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I pull away reluctantly, carrying the plates to the sink, yet the memory of that brief contact lingers, leaving a warmth that stays with me as I quietly wash the dishes.
The air between us is charged with a tension that is more than just the product of our circumstances. It's as if the very cabin, with its wooden walls and earthen scents, is holding its breath, witnessing the unfolding of an unforeseen bond.
As night descends, Emma gets comfy by the fire, content to nosily rifle through my modest collection of books and pick one out.
As she reads, I shower off the residue from the day and try -and fail- to not think of my mate just outside the bathroom. Every thought of her is welcome torture: her soft lips, her wavy hair that I long to bury my nose in, and the simple way her eyes light up when she speaks of plants and nature and botany.
All of it sends tension and heat to my cock.
The water cascades around me, running down my chest and along my hardening length. I reach down, fingers curling around the base and hissing a breath as her lips come to mind.
I slowly stroke myself, remembering the sweet scent of her arousal– as if her body has already recognized me as her mate too. As I imagine her cunt, what it will look like, what it will taste like, a low, instinctual groan escapes me.
Bracing one hand against the shower wall, I stroke and rub at my aching erection. Instincts beg me to go find my mate, her sweetness between her legs, but I know that wouldn’t be welcome. Not yet. So I settle for my hand and the quick, familiar release it brings.
Only after, I finish my shower in a haze of warmth. But as I dry off, the quiet brings other thoughts and a sense of unease grips me. The poachers will soon realize their trap hadn't snared an animal. My mind races with the possibilities. Will they come back, looking for her, driven by fear of being reported to the authorities? The thought tightens my chest with worry.
They are a constant threat in these woods, and now they are a threat to my mate.
Even though I wish to check the perimeter, I decide to stay inside, ensuring her safety. I know I can't leave Emma alone, not when danger lurks so close.
Emma, unaware of the silent threat, settles into my bed after much insistence, her injured leg still a hindrance. I make my own bed on the floor, a guardian poised in silent vigilance.
The cabin is quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the dying fire. I lie awake, my thoughts a tumultuous sea. Emma's gentle breathing is a lullaby that both soothes and torments me. As I watch over her, the moon casting a silver glow through the window, I know that the bond between us is growing, an invisible thread weaving our lives together in the most unexpected way. I’m content with the night passing in a state of alertness, guarding not just the cabin, but also the fragile, human female who has already captured my heart.
“Aiden?” A quiet voice pierces the darkness, drawing my attention to the bed.
4
Emma
“Aiden?”
My quiet voice pierces the darkness. Even though I can barely see him in the heavy darkness of the room, I know I have his attention.
I'm not sure what compels me to speak, perhaps it's the unfamiliarity of the cabin or the eerie silence of the night, but suddenly, the solitude is too overwhelming.
"I thought you were asleep," he says softly, his voice a comforting rumble in the quiet room.
"No, I haven't been able to," I admit, feeling a bit exposed but needing to voice my request. Gathering a bit of courage, I continue, “Will you join me?”
There's a moment where everything seems to pause, and I wonder if I've asked too much.
I see him hesitate, and I start to backtrack, to apologize. What is wrong with me to request such a thing? Worse, what does it make my big, strong savior think about me? "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me, I just-"
"Shh, it's fine."
As if coming to a decision, I hear him get up and make his way to the bed.
"No, no, really. I-"
"Emma. You should never apologize for voicing what you want. Ever."
The words wrap around me, oddly intimate, comforting.
As he carefully gets onto the bed, maintaining a respectful distance, I'm acutely aware of his body – the way his presence fills the space, the quiet strength that emanates from him. It's both reassuring and unnerving. Warmth radiates from him, a contrast to the cool night air of the cabin.
We fall quiet for a few moments and I would give anything to know what he's thinking.
