Selena Kitt - Beauty

Instead she climaxed, her heels digging into the small of his back, her nails raking his shoulders-he was grateful then he’d never taken off his shirt-and he felt every sweet flutter of her pussy around his length as he ground his hips and sent her flying. Jolee gasped out his name, begging him for more, begging him to stop, but he couldn’t hear her, not really. He grabbed her hips, her ass, driving in as deep as he could, bottoming out with every thrust, making her squeak delightfully in his ear.

His cock swelled to bursting and then it did, boiling up from base to tip, erupting into the slick, hot sheath of her pussy. Jolee made a low noise in her throat as he exploded, almost a purr, sending shivers down his spine as her muscles consciously milked him. He continued to thrust, lost in the frenzied furor of his climax, as if he could empty himself completely into her and be utterly spent.

“Silas,” she whispered, kissing his throat, the air blessedly cool on his neck and chin and jaw. Her lips caressed him, little feathered kisses, moving back from his jaw to his ear, murmuring words he was sure were in English, but he couldn’t understand them at all. His mind was blank, his body verging on the edge of collapse, weak and helpless in her arms. She tugged gently at his mask and he would have let her then without a second thought. He was hers completely.

They both startled when someone knocked on the front door.

“Carlos,” Jolee hissed, looking around for something to cover up with, and of course there were only her panties.

As senseless as he had been a minute before, Silas snapped into action, zipping his pants with one hand and reaching behind him with the other, grabbing the shotgun off the wall. He didn’t think it was his brother, but you could never be too careful. Very few people knew about this cabin or its hidden location. The three knocks he’d had on his door in as many years had all been lost strangers looking for a way home.

“Bedroom,” Silas whispered, nodding, but Jolee was already scrambling down the hallway. He didn’t like her out of his sight, but he couldn’t keep her behind him unclothed either.

His heart sank when he opened the door.

“There’s trouble.”

Silas looked at the old man, eyes dark and sunk into his leathered face, mouth downturned, and nodded. At least it wasn’t his brother.

“Let me get my boots on. I’ll meet you out back.”

The old native gave him a nod and Silas shut the door, wondering just how he was going to explain this to Jolee.

* * * *

Everything melted, and Jolee melted with it. She tried to stay mad at Silas, for refusing to tell her anything, for leaving her alone in the cabin for stretches of time, but she couldn’t stay mad at him long once he was home. She would melt and creep down the hall to his room, her breath held like a secret, and he would open up to her, the two of them free in the darkness to wallow in the blissful heat of one another.

And it went on like that, Silas masked in the daytime, quiet, often gone, but both of them unmasked and unclothed at night. It went on until the snow ran in rivers down the hillside and the leaves began to bud on the trees and then open and the forest around them teemed with life again. She knew it was fully spring when she saw a female deer and her fawn at the edge of the clearing while she was on her way to milk Anna in the hazy, early light of morning.

That, and the roses began to bloom.

She watched them open outside her bedroom window, growing up the trellis against the side of the house, a red carpet of flowers. Silas smiled when she exclaimed over them and started leaving one for her on occasion-on her pillow, or in a vase, or put across her latest knitting project, a budding reminder. She pressed them between thick books-heavy tomes about tracking and wildlife and growing mushrooms in the wild-and saved them in a dresser drawer, wanting to keep every part of Silas that he gave to her.

Yes, the world had melted and she with it, but it was the conversation she overheard outside her window that froze her again, breaking the spell, raising her hackles and making her curious once more. She had left the window wide open, letting the breeze blow in, and she was supposed to be napping-Silas still insisted and lately she’d actually been tired enough to sleep-when she heard their voices, low but clear enough.

“It’s not your decision, Abe." Silas was angry-she knew what he sounded like when he was angry.

“There are other ways.”

The old Indian had come around several more times and Silas had gone off with him. He wouldn’t tell her, of course, what any of it was about. Jolee crept to the window to listen, ducking low so they wouldn’t see her.

“You don’t need to sacrifice yourself for this cause.” Abe sounded sad, not angry or pleading.

“I’ll decide what I need and what I don’t need.”

The old man sighed. “You can’t wake someone pretending to be asleep.”

“What does that mean?” Now Silas sounded really mad.

The old man countered with something even more cryptic. “Love beyond your fear.” Silas snorted. “Did you consult some Native American sayings handbook before you showed up today?”

Abe laughed. “Don’t sacrifice yourself, friend," he said again. “The world needs more men like you, not less.”

“I got work to do.”

“We’re going to the community board meeting next week," Abe called.

Silas's voice sounded further away. “I’m sure you’ll get a lot done with the bureaucrats.

In the meantime, I’ll do it my way.”

Jolee chanced a peek over the windowsill, seeing Silas heading off into the woods down a trail. The old Indian watched him go for a moment and then headed the other way.

She made a quick decision, running to the back door and pulling on her boots. She followed him as quietly as she could. Silas wasn't the only one who could track. Her father had taught her to shoot and hunt, how to track a deer for miles. Even when she lost sight of Silas in the distance, she knew the signs to look for on the soft ground, through the brush.

He walked a long time, going through parts of the forest that hadn't been cleared at all.

She hopped logs, ducked under hanging branches. She was so focused on marking her way back and looking for signs of Silas's direction, she was startled when the forest opened up into a clearing.

She stopped, seeing Silas standing too, still, head down, in the middle of what was left of a house that had been ravaged by fire. He stood a long time amidst the charred remains, so long that she almost called out, went to him.

Then he went to his knees and made a noise that scared her so much she couldn't even think about moving. It started low, a keening wail, that grew into an intense, primal scream of rage so deafening she could have sworn the trees shook. Startled birds flew out of their nests, rabbits bolted, and Jolee stared, watching, terrified, as Silas began to sob.

I shouldn't be here. That was her first thought-to walk away and leave him here alone with his sorrow. Then she thought she should go to him, offer comfort, but how? The man didn't share much under normal circumstances. Why did she think he would in such a vulnerable state?

She imagined him pushing her away, telling her to go home, and couldn’t bring herself to risk the rejection. After following him for over two hours, she was just going to turn around and go home and leave him to his secret pain.

She stood, undecided, until Silas got slowly, heavily to his feet, rubbing his masked face on his shirtsleeves. He drew a few, deep, shuddering breaths and she thought she’d never seen anything so sad, the way his shoulders slumped and his arms hung at his side.