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Horns and pointy ears notwithstanding, he mostly looks like a giant human man, and that doesn’t really change when he takes off his clothes, with onemajorexception. He has two legs lightly dusted with hair, abs that would make a bodybuilder weep with jealousy, and a surprisingly juicy butt.
But it’s his cock that catches my eye, for multiple reasons. One, when a guy gets naked in front of you, it’s instinct to check it out. Two, it’s just as huge as the rest of him. It doesn’t quite reach his knees or anything, but it’s not that far off. Third, unlike the rest of him, it doesn’t look human.
I mean, the shaft seems normal enough, but I can’t tell what the tip looks like, because there’s a flower-shaped covering hanging over it. Sort of like a limp, open umbrella.
Weirdly, I’ve seen something like this before. I was watching some nature program once about mating habits of wildlife, and it featured the tapir, a creature native primarily to Central and South America that kind of looks like a cross between an anteater and a hippo.
They were featured on the show because they also have incredibly long penises with a flower flap on the end. Unfortunately, I stopped paying attention to the program, so I never learned why they were like that. Given my current situation, it seems like it might be useful information.
Like, I know he’s a troll, and he kidnapped me, and he’s dying and everything…but damn, facts are facts: He’s really fucking hot and I’m a red-blooded, heterosexual woman. So sue me, I’m super curious about his wang. In other circumstances, I might want to get a little more up close and personal.
However, since these are not those circumstances, I just want to know more for, like, for the sake of information. Right.
“Will you join me?” Bradoc says, and I jerk my head up, cheeks aflame.
“Um,” I say. I would like to rinse off, it’s true. I’m sweaty and sticky and a dip sounds lovely. But it would entail getting naked in front of him, which I’m not exactly itching to do.
Before I make up my mind, Bradoc turns and wades into the water, sinking below its surface and reemerging with water streaming down his excellent hair. He doesn’t seem remotely interested in whether or not I join him. I can’t tell whether that annoys me or not.
“Fuck it,” I mutter. I strip as fast as I can and dash into the water, sinking immediately so that it covers my chest. I scuttle, crablike, until the water deepens and I can stand up all the way.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t realized just how clear this pure mountain water is. It doesn’t cover anything at all, but it’s too late to be modest. The pond is cool and refreshing, so I dunk my head and enjoy myself, even knowing that getting my curls wet will make them shrink now and frizz later.
Instead of joining him for a swim, I probably should have tried to run away. That would have been the sensible thing to do. But I guess I’m not all that sensible, because I promised I would help him and I’m going to keep my word. Ugh. Damn my ethics.
I surface and turn to find him repeatedly dunking his head and then shaking like a dog, apparently trying to give his hair a good rinse. Water droplets cling to his horns and sparkle in the sun, and for the first time, his harsh features are relaxed, making me realize that he’s younger than I initially thought. Probably not more than thirty or so.
Without thinking, I flick my hand and splash him, water smacking him right in the face. He splutters and then stares at me, agape, and I can’t help but giggle. After a moment, his own smile emerges and he splashes me back, using much more force than necessary.
A big wave comes at me and knocks me backward a bit. I let my head go under, curious how he’ll react, and sure enough, he suddenly appears at my side in the water. He snags my waist and hoists me up a bit, holding my head above water.
“I’m sorry.”
I laugh. “I’m not. That was fun.”
Once again, it takes him a beat to realize that I’m playing with him. When he does, he lets go of me and dives beneath the water. A second later, I feel his giant hands grab my ankles, and then he tugs hard, pulling me under.
I suck in a last-second breath and then we’re both submerged, staring at each other through the crystalline liquid. I smile, boop his nose, and then turn, swimming as fast as I can. I was on the swim team in high school, so I’m fairly speedy.
But what Bradoc lacks in speed, he makes up for in sheer power, and it isn’t long before he catches me, once again grabbing my ankle. This time he pulls me close, and we hover there, inches apart, treading water.
“So you do know how to have fun,” I say, my voice a little husky.
“Of course. I spend most of my time hunting and protecting my tribe, but we also have games,” he replies.
I stare up at him, at his eyes that almost match the water and the droplets that sparkle on his lashes. He’s still holding me with his big arms and this close, I can smell his natural, woodsy musk.
My heart picks up speed. If I leaned in just a little, our lips would touch. I start to shift forward and his pupils dilate as I get closer. He leans in too, just a little, until we’re only a breath away…
What the hell am I doing? He is a dying troll and I am his kidnap victim.
I clear my throat and wiggle out of his grip.
“Come on. You shouldn’t exert yourself. And we need to look for herbs.”
I swim to back to the rocks without looking at him, and pull on my clothes even though I’m drenched. I need to focus on finding plants, not thinking about what I almost did.
And worse, why I already regret not doing it.
