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Like always, Lottie pricked her finger. She stirred the blood that pooled at the wound into the tea she’d made. Her hand brushed Nat’s when she handed it over, their fingers grazing just slightly.
Nat made no note of it.
Lottie couldn’t blame her. It was mundane to touch each other like that.
Still, she watched as Nat drank it, trying to find her eyes when she was so determined to look anywhere but at Lottie. Nat hated her these days. The Wilderness had been like an earthquake, shifting their friendship into something warped and ugly.
Doomcoming hadn’t helped things. Lottie knew that what she’d said to Nat while high off her ass on Misty’s shrooms had been callous, and hunting Travis for sport amongst other things had been cruel, but she certainly didn’t see why she felt the need to hold onto it like Lottie used to hold her mother’s hand across the street.
Nat pulled her lips away from the rim of the mug, and her tongue swiped across them.
Lottie couldn’t help but wonder what she tasted like to the girl. If her blood was as metallic on Nat’s tongue as it was on hers.
Maybe Nat couldn’t taste her at all, though. Maybe whatever Lottie tasted of waned under the shitty tea that she was drinking.
Travis took a long sip next. Lottie found that she had no interest in watching him drink her up.
Sometimes, she slipped into the attic where she’d found the corpse all those months ago, and she thought of Natalie, cocking the hunting rifle. She didn’t do anything with the thought. She just sat with it, feeling her cunt ache from its emptiness. She squeezed her eyes shut and imagined the emptiness was gone; she was stretched full.
But she didn’t know what she wanted inside of her: Nat or the rifle.
It was strange to be this human again. She had thought she’d done away with her humanity in the wake of Laura Lee being devoured by flames. Certainly, ever since then, The Wilderness called to her more and more, and she became less and less afraid of what It said. But here she stood, her thighs pressed together, wanting Nat to pry them apart.
She hardly spoke to Nat these days. When she spent most of her day out with Travis, searching for Javi, it was hard to get more than a few words in over blood and tea. Lottie had thought that that might lessen the desire.
It hadn’t.
She found herself watching Nat’s hands when they ate. She traced the outline of Nat’s fingers with her eyes as Nat ripped the bear meat apart and brought it up to her mouth. It slid open, and Lottie watched the pink of her tongue lie flat and the yellow-white of her teeth gnashing down.
It wasn’t shameful to openly watch Nat like this the way it would have been before The Wilderness.
Nat squinted at her. It might have been a glare.
Lottie didn’t feel compelled to avert her gaze.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Nat asked. She could say things like that—she did all the hunting, after all. No one could throw her out and discard her the way they had Jackie. Though, no one else was ready to admit that Jackie’s death had been more than an unintended consequence of their choosing Shauna.
Lottie’s lips split into a smile anyway. “Nothing,” she said. She took a bite from her own plate, chewing the tendrils into oblivion.
Nat dragged her gaze away from Lottie. It felt like being struck, dizzying and fascinating all at once. It left her aching.
It was sometime after she had told Travis that she thought Javi was still alive out there that Nat came to find her in the attic. They couldn’t go out to search for him that day; it was storming, and Nat had had the sense to tell Travis that they were no good to Javi or anyone else if they got lost out there, and Travis had been calmed down enough to listen to her when Lottie had put her hand over his heart. He hadn’t gotten hard this time, at least.
But Nat had given her a hard look and opened and closed her mouth, her tongue peeking out. So Lottie had excused herself to the attic as soon as Tai and Van had vacated it. The others knew by now to leave her alone when she did that.
Or they had until Nat had come barging up there.
Lottie blinked once then twice. The uppermost flesh of her thighs was slick with want. She wondered if Nat could smell it. The thought made her cunt twitch around nothing. “Do you need something?”
“Yeah, actually, I do,” Nat said roughly. “I need to know what the fuck is wrong with you.”
“Did I do something to upset you?” Lottie asked.
Natalie raised her arm like she might hit something, but she didn’t.
Lottie almost wished that she had.
“You’re insane. You know that, right?” Nat asked, striding over to Lottie.
“Why do you say that?” Lottie asked.
Nat’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment. She grabbed Lottie by the shoulders, nails biting in through the layers of clothing. “Doomcoming comes to mind—and the weird Wicca shit you insist upon. Oh, and maybe the fucking meds you ran out of less than a week into being stranded.”
Lottie didn’t move a muscle. “I apologized for Doomcoming. And the rituals have kept you safe, haven’t they? You’re here, after all.”
“I don’t get you! You used to be my friend. What the fuck happened, Lottie?” Nat demanded, shaking Lottie.
Lottie’s eyes flicked down to Nat’s lips.
Nat tracked the movement. She froze in place, not letting Lottie go or pulling her closer. Her nails were blunt in the fabric of Lottie’s coat, but her hands were steady like they were when she held the rifle. Lottie could see her breath in the air, coming out in wisps of white. Her breathing was growing more and more shallow.
Could she smell Lottie’s arousal?
A little whine escaped Lottie’s throat at the thought.
Nat’s grip on Lottie’s shoulders tightened. Her throat bobbed, and Lottie stared at it. She wanted to claim it like she wanted Nat to claim her.
Lottie opened her mouth to speak.
Nat’s mouth slotted against hers, warm and wet. Their first kiss was a desperate, wanting thing. When Nat nipped at Lottie’s lower lip, she opened her mouth more to fit Nat inside her. When Nat slipped her tongue into Lottie’s mouth, she sucked at it.
She’d never kissed anyone like this. Least of all either of the boys she’d hooked up with before. Before was a distant, imaginary thing. There was only now. There was only Nat, pushing the coat off of Lottie’s shoulders and peeling the sweater beneath it up and over her head at the cost of breaking their kiss.
Their second kiss was harsher. Nat bit at Lottie’s lip again, this time much harder, and she drew blood.
Lottie gasped into it, remembering all the times she’d wondered what she tasted like on Nat’s tongue. Her cunt throbbed with her lip. She needed Nat inside her, filling her to the brim. She needed to be inside of Natalie.
This, too, was consumption.
“Nat—what do I taste like?” Lottie asked, breathless between kisses.
“Want me to find out?” Nat asked. Her voice sounded rough with something new, something that was for Lottie only. She pulled back and peeled her own layers of coat and sweater and undershirt off.
Lottie didn’t know how to tell her that she already knew, so she didn’t say anything at all; instead, she took Natalie’s hand in hers, and guided the girl’s index and middle finger to her mouth. She sucked at the digits, swirling her tongue around them, letting her lip bleed onto them. She wanted to coat Nat’s fingers in her spit and blood alike, then she wanted Nat to take those fingers and fuck her senseless.
“Holy shit,” Nat muttered. “You’re so hot. On the floor—now, Lot.”
It had been so long since anyone had given Lottie an order, told Lottie how to be. But she found herself complying without a second thought.
Nat unbuttoned Lottie's jeans, and she lifted her hips without complaint. Her breath hitched once at the feeling of Nat’s hands on her bare thighs as she dragged the jeans down her legs, smearing Lottie’s spit and blood over them. It hitched again when Nat pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the back of her knee. Lottie bucked her hips.
Nat pinned them with her hands as she left kiss after kiss up Lottie’s legs.
“Stop teasing,” Lottie said. It came out in a gasp.
Nat nipped at the inside of her thigh.
“Fuck me already. Please, Natalie.” She hadn’t said please since before The Wilderness, but her cunt was aching so much that she didn’t even process it. She could feel her soaked underwear being peeled off of her slick cunt as the cold air hit her, and nothing else mattered.
“All this for me?” Nat asked, somewhere between teasing and awed by how wet Lottie was.
“Yes.”
Nat gave Lottie’s cunt an experimental lick, long and hard across the whole of it.
Lottie shuddered. No one had ever gone down on her before. Both of the guys she’d been with had called it gross, but here Nat was, face pressed into Lottie so that her nose was brushing Lottie’s cunt.
She didn’t know if Nat had ever done this before, but she couldn’t imagine when it could have happened. Natalie got called a burnout and something of a slut but never a dyke.
Still, Nat licked over Lotie’s clit next, pressing her tongue hard against it.
Lottie couldn’t help but moan, low and filthy, at the sensation.
“Inside—”
Nat pressed her index and middle fingers, still wet from Lottie’s mouth, into her cunt. It was a slow movement, but it still shut her up, cutting her words off into a breathy little gasp. With another lick to Lottie’s cunt, Nat bottomed out at the knuckle. She tried a harder pump, curling her fingers when they couldn’t be pushed further inside.
With Nat’s fingers pumping in and out of her, curling inside her and stretching her cunt, Lottie felt full in a way she had never felt—not when she ate the bear, and not when she’d let boys fuck her.
“Feel good?” Nat asked, her lips rubbing Lottie’s clit as she spoke.
Lottie nodded helplessly before remembering that Nat likely couldn’t see her face. “Yes,” she breathed out. “Could you—could you try sucking it?” She’d heard about that from one of girls on the varsity team when she’d been a freshman. She wanted to find out how it felt for herself. She wanted Natalie to be the one to show her.
Nat obliged, still curling her fingers against Lottie’s walls as she wrapped her mouth around Lottie’s clit and gave it a hard suck.
Something inside Lottie burst. She could see stars behind the black of her eyelids, and she let out a series of short, high gasps.
“Was that—” Nat paused her ministrations.
“Yes,” Lottie said, feeling more aware of her body than she had in months. She didn’t want Nat to stop just because she’d come once. Not like the boys she’d been with had when they’d fingered her.
But Nat didn’t stop. She wrapped her lips around Lottie’s clit once more, and she pumped her fingers into Lottie’s cunt harder. Faster. She was finding a good rhythm for it as she nipped at and sucked Lottie’s clit.
Lottie writhed on the floor, her toes curling and her breath turning shorter and shallower. Her hips bucked, shoving her slick against Nat’s face.
Nat laughed throatily from between Lottie’s legs, and she buried her fingers all the way inside. In a quick motion, she scissored them.
Once more, Lottie’s hips bucked wantonly.
Nat grazed her teeth against Lottie’s clit. It was a sharp sensation, and it made her gasp. Encouraged, Nat bit down gently on the nub.
For the second time, Lottie came.
“Bit of a masochist, huh?” Nat asked, pulling her mouth away from Lottie’s clit but not retracting her fingers from where they were sheathed inside Lottie. She scissored them again, and Lottie bucked again.
She couldn’t speak or think or do anything but lie there and be fucked by Nat.
“One more?” Nat asked.
Slack-jawed, Lottie nodded.
Nat brought her face, wet with Lottie’s slick, up to her bra-clad chest and sucked open-mouthed kisses against it. The whole time, she never stopped finger-fucking Lottie, with her thumb now rubbing circles over Lottie’s now ultra-sensitive clit.
Lottie arched into Nat’s bruising kisses, hoping her chest would be marked with hickeys. Her lips were already swollen and torn, but she wanted more proof of Natalie having been there, having touched her like this.
Her nipples were stiff under her bra, and she was searching for the ability to move her arms to unclasp the bra and free them. Natalie was curling her fingers repeatedly against Lottie’s walls when she managed it.
Before she knew it, Nat was swirling her tongue around her nipples. And then she was sucking them, and nipping at them, and leaving hickeys right across Lottie’s chest.
Before she knew it, she was coming unraveled again, all over Nat’s fingers.
This time, Nat withdrew them slowly, achingly, leaving her empty as her cunt twitched against nothing hopelessly.
Lottie was boneless, but Nat seemed to be coming back to her senses as she wiped the slick of Lottie’s cunt and spit and blood against her jeans like it was something gross. She watched as Nat re-dressed herself in silence, and she found that she didn’t have the words for what they’d done or what it meant either.