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Chapter Three

Clermont sat on the roughly made wooden chair and looked out of the frost-bitten window. The landscape in front of him was pure white as the snow inched deeper on the forest floor. The nightmare that had plagued him for the last six months had once again escaped his waking mind.

Ever since he’d turned twenty, the nightmares had started. Clermont didn’t remember much from his childhood, but every now and then, a memory would linger, almost within his grasp. He clenched his fists in frustration as the memory faded away.

Ever since he could remember he’d lived in this cottage in the woods. The man who’d found him as a starved out little boy had taken him in and cared for him. Marrick had taught him how to read and write, to hunt, to add numbers and make sums. He taught him to fight and protect himself.

He was going to miss the old man. Marrick had died six months ago, right around the time the nightmares had started. Clermont watched as the wind picked up and leaned forward. He was sure he had just heard a scream.

He grabbed his thick coat, thanks to the grizzly bear he’d slain three months earlier, and stuck his broadsword in its scabbard. His boots crunched on the frozen snow as he gripped his hunting knife in his left hand.

He turned towards the scream carried to him on the wind. East, he decided. He ran through the thicket of trees, knowing the pathways and densely forested trees like the back of his hand. He’d lived here most of his life.

He approached the small clearing with caution as he could now hear raised voices. Angry voices echoed around him and he gripped his knife more firmly. A man stood with his back to him, his hand gripping something or someone in front of him.

“Orders are orders. You are no longer wanted.”

“Please …” The voice was timid but sweet and Clermont felt a rush go through his system. It was a woman, a young one at that.

He looked at the two other men that stood laughing on either side of the man holding the woman. Their hands were on their hips and one had only one arm. No threat. Making his decision in seconds he lunged from his hiding space and stuck the knife deep into the first man’s back.

His gasp of surprise told Clermont that he’d hit his mark, his heart. He pulled the knife free as the second man’s eyes widened and he reached for his sword. The knife slashed across his throat and a hand went up to the wound automatically. It wouldn’t save him though.

Clermont turned towards the third man, the one with only one arm and the man stumbled backwards, losing his footing. “Please, I won’t say a word of this.”

Clermont looked at the man, his eyes ice cold. “No, you won’t.”

The knife went into his throat and he pulled it to the side, severing the arteries as his warm blood sprayed across the white clearing. The woman hadn’t stopped screaming and Clermont turned towards her, looking for any injuries.

She flinched and made herself a smaller target. She sobbed and pleaded with him to spare her life and Clermont cocked his head to the side. Was she afraid of him? He couldn’t really fathom why she was.

“Come.”

Clermont took three steps forward when he realized she wasn’t following him. She was still on the frozen ground on her knees. He sighed audibly and turned back towards her. She was shaking all over, her thin dress not suitable for the weather.

She was dressed like the women who came to his cabin once a week, every Tuesday. He paid them in fur or meat, whatever they needed that week and took what he wanted, his own release. He wasn’t the type to settle down, didn’t have much to offer a woman in any way.

The woman’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and Clermont put the hunting knife in its scabbard on his belt. The woman went over his shoulder as he trudged his way back to the cabin, back to warmth and he wondered what the hell he was doing.

She was a tiny thing, even for a woman, skinny and definitely young. His first assessment of her had been correct. Her flimsy dress on the other hand told him that he could barter with her. He had plenty of questions, like who the men he’d killed were and why she was with them? Why did they want to kill her?

The fire in the hearth had gone down to embers and Clermont put the woman down on his bed. Her head rolled to one side and he pulled his jacket off. He added more logs of wood to the fire and stoked it until the flames licked at the wood and he could feel its warmth.

Back in his room he pulled the bearskin over her body and stood looking at her hard nipples visible through the flimsy material of the dress she wore. He could feel a stirring in his loins but he mentally shook his head and covered her up to her neck.

He was not an animal, a man yes, but not an animal. He looked out of the window as he heard the howls of the wild pack of wolves that also lived in the forest. They would have smelled the blood and their noses would have guided them to their free meal tonight.

Clermont nodded his head in the darkening room. Bones would be found, ripped pieces of their clothes, but not much else. The wolves would make sure of that. Food was scarce and even he’d had to venture deeper into the forest to hunt.

He had just taken off his wet shirt when a knock fell on the wooden door of his cabin. He looked toward the door and then realized that it was Tuesday. It would either be Margot or Mary-Katherine at his door and he marched toward it and opened it.

“Good evening Clermont.”

“Mary-Katherine.” He nodded his head as he opened the door wider and she shuffled past him inside.

“Do you want me on top tonight?”

Clermont walked to the only bedroom and pulled the door closed. It didn’t latch since it was just the door, no lock and he walked back to the hearth and his wooden chair in front of it.

“Take off your clothes.”

Mary-Katherine stripped off her coat and the equally flimsy dress underneath. She wore no petticoats because underwear was overrated and for the rich, one thing she wasn’t. Clermont loosened his breeches and toed off his boots.

They stood in front of the fireplace, the only source of light in the room and he sat down on the wooden chair. Mary-Katherine smiled and straddled his lap. Clermont’s fingers went to the apex of her thighs as she stood on her knees.

She was a pretty girl, in her early twenties with long black hair. She had dark brown eyes and full lips. She could be sultry when she tried and Clermont had no problem imagining her as a lady at court. But life was unkind to most and they all had to do what they had to in order to survive.

Clermont’s thumb found her clitoris as his fore- and middle finger rubbed over her slit. Mary-Katherine ground herself against his fingers and soon enough she was wet and ready for penetration. Clermont gripped her hips and guided himself inside her.

She closed her eyes as she sank down on top of him and almost immediately Clermont began moving her hips. His fingers dug into her skin and her hands wound around his neck. Clermont never kissed even when she tried to.

He just wanted sex, no complications and no questions asked. It was a service he paid for, one he could afford and he leaned his head back with closed eyes as her hands gripped his shoulders and she started bouncing up and down on top of him.

Clermont felt someone looking at him just as he felt his balls tighten. Mary-Katherine was already clamping down on top of him, milking his erection. As her body slowed its movements he started thrusting roughly up into her, seeking his release.

He could feel the tingle from the base of his spine right into his balls and into his cock. It was a tense few seconds before his release spurted inside Mary-Katherine and she arched her back. Her breasts moved up and down as she breathed hard and Clermont pulled out of her.

“I always forget how sore you leave me the day afterwards.”

“Fur or meat?” Clermont wouldn’t apologize for anything. She sat on cocks for a living, the size didn’t really matter, did it? He pulled his breeches back on as she shimmied into her dress and coat.

“Meat. A girl has to eat.”

Clermont huffed out a laugh as he went to an attached room where slabs of meat hung off hooks and he picked out a piece for her. He wrapped the salted meat in brown paper and handed the package over to her.

“See you next week.”

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