Chapter Four
The forest was silent around Stephano, all except for the water gurgling past him in the stream. He stilled his hand as he became aware of something, not a sound, but a sensation. It flowed over him more in the form of a scent than anything else. Wild lilacs and lavender. His shaft was hot and tense in his hand. He needed a few more strokes to finish what he’d started. He drew in a lungful of the subtle aroma and a groan slipped past his control.
Hot, explicit images of a perfectly delicate form filled his mind, coupled with the ultra-soft feel of warm skin sliding over his heated flesh. The fantasy included nails scoring his back, marking him. Legs wrapped around his hips, locking him tight. Long, thick hair brushed against his flesh.
It was so real he could feel the pulse of a heartbeat along his erection. The pending orgasm swelled his shaft to such a degree it hurt. He bit back another groan but couldn’t stop the rushing awareness that he was going to come. With a wild shout, he began pumping through his tight fist. Each stroke lightly jostled his balls the way he liked it. He could clearly imagine them bouncing up against softness of the woman he possessed. Relief built instead of breaking. The longer it rose, the weaker he felt, until with a rush, he hit orgasm.
The first pulse of seed shot out in hot burst, followed by the next, and the next. His back arched, his ass clenched, and his body thrummed with the strength of the orgasm. He shuddered through the pulses, struggling to breathe even with his mouth wide open to draw in air. Pleasure arrowed up and down his back and stomach, tightening and loosening his muscles repeatedly. Exhausted, but still caught in the grip of the release, he fell back onto the forest floor.
His cock was still sensitive minutes later when he weakly released his grip. He lifted his head and stared down in amused disbelief. Cream pooled on his stomach, more spilled down the ruddy head as one more spurt decided to follow the dozens before it.
“I’m in Hades all over again,” he muttered on a groan.
It felt that way. Except this time, he was able to come, he reminded himself.
He let his head fall back down and stared up past the canopy of trees. An image of Maeve formed from them, not surprising, since she was the reason he was out here, on his back with his wet cock drying in the cool night air. Maeve. Even her name was erotic. Mae-vee, or Mae, he whispered in his mind, experiencing a jolt of adrenaline-laced arousal.
“Hades if I didn’t know better…” He’d swear the god of the dead was toying with him, again. But this wasn’t Hades. Or any other god. This was a reaction to a woman. A beautiful woman, true, but one woman all the same.
He shook his hands, much as Maeve had near the stream and looked around for something to wipe them on. Moss. The ground was covered in the rich, green softness. He grunted. It will have to do. He got most of it off, then rose and walked the few steps to the bank of the brook to clean the rest. The water was bitterly cold. He gritted his teeth at the temperature but soldiered on. His body shrank back down to normal size, not pleased at all with the frigid washing.
If this was going to be the routine, he had to start bringing a towel with him. Something to clean himself off with. And hot water.
A twig snapped close by. He tucked himself away and hastily looked around. Seconds later he still couldn’t pinpoint anyone. If Ajax is out here laughing his ass off at me…
He waited longer than he wanted to, but finally headed back to camp. Garret nodded curtly when he slipped by. Tired and ready for sleep, he took his place by the fire, then froze. Maeve’s tent was empty. He spotted her bedroll when the wind lifted the tent flap. Halfway to his feet, he paused, then sank down. If he went back out, Garret would want to know why. Once was acceptable, but unless he claimed a sore stomach, twice so close together would make the man want to investigate.
Undecided, he rolled to his side, facing her tent. Maybe she was in there, but not on her bedroll. Maybe she was on the other side of the tent. They’d only pitched her one, since it wasn’t raining or cold, why bother with more? Still, he wished she was out here, in the open, so he could watch her as he wanted.
The scent of lavender and lilacs settled over him again, this time soothing him into almost slipping into sleep. Something caught his attention though and he snapped his heavy lids open. There. A slight movement at the rear of her tent he wouldn’t have seen if not for the moon. Maeve. She wiggled under the side, struggling a bit to pull herself through, but she did it silently. He thought she tugged too hard on her gown once because she froze half on her side her head down as if sensing whether or not anyone heard. When nothing happened, she dropped her head to the ground and he thought she sighed. It wasn’t a sound, but a movement of her shoulders.
Why so nervous? Where had she been?
She’d gone off once after dinner, Brennan standing when she did, then nodding at her flush. The men had all gotten busy, cleaning up the camp obviously not wanting to embarrass her. Women had to piss as well as men, or take a dump, but he doubted that’s why she’d left camp this time. She’d snuck past Garret to get back in. Not an easy thing to do, either. Why? Garret wouldn’t have embarrassed her by saying anything. Narc would, but that was him and she deserved it.
The hair on the back of his neck shivered upright. He narrowed his eyes, seeing her even clearer now. She watched me. She was there. Watching. The idea had another hard on swell to life. If she watched me, she wants me. Maybe she masturbated as she watched me. He reached down and eased his cock to the left so it wasn’t being strangled.
If she had watched, if she had stroked her pussy, he was going to make sure she tried again tomorrow night. I’ll be waiting. And when she did show up… His balls tingled, the memory of sinking into warm, willing flesh—now her flesh—made his body tense in anticipation. Sweat broke out on his brow and along his arms. It’s been so long. And now, to have her?
He rolled to his back and stared blankly at the stars. Maeve is small. I’ll have to go slow, easy, at least at first. Then… He drew in a deep breath filled with the scent of her. Then I’m going to have her pussy squeezing down on my cock in orgasms she’ll never forget.
* * * *
Maeve knew something was different with Stephano. She was afraid to contemplate why. If he’d discovered…if he’d realized. The memory of him last night, the moonlight caressing his bronzed skin as he stroked his erection flooded her mind. With the rush of images, she felt weak with desire. He’d enjoyed every slip of his hand up and down his thick column of flesh.
She stifled the memory, refusing to let the arousal burn through her again. If she did… A ghost of a tremble slithered down her spine. She glanced over at her brother, not sensing he was aware of her difficulty. Taking a deep breath, she focused on her cooking. She finished with the last of the flat breads, cooling her fingers with a quick shake after retrieving the last one, and got her heartbeat down to normal.
“Careful, that looks hot.”
Stephano. She stiffened but covered it up quickly by wiping her fingers on a towel.
Stephano snatched one of the breads, giving her arm a caress when he did. Sparks of awareness tingled everywhere. She picked up her water and sipped at it deeply, forcing her body to obey her. I will not grow aroused. I will not think about him. The pattern of her breathing slowed enough for her to set her water down and face him.
He winked, mouth full. Such color filled his irises—amber, but lighter, filled with more green than hers. Hazel, she thought, suddenly wondering how the hazelnuts she used to pick could relate to the swirls flickering inward in his irises.
His shaggy brow cocked up and he showed off his smile. It was practiced. Everything about him rang false, except his strength and power, and of course, when he had come last night. She’d watched his back bow and his muscles bulge as his body shot out a stream of pearly white semen. His shaft had been large, so big and rounded, the brown color visible even in the dimness of the midnight hour.
“This is good. Stew again, or is it called chowder?”
She sighed. He seemed to enjoy tormenting her. She had a feeling he’d enjoy tormenting her with his body too.
He responded to her sign of disapproval with a bigger grin. “I’d guess chowder. Potatoes to make it thick?”
She nodded hesitantly, lifting an eyebrow in question on how he knew. He ignored her and hummed to himself, simply smiling at her from his seat by the cook fire. It was frustrating. He was exasperating. Even if she didn’t want to like him, he was so flirtatious that she found herself liking him anyway.
It was obvious he wanted sex. By the practiced ease he spoke to her, cajoled her and touched her, she guessed he wasn’t often told no. She could understand that. Still, it upset her. Jealous, ‘Aeve? As if you will ever own a man, have him call you his and be true to you?
The direction of her thoughts sobered her, chilling her better than the icy stream. She checked on the chowder, which she had thickened with potatoes, and went through a list of their supplies in her mind. The milk would not last. Not in this heat. She would use it tomorrow for a breakfast of eggs and biscuits. They would be nearing an outpost in a few days. Brennan could barter for more there. They still had cold tack, hard honey-sweetened squares she’d made with oats and nuts. There was salted venison and salted pork. Vegetables were good, as well as the apples but she only had a few pears. She still had bit of cheese, and more than enough oats for porridge.
“I always like cream. It makes a heavy, smoother taste on the tongue.”
Startled out of her thoughts, she glanced at Stephano. He was rubbing his ear. He did that, she noticed, when he was being bad. She’d thought there was a hole, as if at one time he’d worn an ear ring, but such a feminine thing would appear ridiculous on him. He was too…manly. He did wear a silver clasp in his hair, around the leather holding it back, but she thought that more convenience than actual jewelry. But there was that ring…the circular pattern drew her eyes often. She wondered why he wore it, and if it meant anything. Brennan wore a pendant, but she had given it to him years ago. No doubt he would stop wearing it when they reached this new realm.
“Yeah, Ajax burns the house down, I make meals. It helps, being a single guy.”
A single guy. She doubted he was ever single for long.
“’Aeve, what do we need tomorrow?” Brennan asked as he walked up, Alrick a step behind him. Her cheeks grew warm and for some reason her stomach did a flip-flop. It wasn’t as if they’d caught her touching Stephano. Having him near made her feel off center, almost…guilty. “Can you show me the supplies? I don’t want to dig into your packing.”
She didn’t want him to either. She dusted her hands off, then picked up the spoon to stir the chowder with and handed it to Stephano. He brushed his fingers along hers as he took it, causing a tight knot of desire to try to break free. She frowned at him, the pot then the spoon.
“Got it. Stir the supper or everyone will blame me if it burns.”
She spun on her heel, bumping right into Alrick. He steadied her, but she walked on, not daring to glance at him in case he saw the passion she was trying to bank. She heard him chuckle behind her and say something about he would stay and make sure nothing was burned. Relieved, she kept walking, a silent presence at her back. She worried he knew something was wrong, but as soon as they were by the horses he grinned.
“Alrick has offered us a place to live. He needs good men. He has promised we could stay on his lands. He has cottages, much nicer than anything we’ve had before, I’m certain. I can aid them and we can live there. You’ll be safe, ‘Aeve. Safe.”
She smiled, forcing the happy expression past numb lips. Brennan had no idea. He was bursting with the news, the happiness of finally finding a place to stow her away like he did everything he cherished. But she would never be safe there, and eventually, if she stayed with him, she’d ruin things.
“You’ll see,” he went on, taking her hands again.
The touch was so rare she felt as if her heart were going to break. Tears washed her eyes but she ducked her head to hide them and tightened her hands on his. I love him so much. Why can’t he see he’s better off without me?
“It’s going to be good. Safe. You’ll be safe. We need to get through this, then we’re safe.”
She feared it wouldn’t be that easy. It never was that easy. Not with me.