by C. N. Owens
“We don’t have to.”
“No, I want to, just be gentle. This feels like my first time all over again.”
“I guess that would make this your second first time,” he says, smiling, and lifts me out of the water and carries me out.
I slide down his slippery body back onto the soft ground.
“What now?” he asks, and shudders when I feather the length of his excitement, to show him that I noticed and that I approve.
“What do you think?”
He steps toward me and presses himself to my belly. “If you get pregnant…” He looks away and then, as if making an internal decision, takes me by the arms and guides me down onto the grassy bank, pulling his old flannel shirt under me before I reach the ground.
“You could be psychic,” I say, relieved when I feel my bare skin touch the thick woolen fabric.
“It has been a while, but this isn’t my first time outdoors,” he says, descending between my thighs.
“Well, it’s my first time, and I still don’t want sand… down there.”
“I’d take care of it,” he says, and I gasp when I feel his fingers part the sensitive folds of skin, and soon after, I shudder and let out a cry when I feel his tongue, followed by his lips. He sucks me inside his mouth for a split second, and releases so he can crawl forward and give me a kiss on the mouth.
“You’re good at that,” I say between pants.
“Happy to oblige,” he says, his voice a low thrum. He kisses the length of my body, traveling down my neck, between the gulf of skin between my breasts, across my stomach, headed farther south, but I stop him.
I take his head in my hands. “I would’ve groomed if I knew this was going to happen.”
He pulls away and takes me into his mouth, pinches and gently tugs at the silvery-white hair between his lips on the way back. “You’re a woman; hair doesn’t bother me.”
“Good.” I roll him over onto his back and straddle his hips. “I’m going to explode if you make be wait any longer.”
He takes me by the arms and pulls me close. “You and me,” he says, and kisses me on the forehead. “We’re the death of the world.”
I shake my head. “Don’t forget… free will. We’ll fight against her.”
With a gentle push, he enters me, not stopping until our hips meet in that perfect way a man and woman fit together. He rolls me over again, and we grow still and silent, lost in each other, reveling in this perfect union.
“I love you so much.”
“I love you too, baby girl.”
I let go, giving myself over to him, no longer a whore, but a queen, subjugated only by my king, a freedom I surrender to him happily. I feel at home, safe and comfortable as he pushes deep inside me, feeling my healed and aroused insides stretch and conform to him. He’s large, but not painfully so, we could be made for each other… He fits me in every way.
I close my eyes, riding the edge of miniature climaxes as he continues for what feels like hours at a varying pace. My smile grows devilish, and I push him over onto his back and take over. Sighing gently, I continue where he left off. I look toward the ceiling and grind myself against his hips, my excitement building, body growing tense, legs trembling, toes curling until I let out a ragged cry and collapse on top of him, gasping for air.
He takes me by the wrists and pushes me onto my back. I submit without question and grasp his slippery erection and guide him back inside. I let my nails drag up his arms, and then reach up and bite his neck, hoping he finds the irony amusing. My face flushes, and I have no choice but to cry out, my mind entering another world. My eyes roll back, and I nearly convulse, my entire core pulsing from the inside.
I catch my breath, basking in residual waves of orgasmic chills, and notice a look of urgency on Trent’s face.
“Baby, I’m getting close.”
I smile and raise my hips so we line up better, feeling my excitement build with the knowledge that he’s reaching his end. “I can’t wait.”
He lets out a groan in response to my comment and moves to pull out, but I stop him, shaking my head.
“I want all of you—please don’t,” I say, pulling myself closer, driving him deeper inside than he has dared. I rock my hips, pressing myself onto him. He reaches the end of me on his own, but I push him farther, loving the fullness, the pressure. I drag my nails across his chest, eager for his orgasm, craving the warmth, the small bit of his life he will leave within me, hoping to please him more than any other woman in his past. Finally, he clenches. His body grows rigid, becoming a rock-hard statue of tanned skin and rippling muscle. I arch my back in wave after wave, my muscles clench, sharing in his climax.
Frozen in place, I try to move but can’t, feeling the warmth inside, the life-giving seed of the only man I’ve ever loved.
I lie silent beneath him, studying him the way one would a fine sculpture. He smiles and sits up, and I follow, climbing his arms until I’m sitting on top of his legs. My naked body trembles in his arms, trying to catch my breath, my skin damp and cool with sweat.
I reach for his neck and caress a field of scars, knowing exactly where they came from. I could wonder if he enjoyed Cassie more than me, but I don’t have to. I don’t care; I am the only one on his mind right now, and he is the only man on mine.
“Wolves mate for life. I hope you understand that,” I say.
“Likewise. You’re mine, the same way I'm yours,” he says, knowing that I don’t like the sight of those scars, a constant reminder of what he did with her. “That night between Cassie and me was a mistake.”
“I’ll get used to it,” I say.
We make our way toward the small cabin, only a few hundred feet away. A dark green Army blanket is spread out over the grass next a small dying fire. He goes into the cabin and comes back out with a towel and another blanket.
“It’s clean,” he says, handing me the towel.
“It almost seems like you planned this all out,” I say, pulling the heavy down blanket over me and discreetly cleaning up.
Using a long stick, he stirs the coals in the fire and drops on a couple logs. They instantly catch, making our small pallet warm and cozy. “I wish I could say that I did.”
“You could have lied, I wouldn’t have known,” I say when he comes close and sits next to me on the blanket.
He pulls his heavy tan-colored jeans back on and sits next to me. “I know you are trying to be flirty, but it’s hard for a mind reader to say she wouldn’t know something,” he says, laughing while he pokes at the fire some more to get the logs pushed into just the right spot.
“It’s cute either way,” I say and reach up to kiss his neck. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I'm good. You?”
I slide over, push him onto his back, and lay on his chest. “I’m a little scared.”
“Nothing will hurt us out here. We’re a part of all these creatures; and humans… well, I feel sorry for anyone who stumbles on us—”
“Not that. What if I do get pregnant?”
“You should have thought about that in the moment,” he says, chuckling. “But seriously, if you do, we’ll love it like any other child, and if what comes out is evil beyond redemption… we’ll chase it down and kill it.”
“I hope that doesn’t happen.”
“I don’t think it will.” He pushes my hair back behind my ear. “I think it will be beautiful. Anything created out of so much love can’t possibly be evil.”
“That sounds so silly… but it’s perfect.”
Chapter 27
Leila
The morning’s sun brings with it a new chapter in my life. I stretch, still submerged under the blanket. A deep breath fills my lungs with the scent of oily skin and stale sweat, a corroding reminder of last night, the first time I truly made love.
I roll over, being careful not to bother Trent, and rest my head in my open palm, watching him sleep. He is lying on hi
s back, taking deep, rhythmic breaths, on the verge of snoring. The dark-brown blanket lies draped across his chest, leaving his broad shoulders exposed. “God, I love this man,” I whisper without words, just a sigh. I slide toward him trying to be quiet, but still, he opens his left arm and grabs me like a big bear, pulling me onto his chest.
Trent takes a breath when I flex my hand, letting my nails graze his firm bare stomach, and the strong arm draped across my back tightens a little. Still sleeping, his mind is quiet, no thoughts, just an instinctual reaction to my needing his closeness, burning for his embrace. Only now do I understand the distinction between the physical act of sex and the ritual of making love, the stark difference between chasing release through orgasm versus the divine union of two loving souls merging indivisibly, if only for a while.
He begins to stir, and in my mind, I replay all the events that had to come together for us to exist in this moment: all the good, all the bad, an ocean of suffering between the two of us. If I were asked the same question yesterday, it might not have been the same answer, but right now, it was all worth it. I wonder if Trent would agree.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” His voice echoes in his chest above the thump of his heartbeat.
I sit up and lean on my elbow. He gives me a subtle smirk when our eyes meet, and we come together in a kiss that trails away from his lips, to where I nuzzle into his neck.
“You okay?” he asks, knowing that it’s not like me to be so quiet in the morning.
“I’m more than okay, I am perfect… God, perfect.” I let out a deep sigh, closing my eyes, and tip my head back and nibble on his earlobe, in love with the taste of his skin. My insides tighten and grow warm, already craving a repeat of last night.
“Good,” he says in the middle of a yawn, then turns his head toward me and gives me a slow kiss on the forehead.
“Trent, can’t we just stay out here for the day? I promise you won’t regret it.”
“As much as I’d love to say yes, we have lots of work to do. Don’t worry. I’ll make it up to you.”
“You’d better.” I kiss his cheek again and sit up, loving the feel of our sticky skin peeling apart.
***
After sharing a breakfast of wild game and gathered vegetation, Trent disappears. I had my doubts, but I actually liked the taste of squirrel. Trent was sweet enough to remove the meat from the bone for me, and I devoured it all, still wanting more after it was gone. I look toward the house when I hear a rhythmic clanging sound, followed by the sounds of flowing water.
“Hey, why don’t you come back here for a sec?” Trent says, calling me from somewhere unseen.
I wrap up in the towel and tiptoe around to the back of the house to find Trent pumping water into a large metal tub, being heated by a crackling fire underneath. “You ran a bath for me,” I say, smiling.
“I know how to take care of my woman. Come on over, climb in.”
I shrug off the towel and get ready to step in. “Won’t the fire burn my feet?”
“Nope, I have a wooden liner at the bottom of the tub, you’re safe.” He reaches for me, and I giggle when he lifts me up and drops me in, splashing the water everywhere.
“The water feels so nice. You should join me.”
“This is pioneer luxury; it needs tending to,” he says and pumps more water in at the foot of the tub. “The well is shallow, but it taps right into the spring. It starts out a little sandy, but clears up fast,” he says, completely focused on his task of pampering me.
“This is such a nice treat,” I say, and sink backward in the water up to my chin. “How did you get into the Army?”
“I assumed another identity to do it. A vampire, recently turned, handed it all over: his license, birth certificate, passport… That was ten years ago.”
“So, your name isn’t Trent?”
“Might as well be,” he says, and sits behind me on a stool and begins washing my hair. “My mother called me Avory.”
“Which do you prefer?”
“Trent’s fine.”
“Is that how you got your job hunting vampires?”
“That’s kinda complicated. One of the last few times I managed to shift, I was in an Iraqi city called Tikrit.” He goes quiet for a minute while rinsing warm silky water through my hair, and then hisses. “Talk about some fucked-up shit. I still don’t know what to think about the genocide that took place there. Blind devotion to their religion? Barbarism? People have their own views, but I’ve been around long enough to know that no one ever has it all figured out. Either way… the things I saw,” he says, and goes silent.
I open my eyes to find him staring down at me, his hands still foamy with sweet-smelling shampoo. “You don’t have to say anymore, I understand if it bothers you.”
His eyes, now honey brown, focus on me. “What I did to them was far worse.” His voice deepens. “I still doubt my motives, but when I shifted… I’ve never known such rage, even after all these years. I destroyed hundreds of them; I use the word destroyed literally. Later that night, I woke up naked, lying in an acre-wide field of what was left of my enemies, and found my own people standing over me… expecting answers.”
“So, it’s only natural that they would recruit you for a more challenging task.”
“I guess.”
“Why did you move down here?”
“The nightmares… and Cassie. My ex-wife could never know the real reason why I couldn’t quit Cassie, and it rightly pissed her off.” His breaths shake, and he reaches into his pocket. “This was what finally made up my mind to leave.” He shoves his phone in my face. On the screen is a school picture of a little girl with dark hair, brown eyes, and a big toothy smile. Four jagged scars travel from the right side of her jaw, down her neck and continue under the little yellow dress she’s wearing.
“Your daughter,” I say with a gasp. It all makes sense now, his shame and why he hates what he is.
“She came into my room to wake me up because she wanted a drink. Maddie was in Carolina visiting family at the time.” He drops his phone in the grass, and I turn to find him resting his head in his hands. “She was three. I didn’t shift that night, but I damn sure had claws.” I reach for him and touch his knee, and he takes my hand. “This fucking curse… I nearly killed my little girl.”
“So much for introducing her to a monster.” I smirk when he looks up at me, and I can tell I diffused him when he almost laughs. “Babe, Brittney survived, and I’m sure she still loves you.”
“I guess, but now she’s marked. When she’s twelve, maybe thirteen, she’ll start shifting during the full moon. She’ll be my beta.” He rubs an eye. “Maddie’s gonna love that.” He chuckles.
“Wait, she’s half what you are by birth. Wouldn’t that make her a werewolf anyway?”
He sits back and thinks for a moment. He’s a smart man, but sometimes the simplest things seem to escape him. “You’re a wise old soul, and I feel like an idiot for not thinking of that.”
“Guilt clouds logic.” I smile. “Does Brittney remember what happened?”
“No, thank fucking Christ. Maddie thinks a dog attacked her.”
“A dog with huge paws,” I say, while squeezing some of the water out of my hair.
“I hope you never have to meet her, but when you do, you’ll find that Maddie is blinded by logic. She doesn’t believe in anything other than what’s right in her face. I could’ve told her I did it, and she would’ve had me committed.”
“I get it.” I rest my head on the edge of the tub and allow him to rinse more of the warm water through my hair. “You are spoiling me,” I say, unable to contain a smile.
“I live for it,” he says and walks over to the pump.
“It’s so quiet out here.”
“Yes, I love it. I stalked this place for a week before I bought the property. Mr. and Mrs. Metts, the previous owners, were sitting on a gem,” he says, stopping when he fills the tub
to the point of overflowing.
“Join me, or I’ll pull you in,” I say, grabbing him by the waist of his pants.
“All right, let me grab a towel first.” He turns for the house and just as I was admiring the definition of his V-shaped trunk, he collapses like a ragdoll onto the damp grass.
The soothing silence becomes torturous; my ears begin to ring while I wait for Trent to sit up and laugh. “If you didn’t want to get in the tub with me, all you had to do was say.” I laugh, but something’s strange about this. I don’t move, clinging to the edge of the tub as if Abaddon’s abyss was below me and trying to suck me down. I keep waiting for him to sit up, laugh, anything… but it never happens. “Trent?”
He doesn’t respond or move.
I jump out of the tub and slip through the mud toward him. He hasn’t moved since he collapsed. I roll him over. He’s limp like a dishrag, and his eyes, now whitened and cloudy, stare eerily in different directions. Already, I can smell the decay.
He’s not breathing. I look around, wanting to call for help, but I’m alone for miles. Blinded by tears, I try to scream, forcing the air out of my lungs so hard I make almost no sound. I pat his cheek; I shake him, still he doesn’t move. Like the flipping of a switch, the best part of me has dropped dead. No goodbye, no I love you, only a cold corpse to remind me of our short time together.
I place him on the ground, cringing when his skin tears apart with the lightest touch. I must get to Cassie, I think, but it’s still only midmorning, she’s sleeping right now.
I will wake her. I look down again at Trent and drop to my knees. This can’t be a natural death, I think while I lean down and kiss him on the forehead, feeling hatred and malice bubbling up from within. “Wherever you are… I’ll find you.”
***
Cassie
“That was easy,” the mortal says, standing over Trent’s shattered focus.
I tumble out of my bed and crawl toward this man, trying to right myself. Waking after the sun has risen is agony; I’m weak, and I can barely stand. The best way to do it is to stay awake until after sunrise, and even that takes careful preparation.