Beyond the Horizon

by Bea Paige

  “Promise me,” I repeat, drawing myself back.

  She pants, her mouth popping open, her hips undulating as her skin flushes. When she doesn’t answer immediately I lower myself down her body, kissing a blaze of heat from her breastbone, down the centre of her chest, over her stomach until finally I’m resting my lips against her pretty, pretty, sunset cunt.

  Breathing her in deeply, I growl, a sudden anger at her refusal to answer me bubbling beneath my skin. In one swoop, I punish her with my tongue. Pulling her folds gently apart, I lap at her, tasting her desire and smothering my lips and chin with her wetness. My tongue dips inside her tight little hole as I rim the delicate flesh. She cries out, grasping my head with her hands as she thrusts her hips up, desperate for more.

  I give her more.

  My tongue finds her little bud and I lick it delicately, alternating between using the tip of my tongue and the flat. Her taste of musk and something infinitely sweet explodes on my tongue as her excitement floods my mouth.

  “Little Siren, you taste so fucking good,” I groan, my dick damn near punching a hole in the duvet. I want to give in, give her the best fucking orgasm of her life but I need to know she’ll obey me. I have to know she’ll be safe. Just before she can reach the pinnacle of relief she’s so desperate for, I ask her the question one last time.

  “Promise me you’ll leave.”

  Her eyes flutter open, a deep fire burning within them as she meets my gaze. “I will,” she whispers.

  With that promise, I plunge my tongue deep inside her wet heat, my fingers rubbing in perfect motion over her clit. With patience and a desperate need to please her I lick, suck and tease her clit. Within a few minutes her tender walls are clenching and unclenching around my fingers that I replaced my tongue with as she cries out my name, her head thrashing at the intensity of the orgasm I give her. Gently removing my hand, I hold her steady, kissing her thighs and her lower stomach until her body goes lax and she lays before me in orgasmic bliss.

  But I’m not done.

  I’m nowhere near done.

  Rising upwards, I get off the bed and yank open the bedside cabinet, pulling out a condom. Tearing the foil I roll it over my throbbing cock, then climb over her and capture her parted mouth with my own. We kiss like two people who were always meant to be together and who’ve found nirvana in each other’s arms. This kiss, more than any other, breaks me wide open.

  “Malakai,” she whimpers, wrapping her legs around my waist and lifting her hips to meet mine. It’s all the encouragement I need.

  “Little Siren,” I lament, entering her in one deep thrust.

  I thrust deep, over and over.

  Her cries of pleasure fuel my need to make her mine, to mark her so deeply that she’ll never long for anyone bar me.

  I don’t allow her body to accommodate mine.

  I’m not tender.

  I’m not sweet.

  I fuck her with an angry heart and a tormented soul. My cock battering her walls, splintering my own internal ones with every hungry thrust. It’s feral, this need in me.

  Our hips clash.

  Our mouths bruise.

  Our fingers tear at each other.

  She’s so damn wet, her pussy so tight, that I fear coming too soon. Holding my breath and slowing my pace I manage to rein myself in. So many emotions swirl within me as I watch her lose all restraint beneath me. With her deep chocolate hair spread out around her, her pretty cupid’s bow mouth parted, and her skin dusted in a light sheen of sweat, she’s a wild creature that slices open my skin and forces her way inside my chest. Feelings plague me as I drill my cock deep inside of her over and over and over again. She whimpers, clawing at me, her nails digging into my back, scoring into my skin and drawing blood as I fuck her, adding more scars to an already scarred body.

  My ability to rein myself in is obliterated by her reckless need to have me, to pull me closer. Her legs tighten around my hips, her mouth bruising mine with kisses that shred me into a thousand pieces. With every thrust, my heart tears open, weeping for the inevitable loss. I don’t have any illusions that I will survive the oncoming confrontation with my cousin. But as long as he dies too, then I will go to Hell with the knowledge he’ll be by my side. That Connie will finally be safe.

  I feel her internal muscles spasming around me, clutching my cock tight within her and for one perfect moment I allow myself to fall.

  I unravel, falling into her.

  Falling more deeply in love with her.

  Because I do love her. Goddamn my useless, broken heart. I love this girl.

  It’s dark the way I love her. It’s brutal and feral and more real than anything I’ve ever experienced before. It scares me. It scares me like nothing else.

  I could lose her.

  The pain of that realisation is forced away as we come together, stars blinding me as my eyes roll back in my head, her whimpers a siren’s song I shall take with me to the grave. After three shuddering breaths I pull out of her, my cock leaking, my heart breaking and my fucking good for nothing soul shattering. Three words simmer on my lips, three words that have no place here. Forcing them down, I rip myself away from her and stand vibrating with loss as I replace the mask. One solitary word leaves my lips. One word that scars Connie as deeply as it scars me…

  “GO!”

  Thirty-Three

  Connie

  I did leave just like I promised I would.

  And I came back because I never promised I wouldn’t.

  A few days after leaving for the mainland, I returned on the last ferry back to the island knowing that another wouldn’t set sail until the winter storm they’d predicted would hit our little island had passed. Outside that same storm blows violently beneath the ebony darkness of a day that hasn’t quite yet been graced with the first tendrils of dawn. The house creaks and groans, battered by the high winds and the angry sky filled with thunder and freezing rain. It wasn’t an easy decision to return. I knew only too well how Malakai would feel, so I drew up a list to help me to decide. In the end, my need to return home to the people I love won out.

  Malakai might never forgive me for my decision, but I won’t let him, or Grandma, face the King on their own. Right now Grandma is asleep in bed, oblivious to the extreme weather that rages on. She’s still sick, but it isn’t a physical condition that can be cured by medicine or drugs. No, Grandma’s illness is one that has been years in the making. She’s stayed strong for me. She’s refused to give in like my mother had and, apart from this island, remained the one and only constant in my life.

  But that energy is waning.

  She’s tired.

  Though, if I know my Grandma as well as I think I do, she’ll never give in. Unlike my mother, she loves me enough to stay and because of that, I loved her enough to return.

  Malakai will be livid. He will no doubt punish me for disobeying him, and I will accept his cruel words and angry glares because they’re inconsequential in my absolute conviction that I had to return to the island to help him.

  He doesn’t have to do this alone.

  Neither of them do.

  So, late last night, I came back, probably crossing Malakai as he sailed his boat to the mainland. Grandma wasn’t happy, not in the slightest, but she accepts that I’m as strong-willed as Malakai and that trying to force us apart will only make me fight back harder. I’m not a child anymore and I refuse to be coddled like one.

  Gently, I tap on her bedroom door, pushing it open when I hear her muffled greeting.

  “Hey, Grandma, how are you feeling?” I ask gently, stepping into the room which is lit by a nightlight more suited to a child than an elderly woman.

  “I’m not dead yet, darling,” she retorts, cracking her eyes open and sitting up in bed.

  “Don’t joke,” I scold her gently.

  “Death is an inevitability, Connie.”

  “It’s not one I want to think about today of all days.” Tonight she is going to dinner with
the King whilst Malakai and the gang he’s collecting from the mainland, right this moment, rescue their friend who’s held prisoner.

  “You don’t need to worry, child. We can count on Malakai.”

  I nod. “I know.”

  “You’re worried about seeing him?” she asks, cocking her head to the side.

  “He’s going to be furious.”

  “Honestly, I wouldn’t blame him. You were safer on the mainland.”

  “You understand that I couldn’t let you do this… what would I do if something happened to you, Ma, or to Malakai? I’d have no one.”

  “You’d have your life.”

  Sitting on the bed beside her, I reach for her hand. It feels cold, her skin papery and thin. “I’d be empty without either of you. I’d be a ghost. I don’t want to live like that. I won’t.”

  For a long time Grandma just looks at me, then she nods, smiling sadly. “I understand that better than most.”

  “Do you wish you had died with Grandpa John too?” I ask quietly, my voice a whisper. Tears well in my eyes at the thought. This is the closest I’ve ever got to admitting that I know about Mum and Dad’s suicide.

  She squeezes my hand tightly, and with her free hand lifts my chin so that I’m looking at her. “I do not regret one second of my life,” she says fiercely. “I loved Grandpa John with everything I had, but I love you child, so very, very much. Do not think for one second that I haven’t been happy, that I haven’t experienced joy. I have, because of you.”

  She pulls me into her arms and crushes me against her chest. We hold onto one another, accepting that life isn’t straightforward, but a series of uphill battles and twists and turns. After a few minutes she lets me go, giving me a courageous smile, a little of the Grandma I’m used to is back. “So, Connie, what are we to do?”

  “I’m going to the Palace with you, Grandma.”

  She doesn’t try to dissuade me, knowing better than anyone that my mind is made up. Instead, she squeezes my hand. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

  “You aren’t going to try and persuade me to stay here?”

  “No, Connie, not this time, but I am going to ask you to trust me. Whatever happens tonight, know that I love you dearly.”

  “Of course, I know that already.”

  “Good. Now, I need to sleep. Malakai will be here soon, and I need to show these youngsters that whilst I might be old, I am certainly very able.”

  “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

  “I’m certain I’m ready to put an end to the King’s tyranny. That has to be enough.”

  Giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead and pulling her covers up higher, I let her rest. It’s still only the early hours of the morning after all.

  Little over an hour later I hear a fist pounding on the front door and ready myself for the inevitable argument. Malakai will feel justified in his anger, but I’m ready for it. Pulling the door open, I’m confronted with the huge frame of Malakai. For a moment he just stands and stares, a multitude of warring emotions tumbling behind his eyes alongside the heavy, lashing rain that pours in rivulets down his skin.

  “Why are you here?” he says, untold anger blazing.

  “Nice to see you too, Malakai,” I respond. Stepping aside I force myself to remain calm.

  He storms past me, revealing a rag tag group of four boys and two girls, one who has eyes that remind me of Malakai’s even though they’re a completely different shade. There’s a wildness in them, an untameable energy. I like her immediately.

  “Don’t mind him, he’s an arsehole,” I say flippantly, not meaning it, but putting it out there that I’m not someone who will roll over and submit just because his anger is as loud as the thunder rumbling above us. Behind me, Malakai makes a noise that could rival the wild storm battering our little island.

  “Couldn’t have put it better myself,” one of the boys’ mutters, giving me a weak smile. He looks like shit, his skin ghostly and tinged green.

  “Bad crossing?” I ask, as the group piles into the house, teeth chattering and smelling of the ocean.

  “It was hell,” another of the group responds, pulling off his baseball cap and holding his hand out to shake. “My name’s Sonny, thanks for having us here, Ma Silva.”

  My mouth drops open and I tip my head back and laugh. “Oh my god, I’ve never, ever, been mistaken for my grandmother. Mum, maybe, but Grandma? Nope. Priceless.” I swipe a hand over my face and grin, they all watch me with guarded expressions. Except this guy Sonny, he’s grinning. “I’m Connie. If you haven’t already guessed, Ma Silva is my grandmother and right now she’s got a headache. This time from a cold,” I lie, “And not from the three glasses of port she usually knocks back every night.” Fact of the matter is, she’s exhausted, emotionally, physically from life, from existing for so long without Grandpa John. A twinge of guilt pangs my heart. Staying away would’ve been better for her, for Malakai’s peace of mind, but not for mine. They either accept I’m here because I’m part of this family too, or they don’t. Either way, I’m in this mess with them.

  Shutting the front door, I motion them all to follow me into the kitchen. They pile in behind me and whilst I feel all their eyes on me, I’m acutely aware of Malakai’s angry glare and tight mouth that’s just about holding on to words he wants to cut me with.

  “I thought you were on the mainland?” he asks, ignoring everyone else in the room and pinning his gaze on me.

  “I caught the ferry home yesterday evening. Grandma needed me,” I shrug. You need me too, I think, but I don’t say that part out loud. “Like I said, she’s feeling a little under the weather. She told me you had to go to Hastings on business. I’m guessing this is the business she was talking about?” I ask, feigning ignorance in front of the new arrivals. It’s probably better for now that I pretend I don’t know exactly what’s going on. Though I’m fully aware that bastard the King has their friend, Pink, and they’re here to rescue her. Dragging my gaze away from Malakai and back to the group, I look at each of them in turn, giving them a warm smile. They’re uncertain of me, Malakai too, by the glances they throw his way. I don’t blame them, he’s an impenetrable arse most of the time. But I know the real him, I’ve seen into his depths and he isn’t the man he tries to convince everyone he is.

  The group stand shivering in their drenched clothes. I watch as one of the boys approaches the girl with the lip ring. He’s the one who looks the most ill. I think I heard her refer to him as Eastern, but I can’t be sure. I feel for him, the ocean is unforgiving, and tonight their journey to the island must have been rocky. Thank god Malakai is a good sailor and got them all here in one piece.

  “What?” the girl with dark eyes says to him.

  “Your lips, they’re blue,” he points out, drawing her into his arms. They stand shivering, whilst the rest look on. The dark-skinned boy with startling topaz eyes frowns. I know that look, it’s a look of possession and want, though he doesn’t appear to be fazed by their affection, the opposite, actually. Interesting.

  “You need to get your clothes off,” Malakai snaps. I turn to face him, but he isn’t looking at the group dripping water onto the kitchen floor, he’s looking at me. My skin flushes in heat as I snatch my gaze away. Plastering a smile on my face, I push away the rush I feel at being in such close proximity to the man I love.

  “Clothes off,” Malakai repeats, glaring at the poor girl still encased in the shivering boy’s arms.

  “What this brute meant to say is, you should go upstairs and change. All of you. I’m pretty sure none of you want to catch pneumonia. There’s plenty of room for everyone, just avoid the two rooms at the end of the corridor, they’re mine and my Grandma’s. I’ll serve up some breakfast at eight am, that should give you all enough time to freshen up and get warm. There’s an en-suite bathroom in the largest room at the top of the stairs and another bathroom second on the right,” I smile, fully aware that Malakai is boring a hole in the back of my he
ad with his glare. “Help yourself to towels and things…” My voice trails off as they all look at me like I’ve just offered to spill blood or something.

  “You’re just going to let a bunch of strangers enter your house, make themselves comfortable and then cook them breakfast?” the boy, I think is called Eastern, asks me.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” I shrug.

  “Because you don’t know us,” the other girl with dark hair says, her eyebrows pulling together in a frown. They all seem to have a hard edge, and given their backgrounds and the fact they’ve busted out of a reform school to get here, I guess I shouldn’t be all that surprised.

  “Well, what can I say? It must be the trusting country bumpkin in me. Either that, or I happen to know Malakai will protect me if any of you get any funny ideas, which you won’t, I’m sure.” I flash Malakai a look, knowing he’d do just that. He presses his mouth in a hard line whilst his moss green eyes light with possession, need and anger. “We can catch up in a couple of hours, okay? Nice to meet you all.”

  They shuffle their feet, still feeling a little uncertain. Behind me Malakai coughs, folding his arms across his chest when I look at him. He’s trembling, and his lips too have a slight blue tinge, but I know he’ll never admit to feeling cold. “You okay, Malakai?” I ask him, trying to supress the smile desperate to break free.

  “I could do with getting out of these wet clothes too,” he snaps.

  “Yes, you could… but, alas, all the rooms are taken. Including mine,” I add.

  The scowl on his face darkens with my denial. He’s furious that I’m here, but there’s nothing he can do about that now. I never promised I wouldn’t return, only that I’d leave. He should’ve been more explicit with his instructions. Besides, I kind of like the idea of him stripping in the front room away from our newly arrived guests and closer to me. “You can change in the lounge.” I smile sweetly, trying to soften the blow a little, then turn and watch the group walk out of the kitchen, winking at the girl with the lip ring. She grins back.