Hideous (A Frankenstein Retelling) by Gale Darkly

Author:Gale Darkly [Darkly, Gale]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-01-02T16:00:00+00:00

20. SPEAK TO ME

Catalina

I CRACK AN EYE. The watch is felt. Corenthian’s toes curl against the cold tile. My gaze traces upward, and I find him staring, weight curled in hand. I stretch against pillow, turning over with a smile. The big, new-feeling blanket slips my shoulder and hip.

An angry, almost-audible grumble.

“Fetch me, when you are ready to tell.”

I snuggle, convincing myself of privacy. His gaze makes me feel safe.

I am turned over, by a hand at the dip of my hip.

I blink up at him, quickly widened. I reach to cover my front, and his mouth is on mine. Our third kiss—our third first kiss—and my heart flutters with beat. He is wild, hand a claw at my scalp. Tugging at my hair, as our mouths mate. His nose presses to the dent of my cheek, and my legs pinch tight.

Cannot explain it. It is the stiffen of my chest, beneath palm. The squeeze of my knees, stuck under spread. His body presses to mine, his movements patient. His tongue swipes at my bitten lip. Smiles against me.

“I won’t break,” my tone wobbles. “You can tempt me, but I won’t give in.”

Corenthian’s smile deepens, stretching at stitch. A hand forces mine away, my breasts spilling free.

He dives, his tongue dining at a peak—and I can see the swell of his tongue clear. Split, and it pinches at me, almost. Bar cold and damp, strings of saliva following his shift to the other. I fist his tangled hair.

Wish to keep my blush hidden, turning gaze away. I breathe heavy against pillow. The sensation is blank newness, feel filling the empty with definition. I am helpless to this, but there is a pleasure to my give.

He is too careful, to hurt me. Too gentle. I commend his control, for mine is being unraveled. Frayed at the edges. Heavy above, but I control much more. I hold the equanimity of his patience—command it so, and Corenthian cares for me, I realize. Really. Truly, cares for me. A requited affection, yet to be known a requited love.

“Take your taste,” I moan, arching heavily. He forces my legs open, proving the strength of his big, corded thigh. “You will not have more of me.”

He doesn’t wish to tell me his secrets, and I don’t know what hurts more. Him wanting to keep the truth to himself, out of something more than grief. Or, the ache that he has enflamed in my body. Such a hurting ache, it is.

His hips hump at the mattress, between my legs, like an animal. An animal rejected by their favor, but I have not chosen another. I have not deemed his show unworthy.

The head of his manhood peeks at every upthrust. A new color, each pass. Once pale and blue, now, ruddy and red.

Corenthian’s tongue rims at the button of my stomach.

“You have yet to honor our agreement.” Excuses slip my lips in weak protest. I want nothing more than all of him. “And, I have not washed.”

He returns to my swollen lips, tasting.

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