the wild fever that was swallowing her up. He shut his eyes tight when she nipped his lip.
"You're so tight," he hissed gleefully through his teeth, plunging in and out of her with a newfound passion. Her head lolled back in ecstasy as she took him inside of her again and again, her hips bucking weakly against him. Every part of her felt so tender and oversensitized, full and wet and molten-hot, and she could feel his thrusts thudding against the base of her belly. She was unwinding on top of him, spiraling into some beautiful insanity that made her tense and twitch and beg. His grip tightened on her hips, and his strokes lengthened until he was drawing her up onto the very tip of his cock and then pulling her all the way down, making sure she could feel every incredibly thick, perfect inch that slid into her. The nubs worked rhythmically against something delicate and swollen inside of her, and her legs began to jerk in senseless spasms.
"Oh, God," she sobbed, clutching at his wrists as he continued to slam her eagerly over his cock, all over him, pushing so far into her that she thought she might shatter. He dipped his head down to kiss her throat, his strong teeth catching her flesh briefly, and she groaned as she felt the tufts of his mane tickle her neck. His fingers spanned the width of her hips and overlapped at her spine, making her feel almost toy-like while he maneuvered her. "Please..."
"I would rather die than stop, my sweet," he reassured her breathlessly, never ceasing his torturous ministrations even as he spoke. She opened her mouth to thank him, to plead with him, to urge him on, but instead trailed off in a quivering wail as she was completely overtaken by the near-agony of a volatile orgasm.
The corners of her vision blurred with its intensity, and she thrashed weakly in his grip as a delicious throbbing sensation oozed through her body and squeezed the breath from her lungs. Tears stung at her eyes and began to trickle down her cheeks as he continued to pound into her mercilessly, prolonging the feeling for what felt like decades, ignoring her wordless cries. His teeth gritted together as her body tightened around him, gripping him and constricting in taut pulses, and it finally led to his undoing. He plunged into her one last time, exhaling in a hot, explosive huff that gushed over her skin, he and she felt the warm deluge of his release fill her up in a series of rhythmic spurts. His breath was coming in ragged gasps, and she leaned forward to press her mouth against his parted lips, ensnaring his strained moan as it rumbled from his throat. Then she teetered forward and collapsed against his chest, her fingers flitting idly over his green skin, which was sweaty from their lovemaking.
"Oh," she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest.
"Indeed," he said weakly. He was still inside of her, twitching slightly, and she wriggled forward with a wince so he could slide out. He immediately knelt forward to capture her lips again, closing his eyes blissfully as she welcomed the tip of his black tongue into her mouth. She was splayed out on top of him, her legs straddling his ribcage, and he began to stroke her spine soothingly with those massive fingers. She snuggled into his torso, basking in his warmth and the stunning afterglow of their sex. After a moment, she rubbed her teary eyes on the backs of her hands, and her heart sank when they came away black with mascara. "Are you hurt?" he asked suddenly, staring at her with those strange gold eyes.
"No," she assured him in a quivering voice. "That was incredible."
"Then why are you crying?" he insisted.
"Because...because it was incredible." She gazed up at him and offered him a weary smile, which doubtlessly looked maniacal when her eyes were framed by rivulets of leaking eye makeup. Thankfully, he smiled back; a gesture that crinkled the corners of his eyes endearingly. She rolled over onto her back with a sigh, still draped over his chest. "Could you hand me my purse?" she inquired, and he silently lifted it from the ground and brought it into her arms. "Thank you so much," she said politely, rummaging through it and pulling out her cigarettes and a lighter. "I think I really need one of these..."
As she lit the cigarette and lay back against his broad, broad chest, he inclined his head to grin widely at her, boasting a mouthful of big, strong teeth. His smiling lips bulged around his tusks and exposed a thin line of blackish-pink gums. "I do like you," he said cheerfully. "I think I'd like you to be my mate." She exhaled a lungful of smoke, watching the the hazy tendrils spiral lazily through the damp air.
"That's very sweet of you," she told him, taking another steady pull of the cigarette, "but I'm beginning to realize that I have some pretty spectacular commitment issues."
"Perhaps you've been committing to the wrong people," he offered. The tips of his nails skimmed her breasts, explored her bare flesh, and she shivered.
"I've been wondering that myself." Her fingers were unsteady on the cigarette as his hands moved to stroke her inner thighs, and she flushed when she realized that she was still dripping wet from their combined release. He didn't seem to care. "Would you take other girls out to sushi alone on their birthdays?" she blurted out, and he buried his face in her glossy red hair.
"While that seems like an odd question to ask a troll," he said into her hair, "had I the ability to enter a restaurant without inducing panic, I would certainly do so with only you."
"And you wouldn't tell me to take out my piercings, or lecture me when I wanted to get a tattoo?"
"I would relish the opportunity to see you so lushly decorated for me," he growled, giving the swell of her thighs a mischievous little pinch.
"You wouldn't make passive-aggressive comments about my weight and tell me to eat less?" she continued quietly, closing her eyes as he continued to cover her in feather-soft touches.
"Your body is lovely, and your hips are so deliciously plump," he sighed happily, his fingers slipping beneath her to squeeze her ample buttocks. "Perfect for bearing me many, many children."
"Oh, good. I was just about to ask if you liked kids." She took another pull of her cigarette, smiling as she exhaled. "And if your friends were being rude to me...you'd be upset, wouldn't you?"
"I have very few friends. But I would quickly devour any being who treated you improperly," he replied simply. She sat up and grinned, tossing her cigarette to the side and turning to face him.
"How on earth are you still single?" she demanded, kissing his chin and wrapping her arms around his neck. He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound like an avalanche, and framed her waist with his wide hands.
"I'm rather ferocious, I think," he said. "And very green."
"Green is my favorite color," she told him softly, rising up to brush her lips against his.
((Hi, everyone! Thanks for giving this a read. I've always been obsessed with all things fairy-tale-related, so I figured it would be fun to crank out some adult versions. I might try my hand at a few more if I have the time.
Anyway, I 3 comments and critiques! And if you're wondering about it, the next Treasure chapter should be out by next week...I hope. Thanks again!))