Chapter 3
Clara
I lay still as Asterion’s lips work their way to my breasts, nuzzling and sucking lightly on each nipple. “Did you get what you desired, sweet Clara?” His hands are in my hair, lips on my neck, sending shivers down my spine.
“Yes, Asterion.” I breathe.
“I like the way you say my name.” He murmurs into my neck.
He pulls away and looks at me, “Why did you feel shy to ask for what you wanted?”
He sounds so genuinely quizzical at this that I almost don’t want to tell him, but some part of me needs to tell someone. I brush my fingertips lightly over his eyebrows and over his ears, still in wonder at the thick muscles along his neck and chest.
I stumble over my words. “Sex was never something I learned to enjoy…no, not learned. Something I was never given an opportunity to enjoy.” I shook my head.
That wasn't right either. “My husband felt it was…disgusting of me to act like I wanted sex. Only men could act this way.” I huffed. “In his opinion.”
Asterion stares at me with a look I cannot interpret. “Your husband is not here.”
It’s not a question. “No, he isn’t.” I pause. I might as well just say it. “I ran away from him about four months ago.”
Asterion sighs. I am on tenterhooks waiting for his reaction to this.
I don’t know how his kind feels about marriage or vows.
What if he leaves, knowing I am still married?
Instead, Asterion is gazing down at my body, taking in all of me.
For some reason, I no longer feel shy and instead feel proud.
My body is no longer youthful as it once was, but this is what I have, and I want to be proud of it.
I see it in his eyes, the way they linger on my breasts that have slight stretch marks, my soft belly, the curve of my rounded hips.
“Your husband is a fool.” He states.
“On that we can agree.” It’s then that I notice his stare has stopped at my upper inner arm, where there is a cigar-shaped burn, perfectly placed by Mark about a month before I left. He chose that spot so that it could be covered easily by clothes. I shift my body and look away from Asterion.
“He hurt you.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“I will never understand man.”
“That makes two of us.” I smile at him now, trying to convey that I am okay now. “Why did you save me?”
Asterion shifts uncomfortably now. “It was my fault I scared you in the first place. I wandered too far into the tree line. I usually stay much further into the forest when I hunt. I was trying to sneak away from you, to not startle you.” He shrugs.
“But I stepped on the branch, and you took off. I watched you stumble, and when you did not get back up, I knew you were injured. It was my fault. I could not leave you. You would die.”
I had so many questions for this man. I no longer thought of him as a monster. He seemed to sense I had so much to ask him, but this was already the most words I had heard him speak. He kissed me gently now, as if stopping my mouth.
“Let us bathe, and I will feed you. Yes?”
A bath and food? “Yes, please,” I said, a smile of true joy on my face for the first time in years.
???
AFTER OUR LATE lunch, we sit on the deck together with mugs of steaming hot tea, watching the wildlife.
I am bundled in two quilts, while Asterion sits comfortably in his naked form.
A deer walks near the tree line, pausing as it sees us, but tiptoes away just as quietly as it came, deeper into the forest.
“How old are you?” I blurt out, ruining our comfortable silence.
“Ancient.”
I roll my eyes at this. “But what does that mean? How many years?”
“How old are you?” He counters.
“I’m 35.”
“That is good for me to know. It is impossible for me to guess human ages anymore. Your kind lives longer and longer now.”
I pout at this. “See, that tells me nothing. 100? 200? Older? Younger?”
He smiles at me and sips his tea. “Fine, I will tell you. It is a short tale, really. I do not know how old I truly am. I was a warrior for a great King. We lived in the King’s labyrinth, which also served as a portal between worlds.
When this labyrinth collapsed, I found myself flung forward in time.
” He paused, looking out into the forest that stretched before us.
“There was nothing here, just me and the forest. I have seen your kind emerge, grow, and build. From my limited knowledge, you are a great kingdom now, yes?” He looks at me questioningly.
“Yes, in a way, I guess,” I say this quietly, taking in his story, still trying to do the math. “You have been…alone all this time?”
“Mostly alone. At times, humans have found me. But this forest has always been remote. To me, this cabin is brand new.”
I laugh at this, knowing this cabin has been in Kate’s family for nearly 50 years. “This is my friend’s cabin. She is the first one I called when I ran away from Mark. She immediately thought this would be the best place for me to hide.”
He is frowning at me now. “This Mark, he is chasing you?” His body is rigid in the chair.
“I know he is.” I realize now I am shivering in my quilts. The sun is nearly fully set, and the temperature is dropping rapidly.
Asterion, who doesn’t seem to be affected by the cold at all, sees me shivering. He looks around the forest, as though Mark might be hiding in a tree. “Let us go back inside and warm up.”
I am grateful for the warmth of the cabin.
With plenty of firewood, Asterion has roaring fires going in every fireplace, including the antique oven.
He leads me to the large couch in front of the crackling fire in the living room.
It was another thing I had teased Kate about on the phone when I saw it for the first time, as it looked like something out of an old western movie.
A huge moose head hung over the stone mantle, towering over the equally gigantic mouth of the fireplace.
Each stone within it was as large as a small boulder, and the inside was big enough for me to sit in comfortably.
The cabin still had the original metal framework, allowing for a pot or tea kettle to be swung over the fire.
Finishing off the entire look was a massive, sturdy crochet rug on the floor just in front of the fireplace, worn soft by the years.
I tuck my feet to the side of me and lean into Asterion, as he pulls me into his side.
I can smell his scent, piney and fresh, mixed with something dark and earthy.
I feel my body react instinctively to him, the familiar rush of warmth starting between my legs.
He is so tall that my face has to lean back to see him fully, but instead, my mouth reaches for his nipple, and I hear him gasp as I take it in my mouth, suckling on it greedily.
“Clara…” He moans. I feel the quilts being lifted away from me, hear them dropping to the floor as he lifts me off the couch and plants me firmly on his lap.
I feel his hard cock digging through my thin pajama pants, and I lean forward to suckle his other nipple, grinding myself into him.
My tongue snakes its way up to his neck, nipping and suckling as I go until our mouths crash together.
His strong hands are now on my ass, squeezing me firmly, pressing me down onto him so hard I wonder that he might tear a hole in my pajamas.
His lips are burning on mine, our tongues exploring as I struggle to rip off my shirt. With a growl, he pulls away and yanks it off of me, throwing it to the floor. We stare at one another for a moment, chests rising together. My breasts are full, nipples hard peaks of need.
I move first, scratching my nails down his chest, lifting myself up slightly so I can grasp his hard, thick cock in my hands, stroking him.
He looks down at my hand, tiny in comparison to his thick cock, before he pushes himself off the couch and we crash to the floor on the crocheted rug in front of the hot fire. Quick as a flash, he tears my thin bottoms from my legs and sits back between my knees, surveying me in the firelight.
I sit up on my elbows, watching as he grasps his cock in his own strong hands and slowly strokes it, staring at my cunt.
“You are wet.”
“Yes.” I breathe.
“I do not want to hurt you.” His golden eyes find my green ones.
I shake my head. “You won’t, I want you too much.” I am practically panting now.
“Lie down.” He scooches nearer to me, the tip of his cock millimeters from my entrance.
“No, I want to watch.”
He pauses at this and then only nods. He runs the tip of his hard cock up and down my labia, slicking himself with me. He pauses at my clit, rubbing himself over me so slowly. I try to buck against him, needing friction where there isn’t any, but he stops completely and waits for me to still.
Then, he spreads my legs apart further, and I am truly exposed to him now.
I watch as he guides himself into me, one small centimeter at a time, and a whimper escapes my throat at the sensation.
It’s uncontrollable how much I want him to fill me up.
I move myself into him deeper, taking him inch by inch, watching his thick cock disappear into me, stretching me.
It goes on and on, and at one poin,t my eyes roll as I let my head fall back, lost in the sensation.
Nothing could ever compare to this, and I know I am doomed.
He is still sitting up as he begins to rock into me, his balls slapping into my ass with each slow, excruciating thrust. I need more and I cannot find the words, instead my hands scrabble at his hard chest, unintelligible sounds coming from my mouth.
Somehow, he understands my need and grasps each of my ankles, spreading me apart, and begins to pump into me.
I hear myself growl at this, and I reach each hand to clasp his thick thighs, pulling him into me.