Princess, Enraptured Ch. 04

The images flashing in her dreams were effectively an extension of the night she'd had. Skin and tongues and sharp hazel eyes boring into hers. She could feel herself growing hot with need, whining and whimpering beneath him.

Her eyes blinked open, slowly, then a shudder ran down her spine as she gasped.

"Morning," Tom murmured shortly against her cunt then returned to lapping at her pussy like he couldn't get enough.

She moaned long and low, head falling back against her pillow. Her thighs wrapped around his neck, the balls of her feet resting on his shoulder blades. She arched up against the hot wetness of his mouth desperately. She hadn't even woken all the way up yet and she was already so close.

How long had he been eating her out? She gripped at the sheets, then at his hair, forcing his face against her. He moaned, hips thrusting into the mattress as she came with his name on her lips.

He let her relax. She was so grateful for that. As she caught her breath, he lay down next to her again, propping himself up with one arm. He licked his lips and leaned in, brushing them against her cheek.

"Good alarm?" He teased. She managed to laugh despite her dazed state.

"God, yes," she breathed. "Best part of waking up."

He laughed as well, sitting back up. "Want coffee?"

She stared up at him with wide eyes. She reached out to touch his chest gently. "You're an angel," she whispered. He grinned.

"I'll take it," he said with a nod and hopped off of the bed. She watched, realizing he was still completely naked, cheeks heating up. The reality of what they'd done last night was suddenly hitting her and when he'd walked out of the room she immediately pressed her palms against her face and stifled a groan of despair.

She'd had sex with a guy she hadn't even known a week -- that she didn't really know at all. A guy who was dangerous and obviously not good for anything but this sort of hookup. Yet the memories of last night set her ablaze as she recalled them. The things he'd said, the way he'd fucked her... it was like he knew exactly what she wanted. Like he'd read her stories.

But that was impossible. The smut she wrote was always kept away. She didn't write it in public, instead keeping it reserved for nondescript notebooks that she kept in old milk crates in her attic. She had tons of them, completely full of all of her filthiest desires. Things that had passed her mind once that she'd been curious enough to research and write about, things she ached for late at night like someone holding her down and owning her completely. There was a lot she'd written about that she really didn't want to share with any one else, so there was no way he could have read them. No one could have.

She shook her head and sighed. She felt like crying, but she shut her eyes tightly to fight tears back. She lay there for a while, just contemplating the situation she was in and how this was too surreal, how could this possibly be happening. The smell of coffee wafted into the room, alerting her to Tom's presence in the doorway.

He'd wrapped a towel around his hips and was walking back towards the bed, two mugs in hand. "That was fast," she commented, blinking.

He shrugged. "Keurigs take, like, what? Two seconds?"

She supposed so. She'd probably left it on; she had a terrible habit of forgetting. She took a mug from him and inhaled the aroma. Traces of sweetness hit her and she hummed contentedly as she took a careful sip. There was no milk, just a teaspoon or two of sugar as far as she could tell. She preferred it this way. Warmth built in her.

"You got it right on the first try," she teased, peering up at him over her mug.

"Great minds think alike," he responded, clinking her mug with his. She could see that his coffee was also black, likely with the same amount of sugar.

She giggled and pulled her knees to her chest. Sunlight poured in through her windows, her thin orange curtains cutting the color, basking the room in an orange glow. It was one of the few things she really liked about the house; waking up in it to the ambient lighting. Tom seemed to appreciate it too, sitting next to her like this was a regular morning for them.

"So, uh," she chuckled awkwardly. "That was pretty fun."

He looked like he wanted to laugh at her but didn't, just giving her a lopsided smile instead. "Yeah?"

She pouted and slapped at his arm lightly. He feigned pain. "This is all new for me, alright?" She huffed. "I just... I don't know, it was just really, really good."

"Good enough that you'd want to do it again?" He asked intently. She nodded in spite of the part of her brain telling her that that was a very bad idea.

"Yes," she said instead, with certainty, then added with an air of nonchalance. "I'm glad you want to."

"I'm glad you do too." He was beaming and it was so attractive to her, she felt like she was at a loss. She'd gone from meeting this man and fearing for her life to snuggling up to him, eager to see and touch him. Barely any time had passed. He reached up with a free hand and brushed it against the side of her neck, fingers curling in the spiraled tresses at the nape of her neck.

"I know I've said it, like, a thousand times... but I really haven't ever done anything like this before." She motioned to the two of them, nude and lounging in her bed. "I've never slept with someone I wasn't in a relationship with. So I'm not really sure what the protocol is here." She let out a nervous laugh. He rubbed against the back of her neck comfortingly.

"Whatever you want," he said. "I feel like I've been pretty clear about what I want."

Had he been? "To fuck me?"

"To have you," he corrected. She briefly thought back to the previous night, before he'd finally stretched her open on his dick. His genuine tone when he took in her body and praised her. She held her breath without thinking as he held her gaze.

"Why?" She asked, suddenly confounded. There was no reason for him to be so invested, she thought.

His look shifted a little but she couldn't read the expression. All she could discern was a flicker of sadness across his features. "Because you're you." He said tenderly, as if it were obvious.

She shook her head. "But you don't know me."

He looked hurt and it just made her more confused. He parted his lips to speak, then stopped himself, only to finally say: "I want to."

She shifted on her haunches uncomfortably, looking down at her coffee. That hadn't been the response he'd been wanting, apparently, because he continued. "Is that not what you want?"

She shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted, glancing up at him again. "I've only known you for a few days."

He sucked in a sharp breath, brows cinched together. He paused, released it, then nodded. "Fair," was all he said before drinking down the coffee like it was one of the glasses of wine they'd had last night. He looked at her again, the visage of brief pain gone from his face, replaced by a cool look. "Are you free today?"

She blinked at him. "Uh... just getting writing done."

"Are you on a deadline?"

"Not really."

"Cool," he nodded. "I'm taking you out again."

"Oh, no you don't," she warned. "I didn't forget what you did last night!"

He rolled his eyes. "It's not going to cost anything this time. I promise." He set down the coffee mug on the table on his side of the bed and moved to stand. He cast her an inviting look over his shoulder, brow quirked. "Shower?"

He was already standing in the bathroom doorway by the time she'd scrambled to her feet, flicking the light on. He seemed like he was in his element, moving smoothly like he'd been there a hundred times. She walked past him, into the bathroom, squealing when he gave her ass a hard slap.

"Stop!" She cried out, but her voice was drenched with mirth. He advanced on her, making her step back and press her back against the shower door.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good today," he said. "You'll never want anyone else ever again." He opened the shower door and turned her around by her arm, grabbing her ass firmly as she stepped into it with an appreciative grunt.

She didn't want to believe him, but she did. She really, really did.

-----

He'd pulled into a side road, veering down a path shaded with tall trees. The light glinted between their leaves, warming her face as she peered up through the window.

He hadn't told her where he was taking her. Again, she was taking a very big and dangerous chance, going off with him, allowing him to take her wherever he wanted. She tilted her head to rest it against the window, glancing over at him.

"Uhhh... are you really that lost?"

The corners of his mouth quirked up slightly. "Nope. You'll see."

It was barely eleven in the morning. He'd told her to dress comfortably and she had, choosing a long sleeved undershirt and thin pullover hoodie. Some jeans and boots and she was set. He'd left, briefly, to change himself and fetch some things. He'd pulled her close before he'd gone, kissing her like he wouldn't be coming back and it took all of her self control not to throw her arms around his neck and pull him back inside, onto the couch.

He had returned, dressed more like he'd been when she'd first seen him. And then they'd been off.

That had been about half an hour ago. She'd gotten a little anxious about twenty minutes in but pushed it down, probably against her better judgement. Finally, the car slowed as he pulled the car into a small, gravel covered clearing; large enough to accommodate a couple of cars but that was about all. An old wooden sign stood with pale red, faded lettering, reading: TRAIL CLOSED DUSK TO DAWN.

She raised her brows. "Are you taking me hiking? Because I'm not... listen, I'm not trying to do that."

He snorted a little. "Don't worry, it's nothing like that." He turned towards her, his eyes devilish. "So you've only smoked weed, right?"

She frowned, suddenly concerned. "...yes?"

"How would you feel," he said slowly, his tone innocent despite his expression not matching it at all. "About trying mushrooms?"

Her eyes widened and she jerked back a little. "What?"

He raised his hands in a gesture of peace, leaning back himself to give her more space. "You don't have to. Obviously." His eyes cut to the flush trail behind her head, through the window, then back to her. "But I think you'd really like it."

She squirmed under his gaze. "I don't know," she said, sounding as uncertain as she felt. "That's... wow, uh. Am I going to think I'm, like, a tree or something?"

He shook his head with a hopeful smile. "No, no! It's not like that at all, I promise. At least it won't be for us. We won't do much."

She studied his face, disbelief obvious on her's. "What if we get lost?"

"We won't," he assured her. His hand reached out to touch her arm, his thumb gently rubbing up and down in her skin. "I know my way around. That's why I wanted to bring you."

She hesitated still, daring to cast a curious look back at the trail behind her. She pursed her lips then licked them nervously. She'd been doing a lot of things she shouldn't be doing recently. But she felt comfortable with Tom in spite of everything, regardless of how illogical it was for her to. She let her eyes meet his again.

"Okay," she said. "But if I start freaking out, I'm calling someone to come get me. And I'm turning on my location on my phone."

He was grinning again, looking so happy she couldn't help but return the smile. He reached past her to pop open the dash and brought out another bag, this one blue, and opened it. He removed a plastic bag and untied it. "Grab one of those orange juices back there," he instructed, nodding towards the back seat.

She wrinkled her nose in confusion and looked, surprised to find a bag of small orange juice boxes. She fetched it as she was told and took out one of them.

He'd emptied the small bag in his hand onto a piece of paper on his lap, likely also procured from the console. The mushrooms sat there in the open for her to see -- dry, spindly things. They looked gross and she couldn't help but cringe a little. He offered her a sympathetic pat on the elbow.

"They taste like shit to most people," he told her. "So we're going to chase them with orange juice. Sorry, I forgot peanut butter."

She was so confused. "Okay? How many do I eat?"

He separated the shrooms into small piles and pushed one towards her. It was an assortment of small caps and stems, with one larger shroom that was about the size of the pile itself. It didn't seem like a lot, especially compared to how much he was giving himself; his portion was a third bigger than hers. She pinched the mushrooms between two fingers, immediately disliking the way it felt, and popped them into her mouth before she could think it over.

As soon as she started chewing, she immediately wanted to gag. The shrooms tasted like dirt and were oddly, disturbingly, a little nutty. It was the texture that got to her the most. Soft yet stringy, dry and tough. She felt pieces sticking to her teeth and she bit back the urge to retch.

"Here," Tom said. He held out a juice box to her, a straw already punctured through, and she took it gratefully, desperate to wash it out her mouth.

She nearly finished the entire box but her mouth was eventually clear of most of the mushrooms. She stuck her tongue out with an exaggerated 'ack!' of disgust, then looked over to see Tom drinking from his own juice box. He seemed unbothered enough, but his brow twitched in distaste.

"I love that you brought juice boxes." She watched him grind his teeth together briefly to loosen any of the remnants of the funghi from them, then finish off the juice box to wash the rest down. "What even are you?"

He tossed the empty juice box into a small bag attached to the side of his dash. "I don't know," he admitted with a grin. "Let's go."

He exited the car and she let herself out, stretching a little. He popped his trunk and pulled out a heavy-looking, long duffle bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he rounded the car and started towards the trail, glancing behind himself to see if she was following. She was, brows knit together.

"You'll be fine," he assured her as they walked into the trail. "The walk is going to take a little while. You should start coming up once we get to our spot."

"Coming up?"

"Starting your trip," he said. "You'll know."

His words did not comfort her but she pretended that they did, walking in tow with him. He slid his hand to rest against her elbow as they headed deeper into the walking trail and the touch anchored her slightly.

She enjoyed the sounds of birds and the light cascading through the leaves of the tall trees surrounding them. She'd never been an especially outdoorsy person, but she loved taking walks in nature to clear her head. She was still a little high from them smoking in the car, a nice relaxation settling on her shoulders.

"So," she started after they'd been walking for a bit. "What do you like to do other than drugs?"

He snorted a little at that. His hand stayed near her elbow, the pads of his fingers grazing against the skin lightly with each step. "I read a lot. Paint."

She blinked up at him in surprise. "You paint?"

"Yeah, I studied art in uni. Then I was a graphic designer," he told her. "Before, you know..." He gestured to himself with a lopsided smile. "I found my calling."

She couldn't really imagine him working... anywhere, really, other than what he was doing now. She opted not to say so. "What do you paint?"

He shrugged. "Figure paintings, mostly."

"Why didn't you tell me any of this last night?" She asked with a shake of her head. "This is way more interesting than you telling me about having to meet up with drug henchmen."

He laughed loudly at that. "Drug henchmen?"

"That's what they are! When am I going to see your paintings?"

His face shifted briefly, smile faltering. She nearly missed it. "Any time you want," he said. The way he spoke made something uncomfortable coil in her. Time to change the subject.

Instead, she nodded as though satisfied and moved to link her arm with his. "And what do you like to read?"

His smile was genuine again, but he leered at her. "Erotic literature."

She scrunched her nose at him. "Is it at least good?"

"Oh, yeah," he nodded. "Definitely."

Her faux sour expression turned into a lecherous grin. "Any recommendations?"

He waved a hand dismissively. "It's all online," he said. "Just through sites and shit."

She rolled her eyes. "Ugh, lame."

As they walked, she felt a blanketing of soft fog in her brain, her body. It was a nice feeling. She felt high, higher than she had when they'd left the car. But they'd been walking for a while. She glanced over at him, the corners of her mouth still turned up in mirth. "Are we almost there?"

"Yup," he said, nodding forward and bouncing up his pace. She laughed and followed suit.

------

The clearing was magnificent. Lush grass and tall trees casting shade over them. It was comfortable out -- not too hot or cold -- under the shade and she watched eagerly as he dropped the duffel bag he'd been holding.

She still felt high, but it was different now. There was a different edge, like she was hyper aware of how she felt. It wasn't bad. She felt comfortable.

Tom opened the duffel bag and pulled out a large blanket. He spread it out across the ground beneath the shade of a tree, then proceeded to pull more containers of what looked like snacks, setting them down at well. She kneeled onto the blanket.

As her eyes shifted down towards the blanket, she blinked briefly at what seemed to be a shifting in the fabric. But on second glance, it was just the fabric itself, lush like the grass around them. She touched it gingerly with her fingers. Tom's laughter made her snap her attention back towards him.

"Is the blanket swimming?" He asked, smiling. She frowned in confusion and his smile widened. "Are you coming up?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I don't know if I'm just high from before."

"Give it some more time," he said, settling onto the blanket. He leaned onto his side and stretched out his legs. The flecks of sunlight casting down on him through the trees caught her gaze and held it. "Get comfortable."

She moved to do so, settling on her stomach, her chin in her palm, legs also outstretched. As she got herself oriented, she felt an odd and brief feeling, not unlike the feeling of catching air when jumping too high, a small jump in her and a shiver down her spine. She glanced over at him.

"How is it supposed to feel?" She asked.

"You'll definitely have a body high," he said. His hand pressed against the small of her back comfortingly. "Things will start looking a little different. You'll know." He'd said that before but she still wasn't sure if she believed him. But she nodded all the same and rested her head on her arms.

"It feels so nice out here," she sighed. He made a noise of agreement. His hand was rubbing her back now. "That feels nice too."

He shifted to press his lips against her shoulder blades, then plopped down on his back next to her to -- what she could only assume -- watch the clouds.

---------------

She watched as the sun shone between the leaves of the trees above them, taken by the way they moved in the wind. The trees seemed alive and breathing. She dug the pads of her fingers down into the grass beneath her and lowered her gaze. Growth rose and fell around her expanded digits, faint patterns of fractals traced out in the pores of her hand. She sucked in a breath.

"Doing okay?"

She nearly jumped but ended up laughing instead. She looked over at Tom over her shoulder. He was leaning back in a similar position as her, hands bracing himself, though his legs were bent with his knees towards the sky while hers were stretched out. She nodded. "Yeah." Her smile widened. "I think I'm high?"