Last of the Sirens [Sirens and Sailors] (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Bella Settarra

  “Uh–uh,” he muttered, shaking his head, and he started a descent down her shivering body, kissing and licking down her breasts, then her midriff and her soft tummy.

  When he reached her panties, he quickly removed them. He gazed at her pussy, which was now dripping wet, before kissing it reverently and licking at her curly brown hairs.

  Amaranda bucked as his soft, hot tongue slid easily into her slit and he lapped at her juices. She felt like she was going to come on the spot, never having experienced anything remotely like this in her life! His probing tongue found its way up to her clit, which it circled, while he stroked her pussy with one hand, and fondled her ample bosom with the other. She closed her eyes, as spots of silver light appeared in front of her. She could feel her clit become engorged and tight as he lapped all the way from her perineum toward it, never quite touching it. Her hand tugged at his blond curls, while the other stroked her other breast, getting rougher as her arousal grew. Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more of his sensual licking, he swiped his tongue over her clit and she screamed as her whole body jerked up. The fire coursed through her, and everything clenched tightly. Eban put his finger into her vagina before offering it up for her to lick. Her juices tasted of salt, and she lapped at his finger, imagining it was his cock.

  As her breathing started to slow, she noticed him pulling at his own clothes. His massive cock sprung free of his trousers, and she leaned forward to stroke it.

  “With your mouth,” he whispered huskily, leaning over her face. He stretched behind him to stroke her pussy.

  Seeing the desire in his face, she willingly opened her watering mouth and licked at his dripping cock before enclosing her lips around it.

  “Suck hard,” he commanded breathlessly.

  She happily complied. It felt hard as rock, but the skin was like satin. She created a vacuum with her mouth and sucked as hard as she could, only to be rewarded by a loud hiss of his arousal.

  “Lick around the head,” he whispered in her ear, still stroking her pussy and slowly fondling her labia.

  Eagerly, Amaranda opened her mouth and held the stiff cock in one hand while she licked around the massive purple head, sticking her tongue into the little groove on the underside, and slurping the juices that leaked out of the top. Her breasts tightened again as her excitement grew, and she could hear him gasp with his own arousal. Her pussy suddenly clenched around his fingers and she jerked automatically.

  “I’m going to come,” he groaned, and shifted his body until his cock edged into her soaking pussy.

  “Do you want it?” he whispered desperately.

  “Yes—oh yes!” she cried as she grabbed his cock and pushed it into her.

  He thrust forward and came almost instantaneously with a loud moan. She felt his seed shoot inside her aching pussy, and she screamed her own climax, gripping his torso, digging her nails into his skin.

  Eban held her shoulders as he pushed long and hard into her soaking vagina. His cock began to shrink and she noticed his breathing starting to slow. He was looking down at her. His eyes looked full of wonder. She felt her skin flush and beads of sweat appear around her brow. She was panting, her mouth smiling. Her brown eyes were bright and shining up at him. He slowly withdrew from her pussy, cum pouring out with him, and he held her with one arm while he reached for a leaf to dry himself.

  A bloodcurdling scream tore them from their reverie, and they both jumped up in shock. Amaranda grabbed her bikini and followed her lover to the mouth of the cave. He stood stock-still, stunned at the scene before them. Women with wings and talons were violently attacking men who lay asleep or unconscious on the bare rocks. They tore the flesh from their bodies with loud screeches of excitement, and rose up into the air, triumphant and aroused, before tossing the bleeding flesh into the sea, as one might throw a petal from a flower.

  Eban’s jaw dropped open and his eyes glazed over at he stared in horror. Amaranda quickly dressed and stood beside him, tears gushing silently from her eyes as she gawped at the carnage in front of them.

  The Sirens swooped and soared over the dismembered bodies, victorious at their demonic achievement, and screeching their orgasms as they went. Reveling in their ecstasy, they laughed and cheered over the bloodstained rocks. Eventually their screams died down as they slowly glided back to Earth, their talons receding and their wings shrinking to nothing. With smiles of contentment, the naked women lay back in the sun, letting the waves wash over their sated bodies and clean the blood from the rocks.

  Amaranda tore her gaze from them to look up at Eban. He stood, naked before her, his face stunned, his expression like stone. His breathing was deep and his body was stiff. She couldn’t read him.

  Suddenly she pushed past him and ran around the side of the cave. Her stomach heaved and she threw up into the bushes, trying hard not to make a noise. Her head throbbed and she felt her knees go wobbly. Strong arms were impulsively holding her up, pulling her hair from her face. Amaranda felt too weak to be embarrassed, and let Eban hold her as the last of the bile spat from her mouth.

  “Let’s get you back inside,” he murmured, offering her a leaf with which to wipe her mouth.

  He lifted her up and carried her back into the cave, gently placing her onto the bed. Delving into the basket, he found the lemon drink and poured some into a wooden cup for her.

  “Here,” he said, offering it up to her lips.

  She sipped it gratefully, feeling it soothe her burning throat. The silence, which hung between them after that, was palpable. After placing the cup carefully beside her, Eban got dressed. Amaranda remembered the passion with which he had removed those clothes, feeling bereft that their joyous mood had evaporated so suddenly.

  She watched as Eban hid behind the large rock in the entrance, observing the Sirens gather their clothes and their ill-gotten bounty, and make their way toward the causeway. They chatted excitedly, recounting with pride the events that had just taken place. Eban looked sick and angry. He was obviously itching to go out there and challenge those women, take them down with his bare hands. But, thankfully, common sense prevailed. Not only were there twelve of them, but their screams would be heard from the main island, and many other women lived there—and they had weapons!

  Amaranda felt tears begin to trickle down her face and wiped them away angrily. Embarrassment had now taken hold of her. He’d watched her spill her guts! She also felt ashamed at her own people. How could they do that? She had always assumed that they were as cultured as those on the main lands were. Although they lived on an ancient island that followed its traditions instead of the New Laws, she had assumed that they were as sophisticated as the rest of the world. Maybe not! The realization that the whole world was not as she understood it to be was unnerving.

  “We need to leave tonight.” Eban echoed her thoughts as he broke the silence.

  He started to gather the remains of the food and replaced it in the basket.

  “Will there be supplies on the boat?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, feeling useless.

  She knew nothing about the boat, except its whereabouts. The elders were the only people allowed near it.

  “Don’t worry,” he said calmly. “We’ll manage.”

  Taking a deep breath, she started to roll up the spare Elmwood leaves. Eban had said it got cold at sea.

  “We’ll sleep before we go,” he said, seeing her eye up the makeshift bed. “It’s going to be a long night, and there’s nothing we can do until everyone’s asleep anyway.”

  He lay on the pile of leaves and pulled her down toward him. She relaxed as his warm body snuggled beside her. He didn’t seem as angry now, though his brain was obviously working overtime, judging by his pensive expression.

  “Do you know the way to the boat?” he asked softly.

  “Yes, we can swim out to it from here, or go across the island. Although if we go around the rocks along the outside we stand less chance of being seen, but it will
take a bit longer,” she said.

  “Is it guarded or alarmed?”

  “Hermandine watches it like a hawk from her house which overlooks it, but once she’s asleep we should be OK. She has a maid, Melantho, who lives with her, but that’s all. I don’t know what you mean by alarmed.” She shrugged.

  Although she realized that they were even more backward than he gave them credit for, Amaranda felt that in some ways it must work in his favor.

  “Is it moored in a harbor, or just tied to a rock?” he asked.

  “It’s tied to a rock in a sort of sheltered area,” she said. “The sea gets quite rough at night and sometimes it rains. Melantho goes down and checks on the boat sometimes when it gets really bad.”

  “Let’s hope she doesn’t tonight,” he replied, formulating his plan. “Come on, we need to get some sleep.”

  Amaranda cuddled his warm body as they lay together in the darkening cave. Excitement and anticipation hung in the air as they slowly drifted off to sleep.

  * * * *

  “Wake up, sweetheart.” Eban shook Amaranda’s arm gently.

  Opening her eyes, she remembered straight away what they planned to do. Her heart thudded as she shot to her feet.

  “Are we going now?” she asked, straining her eyes to see.

  There was a tiny shaft of moonlight peering through the cave mouth, and she could just make out Eban as he picked up the basket, the rolled up leaves already under his arm.

  “Yep,” he said, smiling as he held out a hand to her.

  Relieved to see that his mood had lifted, she took his hand and clambered outside. The fresh, briny air surrounded them as soon as they left the cave, and they were pleased to see that it was actually lighter outside, and they could see their way across to Refrainia.

  The tide was coming in as they picked their way across the rough causeway and skirted around the outside edge of the main island. There was a strong scent of flowers in the air, and the island was shrouded in darkness.

  “Don’t you have lights?” Eban whispered as his heavy boots thudded over the rocks.

  “Of course,” she replied, incredulously. “The sun and the moon.”

  Eban smirked, shaking his head—crikey, they were backward!

  As they rounded a bend, the rocks became larger, and he had to let go of her hand to steady himself as he climbed up. Amaranda was quite used to scrambling about on the rocks and took it completely in her stride. Eban smiled back at her, obviously impressed at how easily she climbed and jumped around. Although not as slender as some of the Sirens, she was quite elegant and agile.

  “How much farther is it?” he asked, panting after a while. He was leading the way, but neither could see very far ahead in the dark.

  “The other side of that little peninsular.” She pointed ahead to a shadow where the rocks jutted into the sea. It was quite a long way off.

  He sighed and took her hand.

  “Are you OK?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, nodding up at him. Her heart was thumping, partly because of him, partly because of what they were doing.

  “Come on,” he said and resumed his lead.

  The sea was becoming rougher as it splashed over the rocks. The rain started to pour, and the couple had to slow down as it became more slippery.

  “Looks like they might need to check on the boat tonight,” Eban growled, as his boot slid on some seaweed.

  Amaranda grabbed his waist to steady him, and he heaved a sigh of relief, smiling back at her.

  “Thanks,” he said, and leaned over to plant a kiss on top of her head.

  She flushed and smiled shyly.

  The waves looked almost black as they rolled toward them. White foam on the edges near the shore glistened in the moonlight.

  “We call those white horses,” Amaranda said, pointing to them. “Poseidon is the god of water and horses, he put them there.”

  “This place is incredible,” Eban said in awe.

  “Refrainia is steeped in ancient history,” she explained. “It’s not like the rest of the world. I know you’ve all moved on with your industries and governments, but it’s different here. Things haven’t changed here for millions of years.”

  “You’re sort of in a time warp?” Eban asked, astonished.

  “It must seem like it to you, but we’re actually not. The people chose to keep the island as it was. As we’re the only inhabited island left, we’re governed by ourselves—well, the elders, and Poseidon, of course.”

  Eban looked stunned, “So why don’t you all just get in your ship and go back to the mainland?”

  “Back? Only the elders have been to the outside world. The rest of us only know what we’ve been told, and they are not really allowed to tell us much. Pallas is my friend though, so she’s told me all sorts of things. The elders who went there decided we’re better off as we are. They don’t want to change. Our ancestors were happy living like this, so why shouldn’t we be? Since the rest of the world merged into two main lands, we’ve been forgotten about. The people here like it that way.”

  “You don’t,” he said slowly.

  She didn’t answer.

  They climbed stealthily over the flatter rocks as they spoke, blissfully unaware that they were being watched…

  Chapter 7

  Hermandine stood sternly at her bedroom window, a telescope in her wrinkled hand. She had been watching the intrepid couple clamber over the rocks toward the boat for some time.

  “Melantho, fetch the committee!” she ordered. “And the rest!”

  The little round maid scurried from the room and pulled on a big black shawl. She hated going out in the rain, and it was really pouring now. Running down the little street, she knocked on the doors of several of the tiny houses.

  “You must come, mistress,” she told each of the occupants, “Miss Hermandine has called for you.”

  Knowing that this could only be an emergency, the elderly ladies pulled on their dusty cloaks and shawls and grabbed their walking sticks before following the young girl back up the flooded road to where the largest house stood overlooking the peninsular. The soaked old dears filed, with some difficulty, up the narrow, stone steps to where Hermandine stood, still peering through her telescope. It was her prized possession, stolen from a ship some years ago.

  “Look,” she said, handing the instrument to Ophelie, “there are two of them.”

  Ophelie, dripping in her blue mac, took the telescope in her crippled hands, and, trembling, held it to her squinting eye. The old lady looked back at Hermandine, “What did you say, dear? I didn’t quite catch it?”

  “Oh, give it here,” Hermandine replied irritably. “Solon, you take a look.”

  “All right, dear.” Solon shook terribly, but took the telescope in both hands, and tried to hold it as still as she could in front of her eye. Rain rolled off her black cloak onto the bedroom floor.

  “What do you see?” Hermandine demanded.

  Solon could almost see double, as her hands shook so much! She could make out the dark sea, and in the forefront the whiteness of the rocks stood out in the moonlight. Through the downpour, she could just about make out some shadows, but that was about all.

  “At least three, I think, dear,” she said, apologetically, handing it over to Minerva, who stood next to her, gazing through the window.

  The elderly lady took the telescope carefully and held it up to her beady eye. Although she walked with a stick because of her age, her eyesight was fine.

  “You’re right, Hermandine, I can see two people,” she said firmly, then peering carefully she said, “I think one of them might be a man!”

  The old ladies gasped and shook their heads.

  “Never!” exclaimed Sofronia. “Let me see!”

  Poor Sofronia was almost blind, but in her determination she held the heavy telescope up to her eye. Everything was a blur. Most of it was a dark blur. She sighed in frustration.

  “Pallas, you try,” she said
shoving the offending item in the rough direction of her friend.

  Pallas took the instrument and looked through. Her blood ran cold as she recognized one of the figures scrambling over the slippery rocks toward the boat. They didn’t have far to go now, and the old lady willed them to hurry.

  “Well? Can you see them?” demanded Hermandine.

  “I fear I must be looking in the wrong place, dear,” Pallas said, shaking her head, and pointing the telescope in another direction.

  “Of course you’re not—give it here!” Hermandine leaned over to grab the heavy instrument, but Pallas threw it on the floor. There was a loud thud and a tinkling sound.

  Solon’s hands flew to her mouth as she gasped. Sofronia jumped in fright. Minerva let out a frustrated sigh. Pallas leaned down to retrieve the broken item.

  “Has something happened?” asked Ophelie looking over.

  “I’m so sorry, it fell. I think I’ve broken it,” Pallas murmured, handing it to Hermandine.

  A round glass lens lay on the floor, and the cunning old dear deftly trod on it, just to make sure it was well and truly broken as she stepped over to their hostess. She shook her head and tried to look apologetic.

  “What have you done?” Hermandine screeched in despair. “This is the only one we have! How will we function without it?”

  Not very well, given the eyesight of these old dears! Pallas shook her head, looking forlornly at the useless item. “Perhaps we could mend it, dear?” she suggested helpfully.

  Hermandine let out an angry huff as she took the telescope in her arms, cradling it like a baby. “It can’t be mended,” she snapped.

  “Oh dear, I’m so terribly sorry,” Pallas lied, stalling for time. “I’m so clumsy!”