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Her heart was beating too fast. It had been beating too fast since they got to the island. That couldn’t be healthy, right? Well, she supposed walking through what she had decided could only be Hell surrounded by murderers and samurais willing to decapitate her for the slightest misstep was probably a little unhealthier.
She couldn’t even remember how she had gotten herself into this situation. She’d been in jail, waiting to be executed. Some sword tester for the Yamada Asaemon with pretty eyes had told her she could get a pardon. She couldn’t remember why she wanted it. The sand was rough and caked into her hair, her flesh, burning the skin under her eyes. Her throat was dry and parched and she didn’t know where she would find water. She couldn’t even remember where she’d left the body of that stupid retainer.
That had been embarrassing. He’d been so confident, preaching to her for the entire walk into the forest about his strength and skill as a samurai. How he could slice through bone in one smooth stroke. The second those monsters had appeared, however, he’d turned tail and run, screaming like a child. He’d made it about halfway across the clearing before that thing had caught him in its too large hands and torn him apart. She almost felt sorry for him. She mostly felt sorry for herself. No way she was getting her pardon without her retainer.
Still, that didn’t mean she had to just give up and die, did it? She wanted to, partially. Just like she had in that cell. She wanted to accept her fate. It seemed easier. And yet, she had said yes. She had fought the other prisoners for her place on the island. She had run when the monsters came, tearing through the vines and trees until she collapsed on the beach.
And now she was lying there staring up at the sky she always thought was beautiful letting the water lap around her shaking form.
It was so hot.
She needed a drink.
Sand crunched several meters away. She stayed motionless, watching a cloud drift by overhead. At least the sky was unchanging. Always the same. Even in a place like this.
Maybe she should play dead. Whoever it was, she didn’t stand much of a chance. She had given her food and water to that little girl on the trip to the island. She was weak. Hungry. Maybe she should just close her eyes.
Still, that stubborn spark in her refused to die.
She snapped up to a sitting position, hazy eyes focusing on the two blurry figures approaching her. One had long black hair and a pretty face. The other was blonde and scarred and grizzled. She knew who he was. Aza Chobe. The pretty one must be his retainer.
Shit.
She would’ve rather run into that Gabimaru kid. He was terrifying, but at least he didn’t seem like he wanted to fight. Back on the mainland, he had held back until they forced his hand. Of course, she couldn’t be sure he would be the same on this awful island, but she liked her chances better with him than the lunatic approaching her.
Shakily, she clambered to her feet, grabbing for the sword her idiot retainer had dropped. She held it out in front of her, trying to ignore the way it trembled.
“Stop!” she called out to the figures.
They didn’t.
“I said stop!” she called again, trying to sound intimidating. To her surprise, they did. Well, Aza Chobe did, and when he held up a hand, his retainer stopped a step or two behind him.
“We stopped,” he called back, his voice low and almost teasing. “Now what?”
“Just –” She hesitated. That was a good question. She hadn’t really thought that far ahead. “Just turn around and go the other way!”
“Why?” His voice was definitely teasing now. She almost laughed.
“Because I have a sword?”
“Yeah?” He took a step forward, his retainer staying dutifully still behind him. “You gonna kill me with it?”
“I will if you come any closer.” Her hands were trembling. She was going to drop the sword.
Another step. She was going to die.
“I’m serious!”
Another. He was going to kill her.
“Stop!” She screwed her eyes shut, tightening her grip on the handle until her hands ached. Did she have the strength to swing it? She was so thirsty. Why did she give that stupid kid her water?
“So, kill me then.” His voice was so close. A chill ran down her spine. She didn’t want to open her eyes.
“Do I have to?” she replied softly. “Can’t you just leave?” It was quiet for a long time. She was about to say something else, but she heard a strange, warm sound.
Did he just laugh?
Strong arms wrapped around her, rough hands encasing her own on the handle. Her eyes jerked open and she whipped her head to the side, staring into half blinded eyes that were all too close. She had no strength to fight him as he tilted the sword towards them, pressing the tip lightly against her throat before tipping it so that it kissed the dip of his collarbone.
“What’s in it for me?” His breath was warm against her neck. The sword was pressing too far into his flesh. It was drawing blood.
“You don’t die?”
“Hmm,” he released her suddenly and pulled back.“That sounds like a pretty good deal.” He circled around her, stopping in front of her and trailing his eyes up and down her form. “Thing is, I’m not too scared of you, princess.” A smirk played at his lips. “Shaking like that, I can hardly believe you ended up on this island in the first place.”
He plucked the sword from her hands. She tried to hold on, but he was fast and strong, snatching it from her iron grip effortlessly. “Must’ve done something pretty heinous though, to end up here.”
She swallowed thickly, eyeing the blade. She could run, but she wouldn’t get very far before that blade slashed its way across her neck. Besides, she would probably collapse halfway down the beach. He teased the tip of the sword with his finger, her eyes locked on the almost sensual way he toyed with the steel. Maybe he would make it quick if she asked nicely.
Her eyes darted to the pretty dark-haired boy still standing a few meters down the beach. Maybe she could even get his retainer to do it. He would be fast. Painless. Well, as painless as possible.
“So, what’dya do, princess?” Her eyes snapped back to his. He was pretty too, now that she was really looking at him. Scarred and frightening, but he had lovely features underneath. Features that bore a lot of resemblance to the boy down the beach. “I know I’m pretty easy on the eyes, but now isn’t really the time to stare.” He pressed the edge of the blade against the side of her neck. “I asked you a question.” She swallowed. “Answer it.”
“I killed someone.”
He laughed again, only this time it wasn’t warm. It was dry and hollow.
“That it?” He sounded almost bored. “Everyone on this island has killed someone, princess, no way you ended up here just for that.” He pressed the sword further against her flesh. She felt something warm and wet trickle down her neck. “So, I’ll ask one more time. What did you do?”
“I ripped him apart,” she confessed quietly. “With anything I could manage. Knives, fingernails, teeth. Anything that would make him hurt.” He was quiet, waiting for her to continue. “Not just him. He was with some others. I don’t even really remember it all. Just came to surrounded by blood and crumpled up bodies. Or parts of bodies.”
His voice was low again, just for her ears, as if they weren’t alone on an isolated beach. “Now why’dya do something like that?” The blade was still pressed against her neck, but it hadn’t moved.
“He hurt my baby brother,” she whispered, turning her head away. “Bad.” Her hands balled into fists at her sides. “I needed to hurt him back.”
It felt good to admit. She had denied it all, claiming she was innocent, she had been framed, she didn’t remember anything. Anything to get back to her family.
But she did remember. She remembered the rage that boiled her blood and the tear of his flesh between her teeth. She remembered the way he screamed. The way he cried like a child. The way she’d relished in it.
She wasn’t innocent. She didn’t want to be. She would’ve done it again. And again, and again.
The blade slipped away from her neck. She turned to him and was met with a shockingly somber expression.
“Thirsty?” he asked flatly. Without thinking, she nodded. He stepped back, retreating towards his retainer and jerking his head. “Come with us.”
She should have hesitated. She should have taken the chance to run. Just because he spared her once for some unknown reason didn’t mean he would do it again. She didn’t even have a weapon anymore. It was dangling loosely in his hand, her blood dripping from the tip onto the sand.
But she was so thirsty.
She padded after him, trying to ignore the sting of the sand in her throat and eyes. Her vision was fuzzy, but if she could just get some water, she would be fine. She was sure she would.
She could almost touch the frayed edge of his shirt when the edges of her vision blackened. The sand seemed so slick all the sudden. So hard to walk on. And then she wasn’t walking at all. Her eyes were closing and she was falling almost in slow motion.
All she could hear was a soft voice. It sounded so gentle. Sweet. It must be that boy. The pretty one.
“Hey, she’s –”
Everything went dark.
Water.
She could feel it trickling between her lips and down her throat. She needed more.
Without opening her eyes, she sat up, grabbing blindly for the source.
“Whoa,” that deep voice from the beach teased. “Take it easy. If you puke, I’ll feed you to the monsters.”
The water was gone. She felt him moving it away from her. In fact, she felt him all around. One thick arm was wrapped around the back of her neck, supporting her head. Her back pressed against what must have been his thigh. Her shoulder rested against his abdomen.
“More,” she groaned weakly, forcing her eyes open slowly. The sunlight burned, but no more than that godforsaken sand. He was leaning over her, that stupid smirk playing at the corner of his lips again.
“Ya know, I carried you all the way here and my sweet brother even brought us some water.” Brother? “Don’t you think you ought to be a little more grateful?”
“Please,” she wheezed, “More.”
“That’s a good girl,” he soothed, returning the cup to her lips and pouring it into her mouth. “Not too fast. I was serious about the puking.”
Slowly, her breathing evened and the ache in her throat faded. Her hands still shook with hunger, but she felt considerably better. When the cup was empty, he set it beside him on the ground, still holding her awkwardly. He stared down at her and she could feel blood rushing to her cheeks.
“You got any food?” she asked, when she could bear his gaze no longer.
He laughed.
“Ungrateful little bitch you are.” He pushed her unceremoniously from his lap and her head bounced painfully against the ground. Before she could say anything, he was halfway across the makeshift campsite, rummaging in some disgusting pile of what looked like viscera. She tried not to gag and averted her eyes.
While he looked for whatever the hell was in that mess, she took stock of her surroundings. They seemed to be in a cave, the entrance sloppily covered with vines. Against one wall there was a makeshift bed of leaves that couldn’t be comfortable but had to be better than the rocky ground. There was only one. Maybe they slept in shifts. Maybe they weren’t the first to find this place.
Something warm and wet slapped against her skin.
“Eat up.”
She glanced down to find a dismembered arm laying across her stomach. To her credit, she didn’t scream. She shoved it off of her, sitting up and scrambling back against the wall.
“I’m actually not hungry,” she said quietly. He let out a heavy sigh.
“You and Toma both.” He turned and started searching for something. “You gotta be adaptable.” He tossed a gigantic leaf bundled up and tied around itself into her lap.
She opened it carefully, afraid she would find an eye or tongue inside. Instead, she was met with a bundle of berries. They looked delicious.
“You gonna poison me?”
“Why would I carry you and give you water just to poison you?” He folded his arms across his chest and stared at her, his brow knit. “I thought you were just delirious, but are you actually an idiot?”
Her cheeks burned again as she ate the berries. They were juicy and sweet, popping between her teeth as she chewed. Better than anything she’d had since before she was locked up.
“Thank you,” she muttered when she finished, staring at the now empty leaf in her lap.
“What was that?”
She looked up at him. He was still wearing that cocky grin. Still, he had effectively saved her life.
“I said thank you.”
He smiled, satisfied. He slid along the wall, plopping onto the ground with a soft thud several meters away. He didn’t say anything else, just watched her in silence. She watched him too. The way the muscles in his arms flexed every so often. The way his jaw clenched and unclenched. The way his good eye darted between her and the entrance to the cave.
He really was pretty, in a rugged sort of way. She could tell he must have been just as beautiful as the dark-haired boy before he got all those scars. His clothes were torn and hung loosely from his shoulders, leaving little of his muscular form to the imagination.
“That boy,” she started, “your retainer. He your brother?”
He didn’t reply.
“Where’d he go?” she asked flatly.
“He’s stayin’ somewhere else,” he huffed. “Don’t trust you with him.”
“Why? Because he’s prettier than you?” she asked, mimicking his teasing tone from the beach. He laughed dryly.
“Yeah, exactly.”
They were quiet for a long while, both staring out the entrance of the cave. The sun was setting, washing the island in a warm golden light.
“Why’d you save me?”
“Dunno.”
Silence fell again. It was getting cold now that the sun was gone.
“He’s not prettier than you,” she said quietly. She glanced up at him, flush still warming her cheeks.
His expression was strange. Like he was torn between offended and flattered.
“He is,” he replied flatly. “I put in a lotta work to make sure of it.”
“Well, he’s not as handsome then.”
“You don’t have to do this, I didn’t save you because I was hoping for something like this.” It was hard to make out his face in the dark. He was sitting so far away. “Flattery doesn’t do nothing for me.”
“It’s not flattery,” she said softly, standing on shaky legs. She pressed a hand to the wall to support herself as she found her strength. “My retainer’s gone.” Slowly, she started to cross the cave towards him. “I’m honestly pretty useless in a fight, but even if I did somehow make it home, I’m as good as dead without him.”
“So, what, you want me to protect you?”
She still couldn’t make out his expression in the dark. How had the sun sunk so quickly?
“No, I don’t really care about that.” She slid down the wall beside him. He tensed but didn’t move away. “I just don’t see any reason not to tell the truth.” She turned to him and smiled. “Since I’ll be dead soon anyway.”
She was close enough now that she could see the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.
“Pretty bold now you got some food in ya, huh?”
She shrugged.
“I rode a boat into Hell today and tonight could be my last night alive. Why shouldn’t I be?”
He laughed, but it was still that dry, hollow laugh. She wanted to hear the warmth from the beach.
“What’d you want from me, princess?”
She scooted closer, until her shoulder was pressing against his arm.
“I’m cold.”
His voice was low and steady. “I can fix that.”
“I know.”
His arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her to her feet, standing with her. He pressed her back against the wall, surprisingly sharp teeth dancing along her neck, chased by his tongue. She let her head drop back against the stone behind her, placing one hand on his chest and using the other to guide his hand to her breast.
“Eager?” he breathed against her neck as he massaged her breast. His other hand sought her hips, squeezing the flesh there hard enough to bruise. He nipped at her collarbone.
“Yes,” she gasped. May as well be honest, right? She could feel his lips curve into that stupid grin against her chest.
Her hand slid down his chest to the belt that held his shirt together, untying it with one tug. He shrugged it off with a low huff, never disconnecting from her neck. His hands slid down her body, tugging at her clothes with a concerning amount of force.
“Hey, these are the only clothes I’ve got.”
“You could be dead tomorrow,” he cooed against her flesh, still tugging at her shirt.
“Yeah, but I could be alive too.” Her hands tangled into his hair, pulling his head back from her neck to meet his eyes. “I’d rather not be naked, either way.”
“’s a shame.” Still, he relented, pulling her shirt over her head much gentler. Not gently, but gentler. He started to sink to his knees in front of her, tugging at the waistband of her pants, but she caught his chin.
“Kiss me first.”
“You’re awful needy.” He didn’t stand, instead latching his hand onto her wrist and separating her hand from his chin. He was still looking at her, but now it seemed like his idea.
“Wanna know what you taste like.”
He laughed, and she could hear a hint of the warmth from the beach.
“Trust me, princess, you’ll know.”
She huffed and started to roll her eyes, but barely had time before his hand caught the back of her neck and she was folded practically in half, her lips locked on his. His fingers wove into her hair as his mouth worked against hers and his tongue danced along her bottom lip, not so much seeking invitation as giving instruction. She parted her lips and clung to his shoulders as he explored her mouth, her mind already growing hazy. She must still be hungry. No way a kiss would affect her like this.
“Dontcha think you should be a little nicer to me?” he asked when he finally broke the kiss. She nodded, tugging at his shoulders, desperate to bring his lips back to meet her own.
“Sorry,” she muttered, eyes locked on his mouth. His canine was caught on his kiss swollen lip and it looked like a knife about to plunge into a cushion. “I’ll do better.”
He laughed. Warm.
“I know you will.” He released her and pushed her hands off his shoulders. His fingers made quick work of the tie that held up her pants and he grinned when they dropped to reveal nothing underneath. “You’re a bit of a slut aren’t you, princess?”
They didn’t give her underclothes in prison. She didn’t say that. She just nodded.
“Hold still for me, yeah?” His breath was hot against her core as he pressed her back into the wall. It was cold against her bare skin, but his warmth radiated from everywhere he touched. His finger trailed along her folds. “Fuck you’re wet. Just from a stupid kiss?” He laughed again. It was a nice sound. It didn’t sound like it belonged to him. “Could get used to you.”
“Please,” she whined as his finger slipped past her entrance, his thumb ghosting along her clit.
“Please what ?” he asked, and she could hear the smugness in his voice.
“Just fuck me,” she gasped as he pushed another finger into her. “I’m ready.”
“You’re certainly wet enough.” He pressed a kiss to her pelvis, his other hand sliding along the back of her thigh to squeeze the flesh of her ass. “But ready ? Not quite, pretty girl.”
She whined, tangling her fingers into his hair but relenting when his tongue pressed against her core. She tipped her head back against the cool stone, letting her focus drift to his touch and the heat it spread through her. His fingers scissored her apart as his tongue danced across her clit and it wasn’t long before her legs started to tremble. One hand stayed woven into his hair, pressing his face against her, desperate for relief, and the other searched blindly for purchase on the smooth wall behind her.
“Aww,” he cooed against her and the vibration sent a thrill up her spine. “Already?”
She wanted to push him away, to stop the inevitable wave of pleasure from washing over her out of spite for his taunting. But she didn’t. She ground her hips against his face and nearly cried from the way his low chuckle felt against her flesh.
“Easy,” he purred, pulling away just before she could tip over the edge. “I think you’re ready now.”
He stood and backed away, letting his pants pool around his ankles while she watched, trembling. Her legs felt like they could give out any moment and he was still wearing that stupid, shit-eating grin.
“Lay down,” he commanded. She eyed the stone nervously. He didn’t seem like the type to be gentle and it couldn’t be good for her skull to smack repeatedly against the ground. “I said lay down ,” he repeated firmly. Her body moved before she had time to process the request.
She had asked for this, but the way he was looking at her, his good eye burning with unconcealed lust, that talented tongue trailing across his swollen lips, made her flush with embarrassment.
“Spread your legs.” He didn’t have to repeat himself this time. She moved automatically; her eyes unable to break away from his pretty face.
And because she couldn’t look away, she caught it. A slip. A quiet moment of serenity on his otherwise smug features.
Reverence.
It was gone in an instant, replaced with a devilish grin as he slotted himself between her legs, hooking his arm beneath one knee and pressing it to her chest.
“Good girl,” he cooed, his voice gentle but mocking. “You’re learning.”
She started to say something in response, something to put him in his place, but her words died in her throat as he pushed past her entrance. Just barely, but enough to make sure she knew that he was already well aware of his place.
One hand stayed locked in an iron grip on her calf, but the other slid up her chest, coming to rest behind her head, cradling it above the hard ground as he pressed further into her. She let out a quiet gasp as he bottomed out, the stretch burning more than she expected. He stopped moving, placing surprisingly gentle kisses along her neck, working his way up her throat to her lips. The kiss was different this time, still commanding and all encompassing, but somehow, it was soothing too.
“Does it hurt?” he hummed against her lips.
She nodded.
“Use your words.”
“Yes, a bit.”
A low laugh rumbled in his chest. He rubbed the side of her neck with his thumb.
“Do you like it?” he cooed, taunting. Her hands caught his biceps and squeezed as he rocked into her once.
“Yes.”
He drew back until his touch was nearly gone and she arched after him, a pitiful whine escaping her lips. He laughed again before slamming his hips against hers.
“I thought you would.” His voice went straight to her core and he buried that stupid smirk between her breasts. He didn’t need to point out the effect he had on her. They could both feel it.
She was right. He wasn’t gentle. He pistoned into her relentlessly, until her mind was so hazy that she couldn’t feel anything but him. The cold stone beneath her was replaced by the burning warmth of his abdomen against her. The soreness in her joints and the hunger in her belly was overtaken by his breath on her neck and his grip on her thigh.
She could stay like this forever. Full and flaming, desperate and dumb, barely lucid enough to keep her eyes open and watch the way his pretty face contorted in pleasure. Completely consumed by him.
His hand snaked between their forms, one rough finger circling her clit and making her back arch off the ground. Her knee was still pressed to her chest and he was still grinning. Maybe he was still mocking her. She didn’t care anymore.
Her hands found purchase on his back, her fingers digging desperately into his flesh as his lips crashed into hers. His tongue was sloppy and he smeared saliva across her face before diving into her throat.
She couldn’t breathe.
That was okay.
She didn’t need to.
Her eyes screwed shut as she felt her release coil in her stomach. He was close too, she knew he was. He had to be. The way his breath heaved, the way he twitched inside of her, the way his hips stuttered, and the quiet moan that just barely escaped his lips all told her that he was.
“Where do I –” he started, choking on the words as his grip grew impossibly tight on the back of her neck.
“Wherever you want.” She was desperate. He couldn’t stop now.
He made a noise that sounded halfway between a laugh and a whimper.
“You – mean it – princess?” he choked out with the slam of his hips.
“I –” she started, stumbling over the words as her mind filled with a familiar haze. “Yes!” she cried, clutching him tighter as heat and pleasure washed over her.
Somewhere distantly she heard that warm laughter again. It became clearer as she calmed down. Somehow, his hips were still rocking into her. What was he waiting for?
“Say it again,” he ordered, his voice scratchy and desperate. “Look at me and say it again.”
“Anything you want,” she replied, looping her arms around his neck, and staring into his half-lidded eyes. “You can do anything you want.”
He grinned again and this time, she was sure. He wasn’t mocking her. His hand moved back to her leg, pressing it into her chest with such desperation that she felt her hips leave the ground. His pace was sloppy and desperate and he kissed her wildly. He groaned into her mouth as he filled her with warmth, unwilling to break away for even a moment.
She could feel bruises blossoming on her flesh as he slowed and collapsed against her. She drifted to sleep, the weight of him providing a strange comfort. She would probably die tomorrow. If not then, the next day.
Vaguely, she wondered if there was a heaven. There must be. Since they were already in hell.