by Liz K. Lorde
I shrug and follow her example. Then, she hands me the plate with the promised chocolate.
I pick up a piece and hold it out for her. Gently, she moves closer and opens her mouth to let her perfect white teeth take the chocolate from me.
Then, her lips wrap around my finger, and her tongue licks it clean. She releases my finger with a loud pop.
“Mmmm,” she murmurs, her eyes closed. “Delicious. Any more?”
“Sure.” I pick up another piece and hold it out for her.
She edges a little closer. This time, she takes longer to lick my finger. At the same time, her hands are reaching for my cock.
At first, I’m not quite sure what she’s doing, but then, I see the piece of chocolate she’s rubbing all over my fucking cock.
It takes no time at all for my cock to spring to life and stand to attention.
She leans in to me as if to inspect her handy work. Soft warm breath assaults the tip of my quaking cock.
Like a divining rod, my cock looks for the source of pleasure. It stretches toward her mouth, trembling as it does so. Source of pleasure found.
“Looks like you need to be cleaned up,” she observes, licking her lips.
I’m unable to say or do anything. I’ve completely lost my mind.
If I thought Emma was going to suck on my cock, boy was I wrong. She moves away, and I feel an incredible sense of loss.
Fucking tease.
She grabs the bottle and takes a sip. Then, she puts her own finger in her mouth. When she pulls it out, she drips droplets of wine on my chocolate covered cock.
Now she bends over me and softly licks the wine and chocolate off me.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
There’s a cocktail of emotions swirling inside me. I’ve never felt anything like this before.
A tingling at the tip of my cock spreads faster than a raging grass fire; fireworks explode in my head, and electric shock waves pulse through me.
My hands look for something to grab. Her tits are dangling freely in the air, and I latch onto them. I knead them hard.
Emma’s gone back to soaking my cock in wine before cleaning it up. The combination of sticky and cool liquid, as well as her warm breath and soft tongue, leave me breathing hard and fast.
If she keeps this up, I’m going to empty out another load of my cream-colored cum all over her in the next sixty seconds.
“I love the taste,” Emma says, looking at me. “A hint of sweat, with tannin and pure fucking manliness.”
She chuckles at her own joke.
Her hands wrap around my throbbing cock and move slowly up and down. Then, she blows a soft kiss on the tip of my shaft.
By now I’m nearly out of my mind with fucking pleasure. I just want to grab her by the hair and push her onto my ever-swelling cock.
But I don’t. Instead, I squeeze her nipples and pull on them.
Emma hesitates. Our eyes meet. She looks a little uncertain, almost worried.
I smile at her. My eyes say, It’s alright, you’re fucking awesome.
And then, she opens her delicious lips, and my cock disappears into her mouth and down her throat.
I try and restrain myself. I want to be sure she doesn’t fucking gag on my twelve-inch man-meat. And when I see her adjust her head a little, I know she’s all good.
As she starts to suck and lick and bob up and down on my cock, her eyes lock onto mine.
We’re lost in each other’s gaze. I feel like I can see right to her very soul.
She’s such a fucking awesome good person. I nearly tear up. I don’t fucking deserve her.
What was I doing fucking her? Where would this fucking lead?
My thoughts are stopped by the magical work she does with her mouth and tongue.
When I’m finally deep within her throat, her tongue darts out and swirls around the base of my cock before sliding all the way to the tip as she pulls away.
Her hands are on my balls, juggling and playing with them. Gentle rolls, tight squeezes, and weightless holds—combined, they make the perfect cocktail of delight.
I feel like one of those snowflakes I can see floating in the air before it settles with millions of others on the ground. Riding my wave of pleasure, I feel weightless.
Nothing matters, except for Emma, her mouth over my fucking cock, and the orgasm I’m going to have soon.
I tear my eyes off Emma and look outside. The snow is falling, and it looks wild out there. I’m pleased to be inside.
Nature is so fucking powerful. It can turn on you so quickly. Whenever I think back to the day when I thought I might have lost Emma in the blizzard, I cringe.
I had been so fucking lucky to find her and even luckier those poachers didn’t shoot her.
How many accidents do you read about where people get killed because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time? Well, I was in the right place at the right time. Still am.
I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
I know the day will come when I’ll have to come to terms with Emma leaving again, but I don’t want to fucking think about it now. I just want to enjoy fucking this sex goddess.
I’ve never fucked anyone as sexy, as delicious, or as full of passion as Emma.
She’s increasing her tempo and speed. Faster and faster, she’s bobbing her head on me.
The tip of my throbbing cock is tingling, and I can feel my balls ready to shoot a massive load of cum down her delicate throat.
I’m unable to control it any longer, and I let go of her tits to grab her head instead.
I hang onto her as I thrust my pelvis forward to make sure I’m right down her throat when I start to shoot my huge load into her.
My body stiffens, and my muscles contract, relax, and contract again. Then, I erupt like a volcano.
I shoot load after load into her, and she just keeps on swallowing.
When I’m finished, I collapse with my back against the cool of the window. Emma nuzzles into me.
“Okay?” she asks, looking at me.
It is as if she needs reassurance that she’s pleased me. I recall our days working together.
I used to be dismissive of her, and she got into the habit of checking if things were done to meet my approval.
Somehow, I must get her out of this habit. I have to let her know there’s nothing she can do that will displease me…unless if she leaves me.
“Fucking awesome,” I say, kissing her again. When I pull away from her, I look around. “Any chocolate left?”
She laughs. “Not up here.” She shows me the plate.
“Pity,” I say, running a finger along her collarbone. “I thought we might find another use for it.”
Emma
I start to shiver.
The floor is cold, and I’m worn out, but I’m also utterly content and satisfied. What an amazing evening.
Dylan picks me up and carries me to bed.
“I can walk, you know,” I mutter but nuzzle against his bear-like chest.
“Sure you can, but this way, I get to feel you naked against my skin.”
He lowers me onto the bed, and I feel his lips against the top of my head. I get under the fluffy covers and wait for him to stretch out beside me. I push my back against his front and revel in the feel of his muscles of steel.
For the first time in a long time, I feel safe.
The curtains of the window are still open. Dreamily, I stare out at the vastness of white. As far as the eye can see, there’s snow. Even the tall trees are covered in it.
Suddenly, I feel incredibly small and insignificant, like a pimple on the ass of the world.
Life.
It’s beautiful and fragile.
I’m thinking of asking Dylan what he gets up to when he’s not entertaining a guest like me, but the sound of his snoring lets me know I won’t be getting an answer.
I close my eyes. The significance of the moment does not escape me. I’ve never been so close to a human being b
efore—expect for maybe my own mother.
I remember climbing into bed with her as a little girl, but it was nothing like the man beside me now. Our bodies seem to fit together perfectly. We are one.
His body is hard as steel, muscled, and bear-like while mine is soft and curvaceous.
Maybe if I close my eyes, sleep will grab me, too, and I’ll enter a dream world, along with Dylan.
Time passes. Nothing. I’m still wide awake.
What are some things people do to try and get some sleep? Count sheep.
Yes, I’ll start counting sheep. One, two, three, four, five…
Nope. Counting sheep is also not working.
Turns out Dylan might be the perfect guy, but there’s no way I can get to sleep. I think he’s snoring so loudly that the walls are shaking. Or maybe it has nothing to do with his snoring.
Maybe it’s me.
It’s as if Dylan’s awakened something in me, some wild beast, some creature that has been slumbering deep within me—a creature only he can satisfy.
I sigh.
His snoring has now reached a near deafening crescendo. At this rate, he might unleash an avalanche outside.
I try and struggle out of his embrace, but he tightens his hold on me. Darn.
There’s no way I’m going to be able to sleep with this racket going on. He doesn’t sound like a bear—he sounds like five bears!
Somehow I manage to untangle myself from his grip and slide off the edge of the bed.
I hesitate and let my eyes travel over his naked body. I still can’t believe what happened. It’s almost like a fairy tale come true.
Here I am, not a princess, just an ordinary girl beside the most eligible bachelor on the mountain.
Okay, so he’s the only fucking bachelor up here, but when he was in the city, in Manhattan, he was the most sought-after man. Women practically threw themselves at him.
Did I deserve him? I bite my bottom lip. Of course, he hasn’t said anything about a future.
No mention has been made of what’s going to happen when this blizzard stops and the snow melts.
Mixed feelings settle in the pit of my stomach. What would happen next? Not quite the fairy tale I imagined after all.
Now my thoughts are swirling around my head like a fly trapped in a glass jar, unable to escape.
No matter which way I look at the situation, I reach the same conclusion. It’s fucked.
With so much on my mind, I tiptoe downstairs. Boss is fast asleep on his bed. I grab another log and put it on the dying the flames.
For a while, I squat next to the bear and watch the dance of the flames. Blues, yellows, reds and orange combine and merge in a spectacular formation.
Boss would grow up.
I shift my gaze from the fire to the bear and ruffle his fur. He grumbles and twitches a little. I’m not sure if he’s dreaming or stirring because of my touch.
Better to leave him to it.
Aimlessly, I meander through the cabin. It’s curious how there are no photos of anything or anyone on the walls.
The walls and floor are made of wood, but Dylan has placed rugs here and there.
All in all, this cabin is pretty basic. Nothing flashy, yet everything one needs is here.
Something strange on the floor stops me. It looks like the wood’s been shortened. As I walk closer to it, I realize that it’s a gap.
I get onto my hands and knees and, to my surprise, find a latch. It’s a trap door.
My imagination is suddenly running wild. Perhaps it’s a portal to another world? I wonder giddily.
As a child, I used to love reading portal adventures. I imagined my wardrobe led me to a magical world, just like Narnia.
Should I go and explore? I slow my breathing and listen.
All I can hear is snoring. Both the bear and Dylan are sound asleep.
Gently, I lift the latch and peer down into the darkness. I can make out a staircase, and it does not take me long to find a light switch.
After I take the first two steps, I stop. Holy shit. What was I doing?
My heart starts to beat a little faster. Would Dylan mind if I went into his secret room?
What if I discovered some dark secret of his? What if this hides the remains of someone he killed?
The more I think about it, the faster my heart beats, and the crazier my thoughts become.
Dylan said he had to leave in a hurry because someone wanted to hurt me…but how do I actually know if he was telling the truth?
With a deep breath, I keep walking down. And then I stop walking and breathing.
It takes me forever to come to terms with what I’m seeing. My brain refuses to accept what my eyes are seeing.
Eventually, probably only a few minutes later, I go all the way into the room.
It looks like some secret surveillance operation. There are numerous monitors all over the room.
What had stopped me dead in my tracks were the images of my burned apartment.
Dylan…was spying on me.
I take a deep breath as my heart pounds in my chest like a jackhammer. I never did ask him how he knew my apartment had been set on fire.
Mixed emotions rage through me. I’m fucking angry, disappointed, and hurt. I feel so betrayed.
To distract myself, I look at the other monitors. Some of them are blank. Was he watching other people or had it only been me?
The room is spinning a little. I still can’t believe it. All this time he’d been watching me from up here in the mountains, and I had no fucking idea.
And then, movement on the screen distracts me. I approach it and watch.
There are men on the monitor. It takes me a while to recognize what the fuck I’m looking at.
I’m no geography expert, but I bet these men are now on our mountain. There are four of them, and they’re heading our way. Judging by their black clothing, facemasks, and guns, they’re not coming over for a friendly chat.
Were these the same guys who set fire to my apartment? But what are they doing here?
My thoughts are in such fucking disarray. The only reason they’re here would be to…but surely they couldn’t…they wouldn’t.
By now, my heart is beating in my throat, and I’m starting to panic.
What the fuck am I going to do now? The four men are moving quickly.
Where was Dylan?
Dylan.
Of course. I turn around and race back up the stairs.
Having a go at him for watching me would have to wait till a little later. We have dangerous men to deal with.
As I race up the stairs, I wonder how we’re going to get out of this alive.
Dylan
The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention.
Something is not quite right.
I toss and turn. Darkness is around me, chases me, follows me. I’m running, and yet I’m getting fucking nowhere. It’s so dark, I’m struggling to see anything.
And then I can make out a figure.
Emma.
Emma is ahead of me, urging me on, but it’s no use. Out of nowhere, someone grabs her and takes her away.
She calls my name. She’s yelling my name.
The way she’s yelling has my blood run cold. It’s as if there’s an ice infusion through my veins.
Unfamiliar noises and strange tingling assault my senses. Fucking alarm bells are going off inside my bed, and I bolt upright in bed.
Fuck.
I’m breathing heavily, and it takes me a few seconds to get my bearings. I had been dreaming. I blink rapidly to dispel the images of my fucking nightmare.
Everything’s all right. Emma was safe, nothing to worry about.
Emma. She’s here with me in the cabin. The bad guys can’t touch her. I hope I didn’t wake her with all the wrestling.
Slowly, relief washes over me. I glance beside me and suck in my breath.
Fuck. Emma is not beside me.
Emma.
What
the fuck happened to Emma? Did I just sleep through a kidnapping? I doubt it, unless I’d been drugged.
Instinctively, my right hand touches my head. No obvious injury, no blood, no blunt instrument used to knock me out.
So what was going on? Why wasn’t Emma in bed with me? And what were those sounds I could hear from a long way off?
Maybe everything was not all right.
With lightning speed, I jump out of bed and grab some clothes. I put them on as I run downstairs. Just as my foot takes the last step, I can hear her scream my name.
The pitch of her voice tells me something’s wrong. Something’s fucking wrong.
Something else tells me things are not as they seem. Boss is standing in front of the door growling. It’s a deep ferocious growl, the kind that says Don’t enter my fucking territory.
“Dylan!” Emma screams, sounding almost hysterical, and I grab onto her as she stumbles out from my surveillance room.
“They’re coming…four of them…and they’ve got guns…”
It takes me no time at all to put two and two together. From the garbled hysteria, I gather that those bad dudes have found Emma, found us.
Judging by baby bear’s reaction, they must be getting close.
Too fucking close for comfort.
“Boss,” I call the bear and grab Emma. “Down the stairs. Quick.” I command, but she’s not moving.
“Boss,” she calls, and her voice quivers.
We’re fucking wasting valuable time here. Without another word, I run to grab Boss. He’s still growling, and I think I can hear voices.
I practically push Emma down the stairs and pull the latch shut after us. Then I unhook a special thick metal plate door and pull it all the way over before attaching a lock to it.
“That should keep them out,” I observe and scramble down the stairs. The bear is reluctant and hovers at the top.
“Come on, buddy,” I coax him. “Nothing you can do. We’re safe here.”
One look at the monitors confirms the worst of my fears. We’ve been fucking found. If Emma has been trying to tell me there were four guys, she’s right.
Outside the door of my cabin are four men dressed in dark clothes wearing face masks. They’re all armed with at least one gun each.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
How had this happened? How the fuck had they traced Emma here? Or had they traced me? I run a million possibilities through my head.