“Would you,” he asked softly. “Would you have me?”
Not even Martin was foolish enough to expect an answer. Yet he sat, breathing harshly and shivering, waiting for nothing, until his eyes were dry and the moon was high overhead.
MARTIN DID NOT want to go home, so he stayed. He drifted through owls calling and the chatter of raccoons. He grew numb to the cold. He did not think he slept, but he was warm in his bed one moment and in the midnight blue of the woods the next. He was cushioned and comfortable, his face no longer pressed to hard bark. It was a struggle not to immediately fall back asleep, but something told him to keep his eyes open.
He was still beneath the tree, though he had turned to lean against something else, and he half-thought the doe had returned, but this felt much bigger. A pressure at his back held him up, like an arm around him might feel, and the gentlest breeze stirred his hair and made him murmur in sleepy complaint as he lifted his head.
The shape above him might have been more branches, if branches breathed, and had hair that reached their shoulders and which tickled Martin’s ear when he moved.
Martin tensed, abruptly wide awake, and the creature supporting him tensed as well. Martin was pressed to bare skin. He splayed his fingers over stiff muscles and chest hair and realized he was using a shoulder for a pillow. This was a human, a sort of a human, a spirit of magic with a large body and the curl of antlers at the top of its head.
Martin reached up to touch the antlers without thinking, then froze, staring into faintly shining eyes. The rest of the creature’s face was shadowed. Martin was close enough to feel the creature’s breath against his lips.
“Am I dreaming?” Martin asked, nearly flinching at the sound of human words in this place. The creature who had been keeping him warm did not answer. “How are you not cold?” Martin wondered in the next moment, his hand falling back to the naked chest. He did not look down to see if the rest of the creature was naked, though it must be. It was no fairy, nor anything else Martin had heard of. It was bearded, and big enough for its steps through the woods to frighten a foolish Martin.
Martin’s fingers gently tugged on the beard without his say-so. He did not know what had come over him, except to wonder if he still dreamed.
The beard was almost lush. Martin found the corner of a mouth with his fingertips and he jerked his hand away, only to then slide it upward to feel the beard again. Scarcely breathing, he explored the shell of an ear, then ventured higher, to the thick base of one antler. The creature made a small, startled sound and Martin stopped, blushing hard.
He would have pulled back, but the next noise the creature made was low, a hum Martin felt wherever they touched. Then the creature turned its head toward him, bowing its neck as if in invitation for Martin to go on.
If the creature was there for Martin’s soul or to harm him, it could have done anything while Martin slept. It could have tempted him now with more than a simple shudder and placing itself in Martin’s hands.
Martin exhaled roughly as he traced the outline of a handsome face. He did not know if many in town would account a forest spirit handsome, if antlers and size and magic would put them off, or make them pretend to be put off. But the creature was undeniably strong and warm, with a curl to its hair and a wild scent that brought more heat to Martin’s cheeks. He’d had his share of tumbles in the woods just outside of town, and the traces of moss and bark in the air, or the creature’s bared body, had him remembering things he should not.
“You’re incredible,” Martin murmured, a sad fool, and the creature grunted before placing a hand beneath Martin’s chin. It was a five-fingered hand, almost human, except so much larger than Martin’s own. Martin’s face was gently tipped up and inspected while the creature used its other hand to pet through Martin’s short hair.
Maybe it thought humans greeted each other this way. But Martin couldn’t help a shiver and the immediate, almost embarrassing lick of arousal in his middle. The way the creature gave his hair a curious tug made him groan before he could control himself. He might have felt shame at being so desperate, but the creature was breathing harder, and something in Martin liked that sound very much.
“Is this your tree?” Martin whispered with the creature’s heart pounding beneath his palm. “Are you the only one in these woods? Have you watched me all this time?” Watched Martin stumble and cry and smile at nothing. Yet it was here,stillwatching Martin. “Did you like the cake?” Martin asked next, flushed hot. He splayed his fingers, and because he was odd, and lonely, and the creature was handsome, Martin considered what might be between the creature’s legs and if he would be permitted to touch. “I’m wrong, you see,” he explained to a creature that might not even understand him. “No one else wants me.”
A thick thumb pressed to Martin’s lower lip, tasting of salt and soil when Martin darted out his tongue.
“I would have you,” said the creature in a deep, inhuman voice.
Martin shut his eyes and shook at the feel of those hands in his hair and those slow, carefully spoken words. He opened his eyes again so that he could push himself up to attempt a kiss, a bold act that left him dazed. The creature’s mouth tasted of spring water and its every touch was hot. It moved its hands down to hold Martin tight and did not object to Martin’s kisses, though it seemed uncertain of how to kiss back. At least, how to kiss back on Martin’s mouth. It was swift to kiss him elsewhere, complaining with another grunt when Martin shifted away, and then fiercely kissing the skin Martin bared by removing his shirt.
Warmed all over, Martin dared to reach between its legs, but found himself pushed back. He had only a moment to despair that he was not even wanted here, and then the creature was in front of him, hands on Martin’s legs. It did not seem to know how to open Martin’s trousers, so Martin did it for him, clumsy but smiling when he was graced with more human words.
“I would have you,” the creature said again, soft hair falling in waves over Martin’s bared skin, its breath damp.
“Please,” Martin begged. Humans and dragons did not want him, but this creature did, and it was beautiful and big, and though Martin should have been scared, he was not. He went onto his back easily enough, shivering for the scrape of the creature’s teeth over his skin and bruising kisses down his throat as the creature settled over him.
A wise person might worry over being had in the cold woods with nothing to aid the taking. Martin only mourned in his heart that this rough possession did not happen, although his regret was fleeting. He could not be sad with muscled shoulders beneath his palms and the creature impatiently pulling Martin’s boots and trousers away so that Martin was naked beneath him.
The creature held Martin’s hips in its huge hands and took Martin’s cock into its mouth, and any animals hiding in the dark around the tree probably scattered at the sounds Martin made.
The creature’s satisfied hum shivered through his blood. Its tongue was wet and pleasant, its hands firm enough to leave impressions for Martin to press later while bringing himself off.
Martin groaned at the sharpness of the pleasure and curved his fingers around thick antlers. He stroked them, reveling in the hard-soft texture before he buried his hands in loose, thick curls and let the creature have its way.
MARTIN DRIFTED AGAIN after finishing in the creature’s mouth, after experiencing the damp earth at his back and the slide of the creature’s heavy cock against his skin. He stayed awake long enough to hold the creature still so he could give it long, lazy kisses, and then he fell asleep with his head on its shoulder once again.
He would have said he dreamed that, too, except for the places that stung from love-bites, and the moss in his hair, and the dried mess on his stomach just above the marks of large fingers at his hips.
The doe sat across the clearing in a patch of sunlight, gazing at Martin as he shambled to the stream to turn his head this way and that and consider his reflection.
He looked like a man who had been with a lover, who had spent the night with that lover, which was different enough to make Martin flush hot.
