TRHK Chapter 18

"That is—I'm sorry. I knocked, and when there was no answer I was going to leave, but then suddenly there were voices, and—"

Even I could hear how long the excuse was getting. Whatever justification I offered, the fact remained: I had walked into someone else's room uninvited, in the middle of the night.

"Could you move back a little...?"

The room was dark, lights out, and I was still caught between something solid—Kahron, specifically, and the door—and it was extremely uncomfortable.

Kahron let out a quiet sound, something like a laugh, against the shell of my ear.

"If you came to give me my reward, I'll take it."

His arm curved around my waist. The air seemed to become suddenly, without warning, very warm. Or possibly that was heat rising to my face. I tried to pull his arm away with real effort, but the harder I pulled the more pressure he applied, until I ended up simply resting my hand on top of his.

"What—what reward? And this hand—could you please move this hand—"

"You said you'd do anything. Are you pretending to forget?"

The voice against my ear went cold in an instant. There was the faint shadow of something betrayed in it—as though I'd been playing with him—and the unfairness of that left me several times more flustered than I'd already been.

"I never said anything. I said I would do something, but— What is it you want to ask?"

I'd assumed that had quietly passed, but the fact that he was raising it again meant he genuinely did have something in mind. I offered a swift preemptive warning.

"I don't have much money."

Being bound under a service contract meant my wages were low to begin with, and the small amount I'd been carrying had been taken by Maylin's father not long ago. Kahron made a dismissive sound.

"I have no use for a maid's wages."

They might be small, but maid's wages were still money. I'd been the one to draw that line first, and yet somehow hearing him say it stung my pride a little.

"Then what?"

The hand at my waist moved. Slowly. Upward. In the dark, the sensation was somehow sharper—more distinct. I tried again to push his arm down, and again it was useless.

His fingers grazed the underside of my chest. Like that time he'd grabbed my hips, this hand seemed capable at any moment of closing over my breast. A formless, nameless kind of danger.

"Don't—don't do that."

"I was thinking about you, actually."

"...About me?"

"I told you. You show up in my dreams sometimes."

He had mentioned the dream before, I was fairly certain of it. What exactly was I doing in his dreams that— My attention drifted, and while it was elsewhere, his hand found the laces at the front of my dress and began, slowly, to loosen them. The instant I realized what was happening, my heart went haywire.

"Will you cry for me? Like in the dream."

Thump.

The laces gave way and the dress fell to the floor. What remained was only the shirt reaching to my thighs—nothing underneath. I immediately regretted not wearing undergarments. I'd come in such a rush. Though would it have made a real difference? It still would have been only a shirt and a petticoat. My bare legs felt strange and cold.

"Hnn—"

A hand squeezed the inside of my thigh, gently, and I made a sound far too loud for the circumstances. One hand flew to cover my mouth; the other grabbed Kahron's hand where it rested on my thigh. I whispered frantically through my fingers.

"Wait—wait. Let's talk first. Please."

His other hand slipped without warning beneath my shirt. It traveled along my collarbone and—predictably—closed over one breast. The soft nipple was caught and pinched between his fingers. If the room had been light enough to see, Kahron would have had an extremely clear view of my expression.

"Ah—no, stop—we need to talk—I'm saying let's talk—"

"Sure. Go ahead."

Like this—while he's doing that—?!

Kahron palmed my breast, seemed to consider something for a moment, and made a low, dissatisfied sound.

"Doesn't even fit in one hand. How have you been hiding this."

"Don't—ah—"

The nipple, which had gone embarrassingly stiff, was caught between his fingers and twisted. I jammed my palm over my mouth and shook—trembling—as he worked without the slightest regard for my protests.

"Sensitive."

The hand on my thigh resumed its movement. I felt a large hand working inward between my legs and encountered, once more, a specific variety of dread about uncharted territory. Something strange and frightening.

I had never experienced anything like this in my previous life. Not once. No lover, no friends to speak of, my entire world the forest. Of course I hadn't.

"Hah... ah..."

His fingers rolled gently over the nipple, rubbing in slow circles. My inner thighs kept sparking; my legs kept threatening to give out. Kahron's body pressed closer, pushing me harder into the door. Something heavy was insistently, steadily pressing into my lower back.

"I can't—something's—wrong—"

I was losing myself. That was the only way I could describe it. Frightened and not entirely minding. Strange and somehow anticipating. Wanting to run and finding my legs useless.

And then his hand slid between my thighs.

"Hah—!"

If I hadn't covered my mouth fast enough, the sound I made would have echoed down the entire corridor on the other side of that door.

"Oh. You're wet."

He said it as though mildly put out. But there was no concealing what was underneath. I couldn't deny it. I couldn't believe it—but I couldn't deny it either.

"Ah—no—stop—"

Kahron's fingers, pressed neatly together, settled against the place that had never been touched by anyone across either of my lives. He cupped me there—from the bundled nerves at the top all the way down to the entrance below—and began moving in slow, firm circles, pressing steadily as though working out a knot.

"Ahhh..."

My upper body went slack against the wall. I was almost crying. Apparently the shirt had gotten in the way of what he wanted to do, because with no further ceremony he tore the upper portion of it open. His hand caught what came free and kneaded roughly.

I could feel myself growing wetter where he pressed. But this bore no resemblance to any massage I had ever known. The massages I'd given my mother, the massages I'd given the elderly noblewoman—nothing like this—nothing like this—and what kind of massage went there?

"My hand's completely soaked. You couldn't get this wet if I poured water on you."

"Then—then take your hand away—"

"You want me to put it inside?"

A single finger pressed into the entrance. My whole body went rigid. Something entirely foreign pushing into my body. It didn't hurt much—not with how wet I was—but I couldn't believe it. I simply could not believe it. Kahron's finger was inside me.

"Even hotter than the dream. God..."

He released my breast from his rough grip and lifted one of my thighs, pressing it against the wall.

"Hah—!"

The changed angle made the finger inside me sharper, clearer. I pressed both palms flat against the wall to hold myself upright, trembling, and managed to get my lips open.

"Take it out—please—Kahron—something's wrong with me—"

Kahron, perversely and inevitably, did the opposite. The sensation of the finger pressing deeper was entirely new. It felt as though he'd buried it to the knuckle.

"Hah! No—stop—!"

Decorum was beyond me now. The finger bent inside me and swept along whatever it found there. I didn't notice saliva escaping the corner of my mouth. A second finger joined the first.

"Hah! Hm—"

Breath grazed my cheek, and then his mouth found mine—wet and unhurried, his tongue pulling at my attention. Behind it, the two fingers that had settled inside began doing something deeply peculiar: drawing back to the edge, then pressing in again, over and over.

Every time their tips drove deep, my toes curled and shook. The sounds coming from below were enough to make me sincerely wonder if something had gone wrong with my body.

"Mm—ah—"

It wasn't finished. What felt like Kahron's thumb found the swollen, sensitized place at the top of me. He drove the other two fingers in steadily while the thumb pressed that spot down and ground in slow, deliberate circles. This was nothing I could call a massage anymore. The colors behind my eyes went white.

"Hah—damn."

He muttered something and released my mouth, then grabbed my breast and drew the nipple between his lips.

"Ah—!"

I shook like something struck by lightning and could do nothing but take what he was doing to me. I was going to die—from both directions simultaneously. Fingers kept pushing in and out; the bundle of nerves was being ground down; my breast was being pulled hard between his lips. And pressed against my lower back and hips, something heavy and large kept insisting, kept pushing, making its intentions very clear.

The night air had been cool when we came in. Now the heat coming off both of us had my entire body burning. I dug my nails into Kahron's arm where it worked at me—not intentionally. The heat churning inside me was simply more than I could contain, and I needed something to hold onto. Through it all, the colors behind my eyes grew brighter and stranger and stranger still.

"Ah—!"

Something broke, below. Whether or not it was actually water made no difference—my lower body was drenched, as if a bucket had been overturned directly over me.

Kahron caught me as I slid sideways and held me upright. He pulled his fingers free and wiped them on my thigh.

"Hah—hah—hah—"

My breathing was wrecked. My vision kept blurring at the edges.

First a kiss. Then my hips grabbed. Now something I was too embarrassed to name even to myself. Even with no experience, I understood that people who did things like this to each other were not ordinary acquaintances. Maybe Eifel was doing something similar right now, in her boyfriend's room.

But they were lovers. Kahron and I were nothing. Something like familiarity, perhaps. On a personal level. Maybe a little—

"What exactly..."

I'd been gasping for quite a while before I managed to form words at all, still limp against his chest.

"What were you doing in that dream?"