Page 46 of The Rat King
She was panting now. I could tell she was close by the tremors in her legs. Her eyes clenched shut so tight her face almost looked like she was in pain and her mouth fell open on a moan. I watched her sensual body seize up as the first wave rolled through her. Her orgasm seemed to go on and on and right as I thought it was over, she spasmed again, whispering a word I will never forget as long as I live.
“Nigh,” she said.
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Had I heard that right?
My body shuttered with barely controlled restraint. I was one wrong decision away from walking over there, getting down on my knees, and fucking that swollen pussy until she said that word again. And again.
But I couldn’t. It felt wrong to take her in this form, regardless of what she saw. Kissing her while I was this creature was bad enough. I needed to wait till the reprieve, despite how willing she was to let me before then.
As she moved her panties back in place and adjusted the dress, I edged a little deeper in the library, wondering what I would do if she found me here. Thank the Goddess, she spared me from that. Her silhouette rushed by with the book I’d taken out of her hand and the door clicked shut. I released a sigh and eyed the door, my focus landing on the little key that was in every door in this palace. I strode over to it, turned it, and tried the handle. Locked.
I knew she’d been doing it, touching herself after I kissed her senseless. I learned she retreated to her rooms after our encounters. The thought of pleasuring myself in the same chair where she had just done the same shot a thrill through me. It only took a second, and I had my pants undone and my cock in my hand. I would worry about the mess after. Now was about release.
With every stroke I imagined that my dick was her fingers plunging deep inside her, showing her what she did to me. How undone I was by her. And like her, it didn’t take long until cum shot out of my glistening head into my awaiting palm.
As the last pulse rose to crescendo, I breathed, “Avery.”
Chapter 34
Avery
AnotherthingNighvalhadgiven me since I arrived at the palace was unfettered access to the palace tailor, Fredrik. Though I got the impression the little man was a new transplant from the nearby village I visited a few times. As were a few of the other castle staff.
I’d taken Fredrik over with requests, and together we’d managed to create a modestly sized wardrobe which was some combination of the vintage clothing from their world and the modern style I preferred. At first, I felt guilty monopolizing him, but Nighval noticed how much joy playing with the beautiful fabrics gave me and assured me that Fredrik was more than happy to accommodate.
After research about full moon parties, I decided they reminded me of a bohemian themed wedding I’d attended at one of the hotels on the beach. Draping fabrics, pillows for seating on the floor and bonfires every so often. Committed to the theme, I decided on a gauzy, nearly sheer fabric for my party dress which I felt matched the vibe. I selected several colors of pale pink, peach, and orange. Panels of the bodice wrapped around my chest in a simple wrap style, and thin straps held it up. It cinched at the waist and flowed in an A-line down to where it kissed my bare feet. The skirt was alternating swaths of the different shades, each was free flowing so that as I moved, one could see glimpses of the skin beneath.
If tonight was about the moon, I’d be the sun. It was like Nighval and me. He was the cool, pale presence hunting me, like the moon chased the blazing orb across the sky.
I walked down the stairs and followed the sounds of the music. I’d spent all morning out there making sure everything was perfect., Only when Jonas insisted I let him take over so I could go change and enjoy the party, I relented.
My last two weeks of productivity satisfied something inside me and now I was floating.
Tonight, I’d allow myself to meld into the free-spirited nature of the celebration.
In the distance, firelight glowed, silhouettes moved and danced. The cool grass gave me a chill as I walked, but the closer I got, the more the warmth enveloped me. Around the fires were low platforms with rugs and pillows, set up in even intervals. People were lounging on them, drinking, talking and even a few were giving their partners affection openly, making me wonder what more I would see as the night went on. I looked away, instead checking on the squat tables in between them which were laden with fruit, cheese, and pitchers of the mulled wine everyone was drinking.
I wasn’t hungry, and I didn’t want to imbibe too much because I suspected where tonight was heading for me, though I could probably use a drink.
The thought of Nighval prowling over to me in his boxer-briefs that night in the inn made my stomach do flips as I wove my way through the crowd to the largest fire in the center. There was a small group of musicians scattered throughout the crowd playing different instruments and though they weren’t together, they played in sync, each beat banging in time.
The rhythmic thumping of drums called to something in my blood. I didn’t know if it was intrinsically me, or the witch DNA I carried, or something else entirely. It wasn’t like the pumping music at the nightclub with the pulsing lights and sweaty bodies. As I took in the multiple bonfires, their orange flames climbing higher and higher, the people dancing around them, some singing the wordless song along with the music, I could see the similarities. I supposed the club was my plane’s version of this night, but somehow this was more primal, natural. It called to my inner witch, to my connection with the earth and the celestial bodies surrounding her.
The beat, like my time at the palace, became a part of my healing process. Closing my eyes, I let the heat of the fire radiate onto my cheeks and moved with the music. I felt so warm, so whole, and forgiven as I shared this moment with the Goddess.
Maybe there were things in this plane that were better like the dancing, the Goddess worship, and him. Sympathy welled inside me as I opened my eyes and looked around at the rat-people and the similarly serene expressions on the revelers. In a moment, the moon would rise to its apex beginning the reprieve and they’d have a few hours as humans again.
And when these building feelings inside of me reached their apex, they’d never have to be subjected to that horror again.
I hadn’t seen the man who’d break the curse with me yet this evening, and as I scanned the crowd, I found myself searching for the unmistakable man. Then large hands enveloped my hips, and his voice was in my ear.
“I like this,” he said. He ran his hands down to where his fingers grazed inside the panels of the dress and scraped against my skin. He kissed my neck as he pulled me back into his chest and we began swaying to the music.
Eventually, he pulled me around to the other side of the fire where a large platform sat, and jewel toned pillows lay in piles. He ushered me up, and I took a seat. I drank him in as he went to a food table beside us and filled a large platter, returning it to our seat, then went after two goblets. Like me, his feet were bare. His loose charcoal linen pants sat low on his hips and a cream linen shirt hung unbuttoned on his shoulders, exposing rows of tight muscle beneath.
When he handed me the glass and sat, reclining back, my eyes were still glued to his rippling stomach. I scooted near him and, unable to resist, I ran my fingertips across his pale skin. He eyed me as I touched him, and I said, “I like these.”
“I’m glad, but you better quit before I decide to cut this night short,” he said, leaning over me to pluck a bunch of grapes off the platter. He pushed one between my lips, then one between his.
