Something. Something has changed. His heartbeat? Yes. It’s faster. I keep my eyes closed. My hands closed and clasped at my sternum, open up. My entire hand is against his chest. Against the heat of his flesh there. The little hairs. Without lifting my head, I glide my palms to the outside of his chest. The flesh that was soft beneath me, is...no longer. I pause. It is right there! And embarrassingly enough, my body is weeping for it. I open my mouth the barest amount to let in some much needed oxygen. The sound of my breathing, to my own ears is deafening.
His hand grips the flesh of my hip, and I raise my head, pop open my eyes at the same time he thrusts up. I can’t help the slam of my eyes back closed against the pain of his penetration. But in that mere second I glimpsed blue eyes. Beautiful blue eyes.
He pulls back, grabbing the back of my arms while bringing his forehead into the crook of my neck.
“I’m sorry! God, I’m sorry.” His voice comes from his throat in anguish. But he pushes back in. And with my wetness, it’s easy this time. The pain, the burn of muscles stretching. I’m spiraling out of my life in surrealness. Everything is too real. The pain. The sound of the little heater, the wind against the single pane windows, rushing underneath and around us. The muffled silence of nature under snow. I am the center of the storm. His panting breath fills my ears, doing strange things to my lower region. His grip on my body is tight, he holds me to him like he can’t get enough, and I relish the feeling. New pleasures. The feel of his abdomen clenched, his thighs pulsing, his smell.
Instinct has me tightening the muscles down there. When he drags himself out, his groan is long, and I feel...empty. I move down on him, filling myself back up. Repeat my discovery. I am in control. I put my hands between us and shove him down; when he complies, dragging his hands from my arms down to my grip my butt, the look on his face. I did that. My power. I hold onto his shoulders for balance. Experimentally, I undulate my hips forward. I suck in air at the pleasurable discovery. Again, again, again. I grind on him.
I can’t look at this stranger. I tip my head to the ceiling, let my hair add another layer of sensation. The ends of it tickle the top of my butt. Out there above me, the moon is full in the sky. I picture it, it’s white glow on a snow-filled meadow. Suddenly, his hands land on my breasts. My moon bursts into a kaleidoscope of colors, firework style. The world tilts, spins. I’m lit up with the most beautiful, never-want-it-to-stop feeling. But it does stop - too short. It wasn’t enough. I want to growl at its loss, throw my fists up to the sky and demand more. I squash my impulse.
He is above me, and he grips me again, holding me to him like he can’t get enough. His own eruption happens within just a few seconds, and I close my eyes while feeling the spurts within me. When he apologizes and leaves my body, I let him go. I have only shame. The cold air of the room hits my chest, and I cover my chest in embarrassment, press my legs together to hide from him. My eyes are pressed firmly shut, and I don’t think I could pry them open for a million dollars. There is no way I can look at him. I feel his presence at my knees, a shadow behind my eyelids.
“Shit. This is blood. You’re a virgin?” Indeed a metallic smell of blood mixes in the air with our combined sweat and other bodily fluid scents.
Embarrassment, shame, settle heavily in my heart. Did I just...?
“I’m sorry.” My voice comes out small. Quiet. Weak. A tear leaks out the corner of my eye.
His breathing sounds further away. His feet press onto the floorboards with quiet padding. I hear the spin of his foot on the hardwood. His breathing comes closer. Goes further away again.
“Shit!” His word might have been meant to be said under his breath, but I hear the furious whisper. I am after all, blessed with great hearing. I peek one eye open. He is turned away from me, one hand on his hip, the other gripping his hair. I take my chance and pull the blanket around me, clasping it tightly to cover my shame. Sitting up, feeling less...just less. His liquid slides out of me. Sex is messy. I look around the room, trying to work out an escape. My eyes can’t help but stop on his form. His back is simply beautiful. In the light of the moon, his skin takes on a blue white, ethereal quality. He has wide shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. I slam my eyes shut again at the sight of his round bottom. It’s really round. High. Men have such round butts? I’d never thought about what a man’s butt might look like naked...A small smile edges around my tears.
He blows out a deep exhaling breath and I can’t resist opening my eyes to again look at his form. It’s funny, in a strange and foreign way.
“Shit!” He spins as he says it, dropping his arm along his side. I slam my eyes shut again. I especially don’t want him catching me staring at him.
“Are you ok?” His voice comes closer. His question. I don’t want to answer it. I don’t know how to answer it. I stand, and the mess slides down the inside of my thigh. I hate it. I hate myself. I press my lips together. I’ve got to get out of here. How to…?
He’s right in front of me. I can feel his heat.
“Hey…” His fingertips land on my chin. He pushes to get me to face him, but I shake my head in refusal.
“Please - “ I don’t really have words.
“Ssshhh.” His arms encircle me. His palm rubs circles on the top of the quilt covering my back.
“It’s ok. It’s ok.” He’s telling me. He’s soothing me. This stranger. He pulls away just a fraction, and swings me up into his arms. He takes the few steps to the bed, and gently deposits me on it.
“I have to...I’m sorry… I just…” I keep my eyes closed and try to figure out the words. I’m mortified. Gross. The dip in the river, the coldness would be welcome now. My mortification is at flame levels I’ve never experienced before. I’d love to just disappear. Fall through the bottom of this deer stand all the way to the earth and just keep going till I hit the earth’s core.
“I understand. Here.” I feel him tugging on the sheet. I lift my bottom when I feel it bunch underneath me, and he slides it free. The sound of ripping fabric fills the room.
His hand bumps my shoulder. He’s holding a large piece of fabric out to me.
“There’s not any water...we could try to melt some snow...but that requires going out and getting it, and our clothes aren’t quite dry yet.”
He paces to the far wall. I make quick work of mopping up. I fold the used square of fabric up to hide it’s brownish-red tell tale markings. I look around for a place to hide it. My jeans are at the end of the bed, so I quickly push the fabric into the front pocket, feeling the heat of hades in my cheeks.
“Ahem. All good?” His voice bounces back to me from the wall he is facing.
“Umm. Yes. Thank you.” Our politeness is awkward. Like we didn’t just face death together. Make love together. All in the space of a few hours. I don’t think my mother will miss me, but the car she’ll notice. The car, at the bottom of the river. My heart sinks.
“You should, umm, probably go to the bathroom.” His voice, again bouncing off the wall.
“The bathroom?” I settle onto the bed, and make sure no intimate parts of me are showing through the blanket.
“Umm. Yeah. I heard it’ll prevent UTIs.”
“What’s a UTI?” The question pops out of my mouth before I have a chance to check myself. Stupid. Keep your ignorance to yourself. You sound like a foolish little girl.
“Urinary tract infection.” This time his voice doesn’t bounce off the wall and I know he’s looking at me.
I slowly lift my eyes to where he is standing. “Oh.” His eyes are bore into my own. He’s wearing half the sheet around his waist. Probably more for my sake then his own. I slide my eyes around the room, trying to figure out where I could go…
His eyes follow mine, and then we both come to the same conclusion. My eyes return to my lap.
He speaks first. “I think this hunting camp was exclusively visited by men…”
“Right.” I can picture them throwing open the window and aiming. Men so
metimes have it so easy. I pluck a little at a loose thread on the quilt. I do have to go. My eyes wander to the door hatch in the bottom of the floor at the corner.
“Maybe you can just get down on a lower rung and...give it a go.” He suggests.
“Right.”
We meet at the hatch. “Do you mind...um…” He nods to let me know he gets the idea, pulls open the hatch and gives me his back. The cold air that swirls in, kicks me into high-gear. I thrust the blanket to the floor, scramble down the ladder and stop five rungs above the ground. My teeth chatter, and I know I won’t be able to hold onto the ladder long. My muscles are exhausted.
I look up, can’t see him, so I lower down into a half squat. It takes a few seconds, but once relieved, I scramble back up the ladder and close the hatch before he has a chance to turn around fully. He whips the blanket off the floor and wraps it around my shoulders. We both end up sitting on the bed, the little heater at our feet. His arms are around me, rubbing my arms to get the warmth back to them.
He shivers. I should give him some of the blanket. Make small talk. Something. Instead I stare ahead at the heater, shaking in the blanket, feeling like I’ll never be warm again.
“Here.” I hold out the fabric half I’m holding with my left hand.
“Are you sure? It’s ok. I don’t think I’m going to freeze to death.” His words have me looking up. He has a ghost of a smile on his face.
I nod. “I’m sure. Hurry up!” The cold air from the room is hitting my naked body.
“Close your eyes.” I do as he commands, and feel him stand at my side. He whips the blanket off my shoulder and out from under my butt. I keep my arms crossed in front of my chest, my eyes firmly shut.
“Lay down on your side.”
I do as he commands, the cold and nervousness causing me to shake now. His heated form slides behind me, and the blanket covers us both, the warmth enveloping us almost instantaneous.
My muscles relax slowly, inch by inch. My mind does not. It wants to pepper him with a million questions. What’s his name? What’s he do? How old is he? Was it bad? Does he regret it? Am I bad? I concentrate on matching my breathing rhythm to his. It lulls me away from my nervousness and into familiar territory: exhaustion.
“What’s your name, darlin’?” His voice vibrates the back of my neck.
“Glory.”
Chapter 3
Light. Behind my eyelids. Warmth at my back.
Strangeness in my heart. But not bad.
I’m in his arms. Wrapped completely.
And there’s heated flesh, rigid nestled against my bum.
I listen. His breathing is deep. He’s still asleep.
This warm intimate space we share. So foreign. So curious.
I roll to face him. Creating space between us. Our knees and feet touch, but nothing else.
He remains. Eyes closed, breathing even.
His jawline is square, under a thick five o’clock shadow. Blonde.
His nose is neither long nor aristocratic. It widens in at the top-middle, as if he was punched once and it never popped back up. It might be the only thing keeping him from being labeled ‘pretty.’
His top lip is thin, his bottom just a tad bigger, but peach-nude in perfect color.
His brows slash thickly over his eyes.
Which are now open. Watching me.
“Go ahead.”
“What?” I ask.
“Look your fill. Touch. Explore. Do what you want.”
He knows my curiosity. A flush of warmth blooms up my neck and into my cheeks.
I look down to his chin, unable to hold his gaze.
I raise my right hand slowly. Bring it down. My palm lands on his collarbone.
The warmth from his skin raises a simple pleasure in me.
My instinct is to press my lips there.
I look to him. Suck in a breath at the lust in his gaze.
I want to. So badly. But I don’t know how to ask permission.
He dips his head once, shuttering his eyes.
“Glory. Yes. Do it. Whatever you want.” Ragged words torn from his throat. He reaches out, snagging my elbows, dragging me against his chest.
A flash of pure power and lust. This man wants me.
I revel in the crash of our lips and tongues tangling, the crush of my breasts against his chest.
Pooling pleasure. But this isn’t what I want. Yet.
Pulling back, I let my lips hit that spot on his collarbone my hand had found earlier.
My hand finds its way to his chest. His waist. His hip.
My lips follow the trail blazed by my hands.
A rush. My heartbeat pounds. Be brave.
I pull back again. Eye to eye with it.
Dusky pink flesh. Bobbing inches from my cheek.
My fingers circle around it, my palm feeling it’s heat. The texture of the skin is incredibly smooth. “Like this.” His hand comes around mine and glides up and down. This fit inside me?
I look up. I hold this man in the palm of my hand. His expression is tense.
The muscles in his jaw, clenching and unclenching.
“Does it hurt?”
He shakes his head. And removes his hand from the top of mine. I give a few more strokes, unaided.
I inch my mouth close. Exhale at the top of his dick. A tiny drop of moisture ekes out and before I consider my actions, my tongue darts out to taste it.
Salty. He groans quietly, swallows thickly.
Watches me from beneath hooded eyes as I lick it again. Taste it like I would my favorite ice cream cone.
Lifting my fingers to his lips, he sucks my index finger between them. Swirls his tongue around and against around the pad.
He’s teaching me, but in the sexiest way possible. I pull my finger out from behind his lips, but he grips my wrist, putting it back in his mouth down to the knuckle, dragging it out slowly.
Repeats the pleasure. Then nips the pad of my finger with his teeth. I’m panting from his demonstration.
I push him more fully onto his back. Grip him with my right hand. Dip.
That heated flesh barely fits into my mouth. I suck down as he demonstrated on my finger and up again.
Am rewarded with is exalted exhalation of breath.
Again. Swirling my tongue around the top as he showed me.
Again. Discovering his body, the velvet smoothness of him.
Again, following my lips and squeezing my hand back up.
“God damn. Glory.” He pulls me up to his side, pushing me to my back. Following with a passionate kiss. He doesn’t mind that I just had him in my mouth?
Apparently not from the ardent fervor of his kiss.
That magnificent flesh presses into my hip, and I undulate to let him know I’m ready.
“Not yet.” He smiles, lowering his lips to my collarbone, breasts, bellybutton, hips.
His cheek is at the top of my thigh.
“Do you trust me?”
I can only nod my head in the affirmative as he tugs open my legs, and tastes.
I never want to leave this hunting ground in the woods.
A man worshipping me. Bathing me in pleasure.
Welcome to life.
Chapter 4
“They’ll be here soon.”
His words pop the bubble of time we’ve been in. I nod my head in agreement, not meeting his eyes as I pull my pants up.
A large part of me doesn’t want to go back. Back to the realities of working hard, scraping by, and always being the burden. The piece of gum stuck to the bottom of someone’s shoe. That’s how I felt. How my mother treated me.
I hear the helicopter coming from the south. The weather has broken. Our absence has been noted, and rescue is imminent.
“Listen. Glory…”
I stop him before he can say words of regret. Or words of let’s-stay-in-touch.
“Nick. I know this is has been...weird.” I settle on the most mundane of descriptors. “But you don’t h
ave to apologize for it or make promises.”
“You’ll be ok?”
“Yes.” I won’t lie to myself. Giving him up will be hard. But he’s human. He can’t come back to the pack with me. He can’t meet my mother. And he can’t know what I am.
We climb down the ladder. At the bottom, we can hear the search dogs barking in the distance. The search party is close.
His hand encircles mine. I smile at him, grateful for his support in this moment.
I refuse to go to the hospital. In the back of the ambulance, I sit on the bumper with one of those scratch wool rescue blankets around my shoulders.
The hunting cabin was just a couple miles off a back road highway. Our rescue party was parked there, dispersing and reporting. Wrapping up the business at hand.
According to the local sheriff, Justice was the one to have made the report of my disappearance. She’d be here to pick me up shortly.
A minivan coasts in from the opposite direction. A pretty blonde woman jumps out of the driver’s seat as soon as it comes to a stop.
She flies into Nick’s arms. Buries her head into his neck and shoulder.
I saw her face. The pureness. Love. Relief. Joy.
I never considered.
Movement from the van draws my eye away from their embrace.
The side door is opening. Two children spill out in the uncoordinated movements of youngsters.
This is his wife. Children. Nick and she disengage so that he can scoop up the two kids in hugs.
Reunited.
A scent of home flits through my consciousness.
“Who’s that?”
Justice’s voice reaches my ears from behind me.
I turn to her, hugging her to me.
Beautiful girl. Fifteen. Chestnut brown hair. Green eyes. Alabaster skin.
“Justice. Thank god. Let’s go home. I’m tired.”
I don’t turn back. Life’s given me something. Precious. A secret, temporary, love. Like the joy of blowing a big soapy bubble. It floats, it floats so high. Then. Pop.
Glory Reborn Page 2