Through the Woods

She went limp against him, her body falling away from his maw and into his hands. Simon struggled to pull himself away. Wine reddened lips parted, flushed cheeks, and closed coal lashes, she was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on.

Wren stirred. Her thigh brushed against something warm and hard that continued all the way up to where her belly pressed as she arched her back to rid herself of the stiffness of sleep. As she once again curled in on herself, she found that one arm draped over that same warmness. A strong rough hand brushed her arm as Simon pulled her tighter against him. Wren was now fully awake but hoped that somehow she was still dreaming. She shifted her hips and felt cool sheets slide against her bare skin. Muscles stiff, she tried to collect the pieces of last night but found nothing but darkness after Simon had sat her on the counter and kissed her. The thought of that kiss sent a warm flush down her belly.

"Good morning." Groggy, but most certainly awake, Simon shifted and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Wren couldn't think of what to say. Had she been taken advantage of after she blacked out? Simon must have sensed her distress. "Don't worry, nothing happened. After you decided to hyperventilate, I brought you over here to keep an eye on you."

"An eye on me? Is that why I'm naked?" Angry now that the confusion had melted away, Wren hoped she put enough bite into her voice. Simon snorted in response and pulled her so that she was partially laying on top of him. She struggled in his tight grip.

"That was a reward for me making sure you didn't die last night." He smiled, fully prepared to take on her spite.

"Reward? You can't just treat yourself to my body as a thank you to a task I never asked of you." Pressing her hands to either side of him, Wren attempted to sit up but only managed to press her thigh against the rigidity of his morning attention. Sputtering, she attempted to mutter an apology. Working to right herself only resulted in her rubbing against the damned thing which, despite its already surprising size, continued to grow.

"I figured you wouldn't mind since you kissed me back." His tone was light and playful even as one arm kept her secure against him. The other hand slid up the back of her knee to the juncture of her thigh and cunt, gripping tight and pulling her legs apart so that his cock now sprang up against her naked sex.

"You absolute beast. What do you think you're doing?" She exclaimed as she struggled more. "I did not kiss you back and even if I did, I was drunk!"

He laughed and moved his hand up her buttocks, squeezing as he passed by, and then up her back to her neck till his hand cupped her face and forced her to look into her eyes. "Come now, you don't mean that. You seemed rather keen on being-what was the term?" He nuzzled her hair and pressed his lips against her ear, his deep voice resonating through her as he spoke. "Consumed?"

Wren's mouth opened but all protests seemed to be twisted together in her mind. Simon gladly took advantage of this and pressed his mouth to hers, once again trapping her in a searing kiss. Nails bit into his shoulders as Wren pushed away from him. His hand gripped her hair and he pressed on, plundering her mouth with his. Slowly, she yielded and then melted against him. The rigidity of her body was gone and he was left with a soft, pliable young woman atop him. His cock jumped and her hips shifted in response. Then, he pulled away.

"There. Isn't that better than fighting?" Rough thumb against her trembling lip, Simon took in her flushed face and the way her cool eyes had melted into pools of gold. Oh she was so sweet, and just how he wanted her. The moment didn't last long though, and she was able to break his weakened grip. Wren flung herself off of the bed and glared at him from the corner of his room.

"Trespasser. Harasser. Sexual deviant!" She hissed as she tried in vain to cover herself.

"Is that what you think of me?" Simon stood, proud in his nakedness, one hand pressed against his chest. "You wound me."

"Good. Let you be shot through the heart." Golden eyes darted from side to side, looking for an exit. She saw one just as Simon shifted to be in front of the open doorway.

"Dear pet, if you believe me to be such a devious person; allow me to act on your wishes." A wolfish grin spread over his face. Wren dashed for the doorway but was caught around her middle by two burly arms. With ease, Simon carried her to the bed and pressed her face-down with the weight of his body.

"Let me go!" The mumbled order came from the downy comforter before she was able to look at him over her shoulder. In the struggle, her curly locks had fallen over her face and her cheeks now burned.

"No. Never. Not if you keep teasing me by playing coy." Simon couldn't help himself and pressed his rigid cock against her plump ass. Wren whimpered and attempted to push herself deeper into the mattress to get away. He gently pushed the hair from her face and looked into her eyes, finding them a tumultuous boil of bronze, emerald, and gold.

"Why?" Her voice broke as she wrenched her face away so he wouldn't see her weakness.

He nuzzled against her neck before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh. A growl ripped through him. "Because you're mine, little bunny."

Wren gasped as her body was swiftly turned around and then flung onto the bed. With the air pushed from her lungs, she found herself unable to do anything but stare at Simon's face as he languorously lay between her legs. He shuffled forward until her thighs were bracing his hips and he was lined up with her entrance.

This time, when Simon's lips met Wren's, he was gentle. The weight of his body kept her where he wanted and she submitted to his kiss far sooner than she had before. One rough, calloused hand slid over her pert breasts, thumb grazing a pierced nipple, before slipping down the plane of her belly to the slick valley between her thighs. A gasp of protest puffed into Simon's mouth before she pulled away from him. Her eyes were shut tight as her head turned away.

"No. Look at me." Not a request, but a deep commandment as he cupped her chin with his other hand. Her eyes opened and she trembled beneath him. Goosebumps prickled along her skin as her nipples rose to taught buds. Once his eyes locked hers into place, Simon slid his middle finger into her cunt, quickly followed by his ring finger. Wren's mouth opened in a shuddering gasp as the base of his palm pressed against the tight nub of her clitoris. He pumped his fingers in and out of her till her wetness was sufficiently spread over her pink puffy nether lips before pressing the blunt head of his cock against her opening. She was tight, but opened for him and he slid to the hilt with a groan.

"No." Her throaty gasp surprised him as much as her lust-glazed eyes. "Condom?" He chuckled and withdrew before once again filling her. His mouth traced her collar bone before trailing up her neck.

"Don't worry, pet. I'm fixed." Wet fingers toyed with her nipple, pinching the sides between the two fingers that had just been inside of her. His teeth sank into the juncture of her neck and shoulder and he was rewarded by a whimpering groan as she arched her back, pushing her hefty breasts against his chest. Her thighs trembled against his hips.

With long easy strokes, Simon began to fuck her. He took his time, savoring the way she would gasp each time he bottomed out or pinched the taught rosy nipples. Simon's mouth explored every inch of her body that he could reach without pulling out of her. The pale shoulders with a smattering of freckles. The mounds of soft creamy flesh that were tipped with hard pink nipples, pierced vertically with simple bars. Her chest which housed the hummingbird heart that thrummed while she undulated beneath him. He conquered it all.

Simon gripped the backs of her thighs and pulled her to him before spreading her legs wide. Her hands came up to cover her chest, but his eyes instructed her to leave herself bare to him. He held her like that, splayed and panting beneath him as he thrust into her. The sight of his cock, glistening with her juices, disappearing into her tight cunt brought the familiar heaviness of his balls that preceded his own orgasm.

Hooking her legs over his shoulders, Simon planted his hands beside her and watched her face contort from breathless huffs to silent screams paired with the ecstacy of his deepened strokes which seemed to pummel her into orgasmic submission. His hands gripped her rump as his thrusts changed from long and hard to fast and shallow. Wren's hands gripped his biceps as she arched her back, thrusting her breasts heavenward as she was pushed higher and higher then fell into the body-wracking waves of her orgasm. Simon shuddered as his hips jerked with his own climax, milked by the needy convulsions of her pleasure.

The once-deafening sound of blood pounding in his ears faded to the soft whimpering sobs beneath him. Simon looked down at the woman below him; knees nearly pressed to her shoulders, cheeks and nose pink, with tears slowly streaming down her face. With the fog of lust cleared, Simon could see the damage he had wrought upon Wren. He shifted their positions so that her legs fell from his shoulders and then rolled them so that Wren was atop him and he was on his back. His hands cradles her face as he shushed her and wiped away the tears.

"Stupid man. Why couldn't you just hurt me? Why did you have to make me-make me..." She hiccupped and burrowed her face into his neck. He held her till she had no more tears left to spill and was nearly asleep atop his chest. Simon's hand rubbed the top of her head and he waited for her to speak again.

"Why did you make me feel something good? I can't shut it out when it feels good." Wren whimpered and shivered against him. Simon pulled up the covers of the bed.

"It would've been useless not to make you feel good." He kissed her cheek. "Afterall, I told you that you are mine. I take good care of my things."

"Things that are already broken." She mumbled, slipping further into sleep. He thought better than to respond and shook his head, cradling her body against his as she slept.

**

Despite Wren's gentle breathing as she lay, nuzzled against him, Simon remained painfully awake. He didn't want to acknowledge her hesitancy, her refusal, or his own forceful actions. The tears weren't because of him, were they? Simon turned his head and saw the back of the painting next to the open doorway. She had tried to leave; didn't want to be here in the first place. Wren stirred, pressing closer to him as she shuddered. He wrapped an arm around her and felt his heart jump. Dull pain, as if he had just been whalloped in the chest, filled him. Even as regret seeped into his belly, he knew he would never be willing to let her leave him. His mind rushed to justify what he had done. Wolves aren't bad, they just do what they need in order to survive, he thought. I'm not a bad man, I'm just doing what I need. I need her.

**

When Wren woke again, her head was throbbing and felt like it had been filled with cotton. She stared up at the white ceiling, its textureless surface a screen for memories as the slipped from her mind so that she could watch them unfold, detached and without emotion. No and yes had somehow fused. Pleasure, betrayal, the phantom pain that she expects each time her body is used. Old memories and new memories melded together and needed to be analyzed with a careful scalpel so that they could be separated. Wren hated this process. It was slow and agonizing.

Once things were sorted to the best of her ability, Wren began to consider what to do next. Here she lay in a bed that was not the one across the lane in her bedroom-now a guest bedroom. She was unsure of where Simon was at, but knew he would be close. Wren shifted and felt the sticky reminder of him between her thighs. A warm familiar buzz settled in her abdomen as she thought of him and what he had done. Shame shocked her like the fall into ice-cold water. Her breath hitched and she felt more lost than ever. He had been gentle and kind yet domineering and unrelenting. Wren turned on her side and willed the world to go away. Then, she saw the back of a canvas.

**

Black tea with milk and toast. A meager breakfast. A pathetic apology. Simon blinked as he entered the room. There were two of her, standing side by side. One with her back to him, naked with tousled hair. The other laying atop a field of lavender, fading into nature. A glorious flesh-and-blood woman and a dream captured in paint on canvas. He cleared his throat and set the plate and mug atop the dresser.

"So, when you said you purchased a gorgeous piece..?" Her voice was neutral. It unsettled him that he could not tell what she was feeling or thinking.

"What can I say? It was love at first sight." Breaking open his chest with the light humorous tone, he bared a small piece of his heart to her. It ached.

"You knew me before yesterday." She nodded her head then tilted it to the side, still looking at the painting but considering something else. Something further away.

"Only by this." He moved to stand next to her, still too hesitant to look at her. "Though it is beautiful, it pales in comparison to the real you."

"And what would you know of the real me? A brief interaction. A sudden attraction. Wine. Sheets. Sex." Wren's voice held the deep resonance of sadness.

Simon sighed and warrily looked over at Wren. Her eyes held sadness and she was now cradled in her own arms. He lifted a hand, but hesitated as it hung above her shoulder. Simon opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened then stood to face her, his focus fully on her. They were both lost. He pulled her into his arms and was relieved when she did not struggle.

"Show me the real you and I will be held, motionless in fascination and appreciation. Artist. Old soul. Beauty. Sadness. Never before have I longed to know a story as much as I need to know yours." His lips pressed against her temple and she sighed, letting herself shatter against him before the pieces were pulled back into place one-by-one till she was now more whole than she had been in two years.

**

Tension was thick in the room. As Wren looked down into the plain black mug that held black tea and milk, she wondered if the tension would grow until it smothered them both. Simon had run across the drive to get her some fresh clothes and then returned with her shower things as well. Now clean, she was sitting in the cottage's small living room that held little more than an overstuffed grey chair and loveseat in order to make room for the enormous drafting table that took up the entirety of the far wall. Rather than a television, every spare space on the walls was wrapped in bookshelves that were full. The small table that sat in the corner of the loveseat and chair was stacked with new books.

"So." Wren had broken the silence without being fully sure of how to continue her thought. Simon smiled at her, cocking an eyebrow.

"So." He mimicked, his smile growing to a grin when she rolled her eyes at him.

"You're an architect?" She offered, now finding the task of small talk to be dread-inducing. Wren had no idea how to communicate with a stranger when they had already shared a bed.

"I am. Is there more to that thought or would you like me to comment on your profession as well?" He took a drank the rest of his coffee and set the empty mug beside the books.

"I don't know. It just seems interesting that an architect of your age would be sitting alone at a tiny rented cottage." Wren took a sip of her tea, more for show than to actually enjoy the too-strong flavor.

"What are you trying to say? Because it sounds a lot like you're calling me old and poor." He chuckled. "Also, I'm not alone. I'm with you."

Wren rolled her eyes at Simon. "I didn't mean it that way. You're probably only in your mid-thirties, anyway. I just find it odd that you're a-single?-man living alone in a cottage."

Simon's brows lifted at the lilt in her voice that seemed to be asking if he was available. He shook his head and coughed, not wanting to outright laugh at her guess as to his age. "It's complicated. Also, there are plenty of reasons why a forty two year old man would want to hole-up in a cottage in the middle of the forest."

Now Wren's brows lifted with surprise. A blush crept over her face. Seventeen years. The age gap hit her and her curiosity only grew stronger. She craned her neck to see his ring finger which, to her utter dismay, still held the faint tan line marking the wedding ring that once rested snugly there. "Complicated as in actually complicated, or complicated as in you're actually married and are using the distance from your wife to cheat?"

Frowning, Simon appraised Wren's defensive tone. Wren had struck a nerve. She was sitting, looking rather comfortable in the black sunflower print sundress he had picked out for her. One leg was tucked under the other. She was too comfortable bringing up things he would much rather not talk about. "Complicated. What about you? I would assume, based on your reaction this morning, that your love life is also rather complicated."

Wren's back went rigid. "That's none of your business, but if you're asking; I am single. That isn't what's complicated about me. You have yet to answer."

"And you have yet to ask." He stood, retrieving his mug, and went to fetch another cup. She was left to consider her next move. Wren sat down the mug of tea and threw her hands up.

"You're right. This is ridiculous. I don't know why I'm asking someone who forced himself on me whether or not he's married." She stood and walked to the door, casting a glare at him as she pulled it open. "You're clearly morally deficient either way."

Before she was able to step off of the concrete pad at the door, Simon's arms were around her. She gasped and struggled to get free but was pulled back into the cottage. He sat her down on the loveseat and rested his forearms on the back of his chair. Simon looked at her and shook his head. "Morally deficient or not, you're still mine. I meant it when I first said it and I mean it now."

Despite the growing warmth in her chest, Wren continued to shoot Simon with hateful looks. She crossed her arms and looked at the bookshelf across from Simon. "If I am meant to be a captive, then at least let me know why things are 'complicated'."

Simon sighed and bowed his head low until it touched his forearms. "Okay." He lifted his head and stared at the ceiling. "Okay."

Wren watched out of the corner of her eye as Simon moved around the chair and sat down. She gave up pouting and set her focus on him. He looked beyond her as he began to speak. "It's complicated because I'm not quite divorced. No papers. No lawyers. Not even a discussion since my wife told me she wanted me out." Simon rubbed his face, as if it could erase the worry on his face. "Don, my son, went off to college a couple years ago. Stopped coming home on the weekends. Then it was fall break and he missed Thanksgiving. Missed his mother's birthday and only stopped by once for Christmas. I thought he was spreading his wings and it was just a case of empty-nest syndrome when my wife began to distance herself. I figured she was just feeling lonely not having him at home. Date nights became fewer despite me trying to get her to go out and then they disappeared altogether. She said that she was spending time with her parents more and more frequently and then it all kind of just came crashing down."

Wren had moved closer and was now sitting with her knee nearly touching his. Her hand touched his thigh and she gave him a reassuring look. "Go on."

Simon's cold grey eyes were focused on the pale strip of skin where his wedding band had been. "Then, I was up in that area for work and met up with Don for his birthday. I begged him to come home and see his mom. Told him she was heartbroken not seeing him. I mentioned how distanced she was and he-he laughed. Called me a fool for not seeing it sooner. The reason he didn't come back was because he had caught on that Anne was sleeping with a fellow down the street. I didn't believe it. How could I? He must've been mistaken. I couldn't believe that my wife would cheat on me and then..." He took a struggling breath. "Then I confronted her. Expected her to deny everything. Instead, she tells me to get out. Well, I couldn't think so I just did as she asked. Told her to pack up my books and send 'em wherever when I get a new address. Picked up and moved to this town. Told myself it was to focus on work."