Midsummer Bride Pt. 01

Miranda tried to sleep. She tossed and turned. She kept the iron poker right beside the bed. She felt safer with it. Miranda closed her eyes breathing deep. She opened them again and took in the quaint guest room.

It reminded her of an interior design magazine featuring country living with cute white gardenia on yellow paper walls, a vanity mirror atop a dark oak dresser. The closet was matching wood along with the bed post. They looked antique.

Miranda looked at the baby blue quilt with it's flower and bird patterns. Song birds nesting in blossoming trees of white flowers. She traced the design with her finger, counting the birds and flowers. Sleep was creeping into her limbs, her lungs, her brain, her eyes as she counted and outlined the birds.

With one last deep breath Miranda drifted off to dream land. In her dreams she found herself not in Harper's guest bedroom but something like a palace made of trees. The bed she was on didn't have the blue quilt but red silk sheets.

Miranda looked down to see she was wearing a sheer night gown. Every time she moved the fabric grazed her nipples making them pucker like hardened erasers. It sent a slight pleasurable tingle through her body.

The room was familiar. Above there were glowing golden lanterns. Upon closer inspection Miranda saw that the lights weren't flames but... insects? Insects with human limbs... and dragonfly wings. Fairies? Miranda suddenly realized where she was. Panic rose in her chest stopping her heart then she fell backwards onto the bed. A man pinned her there.

"Miranda...," the voice was deep, dripping with lust making Miranda's insides quiver and her pussy weep. Miranda looked up to see a young human man with lean muscles, anglo-saxon features like American male models with big electric blue eyes and golden hair. He had a beard that accentuated his wolfish smile.

"Thought you could escape me, Miranda?" he said.

"I did," Miranda insisted though right now all she wanted to do was to open her legs and let this stranger come inside her.

"I marked you," the man spoke softly. He bent over then pressed his soft lips on Miranda's branded wrist that burned at his touch. Miranda squirmed trying to free herself but this man was much stronger than her.

"Once you've been marked you can never leave me," he whispered as he pressed his lips to hers. Miranda's loins became soaked with arousal tasting his lips. Her body was ready to yield.

"Who are you?" Miranda asked. The man smiled, his electric blue eyes shining.

"You'll remember soon," he said. "I'll make you remember."

He kissed her again and Miranda gave in. Their bodies formed to each other as their kiss deepened. His tongue sensually searching her mouth for her tongue to join in an erotic dance. Miranda felt his maleness, hard and hot against her throbbing sex. Then the whispers started. She didn't understand them until she opened her eyes again.

Miranda looked up to see that her mystery lover had changed. His fair skin became dark blue with a glittering bluish hue, his nose like an animal's, a cat-like snout with a flat nose and sharp fangs. He had two stag horns growing out of his head. His muscles were lean. His eyes went from human blue to a pitch black. Miranda saw herself in them. The fear choked the scream from her throat as she saw her lover in his true form.

His claws dug into her fair freckled human flesh. Miranda winced at the pain. She tried to move but the creature had her pinned down. She could feel his raging cock at the entrance of her femininity. The creature let out a satisfied growl as he penetrated her. Miranda contorted and writhed underneath the beast that held her down.

But his cock... It was like having a hot iron brand inside of her, it pulsated within her making her whimper. He moved in and out and Miranda found her voice again but it wasn't a cry for help. It was pleasing moan.

Miranda was lost for a moment. The beast's rolling hips, his pumps, his throbbing cock penetrating deeper into her most sensitive flesh, her molten need. She found herself bucking her hips to get the creature deeper inside her. She surprised her ears by moaning and groaning in ecstasy. Miranda gasped as she came. She opened her eyes to find herself back in Harper's guest bedroom.

Miranda's heart hammered in her chest, her eyes looking around wild. She gripped the iron rod, holding it closer to her breast. The horned circle burned her flesh again.

"Oberon...," she whispered a pall of dread hung over her. Her body was feeling a whirlwind of lust and terror. Some of it came back to her. Why she was taken. Why she ran away...

***

Harper rolled over asleep. He was never a light sleeper though. When he heard a slight creak in the floor boards he opened his eyes to see Miranda, green eyes full of fear, clutching an iron poker. His police instincts told him that she may have come in here to murder him for some reason but his human instincts told him that she wouldn't do such a thing.

"So that's where my iron poker went," Harper spoke without surprise. "What do you plan to do with that?"

He knew? Of course he knew she took it. He wouldn't be a good detective if he didn't pay attention to detail.

"Given what you've been through I don't blame you for wanting to protect yourself," Harper propped himself up, shrugging casually.

"Sorry...," Miranda's voice was weak as she placed the iron poker aside. "I took it just in case..." She averted her eyes a moment, moving her dark hair behind her ear.

"Can I... Can I sleep in here with you just for the night?" Miranda finally asked. "Nightmares."

Harper should have said no. His brother-in-law gave him a book of Penthouse Letters as a joke gift. One story popped up in his mind about a woman asking to share the bed with her host during a thunder storm because she was terrified of thunder. One thing led to another and...

"Sure...," Harper nodded. He moved over as Miranda climbed in. He'll wait until she falls asleep then move. Miranda took Harper's strong arm and wrapped it around herself. Her arse pressed right up against his groin, his cock twitched at the sudden firm warmth. Hopefully Harper wouldn't get an erection to bruise this girl's tail bone.

The scent of her hair wafted into Harper's nostrils. Men's soap tempered with smells of the forest: wet moss, earth, oak trees. The wild and the domestic swirled into one filling his lungs. His maleness hardened.

"I remembered something...," Miranda whispered. "About the one who kidnapped me."

"What did you remember?" he whispered back trying to move his lower body away from Miranda's backside.

"His name," she said though she still sounded unsure. "He called himself Oberon."

***