38. Chapter 38

Chapter thirty-eight

I t’s getting dark already. Winter days are so short, but that’s not all bad. It means we will have to make camp soon. Long before we are knackered. Which means we get to lounge around by a fire enjoying each other’s company. Just me and Mabon, no one else.

And then there will still be energy left for naughty stuff. Though, I highly suspect that Mabon will always have energy for naughty stuff.

A smirk spreads across my face. I really hope Mabon doesn’t look back at me right now. But I think I’m safe. He is walking along quite happily, humming a tune to himself.

My fingers once again tighten around the small paper bag in my pocket. I can’t wait to give it to him, but I’m also terrified he won’t like my gift. The conflicting feelings are making me feel giddy.

Buying it in the first place was nerve-wracking enough. I’d been an anxious mess at having to walk through a small town. Then realisation had slowly dawned on me. Mabon and I have been walking cross country for days now, and sleeping rough. We are unkempt, tatty and muddy. Add in our rucksacks and the fact that we smell of wood smoke, and we appear homeless.

And nobody sees homeless people. Their eyes slide off of them in aversion. Their minds clock the scruffy clothes, and then never look at the faces. Mabon and I have become invisible.

Nevertheless, leaving him sitting on a bench while I darted into a shop to get water and beans is still something I hope to never have to do again. Even though it went without a hitch. And I was right about it being far quicker without him.

The real excitement was when I stepped out of the Tesco and saw it. A shop loved by teenage girls because its shelves groan with cheap accessories. Colourful tights, gaudy necklaces, bracelets and earrings. And an overwhelming amount of things for hair.

Suddenly, the bag rustles extra loudly in my pocket, announcing its presence. I wince, but Mabon doesn’t seem to hear it. He continues to walk blithely along, and I puff out a silent breath of relief.

He points suddenly to somewhere over towards our right. “That looks like a good spot to camp.”

An ancient ruined house is standing amongst a collection of weeds. Stone walls stretch up to the sky. Dark and brooding against the sunset colours. The roof is nothing more than a memory.

“Looks promising,” I say.

He flashes me a smile and we head over to the crumbling ruins.

Inside the four walls, the ground is dry and mostly free of weeds. The air is motionless and free from the chill of the wind. There are no trees to offend with our fire. It is a good spot.

“Perfect,” I say.

Mabon nods his agreement and we get to work. We’ve developed a little routine. He collects wood for a fire. I put up the tent. I love that we work so well together. It is seamless, with no need for words. We just fit like that.

As I unroll the sleeping bags, an idea strikes me. The ground is rocky and crumbly but bone dry. I can spread the sleeping bags out around the fire and we’ll have something semi-comfortable to sit on without making our bedding soggy.

I quickly carry out my plan. Then I step back to admire my handiwork. It looks good. Almost cosy.

Mabon gives me a soft smile of approval as he finishes laying the fire. Then he clicks his fingers and the flames roar to life. Casting the old ruins in a flickering orange glow that matches the sky above.

Mabon settles cross-legged onto one of the sleeping bags. Then he glances up at me with a questioning look because I’m standing here dithering.

“I…um…I couldn’t find hair pins, but they had these long thin hair clips and I got the most sparkly ones they had and I thought you could teach me how to do your hair properly.”

I fumble as I pull the small paper bag out of my pocket. I pull out one of the hair clips and hold it up for him to inspect.

Now it is time to be brave and look at him to see what his reaction is. Deep breath. Hold it in. Look up.

Oh my. Is he really blinking tears away?

Suddenly, he jumps to his feet and flings himself at me. His arms wrap around my back and he squishes the life out of me. Damn he is strong.

“Jamie taught me about hugs!” he exclaims proudly.

He releases me, and I suck in a much needed gasp of oxygen. But there is no time to gather myself because now he is pulling me down to sit next to him.

I shyly offer him the comb I also bought, and he snatches it from my fingers with a squeal of glee. Butterflies swirl in my stomach. Mabon is pleased with my gifts.

The joy of that zones me out a little and I only half listen as he talks excitedly. But I pay full attention to what he shows me. Time drifts by as if in a dream. I never knew there were so very many ways to twist and braid hair.

I notice that he never allows me to undo all his hair. He makes me redo my attempts a thousand times, but each time he ensures I leave at least one twist in place. I will remember this in the future. Whenever I do his hair, I need to do one section at a time.

“Do this one again,” he says as he runs his fingers along one of my attempts.

It is a bit sloppy. I can see where I went wrong. I need to keep the tension even.

As my fingers pick up silky strands of his hair, my hands brush against his horns. He shudders. It’s not the first time he has done that.

I pause. “Does that feel good?”

The air between us grows heavy. Expectant. As if it is holding its breath.

“Yes,” Mabon says softly.

And just like that, my blood begins to burn. Arousal, never far from the surface these days, awakens.

Very carefully, very purposefully, I run my hand along one of his curling horns. It’s far warmer than I was expecting. And almost soft.

The sound Mabon makes is like nothing I have ever heard before. Guttural. Primal. Carnal.

I like it. A lot. It is the best noise I have ever heard. I run my hand along his horn again. This time, I swear it twitches and swells under my touch. That divine noise pours out of Mabon again.

I grin. “You like that, don’t you, Mabpie?”

He goes ramrod straight and freezes. My hands fall away from his horns.

“What did you call me?” he snaps.

Oh shit.

“Um…Mabpie. Your name and magpie, because you are like a magpie,” I explain hastily. “It’s your spirit animal thingy.”

I thought it was cute. I really didn’t mean to insult him.

“You have gifted me a name?” he whispers hoarsely.

“Yes?” I answer tentatively.

Suddenly, I’m flying backwards. Mabon has turned around and is tackling me to the ground. I land on my back with him on top of me. His lips slam over mine.

He is kissing me. Ferociously. Passionately. Hungrily.

My body responds to his, and I kiss him back with need and longing. I want to consume him. I crave him. I yearn to meld our bodies together until we exist as one being.

Distantly, I hear the rumble of thunder. We should probably move into the tent, but that seems like an insurmountable task. It would mean pulling away from Mabon. Untwining our bodies. That would be awful. Unthinkable. Even if it were only for a few moments.

I never want to be apart from him. Ever. I don’t understand how he has come to mean so much to me, but he has. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I didn’t know it was possible.

Mabon makes a soft noise that sinks into my soul. His hands go to the waistband of my jeans and he yanks them down, along with my underwear. My cock bounces free.

Another rumble of thunder rolls across the sky, followed by a flash of lightning.

Mabon continues to kiss me. My world stutters and scatters. Perception drifts. Everything is pleasure and profound joy. Images register in my mind in static bursts.

My top being pushed up to reveal my stomach and chest. My trousers being pulled further down my legs. My nipples pebbling from Mabon’s fleeting caress.

Mabon removing his clothes. Mabon pouring the last of the bath oil over my cock. Mabon getting into position over me.

My hands resting on his smooth thighs. My cock disappearing between Mabon’s legs as he slowly lowers himself onto me. My stomach muscles clenching.

Time stops and rearranges itself. It thrusts me back into the moment. Awareness encompasses me.

Euphoria floods every part of my being. Mabon is tight and hot around me and oh so soft. He feels incredible. He sinks all the way down until he has all of me.

His eyes are wide and dark. He is magnificence incarnate. He smiles down at me, showing me his dimples.

Then he rides.

Exquisite rolling movements like a belly dancer. A rocking of his hips. An undulation. A manifestation of carnality and primal bliss.

My body is on fire. He has turned me into a quivering pile of flesh and lust and desire. And it feels like heaven. As if I have ascended to a higher plane.

I look up at him in awe.

The dark night sky behind him lights up, turning him into a dark silhouette, complete with horns and glowing eyes. Raindrops are falling. Big, fat, heavy ones. Cooling against my heated skin.

His hands lift up to his hair as he continues to fuck my brains out. He pulls out one hair clip. And then another. And another. And then the very last one.

Lightning streaks across the night sky. Illuminating the dark and heavy clouds. A background of celestial fury as Mabon shakes his hair free.

All his long, glorious hair tumbles down. The soft tips of it brush over my stomach and thighs.

It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

And as dumb as I am, I understand the significance of it. It is no small thing for a fey to do. It is powerful and potent. A demonstration of trust. A thing hardly anyone ever gets to see. It is intimate and sacred and oh so special. A privilege and a blessing.

Mabon unbound his hair for me.