Page 138 of Beyond the Cottage

He sensed the witch close behind him, heard her ruined throat cackling. Her claws scraped his back, and he lunged, sinking deeper into a sticky current that dragged him back to her. The beady eyes above watched indifferently.

The river swelled, and he sluggishly paddled.

A final cackle, a death rattle, then the Eater’s rotten corpse drifted by, hair singed, eyes open, hands grabbing, clutching, dragging him down, down,DOWN…

…until slender arms pulled himUP.

The arms carried him from the river, and he flew. He landed gently on a bed of glowing reeds, smelled green algae and sulfur. An alligator groaned in the distance.

Gentle fingers, a soothing voice—her voice. The only one he ever cared to hear again. She licked the syrup off his neck, his chest, and lower, lapping until all the sugar was gone…

Ansel shot up in bed. Disoriented, he shoved a hand through his sweaty hair and blinked at the sunlight.

Gretta peeked up from between his legs. “Everything okay?”

His pulse had begun to stabilize, but it kicked again when he realized he was in Gretta’s bed with her lips an inch from his hard dick.

Whatever dream he’d been having blew away as he settled into the pillows. “What have you been doing to me while I sleep, Gret?”

“Well.” She kissed his ribcage. “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night.” She kissed his abdomen. “About me being a bad sport? I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf.”

“Have you, now?”

“Mm-hmm. Spotty as my reputation is, I can’t afford having ‘sore loser’ attached to it.”

“Indeed not. I know how profoundly you value the opinion of others.”

She smiled against his hipbone. “So there’s really only one way to set things right, wouldn’t you say? Looks like I have to suck your cock.”

Her tongue came out to lick him along the underside, balls to tip, dragging the skin. He groaned from pleasure so intense, it almost became pain. When her mouth wrapped around the tip and she flicked the slit, he shouted.

His head slammed into the pillow. He bent his knees, opening them wide, inviting,begging. Her tight lips caught his ridge.

Fuck, how long had he told her to do that for?

“Take more of me,” he said. “Please.”

Her wet mouth went lower. She sucked him in halfway, once, twice, and he grunted, back arching. She took him deeper. Hecouldn’t stop himself from thrusting. When her lips came just shy of his base, he felt a little spasm in her throat. She tried again and coughed, slipping him from her mouth.

“Are you okay?” he panted.

Her face was red. She wiped water from her eyes.

Cursing under his breath, he cupped her neck as shame deflated him. She didn’t need to tell him what was wrong—the moment her lips got halfway down his dick, he started fucking her mouth like an animal in rut. He was an oafish, disgusting beast.

“I’m sorry,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’m a swine when I get too excited. You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to, it’s just…I should probably tell you something.”

“Anything.”

“Last night, I may have told a little fib.” Her cheeks got redder. “You have to promise you won’t make fun.”

“Gretta, you know I won’t make fun of you. Just tell me.”

She cleared her throat. “I…haven’t actually done this before.”

They both went so quiet, Ansel heard a door bang in another apartment. Groaning, he shoved his hands in his hair and fell back on the bed.

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