He didn't need words. Guiding one breast to his mouth, he took the nipple between his lips, suckling gently at first, then harder as Sonja's moans grew louder. Her hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as she pressed herself closer. The heat between her legs was impossible to ignore, and Simma's own desire surged, his cock straining against his pants like it was begging for release.
With a quick motion, Sonja yanked off his trousers, freeing his hard length. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in its size, thick, veiny, and glistening with pre-cum.
She wrapped her fingers around it, stroking slowly as Simma groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily. Her touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure cursing through him.
Leaning down, she placed a teasing kiss on the tip of his cock before taking him into her mouth. Simma's breath caught, his hands fisting in her hair as she bobbed her head, her lips and tongue working him expertly. The sensation was overwhelming, every pull and swirl sending shockwaves through his body.
"Sonja…" he choked out, his voice rough with desire.
She pulled away, climbing back up to straddle him once more. Positioning herself above him, she guided his cock to her entrance, pausing just long enough to look into his eyes. Then, slowly, she lowered herself onto him, inch by delicious inch.
"Oh… fuck," Sonja gasped, her head tipping back as she took him fully. She was tight, wet, and so incredibly warm that Simma thought he might explode right then and there. But he held on, gripping her hips as she began to move, rising and falling in a rhythm that drove them both wild.
Her breasts bounced with every thrust, the sight and sensation driving Simma to the edge. He matched her pace, thrusting
upward to meet her downward strokes, their bodies slapping together in a symphony of pleasure. Sonja's moans filled the cave, echoing off the walls as she rode him harder, faster, her nails raking down his chest.
"Yes… yes… Simma…" she cried out, her voice breaking with ecstasy
He could feel her walls tightening around him, pulsing with her impending climax. With a final thrust, he pushed her over the edge, and she came with a shattering cry, her body trembling uncontrollably.
The sensation was too much for Simma, and with a guttural groan, he followed her into bliss, spilling himself inside her in hot, pulsing waves.
They collapsed together, breathless and slick with sweat, their bodies still connected as they rode out the aftershocks.
The fire crackled softly beside them, its warmth a stark contrast to the cool stone beneath them. For a moment, they were free, free from the Singriths, from Haydes, from everything but each other
Sonja rested her head on his chest, her breathing gradually slowing as she traced lazy patterns on his skin. Simma's hand stroked her hair absentmindedly, his mind still reeling from what had just happened.
"We'll make it," he whispered, more to himself than to her.
Sonja looked up at him, her blue eyes glowing faintly in the firelight. "Together," she replied, her voice steady now, filled with a quiet determination.
Simma nodded
....
Simma lay on the bare stone floor, his gaze fixed on the jagged ceiling of the cave. Beside him sprawled Sonja, her body draped lazily across his own, one leg curved over him as her hand absently caressed his chest.
The two were still naked, their breaths weaving into the chilled air, faint warmth lingering between them.
Sonja's face glowed, brighter than it had in a long time, her silvery hair spilling down like a moonlit stream as her fingers traced idle circles across his skin. Her voice came softly, calm yet curious.
"You haven't told me about your dreams yet?"
Simma turned his head, brushing a loose lock of hair from her face with a tender finger, before resting his hand gently upon the curve of her leg. He exhaled slowly.
Yes. he had been dreaming. Or perhaps, more truthfully, suffering nightmares that gnawed at his soul. They were filled with visions he could not comprehend, apocalyptic screams, echoes of agony, and the burning blame of faceless voices.
Yet, through it all, one figure always returned. Never himself. Always a man; tall, black-haired, with eyes the color of blue fire and a fitted overcoat that reached his knees. The same shadow haunted every dream. The one Simma had named the;
Suited Man.
He shifted his gaze back to Sonja, finally breaking the silence.
"Last night was the best… why should I have bad dreams?"
Her smile lit his chest like a flame, and for a heartbeat, it burned away the shadows that clung to him.
Sonja's happiness was his tether; her safety meant more than his own survival. Even though his power remained untamed, he would keep her safe with what strength he had, his fists, his blade, his will.
He leaned closer, returning her smile with one of his own.
"I'll go find us something to eat, then wait for dawn. We should move at first light."
Sonja nodded, releasing her hold on him. Simma rose and slipped back into his ragged clothes. They hung loose upon his starved frame; he had never known the feeling of being full, never carried the weight of abundance. Thinness was all his body remembered, whether by fate, by curse, or by cruelty.
His thoughts spiraled as he wandered into the woods. The forest was thick, each towering tree casting shadows like bars of a prison. Darkness pressed close, suffocating,
yet he pushed deeper. They needed food if they were to continue their journey to the great city Sonja spoke of, a place painted in his mind as both salvation and myth.
Back in the cave, Sonja stirred. Rising, she clothed herself again before crouching beside the shallow pool of water at the cave's floor. She cupped her hands, splashing her face, washing away the grime and the heaviness of the past nights.
A mission had once carried her far from home, but instead she had been taken, thrown into chains, robbed of the city she loved. Since then, the thought of returning had been her anchor.
She scooped another handful of water when the sound reached her... shuffling in the dark.
Her lips curved, warmth blooming in her chest. Simma. The thought that he was near steadied her. She had carried a quiet crush for him, buried it through years of suffering, and now, after last night, she knew. He felt it too.
The shuffle came again. She smiled wider, standing, stepping toward the cave's mouth.
"Back already?" she teased, her voice light. She moved closer, her silhouette framed by the mouth of stone.
"Hey... you know I don't like surprises in dark hours."
But then..
Swishhh.
A blade flashed. slicing through her back, it tore through her cloth to her very skin. Pain flared white-hot.
Her scream tore through the cave, sharp, guttural, painted in fear, and echoing through the forest.
"Sonja!" Simma muttered, freezing in the woods.
The squirrel he had caught and killed slipped from his hand. His heart seized, panic flooding him faster than his thoughts.
His legs erupted into motion before he even willed it, both of them pounding against the earth, his lungs straining, his chest slamming against his ribs as if his heart itself sought escape.
'Please let it be nothing… let it be a mistake, he prayed as he darted through the forest.'
Branches tore at him, the air burned in his throat, but he did not stop. Sonja was all he had, the only soul tethered to his broken world. He could not.... would not....loose her.
When the cave came into view, he slowed, hiding behind a tree. His eyes scanned the scene. Something was wrong. A motorcycle lay flat on the ground, its headlight spilling pale beams against the stone. Someone was there. Someone who had not left with Sonja.
Simma's grip tightened on the dagger in his hand. His pulse hammered, sweat slicking his palms.
Then he saw it.
At the cave entrance stood a man. He had Sonja pinned, his hand clamped over her mouth, her wrists bound cruelly behind her.
One-eyed, snarling. Recognition hit Simma like ice in his veins. He was one of the four Singriths who had attacked them days before, the one Sonja had stabbed in the eye. The one they thought dead.
But here he stood, alive, fangs bared.
"Drop it," the man hissed, his voice thick with venom. "Or I'll drain her dry."
Simma's heart clenched. Slowly, he lowered the blade to the floor. His chest burned with rage and terror. The man was a Singrith and was capable to do according to his words.
The Singrith sneered. "Kick it aside."
Simma hesitated. Sonja shook her head desperately, muffled words begging him not to obey, to run, to save himself. But Simma couldn't. He wouldn't. Leaving her was worse than death. He kicked the blade away, raising his trembling hands.
"Take me instead," he pleaded, his voice raw. "Leave her. She's innocent."
The Singrith's smile widened, cruel as a fresh wound.
"She took my eye, boy… not you."
"No, it was me!" Simma's voice cracked.
"I ordered her to do it. Punish me, not her. Please..."
Tears streamed down Sonja's face. She shook her head violently, begging him not to sacrifice himself.
But meanwhile, Simma's pleas fell on stone. The man only laughed, his voice ringing through the darkness, but more, it seared down like an ice berg through Simma's spine.
The man then looked up at Simma, as he replied, voice coarse, deep and infuriatingly rough.
"Then I'll kill you both," the Singrith snarled.
His body warped hideously, shifting into his monstrous form; fangs lengthening, skin wrinkling into something foul, claws stretching like hooked blades. His eyes glowed a sickly green as his laughter thundered against the cave walls.
"Don't!" Simma screamed, desperation breaking in his voice.
The monster lifted Sonja by the throat, hoisting her effortlessly. She gasped, her veins bulging, legs thrashing in futility. Her eyes met Simma's, filled with veins, filled with pain.
Simma's tears blurred his sight. His soul screamed inside him. Helpless. Powerless.
"Sonja…" he whispered.
And through the choke of her breath, Sonja mouthed the words that broke him apart.
"I… love… you… Simma."
His heart stopped.
"Please!" he begged again.
But then...
Splatter.
Blood painted the cave walls.
For a moment, everything slowed. Simma's eyes widened.
Blood splattered across his face, forcing his eyes shut.
He blinked rapidly.
Everything went silent.
A sharp ringing filled his ears. His heart raced. His pupils dilated.
The man drove his fist right through Sonja's lower abdomen, sending her blood everywhere, as he leg go of her.
She dropped to the ground, motionless.
"SONJAAAAAA! NOOOOOO!" Simma screamed, collapsing to the floor, both hands gripping his head, as he grabbed his temple.
Anger filled his soul, and an imminent thought to killed seared across his veins which now stood out like ridges on his pale skin.
His head throbbed loudly than ever as hatred devoured his soul, the smile on his face had whooshed away and was now as if long forgotten. Only to be replaced with gritted teethes.
"No- no" He whimpered "YOU ARE SO DEAD".
Then his eyes turned, it flared red as slowly he looked up at the man.
"AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!"