2. The Game

Chapter two

The Game

I run blindly, instinct driving me forward, my body screaming in protest at the biting wind on my naked skin. I don’t bother with the empty patch of paved road, heading into the trees instead. Dimly, I’m grateful for my shoes.

It isn’t long before he catches me. He wraps one arm around my waist and rolls with me to the ground, laughing. Panic grips me. I kick and scream like a madwoman, forgetting the pact that I made, and forgetting the five million dollars.

None of that matters now except the fight.

He laughs louder and rolls until he’s on top of me, pinning my limbs to the ground on the cold forest floor. His grip isn’t painful, but small rocks and hard ground dig in underneath me, and I squirm in his grasp, screaming into the night air. But of course, nobody can hear me here. He laughs again, and his golden eyes glow in the darkness.

He’s not human. But his expression puts my panic on pause. He looks… happy. Joyous, rather than angry or frightening. And there’s no ferocity in his expression, only delight and a raw, sexual hunger. But perhaps that’s what all monsters look like before they eat their prey.

He pauses, looking at me. “Thank you for the game, my sacrifice,” he says. “And now, I shall claim my reward - your pleasure.” My heart is still pounding from the run, and it leaps at his words, but he’s not as terrifying as he was a few moments ago. And pleasure doesn’t sound too bad.

He lets my arms go abruptly and drags my legs apart, plunging his head to feast on the dripping wetness at my sex before I have time to process what’s happening.

His tongue on my clitoris is a shock, but my body overrides my mind as waves of bliss block out the hard ground. His enormous tongue is everything it promised it would be from his earlier kisses. Pleasure reverberates through me, melting the cold away. Soon I’m screaming for another reason, an orgasm ripping through my body with an intensity that shocks me.

I’m left panting, eyes wide, looking at the mad monster who’s just given me the best orgasm of my life. The wind cuts through the trees and I shiver, realizing how naked I am on this chilly night. He’s grinning in satisfaction, his smug expression so human, my remaining fear dissipates.

“Who are you?” I ask, wrapping my arms around my shoulders as he crawls up my body.

He kisses me. I close my eyes. His body is deliciously warm and with his muscular arms around me, I can forget that his head is not human. I sink into his kiss. When he pulls back, it’s easier to meet his golden gaze.

“Answers when you are warm,” he says, and scoops me up into his arms.

Back in the cabin, I sit on a couch by the fire, processing, with a cup of tea in my hand and a blanket wrapped around me. Aries stretches on the floor on top of another blanket he took from one of the bedrooms. He’s made himself a picnic, with a bottle of red wine he found in the kitchen and a bowl of fruit. He’s naked and… wild. It jars with the modern room. He was definitely in his element in the woods outside.

I guess that makes sense, if any of this does.

He’s told me who he is - Aries of the zodiac, who comes down to take a virgin as tribute once every two hundred years. “But none so magnificent as you,” he says with a wink.

“You’re paying me. There’s no need for flattery,” I say dryly. He says his bodily fluids affect humans. Calms us. Maybe that’s why I’m so comfortable with him now. Or maybe it’s because of that mind-blowing orgasm he gave me outside.

“You’re being adequately honored with wealth as sacrifice to the gods, by those who still believe,” he says. “But you too, should be honored. You were chosen out of all who applied.”

I brush off the flattery. “And after this, you return to the stars?” I ask.

“I exist at the whim of humans. My sentience is only a temporary gift to receive your sacrifice.” He stretches back, enjoying the fire and dangling grapes into his mouth. “And enjoy the pleasures of this land.”

I stare at him. And his cock. It’s huge, currently at rest, and he’s very comfortable with it being out and about.

He’s… a lot. My fingers itch to draw him. These days I only illustrate fashion designs, but when I was younger, I’d draw anything I saw, especially people. And he’s something else.

The way the fur of his legs blends into his waist is fascinating. His muscles are so pronounced they’d give any bodybuilder envy, and the way his face animates in such a human way is unreal. He’s a cartoon come to life.

And I find my gaze drawn back to his cock again and again.

He strokes a hand along his cock, a smirk on his face. “I enjoyed the pleasures with you, my sacrifice. Although I wish you would go back to calling me Lord.”

I huff a laugh. “You’re not like any man I’ve met before,” I say in wonder. “Not just because of the…” I gesture to his body, hands waving wildly, and he smiles indulgently. “You’re just…” My hands wave to his picnic. “You’re just enjoying yourself with fruit and wine and a fireplace. Despite paying me for tonight, you seem happy to just chat.”

“I would love to do more than chat,” he says playfully. “But I prefer my women to enjoy their time with me. And I sense you needed time to process. When you are ready, we can proceed.” He drinks from his wine again and keeps stroking his quickly hardening cock. “In the meantime, I shall only have this hand for company. A tragic state of affairs, given I have such a short time on this earth.” He rolls onto his back and sighs, shutting his eyes. One lid opens again to twinkle at me.

I can’t help but cough a laugh. He’s absurd. And insanely… hot. Despite the inhuman head. He’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. The muscular arms and chest, his sheer size, and the raw masculinity of him. Now he’s giving me space to breathe, I couldn’t imagine being trapped in a cabin with a sexier creature. And from what I’ve seen, he’s funny, and patient, and gives amazing head.

If I wasn’t being paid five million dollars to sleep with him, I’d want to do it, anyway. He’s intriguing in a way that cuts through my cynicism. It’s not a safe headspace to be in as a hired sex worker, but his strangeness disarms me. Despite myself, I want to know more.

“I’m not flattered you chose me,” I say, confident that his ego can handle the blow. “I assume you picked me because you like young blondes.”

He drops his cock, props himself up on one elbow and picks up his wine again. Then he looks at me - a shrewd look that cuts directly to my eyes. “Many beautiful women applied, and many were young and blonde,” he says. “But they were not you.”

My skin tingles under his inspection. Yup, he’s hot. I raise a cynical eyebrow, not letting it show. “Do I remind you of an ex-lover, then? Or the girl who got away?” I’ve heard it all and shouldn’t be affected. He might be a god, but I’ve met plenty of men who thought they were god’s gift.

He sips from his glass before he speaks. “You remind me of myself. And what could be more glorious than that?” He waves the glass wide to emphasize his glory.

I laugh. “I can’t say I see the resemblance.”

He swirls his wine, his gaze never leaving mine. “You are like me because you wish to be first in all things. That is why I chose you. There is greatness inside you, and I deserve no less.”

His gaze hasn’t strayed from mine. “It was an honor to taste you.”

I stare at him and something curls low in my belly. If he’s lying to seduce me, he’s doing an amazing job. I’ve always been ambitious - I can feel my ambition burning like a frustrated fire in my chest. But I’ve never really had a chance to make something of myself and prove to the world I’m more than just a pretty face. It reminds me that tonight is that chance - this god is that chance.

I finally swallow and avert my gaze… down to the taut muscles of his chest, covered in a light dusting of brown hair, and his growing erection. My mouth is suddenly dry. I couldn’t imagine a creature more deserving of my virginity.

“My Lord…” I say, my words croaky. My gaze flies back up to his, and I see his lips curl into a smile. I clear my throat. “May I taste you in return?” I ask.

He beams. “Of course you may, my sacrifice.”