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“And, beautiful little forest sprites.” He bites into his bottom lip then he nods toward the water.
“It’s just amazing.” I gape, looking around.
His fingers stay tight around mine as though he has no intention of ever letting go.
There’s a pulse down low and a clench in my center that has me flexing my inner muscles, trying to draw it out as Merrick walks us closer to the water’s edge and I wonder for a moment if I’m dreaming.
Merrick’s voice breaks me from my trance. “You’re what’s amazing. Amazing in a way I never imagined.” He grunts low. “I bet you hear that all the time.”
I shake my head, looking up at him, that flutter coming back, making my breath falter. There’s this dominant energy about him that sucks me in, that gives me tunnel vision. All I see is him.
“Not really.” I reply. “Men do say things. Boys, too. But not that. Most of them are lewd and entitled or they think I’m a freak because of my eyes. Like earlier after my dance, those guys…”
“I want to hurt all of them,” he says in a low drawl that turns the flutter I’ve been feeling into a ball of twisting heat. This desire is new to me, confusing and addicting. “Maybe worse.”
Merrick brings his fingers to the bridge of his nose and he squeezes there for a long moment on a curse, and I want to reach up and touch his face. I want to ease the tension I see, because if he’s aching the way I am, we both deserve relief.
He drops his hand, clenching it into a fist and pressing it over his lips before finally spreading his fingers and looking at me.
“Are you afraid of me?” he asks, and I see the distress he’s feeling. Sure, he’s the law, he has a gun, no one knows where we are…
But, still, he’s the one in distress right now. The one in need of assurance.
“No,” I snap, clear and sure. “I’m not.”
My life experience tells me otherwise, but the truth is I’m not.
He clears his throat before his next words. “Will you do something for me?”
My nipples pull tight at the question, wetness drenching my panties as the pulsing turns into a primal drumbeat in my core, my ovaries squeezing and I nod, wanting more than anything to hear what he wants me to do.
“What?”
“Dance for me. Here. I’ve always heard music here, with the water, the echo, the wind…in my dreams you’ve been what’s been missing. A dancing forest sprite…”
I drop his hand as my tummy clenches and I give him a little bow before stepping back.
“I need to feel the ground under my feet,” I answer, tugging the oversized brown socks from my toes as he watches.
“I do like your toes.” He half smiles as the words seems to struggle to escape his throat.
I throw my arms wide, head back, turning, wanting so desperately to please him, to give him what he wants, even if it is only a dance.
And to my own surprise, I was hoping for much, much more.
CHAPTER 7
MERRICK
The world is her stage and in the matter of an hour, she’s become my obsession. This girl I saw spinning and twirling has filled every empty crevice inside of me.
Watching her move to the music of nature; to the birdsong, the chirruping grasshoppers, the creak of branches and whatever melody plays inside her head, is infinitely more beautiful than what I saw at the fairgrounds earlier.
She’s one with the breeze and the waves of the water behind her. The lake and rocky cliff are her stage, and waves of heat course through me as I watch.
Her gauzy top and skirt catch the sun, revealing her thin silhouette beneath, and my cock twitches. The slight swell of her breasts and taut nipples are enticingly visible, and it makes my balls heavy like I’ve been saving a lifetime of what they hold just for her.
Something I’ve never considered before. I want to bend her over and rut into her like a caveman finding his mate. My cock, thrusting into her womb, leaving her full of my sticky warmth as we fuck here on the edge of the water like no one will ever find us.
And if I had my way, they wouldn’t.
She spins and dips down, tracing her fingers over the edge of the water and kicking up her back leg like a prima ballerina. High enough I see the splash of red fabric between her legs and I swear, or maybe it’s just wishful thinking but…there’s a darker, round spot where her body is telling me she wants the same thing I do.
Her eyes are closed as I walk and take a seat on the pine timber that’s long served as a bench on the property. My father and I carved out the center when I was nine or ten and the wood is smooth with decades of use.
