by Ally Nelson
There wasn't any question of whether or not she was going to go. Of course she was going to go. The service was free for women. She could just go pick up an American husband really quick. It was like a dream.
She'd have to go down to the office that day in order to apply. They would have a few requirements before she could begin the process. She wore a pair of form fitting blue jeans and a nice white parka and she went on her way.
Chapter 3
The international marriage agency was located in a simple renovated college just outside the city. It was done up like the perfect home with a flowerbed and a swinging bench on the wraparound porch. It made Anya think of having a family one day. That was the real reason for all of this. She wanted a family more than anything. She needed a kid. Her life's ambition, since she was little was to become a wife and mother. To her, there was nothing more beautiful than running a home and bringing life into the world. She wanted love, but she would have a child either way if she could.
She walked up the frost-laden steps and made her way inside. The receptionist was a simple woman with a pixie cut and glasses. She smiled when she walked in the door.
“Are you here to register,” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Alright. We'll call you in a moment.”
A scrub-wearing nurse came out and took her to an exam room. He explained that they would need to do a DNA test. That seemed very odd to Anya. She knew they'd probably test for STDs, but that wasn't done with a DNA test.
“Why a blood test?”
“We have very specific requirements for admission.”
“It's not anything weird is it?”
“No. We just have clients who want girls with very specific traits. We will also be testing fertility. Can you have children?”
“Yes.”
“Alright.”
Once the test was over they checked her papers to make sure she could travel and sent her on her way. They said that she would be accepted and that she should wear something nice. She did ask about her look and they said it would be perfect for the agency. This both confounded and excited her. In fact, it was all she could think about on the way home. These men would like her.
* * * * *
Anya looked stunning in her long, red sequin gown. Her hair was glowing. She had it curled and she was wearing her favorite ruby red lipstick. Her grandmother had always told her to wear red if she wanted a husband. It had a way of affecting them, she said. She didn't believe in old superstitions, but she was going to use every trick at her disposal.
The mixer was set in a majestic dance hall. There was a crystal chandelier and a beautiful marble floor. There were waiters walking around in tuxedos with wine glasses on trays. She decided to abstain. Thoughts of the night she should've had with Ivan were still fresh in her mind, but she wasn't going to let that get to her. She was going to meet her husband. That was what mattered.
They lined the women up on stage and started the announcements. She was last in line, which excited her. She looked around the room. Many of the women were stunning, but she was a fierce competitor who could stand up to the rest of them. When they called her name, she beamed and the audience clapped.
There was one man standing in the back corner that she saw looking her way. He was big and muscular. He had hair covering his entire body and a black buzz cut. She could feel her thighs getting warm at the thought of him on top of her. She wanted this man and there was something that said that he wanted her too.
Every school in her area taught English, and she loved the language. Although it was quite harsh, the harshest she'd ever heard, she found it to be glamorous. It was the language of majesty and the rich. It would be her language, and she knew it well. She practiced it every chance she got. She read English books and watched English movies more than she did in her own language.
She decided that she should try out her skills. When the music came on, she walked over to one of the men and smiled. He was a bald, furry little man that seemed to be undressing her with his eyes. She wasn't going to go for the kill right away. She wanted to lure her suitor in a bit. It worked. As soon as she opened her mouth, he was there. His hot breath was on her neck and she could feel her thighs getting warmer. Her sanctuary was throbbing and when she turned around to look at that somber face, she melted.
He had such tender eyes. He was giving her a knowing smile and they were spinning around the dance floor before she knew what was happening.
“What is your name,” his face was close to hers when he asked and she could smell cinnamon.
“Anya.”
“How is your English, Anya?”
“I am fluent.” The man seemed pleased by that. They took a dip and his chest was bearing into hers.
“Is this your hometown?”
“No. I came here as a child. I’m from the country.”
“Which do you prefer, the city or the country.” This was an odd question.
“The city.” The man seemed displeased by that.
“Why?” Anya didn't like this question.
“The country scares me.”
“I understand. I live on the outskirts of the city, so you'd like it. I have a forest house near Portland, Oregon in the US. Do you like the U.S?”
“No. But I would like to go there.” The man smiled when she said no.
“You sound like an intelligent woman. You're sure of yourself.”
“I am.”
She felt his eyes move down her body. He liked her and he took the air right out of her. His grip was firm but tender. His features were round, and he had a graceful way of moving. His eyes met hers, just as the song was ending, and their lips met slowly.
He didn't move his tongue inside of her. He was respectful, but he did put his hand around her waist. He could've taken on the dance floor, and he would've given himself to her at a moment's notice, but this was not that kind of date, no matter how much she wanted it to be. She didn't like the barrier, but it was there nonetheless.
His hands moved up to stroke her hair out of her face and she melted immediately. She could feel his firm grip moving slowly down her waist and her heart beat to the rhythm of his sultry steps. She wanted him and he would take her. That was the sexiest part. He would be hers and they both knew it.
“I've been waiting for you for a long time, Anya.” She blushed as she felt her body starting to give way from the intense passion. He struck a chord and there was no going back. It may as well have been a marriage vow.
“And I have been waiting for you. What is your name?”
“Caleb.” They parted for one terrifying moment while he went to get their drinks, but he was back as soon as he came.
Caleb was an angel, but there was a fierceness to him. At the same time, he was tender. It was strange to see both traits in a person, but they were bursting out of him, like a tangible aura that wafted through the air. His eyes would dart this way and that. It reminded Anya of a man that she knew who came back from being stationed in the military. He said he saw stuff, and Anya wanted to know what he saw.
She needed to see behind that veil. It scared her, but she was wholly devoted. This man would never hurt her—she could feel it. He would protect her. They'd only just met, but they both knew.
When he walked back, she was trembling. His bulge pronounced just enough to be sexy while still being appropriate. She needed to be in his arms, and then she was. Their eyes met and his lips met hers. The entire room stopped. The music was gone and so was the dance floor. He picked her up and kicked out the door and they were walking back to his hotel. His arms were so bog. His skin was rough in the right places and smooth in the right places. Most of all, she had never felt safe as when she was in his arms and they were on the elevator. She was nestled sweetly against his chest when he opened the door to his room and she was writhing with excitement as he slammed her onto the bed. This wasn't that kind of date, this was different.
She didn't believe in magic until she sa
w him tear off his shirt in one swoop and it was lying on the floor. He was a beast. His entire chest was covered in soft black fur that, as she rubbed her hands against it, sent jolts of static running down her hands. Their eyes met and big lips were caressing hers as he slowly exposed her chest to the warm air. When his tongue finally pierced through her lips, she sighed and felt her thighs getting warmer. She was dripping with sweet ambrosia as his tongue darted around and held hers. She felt as though she'd been waiting for this touch her entire life.
He smelled of fire and ash. His body was a sweltering volcano that set her ablaze as he slowly nibbled on the nip of her neck. She cried out and he growled and bit her nipple through her shirt. It was like lava, making its way down her stomach and over her temple that was already screaming for his touch. He reached his hands around and gently rubbed her back. She could feel the tantalizing pressure as his electric finger unhooked her bra and he threw it off the bed. He looked down and took her in and she felt vulnerable. His fingers ran along the edge of her nipple and her voice shuddered as he slowly undid his zipper.
She could feel her lips salivating from the thought of caressing him. She wanted to run her tongue around the head just to see his face brimming with pleasure. He saw the desire in her eyes and picked her nipple again as he hands moved down her pants, stopping just short of her lips. His finger grazed her spot and she jolted from the sparks that shot out.
His hands were moving lower. His fly was almost open and she could make out the outline of his thick cock starting to come to the surface. She wanted it. She could feel herself tense up from the overwhelming desire. She needed to feel it inside of her. His fingers were circling her lips and she could feel her explosion coming. She had to stop it. He couldn't do that. It was too early. She was panting frantically. He had a cocky smile on his face as he reached in and rubbed his hands up and down his shaft.
“I want to cum inside you,” his deep whisper made her tremble with excitement.
He pulled out his cock and it jumped up and down. It was almost as big as her arm. The thought of it rushing through her was too much to bear and his thumb was rubbing so good along her clit. She knew that explosion was coming, but she could stop it no matter how hard she tried. He cries echoed throughout the room as she puckered up and a fountain of amorous fluid shot out of her. She was still throbbing. He was stroking himself and watching her. He reached down and his fingers grazed her inner sanctum. Another explosion came and ripped through her.
“Please, I need it.”
“Yeah?”
His finger slammed inside of her and moved back and forth. She could feel herself losing all awareness. The only thing that existed was the relentless jolts of ecstasy that were passing through her and the wave after wave of explosions that sent her writhing.
A wave of magical energy thrust itself upon her and she was overcome by passion as his cock slammed into her over and over again. She was losing track of her roller coaster of orgasms that came right after the other in a furious barrage of ecstasy. She could feel his face tense up from the pleasure and he bent down to kiss her once more His hot breath was moving like a bonfire, down her chest and into her temple, like the cock that had finally found its place. He was screaming with her. His body was shaking and she was seething with the fire that sparked an eruption of passion. He was spewing hot lava inside of her and she was unaware of anything except the love which had enveloped her in his arms.
Chapter 4
People don't believe in love at first sight. They say it's a fairy tale that never existed. They define their bleak pessimistic worldview on that thought. Whether or not you believe in fate is decided by whether or not you believe in true love. When you find it, everything changes. You see the world as a place of enchantment and opportunity. You begin to question everything you believe in, and how you interact with the world. It's all because when you do find it, you become so certain of it that you could never possibly doubt it. It does exist. If you've never experienced it, you couldn't possibly understand. It's not rare, though it is treasured. It's natural and it happens every single day.
When the sun started peeking behind the Victorian curtains of Caleb's majestic suite, she started to feel a smile creeping up on her lips. There were warm arms around her and she'd seen visions of faeries and gods in her dreams. He was there. He was real, and they would be together.
He was already awake, staring at her while she slept. She could tell that he was mesmerized by her. It felt so sweet to have somebody really care about her. She realized that she had never had that happen before. She thought she had, but nobody had laid down with her and explored her body, loving every single part of her. She felt like a child discovering how many fingers they had. She explored every crevice and every hair. It was the most intimate experience she'd ever had.
Anya knew what she had found. Just the confirming it in her mind sent chills all over her.
There was a lot to do. They had to arrange visas, handle shipping, and she would go to the US before her marriage. Caleb wanted her to just come, and she wanted to, but there was something there. He shifted his eyes around that much. He would stop and stare into space sometimes. She needed to know everything. This was her life she was talking about, and she wasn't going to give it over when she didn't know what was going.
Room service arrived with a breakfast of porridge and honey. There were berries on the side. It was delicious. They made their way out to make arrangements and went from there.
* * * * *
Anya's departure to the US was scheduled in less than a month. She said her goodbyes to her friends and went to visit her parent's grave. She would miss them the most. She'd been going to their grave since she was a little girl. She begged the church to have them buried near the city so she could visit them, and the priests obliged after a hefty sum from her parent's estate. They'd died when she was a little girl.
She was excited to be leaving Siberia. She hated the cold. She loved it when she could walk around in shorts and short sleeved shirts, but that wasn't very often. She felt chilled everywhere she went. Her nose would run and her face would sting. She'd have to constantly wear chap stick and apply lotion so her skin didn't crack. No matter what, though, that chill was always there, haunting her like her parent's death.
She dreamed of beaches and green meadows. She wanted to feel the sun without feeling like the air was stabbing her. It was too much—it always had been. She was ready to leave.
They were standing in his suite on the last day looking out over the city. It could've been any city, but it was the tundra. She would finally leave it behind. They both had to wear fur just to be comfortable. The night air could kill you.
“I want you in my life, Anya, but you won't love me.”
She was shocked. “I already do.”
“But you don't know me for who I am.”
“I can feel you already.”
“No. You have no idea. I will show you.”
“Show me what?”
“In time.” He looked out over the balcony for a while and Anya knew that something was very wrong. People have this kind of conversation before they marry, but this felt different. He was different, but there was something more. She needed to understand. “There are things you never knew existed.”
“I didn't know this kind of love existed, Caleb. It couldn't possibly be that bad.”
“It is.”
* * * * *
The trees were black. Their needles were waiting to pierce through soft flesh and whatever lay hidden within the shadows they cast would devour the entrants. Fear is a tangible entity, a protector. It should never be ignored. Don't go near him. You will love him; you will trust him. He will shelter you in his arms and you will lie with him, but when you enter the forest, he will crush your skull.
She was wearing a white flowing nightgown, something you'd find in another century. Her arms were reaching out and her voice was wailing.
“Mother!” The woman was
a brightly lit apparition.
She was wailing. Her screams were the cold wind, stabbing through flesh and cracking bones. That face told a message from beyond the thin veil between the worlds.
Anya tried to sit up, but his arms were tightly wound around her. He was still sleeping. He looked so peaceful, with his soft snores and his fluttering eyes. He must be dreaming. She felt safe. They would leave to Portland, and she would make her decision there. The flight would leave at noon and it was five in the morning. She decided to push his arms off of her and get dressed. The same breakfast of porridge, berries and honey arrived in less than an hour. It was strange. He always had that in the morning. She'd never eaten it before, but the sugar was comforting. It reminded her of when she was in the orphanage and she'd sneak honey from the priest's table to put in her oatmeal.
When he awoke, the first thing he did was get up and kiss her. It was such a comfort to be the first thing he saw in the morning.
They got ready quickly and were on the flight without any trouble. He would have to wait while she went through customs, which was going to be a grueling process. America had closed their borders off so tightly that she had no reassurance that she could enter.
She'd never been on a plane before. Caleb had insisted on her getting a widow seat. He said the experience was thrilling. He got them a seat in first class, where he said they would be waited on. This was when Anya first realized that Caleb was a man of means. She figured that the agency, as wealthy as they obviously were, had paid for the suite, but they hadn't. She figured that Caleb had nice clothes that he bought for that night, but they were all designer.
“You're rich, aren't you?” They were waiting for the plane to take off.
“Yes.”
“How rich?”
“I can buy anything.”
“Billions.”
“Yes.”
“You are comfortable with me asking this?”
“You have to know. I am your husband and you will be my wife. Well, maybe. You will decide.”
