The door clicked shut behind Chief Eldric, sealing Alex inside the small guest room with nothing but the low crackle of the oil lamp and the distant murmur of the village settling for the night. He dropped onto the edge of the bed, the wool blanket rough against his palms, and let out a long, slow breath.
His body still thrummed with leftover adrenaline from the fight, muscles coiled and ready, skin tingling where fresh scars were already fading faster than they had any right to. He glanced down at himself again: the broad chest stretching the linen tunic, the thick forearms, the unmistakable bulge of power between his legs even now, half-hard just from the memory of swinging that sword and watching men fall. A slow, crooked grin tugged at his mouth.
"Fuck me," he muttered under his breath, voice low and rough. "This is the best damn dream I've ever had… or the luckiest break of my life."
He wasn't stupid. Something had changed him, his body, instincts, everything. And whatever it was, he liked it. A lot. The way the villagers had stared at him after the fight, wide-eyed and grateful, the way their voices shook when they called him a savior… it fed something dark and hungry inside him. He wanted more of that look. More of that power. More of everything.
A soft knock pulled him out of his thoughts.
The door eased open and a woman slipped inside, balancing a wooden tray in both hands. She was striking in a simple, earthy way: auburn hair braided over one shoulder, freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks like spilled cinnamon, full lips curved in a nervous but warm smile. Her green dress hugged her in all the right places, breasts straining gently against the bodice, hips swaying as she walked, the hem brushing strong calves.
She dipped a quick curtsy. "Hero," she said softly, the word carrying real weight, almost reverence. "I'm Mara. Chief Eldric sent me with supper… and water to clean the blood away."
Alex's gaze raked over her slowly, shamelessly. He didn't bother hiding the interest in his eyes. "Mara," he repeated, tasting the name. "Come in. Close the door."
She did, nudging it shut with her hip, then crossed to the small table and set the tray down: dark bread, a wedge of sharp cheese, steaming mutton stew thick with carrots and herbs, a pitcher of ale. She straightened, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress, clearly aware of how his stare lingered on the swell of her cleavage.
"You're still covered in their blood," she said, voice quieter now. She picked up the folded cloth beside the basin of warm water. "Let me help, hero. Please."
Alex stood, towering over her without even trying. He held out his right arm, the one with the shallow gash already knitting itself closed and watched her step closer. Her fingers were careful as she dipped the cloth and began wiping the drying blood from his skin. Up close she smelled faintly of lavender soap and woodsmoke, a clean, feminine scent that made his cock twitch against the rough fabric of his trousers.
"You fought like a storm given flesh," she murmured, rinsing the cloth again. "I've never seen anything like it. The way the fire answered you… the way you protected us all…"
Alex let out a low chuckle, the sound dark and pleased. "I like hearing you say that, Mara. Call me hero again."
Her cheeks flushed pink, but she didn't look away. "Hero," she whispered, softer this time, almost like a secret.
His free hand moved before he even thought about it catching her chin gently but firmly, tilting her face up so she had to meet his eyes. "You're pretty when you blush," he said, thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. "Bet you're even prettier when you're on your knees thanking me properly."
Mara's breath hitched. Her pupils dilated, dark and wide. She didn't pull away. If anything, she leaned into his touch just a fraction.
"I… I owe you everything," she said, voice trembling with something between nerves and want. "Willowbrook has so little to give a man like you. But I… I can give you what I have."
Alex's grin widened, slow and predatory. "Then give it."
He released her chin. Mara sank to her knees right there on the worn floorboards, hands sliding up his thighs to rest on his hips. She looked up at him through thick lashes, lips parted, cheeks burning.
"Hero," she breathed again, fingers already working the ties of his trousers. "Let me show you how grateful I am."
The fabric loosened. His cock sprang free thick, heavy, and already fully hard and curving upward with shameless need. Mara's eyes widened, a soft, involuntary sound slipping from her throat. She wrapped both hands around him, stroking slowly from base to tip, marveling at the heat and the weight of him.
Alex groaned low, one hand sliding into her braid, not pulling yet just holding. "That's it," he rasped. "Show your hero how much you appreciate being saved."
Mara leaned forward and pressed a reverent kiss to the swollen head, tongue darting out to lap at the bead of precum. Then she opened her mouth and took him in slowly at first, lips stretching wide around his girth, cheeks hollowing as she sucked. She moaned softly around him, the vibration traveling straight to his balls.
Alex's head tipped back for a second before he looked down again, watching her work. "Deeper," he ordered, voice rough. "I want to feel your throat, Mara."
She whimpered but obeyed, relaxing her jaw and sliding further until her nose brushed his pelvis. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, but she didn't stop—didn't even pause—just held him there, throat fluttering around the intrusion, before pulling back to breathe and diving down again.
"Fuck, that's good," he growled, hips rocking shallowly now, fucking her mouth with controlled thrusts. "Look at you… pretty little village girl choking on hero cock like it's the best thing you've ever tasted."
Mara's hands gripped his thighs tighter. One slipped between her own legs, pressing against the damp heat through her dress. The soft, wet sounds of her fingers moving joined the slick glide of her mouth.
Alex tightened his grip in her hair. "You're soaked just from sucking me off, aren't you?"
She moaned in answer, the sound muffled and desperate.
He pulled her off with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting her swollen lips to his glistening cock. "Stand up," he said. "I'm not done with you yet."
Mara rose on shaky legs, eyes glassy, lips red and slick. Alex hauled her against him, kissing her hard—claiming her mouth. His hands roamed: squeezing her breasts through the dress, pinching her nipples until she gasped into his mouth, then sliding down to grip her ass and grind her against his erection.
"Bed," he muttered against her lips. "Now."
XXXX
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