Mine.
Now I’d had her in my arms, throwing my name to the universe in screams of pleasure, I knew there was no going back for me.
No matter what. She was mine.
I took her hand gently, leading her carefully from the destroyed building to where Muffin awaited, happily munching the discarded apples he’d found on the ground.
‘Is it time to say goodbye?’ Laura asked, running her fingers over the pony’s mane, her eyes shining in the afternoon light.
I nodded.
‘Will we come back?’ The pony nuzzled into her as she spoke.
I nodded again.
With the cottage gone, I could start fresh. Have a home built worthy of a woman like Laura. Somewhere with the finest things so she’d want to stay. Hell, I’d even build the bloody pony a stable and grow it a whole orchard of fucking apples if it meant she’d be content.
Plus, the trees would be great for tying her to while I filled her up time and again, until her womb was bursting with me.
The thought of having her carry a child for me, to bring us both a family clawed its way into my mind. Of getting her off of her birth control and stuffing her full of bucket loads of my cum until it took hold of her. Of doting on her while she grew round with a baby that was half me, and half her.
I was hard at the thought. She’d glow, alright. And they’d be mine. Mine to protect. Mine to cherish. Never would I be lonely again.
My touch made her bite her lip as I traced a finger down her spine. We’d only had the few clothes in the boat left to wear, other than our wet things. So she wore a pair of my shorts and an old T-shirt, but even in that, I wanted nothing more than to press my face into her skin and inhale her.
‘I’ll miss you,’ she said to the pony, burying her face into his mane. ‘Be good and look after the place until we get back. I’m leaving you in charge.’
The pony had no idea what she was saying, but gladly appreciated the scratches anyway. A lump of jealousy flared in my throat. Would she be so sad to say goodbye to me? Or even after our night of passion, would she leap at the chance to be free of me? Would I ever truly know?
I didn’t care to find out.
The boat came to a stop as I turned off the engine, idling it. We were about halfway to the mainland, on our way to replenish supplies. Stretching out my aching muscles, I made for the deck, where I found Laura laying on one of the low wooden benches, the lowering sun dancing off of her legs.
I’d taken to carrying a marker pen with me, ready to answer her by writing on whatever surface was available. Walls, the deck, furniture, hell even our skin. Whatever was available was fair play. Taking it from my pocket, I lifted her feet and sat beside her, resting her legs over my knee.
‘Hey,’ she said, her smile like a thousand watt light. I was the moth ensnared by her presence.
HI
As much as I loved touching her, I was growing weary of never being able to say exactly what I wanted too. Anything longer than a few words was too much for the finger spelling,it took too long. The writing helped, but even then our conversations were stilted, full of long pauses while she awaited my words. I wanted to talk to her. To ask her questions and answer hers.
I wanted to be able to pull her against me and whisper dirty little things into her ear. To lick and suck at her skin. To kiss her. I’d never been kissed.
‘You okay?’ she asked, sitting up and looking into my uncovered face. I still felt naked without my lower face mask on, but I’d left it in my bag, wanting to get used to being around her without it. I wasn’t immune to the fact that sometimes her eyes drifted to my scarred mouth and held there a moment too long. Sitting in my discomfort was a new battle for me to fight.
I nodded at her, placing the pen down on the bench. It promptly rolled off and along the deck. Laura let out a giggle. I rolled my eyes.
‘Will you play for me?’
The violin case had been unsalvageable, but my violin and bow had survived the fire, a little smoke stained, but usable. It was the first time she’d asked me to play. When I’d taught myself, I either did so on the other side of the island, or would get told to shut the fuck up by my uncle.
Having her request a performance made me both as pleased as punch, and as shy as a school kid asked to perform in assembly. Laura had heard me play, but never had I done so to please her.
Running my hand down over her leg, I nodded.
‘Thank you. There’s something enthralling about your music backed by the waves. It makes me feel like a mermaid caught in a fairytale.’
I fetched the instrument, playing a few practice notes and getting it tuned back up. Butterflies filled my stomach as Laura sat before me, her head resting on her knees, looking utterly engrossed in my every move.