Page 25 of Stealing the Troll’s Heart

Deleran sighs. “Why?” he asks. “Why didn’t you just go with him?”

The question itself is insulting. “What do you mean? I don’t belong to him. He doesn’t own me. He could have stayed if he wanted me that bad.”

“And you could have gone,” Deleran says, “if you wanted him that bad.”

“Well, I guess I didn’t then, huh?”

But Deleran just looks at me with the most obnoxiously condescending, all-knowing expression possible. I want to beat it right off his face.

“Whatever,” he says finally. “You came home. Why?”

It’s a good question. I just feel like I needed a break after everything. I wanted to be somewhere familiar, somewhere that grounded me, so I would stop floating off into the sky.

“I missed you, I guess,” I lie. But Deleran seems so pleased to hear this that he doesn’t detect it.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever said something sweet,” he says. “Guess that troll really turned you inside-out.”

“Can we not talk about that anymore?” I take a hefty drink of my wine.

Deleran’s eyes are twinkling with mischief. “Of course. Whatever you want.” He eyes my clothes. “You could make a fine living now. You really leveled up while you were gone.”

That’s true. Maybe I didn’t get my master craftsman license, but the work I can produce is still valuable. The idea of it doesn’t appeal to me at all.

No, I need to make a change in my life. If I keep walking the same path I was walking before Raz’jin, I worry I’ll just meet him there again, walking the other direction. And that’s the last thing I need.

We keep drinking long into the night, and Deleran edges closer and closer to me. I don’t push him away. I’ll take anything to get my mind off of the troll with blue skin and wild hair and gentle hands and a huge cock.

It’s late and dark when we stumble into Deleran’s house and make our way to his childhood room. I take off my own clothes, and he takes off his, and then we meet in the middle of the bed on our knees. Kissing him is sloppy and strange. I’m used to someone much taller.

Under his pants Deleran is generous, but nothing compared to my troll. He isn’t gentle about sticking it inside me, and I only manage to orgasm by feverishly rubbing myself as he thrusts and moans and groans.

“Pull it out,” I hiss at him as he reaches his climax. Hurriedly he obeys and dumps his load right on my belly. Once I’ve cleaned him off, I get up and start to put my clothes back on.

“You’re leaving?” Deleran asks, and I detect a little bit of hurt in his voice.

“Shouldn’t I?”

“My parents won’t mind.” A little smile tilts up his mouth. “They’ve been wanting me to settle down for years. I think you would be their first choice.”

Who gives a fuck what his parents think? I try to smile back.

“It would just be too awkward,” I say. “Maybe next time.”

His face falls, but then he tries to mask it. “Right. Next time.”

And there is a next time because I still desperately want to forget about Raz’jin. I carefully mix up some Purentea, made from the leaf of the Purennia plant, just in case Deleran forgets to pull out again.

We fuck all different kinds of ways, and his parents are certainly aware of it, but they have the tact not to say anything. Eventually I realize that I’m just using him, over and over, all while his feelings for me grow stronger.

Why can’t I seem to stay out of this situation? I’m like a magnet for bad sexual partners.

“Could you imagine marrying me?” Deleran says one night after we’ve had a particularly long session. All I want is to feel that same fullness, that same rush of pleasure as when Raz’jin buried himself deep inside me, but it just won’t come. Literally.

“Marry you?” I ask, too surprised to mask my disgust. “Um...”

Deleran sighs. “Yeah. Thought so.” He sits up in bed. “You’re still just trying to forget about him.”

I drop my head. There’s no reason to argue with his assumption because it’s a correct one.

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