Rive_Little Mermaid Retold

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Rive_Little Mermaid Retold Page 10

by Daniela Jackson


  His body stiffens against mine as his cock thickens and pulses in my pussy, and he fills me up with his come. He buries his face into the back of my neck, his breath scorching, tickling.

  “You’re mine,” he says. “I will fight against heaven and hell to keep you.”

  “And you’re mine.”

  There is power inside of me. This power gives me certainty. I want my husband. I want my family. I’m going to stand by Kadmiel’s side and fight against whoever comes to take this happiness from me.

  Kadmiel watches me for a moment. “I like your attitude, princess.”

  ***

  We’re living in the compound hidden in the woods so nobody can find us. The building we’re occupying is a devastated one hundred-and-fifty-year-old brick factory. The stone walls wear black smudges from the smoke that circled inside when the factory served its purpose. Now, rust covers the once beautiful iron details. The boys are working hard to restore this building to its former glory. Our life is difficult, unpredictable. But it’s a funny life, actually.

  The boys are making moonshine, using angel recipes, and selling it. I’m pregnant again. My daughter, Talia, is seven months old now.

  I’m a mother, a wife, a lover, a friend. A cook. A cleaner. A nasty bitch when the boys are drunk. The new me kind of intrigues them. It makes Kadmiel absolutely mad about me, I mean our sex life, of course. It’s so intense that I begin to think that I’m going to be pregnant forever.

  Kadmiel is the president of his club and he loves his new position.

  He loves my daughter, the baby in my womb and me even more.

  Kadmiel

  I stroke her pregnant belly as she moves on my lap.

  Micah is rocking Talia in the crook of his arm. And fucking hell, he is a really good nanny for my daughter.

  I’m still asking myself why my boys chose this life. The pain in our backs settled but it may return from time to time. We are damaged for eternity.

  We’re happy.

  The boys are looking for wives. With no luck so far.

  We’re still fighting demons but since our wings are gone forever we need to master team work. It’s fun though. It’s more about watching one another’s ass and cooperate. Gambling is also more challenging now, but we’re very quick learners, so it brings us a pretty decent income. Sometimes, we’ll remove a piece of scum from the face of the earth. Like two months ago for example. Theo met a human girl who was abused by her boyfriend. He ended his miserable existence and freed the girl. She was grateful, but apparently not grateful enough to become Theo’s girlfriend. Theo was drunk for three days then he decided to get this over with and forgot about her.

  We’re not perfect, but nobody is, right?

  Talia is my little treasure as are my wife and the baby in her belly.

  I love my new life. It tastes like heaven. I’ve never been to heaven. Fuck, I don’t even know whether it exists or not, but my life definitely is my private heaven. My sense of duty evaporated the moment the demons chopped off my wings. I’m free. Free like a human. Free to choose the life I want to live. And I must admit free will is a fucking good feeling.

  I sometimes think that there must have been a fucking purpose for all the changes in my life. I just fucking know something good can come out of it.

  Rive feels good. No, she feels divine. Everything is so fucking intense about being with her. I love it when I return from a business trip and she’s waiting for me, naked, on all fours. Soaking wet for me. I will just open my jeans and drive my aching cock into her hot cunt.

  Soon, my three other daughters are born. My life is crazier, but even happier. Well, Rive refuses to get pregnant again.

  She punches me in the face when I tell her I once wiped her memories away. But, that’s okay, I guess.

  Chapter 11

  Kadmiel

  I sneak into the bedroom on my tiptoes not to wake Rive. The yellow glow emitted by the bedside lamp layers the interior like dim magic, like an aura. My wife’s face looks peaceful and alluring, her eyes closed, her breathing steady.

  My cut has two rips. My t-shirt is stained with blood. I have two broken fingers. Micah and I taught another club how to do business. We left four broken limbs, six broken noses and two corpses behind. The Hungry Dogs MC will obey the rules now. They will be humble from now on.

  Micah and I parted about fifty miles from the compound. He hadn’t snatched up any chick so he went to the whorehouse. I’m the lucky one to have my own eager pussy waiting for me in my bed.

  I go to have a shower and after, I lie down beside my wife, my naked body still damp. I need to fuck. I haven’t seen her for a week. My dick is so hard that it aches. My balls ache. I need to shake off the adrenaline and feel my wife’s body beneath mine. I need to squeeze her soft curves. I need to hear her sweet moans.

  “Rive, princess, I’m home.” I kiss her cheek as my hand dives between her thighs and I spread her folds.

  She mumbles something unintelligible and inhales deeply as I push a finger into her little cunt and work her slowly.

  “Wake up, princess.” I roll her on her stomach and pull her nightdress up.

  She purrs as I press my chest against her back, pulling her panties aside. I sink my cock into her heat and she moans.

  “Did you miss me, princess? Tell me.”

  “I missed you as hell.”

  I thrust into her slowly. “Did you touch yourself when I was away?”

  “I did.”

  My inner animal growls in excitement. I lift her so she’s on all fours and I kneel behind her. I rip her panties off her, tossing them onto the floor.

  I’m going to do dirty things to her. I need it very dirty. I need it hard.

  “Touch yourself, Rive.”

  My wife starts massaging her clitoris, her cunt clenched around my cock like a hot wet heaven. I insert a finger into her mouth and she sucks my digit as she would suck my dick.

  “You know what I’m going to do now?” I say and pull my finger out.

  “Tell me,” she gasps.

  “I’m going to fuck you in the ass at last.”

  Rive freezes. I’ve always wanted to taste how tight her other opening would be, but she never allowed me to.

  “Tell me you want me to fuck you in the ass,” I demand.

  I circle her tight hole with my finger covered in her saliva then push it in, just a fingertip. Rive likes it when I’m working her tight opening with my finger. I hear her sweet moans as I stretch her gently.

  “Tell me, princess.”

  “I want you to fuck me in the ass.”

  Fuck yeah. At last.

  I push my finger deeper into her asshole then pump it in and out. Rive breathes heavily, her muscles tensing and relaxing alternately. I can sense her urgent need for release.

  I pull my cock out of her pussy. It’s covered with her juices. I hold it and line it up with her tight hole.

  Rive

  The head of his hard cock throbs against my tight opening. I know how much he craves my ass so I spread my knees wider for him. He slaps my ass cheek with his palm lightly and pushes in. Then he stops moving as his palm caresses my lower back.

  I stiffen at the burning pain from his intrusion. Nausea rolls over me. My heart jumps to my throat. Only the head of his cock is buried inside of me, but it hurts like hell. I knew it would hurt. White flashes dance in my head as I remain frozen with my back arched.

  “Breathe, baby,” my husband says in a menacing voice.

  I know he is on the brink. I know he can’t stop. I don’t want him to. My ass belongs to him as do my mouth and my pussy.

  I feel his thumb rubbing against my clitoris as he pushes his cock deeper into my ass, slowly, inch by inch. The stinging and burning make me pant. My insides twist. My body is all pain. A decadent pain.

  His hand travels to the back of my neck and he pushes down. My cheek rests against the pillow while my ass is in the air, impaled on his cock.

  Kadmiel do
esn’t move, half-buried inside of me, waiting for my body to accommodate him. We’re hanging in this hot mix of dirt and decadence.

  “So fucking tight,” he growls and buries his cock balls deep inside me.

  I cry out. My body trembles. I see blackness in front of my eyes. I’ve never been stretched like this.

  His thumb massages my swollen nub and it feels better at last. My body softens. A wave of forbidden pleasure surges through me.

  “Tell me to fuck you,” Kadmiel says.

  “Fuck me,” I say. “Fuck me hard.”

  I take his hand away from my clitoris and rub myself.

  “Fuck yeah,” Kadmiel growls and moves his hips against my ass.

  I’m a dark instinct; I’m my elemental need for release. His cock slides in and out, as pleasure builds in my tummy, jolt after jolt.

  He buries his cock balls deep in my ass with each thrust, and my whole being starts rising towards the stars.

  Kadmiel

  She’s so fucking hot and tight that I feel insane. I fuck her harder. Deeper. My balls slap against her ass with each thrust. I fuck her faster. There is no sense of control left inside me, just my primal need for release.

  Rive moans louder and louder, then her body shakes and her voice halts. It pushes me over the edge. I ram into her hard, wrenching in every jolt of my bliss. I come hard. So hard there is pure blackness in my head.

  Then we collapse onto the bed, sweat covering our bodies, the smell of sex heavy around us.

  I fucking love my life. Every second of it. My lips search for Rive’s and we kiss tenderly.

  As I steady my breath, I crawl off the bed and go to the bathroom. I wash myself and grab the towel then return to bed and wipe away my cum dripping from Rive’s ass. She rolls on her side as I toss the towel onto the floor and enclose her in my embrace.

  “You enjoyed it,” I rasp into her ear.

  “I did.”

  “Me too.” I bury my face into her neck.

  Rive sighs. “You’re wounded.”

  “Just a few scratches.”

  “If you get yourself killed—“

  “I always come back in one piece.”

  She snorts. “If you don’t, I’ll find you. And I’ll kill you again, I promise.”

  “That’s a fair deal.”

  “I love you.”

  I tickle her chest. “Say that again.”

  She chuckles. “Now it’s your turn.”

  I kiss her lips. “You are everything to me. I love you.”

  ***

  Days pass. My daughters grow and when they become young women, my boys start acting kind of weird. Crazy even. Like something has changed their personalities.

  But that’s another story.

  Thank you for reading my book.

  If you like ‘Rive’ you may also like ‘Sive’.

  Sive

  By

  Daniela Jackson

  Shadow Wolves MC Book 1

  Description

  ***

  Axel

  My rationality screams that I’m a pervert, but my body recognises a woman in her. She’s eighteen, right? An adult? A woman with large tits and a hot pussy. And she will sleep in my bed tonight.

  Sive

  I’m only eighteen. I had meningitis at the age of fourteen. I’m disabled but I’m not stupid. I can steal a car. Or even four cars.

  ***

  This book is intended for adult audiences only.

  Chapter 1

  Sive

  My mother’s coffin rests at the bottom of the grave and the attendants of the funeral slowly disperse in all directions of the cemetery. Their eyes are sliding over me as though I’m a sculpture from a medieval church.

  The sky cries with me. The cold drops prick my face like icicles and merge with my tears. A chill creeps under my black velvet coat, biting me, and my body shivers. My teeth chatter together as a cloud of vapour leaves my mouth. The world around me is all sadness, mist and greyness. I’m grey inside too. Sad and lonely. But most of all I’m scared to death.

  I know he killed her. My dear stepfather. He leans over me and lays his hand on my shoulder.

  “I’m waiting in the SUV,” he says in an informative tone and brushes my temple with his lips. His predatory fingers hold a soaked tendril of my almond hair and his steel glance flicks over my lips. “Take your time, Sive.”

  I bob my head at him and send him a forced smile.

  “But not too long, angel,” he adds. “It’s raining.”

  Owen thinks that I adore him. I even allowed him to kiss my lips last evening and pretended that he made me the happiest girl on the face of the earth. But the truth is that I hate him. He is a calculating monster, a psychopath and a murderer. That boyish handsome face of his obscures his ruthless black soul.

  A wave of nausea courses through me as his hungry eyes roam over me, and he walks off. I wait until I’m the only person by my mother’s grave and dig my hand into my bag. My fingers palpate the heels of my trainers. I take them out to replace the black velvet shoes on my feet.

  There is not much time. Adrenaline fills my veins. I’m shaky.

  Owen will wait maybe ten more minutes before he starts suspecting something. I turn around as my eyes roam over the cemetery. My lungs expand; the earthy scent of soil burns the memory into my head and my fingers roll into fists. I start running. And I don’t look back.

  My heart thumps in my ears as I rush past the gravestones; they are like silent witnesses of my desperation. The grass bends under my soles and mud covers my legs up to my knees.

  A high metal fence obstructs the way to my safety, but I don’t hesitate. My fingers close around the pickets and my foot rests against the horizontal railing. The coldness of the metal causes me pain as I pull myself up and clumsily fight against the obstacle. My first attempt leaves me with deep scratches on my palms and mud on my ass. I growl, inhale deeply then my hands clutch the upper horizontal railing. It does the trick and I swing my body over the fence, ripping my coat. I land on all fours. I’m outside the cemetery.

  Strange, but I stop being a human. I’m a hunted animal and my basic survival instinct is all that guides me. I’m a heavy breath, a sharp vision and a cold mind. Nothing more.

  My eyes spot an old car parked along the pavement. I take a wooden wedge and a long rod out of my bag. Who would suspect that a disabled girl like me could attempt to steal a car? I learnt how to do it during the final semester in my catholic school. Theoretically. This will be my first practical attempt.

  I wedge the car door open and insert the rod. The rain blinds my eyes as I manipulate the lock feverishly and look over my shoulder every ten seconds. The rod presses the lock button and I’m in. Now to start the engine. I sit behind the steering wheel and remove the plastic cover, identifying the three main bundles of wires. If I connect the wrong ones, the electric shock will knock me out in an instant.

  My face averts for a split second. Panic rushes through my veins. A tall figure blurs in the distance behind the cemetery’s fence. Owen is hunting me. My hands tremble as I take a deep breath. Now, even death is better than he is. The wires stick together and the engine rasps but it doesn’t start properly. Damn it. Again. It rasps for longer as I recite ‘Our Father’ in my mind, disconnecting and connecting the wires back again. The engine rumbles and my mind switches to a focussed mode as I drive off with a squeal of the tyres.

  I’m disabled not stupid but the majority of people who meet me think the opposite. I have planned my escape for three months as soon as I realised that Owen would finish off my mother and I couldn’t do anything about it. There was no proof and the option of calling the police would not work either. Owen is the police. The second in command at the age of forty-four.

  I change the car every hour, take a bus, then steal a car again. Hunger torments my insides and thirst clouds my vision as I drive farther and farther and don’t even allow myself to stop to pee.

  Fourteen hours later,
I park at a petrol station in the middle of nowhere. The sun rises to its highest point and its touch burns the nape of my neck. I visit the toilet, change my clothes, fuel the car and buy a bottle of spring water with a ham sandwich.

  Two tumbleweeds roll in front of me as I cross the road. Deadness and emptiness mix with the wind’s whistling. Pulling the car door open, I shudder at the touch of somebody’s sweaty hot hand on my shoulder. I turn around and my glance meets a pair of icy blue eyes. They belong to a man in his thirties. Grey hair slipping below his cap contradicts the boyishness of his face but his whole being oozes something threatening, hidden under the calm of his smile.

  “Are you okay, sweetie?” he asks.

  His hand corrects the collar of his chequered shirt. His fingers move with the same predatory precision as Owen’s.

  I nod at him and plunge into my car, slamming the door shut. He doesn’t like it. His face winces in cold fury which urges me to start the car as fast as possible and escape from him.

  I would recognise a man as a psychopath from three steps, just by glancing at them. That man is one; I can feel it on the brink of my consciousness. Nausea rolls over my stomach.

  The car shoots forward and I sigh with relief. I drive along the empty road. On both sides of it, dry land stretches like a never-ending sea of sand. Cacti and ironwood trees stand like monuments, refusing to die under the fire coming down from the cloudless sky year after year. The primal energy of the surroundings stirs the very atoms of my body, and I lose myself in that eternal power for a long while.

  My car shakes and the steering wheel vibrates like something is pulling it backwards. I swallow thickly and start ‘Our Father’ in my mind. I have no phone and there is nobody here. If the car breaks down, returning to the petrol station will take me more than half an hour. My foot presses the gas pedal harder, but the vehicle shakes back and forth, slowing down. I deviate from the road towards the margin and the tyres screech against the sand. My car is dead and I’m fucked. I know nothing about cars.

 

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