Chapter Seven: Martin

One day before they were all scheduled to breach the location on the Beaver Moon, several professors went to test out the summoning spell.

But not him. He was still enchanted, they said and might end up feeling an overwhelming urge to enter the water prematurely. That was fair, though it made his skin itch to imagine them stepping into the woodland outside Oakwend, testing if the fae realm would be unveiled before them.

Instead of hurtling into the woods, he waited by the edge of Oakwend for a special guest to appear. Sunday meant the villagers would be at the church, while some of the farmers focused on concocting Sunday lunches and dinners for guests and relatives.

Willow arrived, looking radiant and beautiful, and he watched her approach, drinking in every facet of her, from her warm brown hair and eyes, lovely smile, the neat black jacket she wore with its puffy fur lining the hood, the high boots, and jeans that seemed to disappear into the boots – everything was immaculate. But not only her looks attracted him. He truly wanted to spend time with her beyond the arrangement brokered by the professors and the people they planned to take on the mission with them.

He patted down his jacket and combed his fingers through his hair, hoping he didn't look a fright.

"Preening yourself already?" she asked, grinning as she went in for a hug. He enveloped her in his arms, and her hair tickled his nose as she leaned against him. "You look great, in case you were worried."

He hugged her a little tighter. "Thank you. I was hoping we'd get some time to spend with each other before everything goes to hell."

"Assuming that our theory about the fae realm is correct. For all we know, it won't work, and we'll be chilling here for longer." She let go of him. "So, you said you wanted to show me around? I've never been to the village before. It's a little small and out of the way for us students."

"True, the village doesn't have much going for it – but you've got to check out Bessie's Watermill Surprise." He beckoned for her to follow. They crossed a small bridge over a tiny stream, which led to an old, converted watermill perched astride the water, with a water wheel on either side and the more traditional sails of a windmill spread out in front. A large willow tree hung over one of the wheels. Inside was a restaurant with a menu of sandwiches, meat pies, and baked goods, including a lovely frothy coffee that Martin said was the best in the village. Of course, there was only one other place in the village that served food, and it was a bar.

The proprietor, wearing an apron with the name Bessie embroidered on it but with a nametag that said Eliza, happily herded them over to a corner so that they could order from the menu and grab some coffee while waiting.

"Quaint," Willow said, "and there's even a willow tree."

"Only the best for you," he said with an exaggerated bow. "It's not crowded at this time of day because most of the people in the village are at church or cooking Sunday dinner. It closes at two, so we're in the sweet spot."

Eliza, who looked like she was in her sixties, smiled and asked what they'd like to have. They ordered sandwiches and coffee, which Eliza quickly brought them and which they took to a table to drink while they waited for their food.

"I missed you while you were away practicing," he said as they sipped their coffees. "I was also worried we wouldn't get to see each other before attempting the summon spell."

"We'll have plenty of time afterward," Willow said, smiling and stretching out a hand toward him. He grasped it softly, thumb rubbing against the top of her hand.

"I hope so, but I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. The last time I visited, it wasn't… great."

Her eyes clouded over in understanding. "Right. Of course. It would be tough for you, for sure. Here's hoping it'll all work out. It should be fine. We're bringing a very capable army this time."

"True." He relaxed and smiled at Eliza as she brought their sandwiches.

Willow dug right in, and he watched her eat, sometimes making eye contact with her, sometimes lingering a littlelonger than he should. It was like they were playing a waiting game, seeing who would be the one to make the first move.

He liked the color of her eyes and the way her hair framed her face. In fact, he liked everything about her.

Once lunch was over, he took Willow on a walk to one of his favorite places: a stream that curved around a bend to a huge stick-wedged dam that turned the stream into a trickle.

"Is that a beaver's nest?"

"Yep. We have a family of beavers that live in the area. You'd be surprised how useful they are. Because of their hard work, we get flooded less, and the crops get better irrigation. Even one dam can make an enormous difference."

She smiled but let out a squeal when one of the beavers popped out, curious. "Oh, my goodness! Look at that cute little thing!"

"They're used to us. We feed them," he said, taking a fishy cat treat out of his pocket for the beaver. He tossed it onto the bank, and the beaver scurried to gobble it up.

Willow's happy, enamored expression made Martin fall for her a little more. Not completely, of course – but enough for him to want to draw her close, to hug her, to kiss her hair and feel the warmth of her skin against his. His mind wrestled for a moment, torn between doing exactly that and wanting to be polite and giving her adequate space.

She turned and gave him a quick, excited hug, much to his astonishment. He barely had any time to react before she let go. He remained frozen in place as she did a little dance on the spot.

"Can I feed the beaver, too? Can I?"

"Uh, sure," he said and popped out another treat for her to toss. The beaver went for this one as well, and Willow cheered, making Martin grateful he'd decided to bring her there.

They walked farther up the stream, where there was another beaver dam and another beaver. They fed that one, too.

As they watched the second beaver gulp down some treats, Willow said, "I forget, sometimes, how beautiful nature can be. And it's wonderful to see humans and creatures living happily side by side. It feels right, you know? This is how life should be. Living in peace. Maybe when I graduate, I'll get a farm somewhere and have lots of animals or something to do with animals."

"Maybe I can join you with the farm. It sounds like a great escape." He smiled, and she paused, her eyes locked on his.

"I wouldn't mind you tagging along. I'm sure you'd be a hard worker. And then there are other things, too…"

"Other things? Like what?" He smirked, wondering what was going through her mind at that moment.

She moved closer, still gazing into his eyes, and in that second, he instantly knew what she wanted, and without hesitation, he took her in his arms. They stayed away, staring, hovering on the precipice of desire before their lips crashed together.

Everything within him went crazy, electrified by the contact. He pulled her closer, his hands on her hips, their bodies pressed together. The kiss lasted longer than expected, but neither did he particularly want to break away, not after they'd finally found the courage to act.

Willow pulled away, gasping, her dark eyes wide, pupils blown in a way that made him shiver.

I did that.

"You…you're not a bad kisser."

Trying to play it cool, rather than admit how weak his knees felt right now, he put his hands against her shoulder blades. "You're not too bad yourself."

"Perhaps… we should try again? Just to be sure."

"I'm okay with that." He leaned down to kiss her again, closing his eyes and losing himself in the contact. It felt as if electricity sparked at every nerve ending, every part of his body that came in contact with hers; a tantalizing sensation that built up by the second, sending pleasant shivers down his neck, leaving him breathless with a warmth in his chest and limbs.

It also stirred something else, which caused her to break away with an embarrassed but pleased laugh. "Oh, you're, uh, growing."

"Sorry." He didn't feel ashamed, but he did move away to make sure she didn't have to see. "Just give me a moment, and I'll cool down."

"I didn't think I'd get that kind of reaction so fast."

"Everything about that was very nice," he retorted, grinning. "But I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Are your parents home right now?" she asked, her expression suspiciously innocent.

"No, why?"

"Would it be okay for us to… go there? Unless they're going to be back soon, of course."

"They won't be back for a few hours yet. Neither will my sister." Was she implying what he thought she was implying?

He didn't want to say it out loud, in case it sounded foolish or was too far off from her intentions.

He led the way to his house, excited, nervous, and struggling not to get too excited again. Every time he tried to banish the thought from his mind; however, it insisted on coming back, more powerful and intense than before.

Willow could've commented, could've chosen to tease him, but instead, she remained silent and smiling, and he loved her a little for that.

Inside the house, the first thing he wanted to do was offer her tea or coffee like any normal guest of the house.

Willow didn't have the patience for that. She tugged at his hand, demanded to know where the bedroom was, and dragged him to it.

"Willow, are you sure? We don't have to rush into things if you don't –" His words were cut off by her lips once more. She grabbed hold of him hard, their bodies latching together as if glued. He gasped at the attack, staggered backward, and the back of his legs bumped into the bedframe, and he sat down hard. She straddled him, and having her legs on either side of him made his hands tremble, and the ache between his legs increase.

His pulse pounded faster, echoing in his ears, and it felt as if his heart thumped against his ribcage, looking for a way out.

"I don't know why," she whispered against his lips, "but it really turns me on to know I have that effect on you."

Holy crap.

Yeah, he couldn't hold it back anymore. With her positioned on his lap, there was no way she didn't feel him hardening. "Willow," he growled, half wanting to calm her down, half wondering if everything he did affected her. When she let out a moan, he repeated her name, and she tilted her head back, giving him full access to her chest.

He didn't want to go straight there, however. No. He wanted to cherish, to savor everything, and he tilted her neck toward his mouth so his breath danced a fiery trail over the delicate skin.

Desire whipped like a whirlwind around them, stripping away all sense of reason and good, calm words. Just the heat of the moment mattered, the momentum of the pleasure and arousal, and their hands clumsily went to one another's clothes. Willow ground against him with a small whimper that ignited his brain, and it flipped a primal switch within him.

An aspect of the predator took over as he stood up, flipped her onto the bed, and crawled over her. Staking his claim. He sniffed at her neck and nipped at her ear before licking and sucking at the pulse point on her neck, galvanized by the sounds she made, the gasps and moans, and sobbing whimpers.

He moved his hips as well back and forth, and her legs wrapped around him, seeking even closer contact.

Holy crap!

"Willow," he gasped, pushing up so that his arms were `straight at her side. "Wait, hang on. This is going fast. We can slow down if you want. There's really no rush."

"I want you," she said, and the words stabbed deep, hitting the beast within that wanted nothing more than to claim her and make her his.

It seemed the condoms might be needed, after all.

Jesus! I didn't expect her to be so eager!

Not that he was complaining. It was just… a part of him thought men wanted this more than women did.

How wrong was that thinking? They tore at their clothes, ridding each other of every last scrap, not caring where exactly they flung them.

"Please," she whimpered when they were fully naked. Her hands ran over him, from chin to chest, gliding over his own nipples, down to briefly touch his hardness.

"A moment," he assured her, reaching over for the condoms. "If you can't wait, touch yourself."

She seemed to enjoy the instruction, already using her own hands now to glide over her breasts, down between her thighs, and he growled quietly to witness the decadent act.

"Already so wet…" With the condom on, he wasted little time in positioning himself, though he let her continue to self-pleasure, just watching it with hunger and lust.

"Please," she whimpered once again, and he took that as an invitation. Sliding inside her unlocked a whole new avalanche of pleasure, of watching how her body stiffened before accepting him, how her hands gripped him tightly, and their eyes locked together and stayed that way as he began to move.

The warmth radiated all along his length, and he ached all around, feeling the pressure building and building, the heat intensifying. She gasped and writhed beneath him, barely able to string coherent words together, nails digging into his back hard enough to leave marks.

Sweat coated his forehead and skin as he worked hard, intent on driving them both to a pleasant destination, but without slowing down to do so. He eased himself out of her when he felt he was close, now using fingers to stroke her on her most sensitive part once he located it in the slick wetness. Her moans grew louder, her mouth opened, her head tilted back, and her legs began to shake.

Her body arched beneath him, still shaking, and he resumed the thrusts, taking them both together into climax, letting that sweet warmth and ecstasy swamp over. He envied her being a woman in that sensation, as it seemed to affect her entire body and leave her bereft of the ability to speak.

Her breathing slowed, and her body undulated, relaxing after all that built-up tension. He relaxed with her, stroking her hair, pulling out of her when he began to soften.

"Willow," was all he said, all he needed to say.

"Martin," she replied huskily, and he inhaled deeply. He wouldn't mind hearing her repeat his name like that over and over again.