Vexed: A Tidal Kiss Novella (The Tidal Kiss Trilogy Book 5)

by Kristy Nicolle

  I look deeply into his eyes as they dilate once again, this time fully, reflecting my own shadow and arousal back at me. Positioning myself, I lick my bottom lip and then his before sliding him inside me with a single, ferocious backward motion. He grunts, eyes widening as he strains against my grip, and his legs part, trying to taper the sensation and regain control. I lean back onto his thighs, letting his hands go free, knowing he is far too deeply entrenched in me to even think about moving.

  Rising and falling, it starts to build between us again, and I pick up my pace until we’re both so far into the dark realms of excruciating ecstasy that the world around us dissolves into that of mere sensation.

  It’s a rage, pain-fuelled, act as it goes on. He bites me, claws at my flesh, curses me and damns me to hell. I feel him pulsating inside as he fills me over and over again, causing my insides to ache and my flesh to tremble, tender and slick with undeniable yet unwelcome need around him. We both cling on to silence wherever we can, wanting the act to last forever, as we tear at flesh and smash into each other repeatedly and without restraint like a merciless tide during the world’s first storm.

  In the last moments as he swells, driving himself into me now with a lack of ability to control himself, he causes me to shudder as a final, agonisingly sweet, edge takes over my entire body. It emanates most excruciatingly from my groin, his pelvis grinding against my clitoris. I growl, feral and demented as I feel him pour his rage into me, scorching hot and deep, only slickening me further and increasing the intensity of it all. I clench around the unforgiving, unrelenting hardness of him and climax, throwing my head back and digging my nails into his pectorals as a scream escapes my lips and I let go in a torrent of rage, pain and anguish atop him.

  The darkness runs through me as I work out the ache, grinding into him with sweet, dark vigour, and he watches me from below, his eyes wicked and victorious as I surrender to not only him, but me.

  I collapse to one side, splaying out beside him as my breathing is now the only audible sound, ragged, intense, and bringing with it a clarity I have been needing for a while.

  I am powerful. I am dark.

  And that, is okay. It’s who I am. It’s what I need to rule. Just as Vex said.

  I look over to him, scared now it’s over that he’ll think it means more than merely two monsters working out their abominable rage and distasteful desires upon one another to avoid the danger and pain of constant restraint. Vex doesn’t lean over, he doesn’t try to hold me, or kiss me. Instead he merely looks across and lets his eyes caress my limp, pale form, which is spider webbed black and blue with the darkness I’ve been fleeing from for so long.

  “So… that killed an hour. What should we do to pass the rest of the daylight hours, my dark, sweet cherry?” he asks, face so innocent, and yet, I cannot somehow believe that his intent is anything but.

  As I have lost the war within myself, conceding the battleground of my silken white flesh, now mapped dark once again, so does the sun surrender the sky to the rise of the moon over the horizon. I watch as the dark curtains flutter, revealing the glow of sunset outside the window. I’m wrapped in the drapes from the four-poster bed, which lies now in ruin, with splintered wood protruding in phallic blatancy into the air where the posts had buckled beneath our never ceasing grind, and the bed frame itself cracked in two under the impact of our rigour and violence.

  We had not held back, and as Vex lies beside me, lighting up a cigarette, I gaze over to him. He’s bruised, scratched and torn. Bitten and ravaged beyond compare. The tip of the cigarette glows in the dark, illuminating the bruising upon the razor sharpness of his cheeks.

  “Nobody can know,” I decree, and he looks at me, cocking his slashed eyebrow in obvious disdain.

  “Ashamed are we, Love?” he asks, and I nod, not replying as I lean back onto the floor where we’re strewn. He sighs.

  “Bloody fine then.” He’s angry, perhaps wanting to display me to the city as a bloody, beaten carcass he has conquered and slain. A hunter returning with the skin of his prey. Unfortunately for him, I am no meek animal, snivelling around in the dirt. I am a Queen.

  I am a Queen. The thought reverberates through me like the aftershocks of an earthquake that has been stirring beneath the surface for quite some time. The walls of my denial have fallen to the ground at an act that has consumed me, and now I am left staring at the rubble. So now what? Do I climb it, stand upon it and look out over a horizon I have been shielding myself from all along, or do I begin to rebuild, reclaim the safety of ignorance as my own?

  “We should get going.” I get to my feet, pulling the drapes tighter around myself, and Vex snorts.

  “Oh, and now she’s modest. Don’t bother, Love. I’ve seen it all up close now; there’s no going back.” He’s snide, obviously hurting, so I relax my arms and let the drapes fall to the floor, exposing the canvas of pain and pleasure we’ve spent hours creating to him in its full glory.

  “Happy now?” I ask, not angry, merely tranquil as my mind settles more than it has since the day I’d been named Queen of the Psirens in the first place. Everything seems so clear now I’ve used Vex to exert my own darkness, to practice letting it loose without letting it control me.

  He doesn’t reply, just gets to his feet and starts looking around for his clothes. He throws my bra at me, pinging it off his thumb with a malicious glare. I catch it, but soon realise it’s been mauled beyond wearability, so simply throw it into the trash can, which is the only piece of décor in the entire room that hasn’t been damaged.

  Apart from the bed, the wallpaper has scratch marks and holes where desperate fists have driven forward, seeking release through the torment of the pleasure I’ve caused. The carpet has been stained in numerous places with blood and other bodily fluids. The bedside tables have collapsed beneath my weight, and the lamp atop it had been smashed within moments of our third time around.

  We finish dressing in silence, and I sigh as I realise my underwear is completely ruined. Vex smirks while I slip on my jeans, commando, before I take several steps over to the window, pulling the curtains apart as the sun has now fallen beyond view.

  I stare out over the graveyard, knowing that perhaps this trip wasn’t about her at all. It’s been about me. My fear, my denial about who I am. My lack of understanding of how to be the ruler everyone expects of me. It’s a harrowing thought that I may now be more equipped for the job I’d not even wanted, and yet I cannot help being slightly relieved at the prospect of no longer having to restrain myself like a caged animal.

  I keep my back to the room as I hear him leave, slamming the door behind him in unwarranted fury. After all, he got what he wanted. We slept together; he got to possess me, be it only fleetingly, for one night. Isn’t that what he’s been alluding to with his dirty jokes and inappropriate innuendos? Maybe I’m a disappointment, not that I care. I had a good time, and now I’m ready to finally return to the city and deal with everything I’ve been trying to run from.

  I float once again above the black crystal of my balcony, looking down over the city and pondering the journey home. It had been quiet, not so much as a harsh word or even the whisper of an argument the entire drive back. When we had reached Whitby, yet again, and ditched the car, if you can indeed call it that, Vex had taken off into the water, leaving me to make my way back alone. I was glad of his departure, and took the time to think not on what had happened during our stint in Lincoln, but rather to contemplate how I’m going to proceed with the Psirens going forward.

  I haven’t seen him since.

  An insecure woman would be all Oh is it me. Did I do something? But I’m not an insecure woman, so I’m really finding it hard to care.

  I proceed back into the suite, to where I’ve set up a large black crystal table. Atop which, wax coated maps of the area lie on its flawless surface, weighted there with rocks.

  I ponder the way in which the sea around us is so barren in comparison to other locations and yet se
em to recall somewhere that might just be perfect for what I seek. I need to train the Psirens myself because me handing off the job to someone else isn’t going to earn me their fear or respect. And yet, I will not be under the scrutiny of the other pods while I do so. My methods may indeed seem unorthodox, but the Psirens are too, so it really is necessary.

  I hear a knock ring through the water and sigh as it reaches me, hoping above all things the person behind it doesn’t possess tentacles.

  “Come in!” I call, twisting in the water to face the door, which opens to reveal not Vex but Orion.

  Fine, I’ll take it. I exhale a flurry of bubbles as my brother swims into the room, his royal blue tailfin shimmering in a blatant and annoying fashion behind him.

  “What do you want?” I demand, staring back down at the charts in front of me as he approaches the table, not wanting to look him in the face.

  “I just wanted to see how you got on during your trip. I saw Vex… he looked a little, beaten up.” His lips quirk into a half-smile as sentiment leaves them, and my head snaps up as I move to glare at him.

  “Yeah, so what? He got mauled by a bear. That’s all.” I make up the lie on the spot and Orion nods slowly, his eyes widening in disbelief.

  “A bear? In England? They don’t have bears in England,” he informs me, his smile growing wider by the second.

  “We went to a zoo,” I add, my face deadpan and he shakes his head.

  “I see. How was it?” he demands, and I scowl at him.

  “Well, it would have been better if we hadn’t been driving around in a shoe box with wheels. So, thanks for that, bro.” I cock my head at him, and he laughs.

  “I said a Classic British car on the phone to the rental company. I have no idea what that even means. Vex told me to say it.” He narrows his eyes, and I return his sly glaze.

  “A likely story.” I snort, and he rolls his eyes. “And the cigarettes provided with no lighter?” I enquire, and he smirks this time. “Oh, that was definitely me,” he admits, eyes sparkling, and I shake my head, dark hair blossoming around me in the Pacific’s warm salt.

  “Three freaking hours with him, in that car, with no lighter… and you’re supposed to be the righteous one out of the two of us. I think that might be bullshit.” I force my expression to remain deadpan as my eyes focus on his stupid perfect hair, which floats stiff in the water as he curves, coming around the side of the table.

  “Did you find her grave?” he asks me, and I nod.

  “I did. It wasn’t as healing of an experience as you all promised. Still glad I went though I guess. I got to threaten a Bishop and everything,” I explain and Orion snorts.

  “How wonderful for you.”

  “How were the Psirens while I was gone?” I demand, and Orion looks shifty beside me as he runs his fingers through his hair.

  “I think the other leaders have a lot more respect for you than when you left three days ago; I’ll put it that way.” I smirk as he continues to seem uneasy.

  “Nobody got hurt, did they?” I ask, internally hoping Isabella got what she deserves.

  “No, but I think it’s safe to say you have your work cut out for you. They don’t respect anyone at this point. I mean, the fear from Poseidon’s little visit is all but lost in their memories now. We’re all concerned.” I stare at him and smile, confident for the first time in ages.

  “You don’t have to be. I have a plan.” He’s surprised at my words, staring upon me with his kind, pale blue eyes and shooting me a smile with his too-white teeth.

  “You… have a plan? Does that mean you’re actually going to rule them?”

  “It does. Not like I have a choice. But, I owe it to them to stop them from living with the kind of regret I do. I also owe it to myself to try. I’ve never really done that before. I just kind of… gave in to fate I guess. Living with visions, it’s easy to forget you have the power to choose.” I speak the words, sounding wiser than I feel, as Orion puts his hand on my shoulder.

  “You should come with me, I have something to show you.” He is proud of me as he speaks, his mouth upturning in the corners as his gills open and close, letting bubbles loose every few moments in a steady, uninterrupted stream.

  “Is it a Ferrari?” I ask him, hopeful, and he rolls his eyes.

  “Not for all the bananas in Barbados,” he replies, and I faux pout, vowing to myself that one day I will find a way to procure a Ferrari and drive it without crashing.

  He leads me over to the door of my suite, opening it and pushing me forward slightly.

  “NOW!” he yells down the corridor, slamming the door shut at my back. From the end of the hall, blood thirsty Psirens with dark eyes erupt in a small pack. They race toward me, trapping me in the dark confines of the crystal hall.

  As they reach me, I feel them bind my limbs and cover my head with a sack of some kind, taking my vision from me. I panic, caught totally off guard, wondering if while I was gone they realised I have no idea what I’m doing. That they now know I’m a fraud.

  As they carry me through the water, much to my continuous protest, all I can think is, what now?

  Chapter Nine

  A Bloody Boring Affair

  I’m blindfolded as Orion pulls me up out of the water and onto a cold, stony surface. I phase automatically from Psiren to mortal form, feeling my legs return to me as I ponder how fast they can carry me far away from here, wherever here is. The bag has been removed from my head, which I guess is a plus because I really don’t do well playing prisoner, as I’m sure the Psiren’s carrying me will attest.

  All I’ve been able to hear the last half an hour is Orion’s irritating repetition of the words, “Calm down. Jeez.” If he could have seen me rolling my eyes every time, he probably would have shut up, but the bag and the restraining by a mass of rabid teenage killers kind of made this an annoyingly moot point.

  “Orion, this is ridiculous. Why am I blindfolded? If Isabella wants to publicly behead me for her own amusement, the least you could do is allow me to glare at her in disapproval as it’s happening,” I growl, and Orion laughs as he wraps me in what feels like a towel. I cling onto it, sick of this charade already.

  “Oh, shut up. Now, follow me, and be careful; the staircase is steep.” He pulls me by the hand as I notice a lack of heavy breathing and the prickling sensation of eyes upon my back, indicating the Psirens who had transported me here against my will have left.

  We journey up a winding staircase, my feet slippery against the stone as Orion guides me, and I wonder momentarily if he’s walking me off the edge of a cliff or something equally as stupid.

  Warmth envelops me, and the scent of bergamot and burning driftwood fills my nostrils. My feet meet with velvet and then yet more stairs as I ascend them, calves burning. Orion continues to pull me blindly forward without pause, irritating me immensely.

  Shortly after, I hear the creak of an opening door, and I’m shoved forward. The audible locking of it behind me makes me roll my eyes again, sure that if I wanted to I could just kick it down.

  Several moments pass as I stand there, debating whether or not to remove the blindfold myself before it falls from my eyes at the hand of none other than Mrs. Callie Fischer.

  “What are you doing here? Wait, where am I?” I’m startled as I look around at the room, finding not instruments of torture or an audience awaiting my death but racks of dresses, along with panels entirely formed from reflective mirror, showing the two of us standing alone in three-hundred-and-sixty-degree intensity.

  “You’re in the parlour at the Lunar Sanctum. Haven’t you been here before?” Callie asks me, looking surprised as her perfectly plucked eyebrows rise on her forehead. I glare at her, my expression dripping with disdain.

  “Do I look like the kind of girl, who spends hours preening, to you?” I demand. She smirks, pushing her hair behind her ear nervously.

  “Why do you think I had you kidnapped?” Giving a sly, self-satisfied smile, she turns away fr
om me. I examine her as she goes, dressed in an aqua silk robe, the colour she’s ridiculously obsessed with, her tanned legs protruding flawlessly smooth beneath it as she steps toward one of the many vanities, pointing at its constituent chair.

  “Sit,” she commands, sure of my compliance, and I look at her with confusion.

  “You brought me here for a makeover?” I query, the idea ridiculous, and she smirks yet again, causing violent urges to rise in my chest. I haven’t just been wrestled all the way here, blindfolded, so I can have my freaking split ends taken care of.

  “No. I brought you here to be crowned Queen of the Psirens,” she explains, and my heart stills a moment before picking up its relentless and punishing beat. My rage dissipates, and I sigh.

  “Why on earth would you want to do that? Nobody wants me to be Queen. I’m not even sure I want to be Queen,” I admit, biting down on my bottom lip as the truth of my words fills me with relief. Callie laughs as though she’s closer to my age and not merely a child.

  “You think I did? Want this, I mean?” She cocks her hip, and I frown.

  “Of course, you did. I see you with your perfect blonde hair, smile, and all the other leaders looking at you with actual respect. You were born for this crap,” I condemn her, and she snorts.

  “Are you insane? Like, actually insane? Because you know I didn’t ask for this either. The only difference is I stepped up, and you have yet to do so. And you know, you’re far more equipped for this job than I ever will be. You’re far older than I am. You know the seas. You’re strong as hell. You know… I… I envy that in you. The way you don’t give a crap. The way you’re so sure of who you are.” It’s like she’s talking about someone else as we stand, face to face, fraught and exposed. She’s staring up at me with conviction in her eyes, extinguishing the otherwise plausible notion that she’s merely blowing smoke up my ass.