Talia_Sleeping Beauty Retold

by Daniela Jackson

  His hand travels to the back of my head as his arm wraps around my chest. We kiss deeper. We kiss desperately. We kiss like we want to devour one another.

  My wings appear from my back.

  “That’s nice,” Micah says.

  “My whole angel for you.”

  He chuckles and drops his head then his gaze shifts back to mine. “That’s really nice.” Raw emotion falters his voice. He rises to his feet as my arms and legs wrap around him. “I promise—“

  “No, no talking.”

  I just want to fall into the chasm of his desire for me.

  Our lips meet again as he carries me to our bedroom. We shake our clothes off and lie down on the bed. I crawl on top of him.

  “Love being a husband,” Micah says.

  I lift my hips and slide on his hard cock, making him gasp. His hands stroke my breasts, fingers rolling my nipples, as I grind my bottom against his hips, absorbing the pain from his thickness.

  “Good?” he asks.

  “Good.”

  He runs his fingers up and down my spine as I move my hips. I watch his face sharpen as his breathing accelerates.

  The awareness of my power over him fills my mind with euphoria.

  “So, cooking, cleaning, ironing will be your chores?” I ask.

  His hands squeeze my ass cheeks as he urges me to move faster. “Whatever makes you feel happy.”

  I ride him faster, rising towards my own peak. My pussy contracts around his cock. My head fills with silver light. I hear Micah moan as his cock thickens even more and spills seed inside of me.

  “I love you,” I say.

  Chapter 6

  Micah

  She rests in my arms, her steady breath like a sweet hot temptation. It’s brushing my chest as her smell teases my nostrils. She smells of me. Of sex. Of wild roses.

  It feels good.

  Her declaration is still banging against my brain. Hope pervades my heart. Maybe everything will be alright. Maybe we’ll have our happiness. Maybe we’ll have more kids and a real family.

  I just want to be happy and loved.

  We roll on our sides, facing the same direction.

  “Micah,” she shrieks.

  “We’ll get through this together.”

  “What are we going to tell the baby?” She sniffles.

  “The truth. One day when the baby is old enough.”

  “Theo… I…”

  “Me too, baby girl.”

  We rest then I get up and prepare lunch. We eat and go have a shower together.

  We enter the bathroom, strip and step into the shower cabin. I turn on the water and steam envelops us as Talia stands opposite me.

  I push the shower gel dispenser and rub my hands together then lather my wife’s breasts. Her nipples harden and she tilts her head, biting her lower lip. My little temptress.

  “When did you learn to be a woman?” I ask.

  “Micah,” she groans and clings to me.

  My hard dick throbs against her tummy.

  “I remember,” I start.

  Talia covers my mouth with her hand. “Don’t spoil the moment.”

  I take her wrist and plant a kiss in the hollow of her palm. “It’s just that—“

  Talia growls.

  I know I’m pissing her off, but it strikes me each time I see her naked that I used to babysit her.

  “I can be a woman,” she says, planting a kiss on my chest.

  My body shivers under her touch.

  I want her to be a woman.

  My dick wants her to be a woman. My dick wants to be inside her mouth, but my brain rebels. She’s my Talia.

  “That’s not inappropriate,” Talia says.

  “Don’t read my mind.” I squeeze her ass cheek and smack it lightly.

  She chuckles. “We’re bound. I can read your mind when you’re aroused.” Her tiny fingers close around my cock and she strokes me up and down.

  My ravenous need to fuck her pulsates within me. My rationality fades, and I’m at her mercy.

  Talia strokes me harder, squeezes my balls and lowers to her knees.

  Fuck. My wife is going to suck my dick off.

  She kisses the head of my cock and circles it with her tongue. Her blazing eyes meet mine. She licks a drop of precum that has emerged from the tip of my cock.

  “You forgot,” she says in a seductive raspy voice.

  “I forgot what?”

  “That I’m part mermaid too.” She runs her tongue along my shaft and draws me deep into her mouth.

  A growl escapes my mouth at her wetness and heat. A violent primal instinct awakes inside of me.

  Talia bobs her head up and down my cock, taking me deeper and deeper. Heat shoots to my toes as I pull her hair together and hold her in place. I thrust into her mouth, making her gag. Her fingers dig into my thighs as I fuck her mouth with passion.

  But, she can take me. She can take me deep into her mouth. It’s never been this intense and I’ve fucked a lot of female mouths in life. Her throat squeezes the head of my cock and a jolt of electricity surges through me, bringing me to the brink.

  I fuck her harder. I fuck her mercilessly. And she takes every thrust.

  My balls tighten. My body stiffens, and I moan my release, shooting my load down her throat. Blackness obscures my vision for a second of eternity as my whole being shatters.

  I pull out as Talia swallows my cum and winks at me.

  “That was,” I start.

  “I told you.”

  I hook her under her arms and lift her so her arms and legs wrap around me.

  I haven’t finished with her yet. My dick grows hard again.

  I step out of the shower cabin and carry her to our bed. I shove her on all fours. I kneel behind her and drive my cock into her tight cunt. Her inner walls clench around me, almost making me cum.

  I grip her hips and pound into her. Her whimpers travel in the air. Her body rocks in rhythm with mine as the mattress screeches under us.

  Her voice halts, and she thrashes in satisfaction as I cum just after her.

  We collapse on the bed, steady our breaths, and drop off to sleep, our bodies tangled together.

  I wake up as darkness seeps into the bedroom.

  “Fuck,” I growl.

  Kadmiel will smash me. We’re having church in the basement and I’m already late.

  “Talia, baby—“

  “Go, they’re waiting for you.” She sits up and kisses me. “They’re very pissed off. You’d better hurry.”

  “I know.”

  “Go.”

  “Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  I slide into my jeans, boots and grab my cut. Talia chuckles as I sprint towards the door and slip. My hand jerks to the side to find support against the doorframe. Then I dart towards the stairs and outside the building.

  As I tumble into our office in the basement, Kadmiel raises his hand and shoots me a furious glance.

  “Busy fucking your wife?” Sabrael says.

  “Kind,” I glance at Kadmiel and drop into my seat, “of.”

  Kadmiel hides his emotions behind a mask of rigidness, so I can’t sense him at all. Only the fire in his eyes tells me that he’s pissed off.

  “What are the orders, Prez?” I ask.

  “You’re gonna take Theo’s job permanently,” Kadmiel says.

  “That’s fair,” I say.

  “If I ever catch you staring at other women or treating my future grandchildren badly, I will make sure you end up in the urn,” Kadmiel says in a cold voice, yet I sense anger from him. He juts his chin towards Zarall. “The attic needs some work. If there are more women or more children—“

  “There are only your daughters to choose from, Prez,” Sabrael says.

  Kadmiel rolls his fingers into fists. “If any of you motherfuckers dares to look at my girls, I’ll put you in the urn with my bare hands.” He huffs out. “The attic will be Zarall’s task. Sabrael will take care of ou
r protection wall.” He yawns, as his eyes turn glassy. “Fucking hell. I need a good sleep.”

  It must be infectious because Sabrael follows him, then Zarall and Kadmiel again.

  “No beer tonight,” Sabrael says and yawns.

  Kadmiel leans back in the chair as his head drops. Sabrael emits a chuckle. Zarall rubs his eyes and sinks into the chair with his head resting against the backrest. Sabrael and I exchange glances then he puts his elbows on the table and rests his forehead against his forearm.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I growl as a yawn escapes my mouth.

  I feel like I’m very drunk. My eyelids grow heavy.

  “Kadmiel,” I say, shaking his arm, but there is no response.

  The room fills with the sound of the boys’ steady breaths as uneasiness sits on my chest. Talia’s face flashes through my mind.

  I rise to my feet, my chair screeching against the floor. “You fucking dicks. That’s not even funny.”

  I shake Zarall’s arm, but he seems to be fast asleep.

  Talia’s face flashes through my head again, as something pricks my skin. It feels like the touch of magic, but I’ve never experienced such magic. Maybe the witches’ stuff we use to protect the compound is playing some tricks on us?

  I rush towards the door, climb the stairs leading to the bar and notice Adva lying on the couch. A rustle diverts my attention and I turn around. My eyes fix on Talia.

  “My mom and sisters are asleep,” she squeaks, “and they don’t want to wake up. What’s going on, Micah?” She yawns and covers her mouth with her hand.

  Her finger is bleeding.

  “What happened to your finger, baby?” I ask.

  “I pricked it with a needle.”

  “A needle?”

  “You know, Theo brought those needles from the black market,” she says. “The ones that sew by themselves. I wanted to repair a rip in one of your t-shirts. I wanted to be a good wife, you know.” She winks at me as a smile parts her lips.

  Her body sways, and I leap to her to catch her in my embrace.

  “Talia,” I say.

  Her eyes close as her body grows limp in my arms. I lay her on the couch as a strange sound diverts my attention. It’s coming from outside of the clubhouse. At first, it’s a rustle like somebody is walking on a carpet of autumnal leaves. The sound gets louder and is accompanied by crackling and banging. The earth trembles under my feet and the glass in the windows rings. I flick my eyes over Talia and dart outside the clubhouse. The noise deafens me as my eyes roam over the wall of vegetation surrounding the compound, rising up to the sky, thickening. The branches of bushes and trees lengthen, entwine, slither up, down and to the sides like they’re alive.

  Dizziness fills my head, as my muscles weaken like never before. I fall on my knees and yawn. My body collapses on the ground as my vision narrows. A leaf settles on my forehead then a wall of thick blackness cuts me off from reality.

  Chapter 7

  Micah

  The light coming from nowhere blinds me, and I realise I’m standing, but I can’t feel my body. It’s as though I have no body. My eyes travel down and I scan myself. Everything is as it should be—my boots, my jeans, and my cut. The light makes my body look a bit blurry, but I fucking have a body.

  My vision clears, and I notice a horse. It’s attached to a wooden fence with broken pickets. The fence encircles a hut. Smoke rises from the top. I see the sun and fluffy white clouds. Right. I’m somewhere away from the clubhouse.

  A woman walks out of the hut. Her face is as wrinkled as a dry apple and a long linen dress covers her thin body. Her eyes travel to me, but she doesn’t seem to notice me. I wave my hand and move closer to her. Strange. I can’t feel my feet moving. It’s as though I’m drifting towards the woman.

  I stop two steps away from her. “Hey!”

  She doesn’t react and stares at me.

  No—

  She stares through me like I’m a piece of glass.

  “Hey,” I yell, but the woman remains deaf to my voice.

  I leap to her and raise my hand to shake her shoulder. My fingers pass through her body as though she’s some fucking ghost.

  No—

  Like I am some fucking ghost. Fuck.

  I sweep my hand again and it passes through the woman’s head. I yell, jump, sway in front of her, but she just stares at the horizon.

  Maybe she is a ghost. Yes, that’s the only explanation.

  Her face lights up, and I look over my shoulder. An old man is moving closer to us. To her. A man wearing obsolete clothes—a tunic, an animal skin over his shoulders, narrow trousers stuffed in knee-high boots. He’s carrying a bow with arrows and a dead bird.

  Fuck.

  I leap to him, but he doesn’t react even though I attempt to punch him in the face. My hand just passes through his body.

  Right. I’m dead.

  A stabbing pain courses through my chest as I think of Talia. Is she dead too? Are all of us dead?

  The couple disappears into the hut, and I follow them inside. I learn that I can pass through walls too. I can also pass through the fire burning in the centre of the hut.

  A thought wavers in my mind. I have to find a medium like Talia. A medium who’ll tell me what the fuck I should do now.

  I set off at once.

  Soon, I fucking wish I hadn’t.

  I’m not on the Earth I know.

  I’m not that young in angel terms, but the land I’m exploring is nothing like I remember. It’s pristine, harsh, almost uninhabited. I watch jagged mountains on my way, threatening peaks covered with majestic pine trees and patches of glittering snow. People live here in huts or yurts at the bottom of the grey wall of rock. They’re wild and speak a language I can barely recognise. It’s old. Old like the Egyptian pyramids.

  Nobody can see me.

  Nobody can hear me.

  Animals seem to sense me.

  I pass a citadel perched on a black cliff. A wild river rumbles below. I see men wearing animal skins and they are walking into the citadel, their heavy footsteps accompanied by chants and growls.

  I move closer to them. Float to them, in fact. Float like a ghost. It’s fucking unnerving, this new ability of mine.

  I hear the men talking. One word grips my attention—Wreveth. Fuck. I know that name. It’s the name of a kingdom from a very long time ago.

  I’m dead and I’m in the far past.

  Chapter 8

  Micah

  I wander around the area that surrounds the citadel and then I float towards the woods as the sky turns grey and a red flare burns on the horizon.

  I don’t know how long I meander among the pine trees until my ears fish a delicate swishing sound and my eyes fix on a flickering red light. I move closer and stop.

  My eyes slide over the man sitting with one knee bent. The fire crackles and red sparks shoot into the air as the flickering light illuminates his aristocratic white face and pointed ears. Yes, pointed like he’s some fucking elf. His white hair is plaited like an artist has styled it, and it reaches down to his waist. Fucking hell. Like he’s a woman. Except cold fierceness radiates from him. I can sense the warrior lurking inside of him and something else. It’s grey, powerful, mysterious, some kind of magic I’ve never come across before.

  He turns his face and his icy blue eyes bore through me.

  “Fuck off,” he says.

  I don’t know which hits me harder—the language he speaks or the fact that he can see me.

  “Can you see me?” I ask.

  “I said fuck off.” He throws a few twigs into the fire.

  I notice a blanket, a bag and a bow around him.

  “Man,” I say. “Be a human.” I can’t recognise his language, but I can speak it.

  “I’m an elf not a human. Get lost.”

  “Fuck,” I growl. “Fuck.”

  “I said fuck off.”

  “Man.” I come closer to him. “I’m fucked, you know. Dead, I
mean.”

  “You’re not dead. You’re asleep. You’re a projection. Now, back the fuck up.”

  “Man, be an elf. I’m desperate. They’re all asleep. Cursed or something. Nobody can see me, except you.”

  If I’m not dead, there is a chance the others may be stuck somewhere in the past like me. We fell asleep for some mysterious reason and I need to find a way to return to my body and wake my whole family.

  “Every elf would be able to see you,” the elf says.

  I squat down. “You mean there are more of you?”

  “Two hundred, but we’re leaving this plane soon.”

  “I know. You left two thousand years ago.”

  Now, I have his attention. One corner of his lips crooks up.

  “Are you from the future?” he asks.

  “I will tell you only if you help me.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “There are really interesting discoveries in the future.” I won’t give up. He’s a fucking elf. They were magical creatures almost as powerful as angels. “Humans learn to fly for example. They learn to build weapons that can erase thousands within a split second.”

  “Humans should be erased for their stupidity.”

  I think feverishly. “Have you ever seen an angel mating with a mermaid?”

  “No, you?”

  “My wife is their daughter. She’s so unique.”

  He nods, but no emotion is visible on his face. “Tell me more and maybe I’ll help you.” He smirks. “If the story is intriguing enough.”

  So I start telling him my story.

  He doesn’t interrupt, just nods from time to time.

  As the day is about to dawn, he extinguishes the fire, waves his hand at me and guides me through the woods.

  “Micah,” I say. “My name is Micah. Yours?”

  “None of your fucking business.”

  “Be a human. Have a heart.”

  “I’m an elf not a human.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Ettrian.”

  We move at a steady pace as I watch him. He is tall like us, well built, but not massive. His clothes comprise a brown tunic and narrow trousers stuffed into knee-high boots. A wide belt with an ornate buckle encircles his waist.

  As the sun peaks, we pour out of the woods and enter a village. Stone houses adorned with wooden lacy ornaments and surrounded by colourful gardens rise in front of my eyes, ten maybe twelve in total. Bridges are thrown over the stream burbling its peaceful song and two paths cross in the centre of the village where a fountain stands. I see more people of his kind, tall and graceful like him. Their ageless faces turn to me, but they show no emotion.