Chapter 8
Emmie
“Emmie?” a gravelly voice rumbles beneath my ear.
Flinging myself up, I almost slip off the Gatekeeper's lap when his strong arms steady me. “Emmie, are you alright? I do not sense danger nearby?” His brow furrowed in concern. An ache forms across my back and legs, a little stiff from sleeping in an obscure position. Is that a drool patch on his shirt? Closing my eyes, I let the memories wash over me. I drowned in a thermal mountain pool and ended up in Hell, naked. Well, a version of it at least. I still need to ask about the other realms, are they all like this one? I met a giant protector man, and saw his cock. I guess that’s one way to welcome new arrivals.
You’ve arrived in Hell, here’s my massive third arm.
Handshake? I accidentally ran toward a spider man, got scared shitless, and now I have no big plans to leave the Gatekeepers side any time soon.
“Emmie?” he questions again, softly rubbing my back, and I open my eyes to find his ice blue ones still staring at me.
“I'm sorry, I'm just waking up and taking stock of everything. I'm alright.” I rest my hand on his chest, the familiar pulse shooting through me as I try to reassure him. I’m not sure of what the social etiquette is for how we interact, but I like the way his rich brown skin looks beneath my palm.
“I will fix us some food and then we must depart,” he says, lifting me gently to my feet.
My standing height is equal to his sitting, and I don't lift my hand as we separate, causing it to slowly drag down his hard muscles.
I peer up at him, cheeks flushing, his gaze focused on where my hand rests against the waistband of his pants.
“I feel much better this morning. It must be like you said. I'm acclimatising to being here. Is there a place I can … is there a bathroom?” The sudden strain on my bladder making me curl inward, but I resist the urge to cross my legs just yet.
“Yes, the door is through the bedroom.”A knowing smirk on his face as I rush to get to it in time.
I don't know what I was expecting, but I could weep at the sight of the toilet in the small space.
Quickly relieving myself, there's no mirror to check my reflection.
I try combing my hair with my fingers but after the fourth knot there's no way I'm working through them all without a proper brush.
Separating my unkempt length into three sections, I set to work.
Plaiting it at least gives me the illusion of being put together when it feels like I'm one step closer to a nervous breakdown.
Stepping into the living space, the kitchen is similar to what I'm used to. Cupboards high and low, a wooden bench with a jar of utensils next to an open bread bin. There's even a bowl of what looks like chicken eggs on the bench. Hell hens, that's new.
“Forgive me, I've not made any fresh bread, but yesterday's is still fine to eat.
I've let the embers die because we will be away, but I can start a fire again if you would prefer it toasted.” He stands in the kitchen wearing a fresh set of clothes, holding out a plate with two slices of bread smothered in a spread of some type.
“Is that jam?” I question. “Shouldn't I be eating rats and gnawing on bones and stuff?”
“It is elderberry … We’re not heathens in this realm, Emmie. There will be a number of things that transcend our worlds and will feel familiar.”
“And jam is one of them?”
“Yes, jam is a gift that should be savoured.” He says, a slight grin on his lips as he picks up on my humour.
“You may eat while we walk. Equina grows restless.”
Striding through the front door, he walks confidently to the edge of the water, and I quickly follow behind.
Making sure to stand several metres away, I know the Gatekeeper is one with the Gate, but I saw how quickly it absorbed that spider man yesterday, so I for one, am not rushing over to jump in.
Squatting down, he places his hand so it barely touches the surface.
His fingers spread, and his palm is flat, smiling widely over his shoulder at me before he stands and moves to my side.
Call me a Lepidopterist, because I suddenly have a kaleidoscope of butterflies in my stomach.
I don't know whether to giggle or gasp from the sudden ache in my core but if he keeps flashing that smile at me I might have to figure out how to mount him.
A running leap perhaps? He's a literal mountain.
Touching his hand to my chest, the pulse deepens, and he says my name, repeating the same gesture as the day before when I told him.
“Emmie”
Pulling his arm away, he holds it out straight, just above his head height, when the water of the Gate begins to ripple. Large hoofs erupt from the obsidian depths, the chest of a gigantic horse coming to rest against the Gatekeeper's hand.
“Equina,” he whispers, simply rubbing the length of her muzzle before she nudges against him, and he chuckles at the affection.
I, on the other hand, stand there slack jawed.
What the fuck just happened? A horse just leapt out of the water.
Its almost white mane flowing over tan fur, a likeness that is almost identical to the Gatekeepers.
Brass chains and rings adorn her mane as her head dips lower, and she nuzzles my hair.
Blowing her hot breath in my face as she assesses me.
I should be screaming at the giant golden horse creature sniffing me … I should be, but I’m not.
The Gatekeeper quickly rises and steps in behind me, taking a knee so we are a more equal height.
My back presses to his front and I gasp as fireworks light up my skin.
His arm wraps around my waist, securing me in place as he pushes the horse away, but none of it registers because I'm busy biting my lip trying to stop the guttural moan that's climbing up my throat.
I want to rock against him, hump him into oblivion so I can carry on with being a functioning human, focus on anything other than this need to connect with him.
I lean back, losing the fight with that blasted moan when I feel a noticeable hardness against my ass.
He brings his head to the crook of my neck. His nose dragging the length of my ear.
“Are you well, Emmie?” he purrs, and I sink further into his embrace.
A satisfied chuckle slips past his lips as he feels how my body responds to him.
“This is Equina, she is my trusted companion when I ride to the village and will keep us safe on our travels. She will not harm you.” He murmurs the last part, his lips grazing my ear.
My skin alive from the heat of his breath.
Standing, he takes my hand and guides me back to the cottage.
Equina follows closely behind, the Gatekeeper giving an affectionate stroke to her mane before leaving me alone on the front porch.
Prodding me with her muzzle, my senses return, my cheeks flaming from the most erotic experience of my life, and all he did was touch me.
God, that's depressing. I hear him move about the cottage for a couple of minutes, a slight smile to his mouth as he appears in the door frame, before slinging a saddle over Equina's back.
He secures it along with two saddlebags, filled to the brim with god knows what.
“I am ready,” he states, leaping, he leaps, onto her back and offers me a hand, which I tentatively take.
I'm perched awkwardly in front of him, and he pulls me back against his chest, an unmistakable bulge pressing into my ass, and I can feel the blush travel down my neck and on my chest. Wiggling a little, my legs barely fall over Equina's back. I must look ridiculous perched atop her. I can hear the occasional grunt coming from behind me as I try to get comfy. Rocking forward, I hold the saddle horn, steadying myself as I slowly roll back, a full body tremor rippling through me as my pussy gets a taste of the friction she’s looking for.
Large hands grip my hips, easing me against the hard body behind me, and I swear I hear my name whispered in the breeze.
A desperate plea for more, but clearly it's my imagination because the strength in his hands loosens, leaving my body as he holds the reins in front of me.
All this lust is going right to my head.
We pass the cottage and join a small gravel road with fields on either side. For as far as I can see, there is wheat with small pockets of dark forest. A juxtaposition of dark greens and blacks against warm honey coloured fields.
“You asked me last night what my name is. My true name. To the rest of the Realm, I am the Gatekeeper, but my mother called me Portarius at my birth. If you would like to, you may call me that.”
I can't see his face, but the soothing rumble of his voice relaxes me further back into his chest. The red sun is almost directly in front of us, and the only sound that can be heard above the rustling wind is the heavy step of Equina.
I've had a few boyfriends over the years, nothing amazing, and none of them are worth crying over. The one thing they all seem to have in common is that not a single one of them has come close to igniting any sort of visceral emotion in me.
“Portarius,” I say, trying out the foreign accent on my tongue. My linguistics degree finally serving its purpose. Surely this is Latin in origin?
“Say it again.” He rasps.
I preen over the effect I have on him. The not so subtle clues only reinforcing this is a mutual attraction.
Not only because of the hoarse tone of his voice, but because the bulge pressed into me has grown harder.
There were always so many games being played when I tried to date back home.
Unknown rules you followed that didn’t make sense.
I’m attracted to everything about Portarius, so fuck 'em, I’m going to lean into whatever is developing here and see what happens.
It's not fair that a highlight, yes, a highlight, in my sexual encounters playlist, was getting finger blasted during high school biology lab on dissection day. I’m not even convinced he washed his hands. Foul.
In all my research, nothing ever came up saying a human couldn’t be with a monster from Hell, so why the fuck can't I?
“Portarius?” I say, a little breathy. His arm wrapping around me tightly, muscles flexing. I get a huff of acknowledgment, relishing that I affect him as much as he does me. His thumb makes a slow drag, rubbing against my waist. “How long until we arrive at the village?”
“When the red sun dips behind us. It is a full day's ride, sweet Emmie.” Clearing his throat, he leans forward as close to my ear as possible in this position. “We must stay like this all day, pressed together … like we are one.”