Page 18 of Taken
The demon doesn’t seem to like me much, but hedidgive me food, water and a hot roll in the hay. I mean, he scares the shit out of me, they all do, and I’m not loving the fact that he bites me and drinks my blood—that can’t be good for my health. Overall, though, I could be doing way worse. Way, way…What is that?
I stop. “Pam?” The food in my mouth tastes like ass and is hard to choke down.
“Yes…Rhen?”
Swallowing my food down with a gulp of water, I’m panting as I ask, “Can you see what that is up ahead?”
“Certainly…Rhen. Can you raise your watch? The sensors will work more effectively if pointed toward the horizon.”
I do what she says, squinting at the world, trying to focus on the smudge of brown where the orange sand and pale blue sky meet. I wait, drinking from my pitcher. I pop another piece of meat into my mouth and chew. I’m sweating profusely, all but melting into the ground beneath me.
“It would seem that the object in the distance is retreating…Rhen. You are safe to move forward. I suggest you do so with haste…Rhen.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m going,” I grumble, resuming my slow, trudging jog.
“If you proceed at your current pace, the incoming target will overtake you in several minutes.”
I choke on the food in my mouth, hacking until I’m able to upchuck and spit it out. “Incoming?You said it was retreating!” I wipe my wrist across my lips and glance around wildly, seeing nothing.
“Yes…Rhen. The creatureaheadof you is retreating, likely in fear of the creature incomingbehindyou. I believe it may be one of the beings within the community you have taken refuge with. However, I am too far to get a clear…reading. I would suggest picking up your pace to eight miles an hour…Rhen.”
My chest seizes. All those little flecks of sadness that nobody from the camp noticed my disappearance have dried right up, the residue left behind souring on my tongue and tasting an awful lot like panic. Stumbling to a stop, I whip around, and there, where there were tents before and a sail exists now, I can see a speck of glimmering movement growing larger and larger…
“Porra!” I whisper under my breath.
“I suggest you run now…Rhen.”
“Fuck you, Pam,” I shout, doing just as she says and breaking out into a sprint as fast as my legs will carry me.
“Thank you, again, for the offer…Rhen…however, I am not a sexual…”
“It’s a joke!”
“Ha. Ha ha ha ha…”
“Aghahhahaa!” I screech my frustration and sprint for my life—well, notmylife, but the lives of the rest of the Sucere participants and maybe the whole of humanity. The water in my pitcher sloshes onto my face because I still haven’t let go of it.
“Blaughh!” I toss the thing aside—no, I don’t. My hand doesn’t release it because panic has made all my muscles clench. Instead, I’m blinded by another burst of water in my face and trip, my arms windmilling. I fly.
Landing hard on my free hand because I’m still clutching the pitcher in my right, I notice, as I lie there in the dirt, that Pam—sweet, sensual Pam—has gone utterly quiet. If she had a body, I imagine she’d be standing somewhere nearby shaking her head, maybe sobbing into a kerchief. Either that or sharpening her knife.
He’s on me in the time it takes for me to get up on hands and knees.He, because I knew who it was the second I saw the figure on the horizon shimmering. I felt him.
He’s in his even more massive, white-haired, fully scaled form, and he doesn’t look exactly thrilled to see me. “Hey, buddy…” I start, but he steps over me and places his massive foot in the center of my back. He shoves me into the sand, and before I know what’s hit me, he’s slicing open the back of my jumpsuit and lowering himself onto me.
“Oh shit…”
His hands are enormous, the size of dinner plates, and that’s without the claws. His claws give him another thirty centimeters in diameter, and I don’t love the concerns I have for my mental health when I realize that I like him like this. Huge and monstrous. Great Gatsby, I was made for this world, wasn’t I?
His scaled arm plants into the ground above my head. He’s so big, my face is pressed to the hard ground somewhere under his chest. His massive hand plucks the pitcher out of my grip and tosses it aside before his three claws trace a dangerous line over my bare back. The threat is implicit and my pussy gets wet while my mouth goes dry.
I arch my back and present my bare ass to him. He screeches in that terrible, terrifying way he does, and then slides that clawed hand underneath my lower belly. He pops my hips up and before I know what’s happening, his huge cock is pushing at my entrance.
I’m still sloppy wet with his cum and my slick, so he has no trouble at all entering me. “Oh fuck me,yes. Lacchus…”
He screeches again and I shudder all over as his tri-forked tongue comes down onto my back. He licks my neck, the wounds from last night and this morning little pinpricks that burn under his ministrations. His tongue is hot and soft, feathery and delightful. I moan as his huge finger slides over my clit. He starts to rub. My wail is that of a mad woman, but I don’t temper it. Couldn’t if I tried. The sensations lighting through me are enough to make a grown woman cry. I might be crying.
I press my hips back to meet his next thrust and he screeches softly against the nape of my neck. The girth of his cock is euphoric, my G-spot is sobbing in ecstasy while new places I didn’t know existed inside of my body all at once come to life. His cock stretches me wide as he pounds into me without mercy. The way I’m letting him use me would have made even avó Maria look like a nun.
