Sabretooth belongs to Marvel, all others are of my own creation. Reviews and constructive criticism welcome.
The night on the floor had been cold and she didn't get any sleep, wanting to keep one eye open. By the time daylight broke outside, she was nearly resigned to the fact that she had no escape and that he would rape her and her virtue would be lost. No one would want her.
Creed stirred in bed, his nose sniffing the air like a dog. Emma shivered again against the nearly dead fire. "Get th' kettle goin'." He muttered to the ceiling. She obliged by hauling the full pot to the fire and waited for him to make his way out of bed to get blaze going again.
They ignored each other for the first few minutes, sleep still reigning over them. Emma tugged up her stockings and readjusted the fur around her.
Creed had his tea and leftover bread at the kitchen table, ignoring her the whole time, until it he had to do yard work. He pulled on his boots and laced them up tightly, then pulled on a sweater over his shirt and buttoned up his coat. Emma found him a cap from inside her own trunk and handed it to him as a peace offering from the night before, which he took without a word.
Emma heard him chopping wood diligently as she dressed for the day and began opening the windows. Only three of them had glass so light was rather sparse, but she could use the kitchen window to see him just fine.
She was having a hard time figuring him out. She liked his strong a silent side like now, but was disgusted at his cruel streak. Turning to put on her own heavy wool socks and boots, Emma dressed up in a heavy coat and shawl then made her way out to refill the kettle for later.
At the water pump, she was having no luck. It was finished for the season. She trudged to the river instead and was frightened when she turned back to find Creed standing at her back with a frown and the axe resting by his side. He lifted his other hand and offered her a flower that was frosted over, its beauty captured by the instant ice.
The moment Emma had accepted it, he turned around again and stormed off back to chop wood.
Puzzled, she wandered back into the yard to watch him work. Breath was steaming up in clouds around him as he ignored her.
"I don't know you." She said openly.
"Nobody knows me." He grunted as the axe came down.
"I want a husband."
"Okay." Another swing of the axe.
"One that loves me."
Finally he stopped and propped his elbow up on the handle, leaning into it. "Listen little rabbit, I'll keep you safe if you keep me happy. That's the bargain."
"Is that a marriage proposal?" Her nose wrinkled.
"I guess so. Course, I think I get the better end o' the deal." He was back to chopping wood again.
"What about love?" Her response was a snort. She looked down at the flower.
ooooooo
She continued to be quietly ignored, which made for better sleep, but during the day she felt uneasy. Creed was currently hunting while she stayed at home and cleaned the last of the root vegetables for the stew that evening. She did not expect him to come home with an elk corpse, however.
He made her come outside and see it as he strung the animal up on this contraption built up on the side of the house she had never noticed before. Creed was absolutely beaming and in his element.
"This is the first time I've seen you happy." She commented while holding the flank of meat he had cut off for dinner.
"This'll feed us fer a week." He kept patting the dead animal and looking it over.
"I'm going to go in and add this to the stew then. Thank you." Emma turned on her heel, feeling out of place between the man and his kill, and did just as she said.
It wasn't until it was ready that she saw him again. He had cleaned himself up in the basin in the kitchen then reached into his pocket as she put two bowls down at their places beside the fresh bread. He flicked something round and wooded onto the table and it came to a rolling stop by knocking into her bowl. It was a ring carved out of wood.
"Needed somthin' t'do while waiting." His face was aflame as he sat down at the table.
"This is sort of affectionate." Emma gave it a look without committing to his proposal. He didn't respond. She put it down on the table between then and started to eat.
"You ain't gonna try it on?"
"Mr. Creed, it's lovely, but it won't fit me." She replied. To explain she took his clawed hand and held hers up against it so he could see the vast difference between their finger sizes. He had tried to carve it out small, but he had no idea how small it really needed to be.
She got up hesitantly and approached him in his chair. He didn't move but his eyes glared at her and her proximity to him. Emma couldn't pin point his age but he was definitely older than her seventeen years. She reached out, her hand trembling slightly, and put her palm against his cheek, softly turning his head up to her. He was obliging but grinding his teeth.
Bending slightly at the hip, she kissed him. Her lips gently pushing against his, her eyelashes batting against his cheek, they were both virginal when it came to this small intimacy.
Creed mouth opened slightly and she mimicked his motion, her eyes closed. His tongue snaked in and explored shallowly. Her mewling told him she enjoyed it so he entered deeper, finding her tongue wanting to explore his mouth.
Somewhere in that moment, he had pulled her into his lap and was holding her hip and using his other hand to travel up her back and into her black hair, down around her shoulders today.
As the kiss broke they became aware that the other was aroused. Creed's breathing was heavy in her ear as he held on to her.
This was your doing Emma. She admonished herself, afraid to speak about marriage again in such a state.
"Will we get married tomorrow?" She asked into his shirt, his chest rising and falling deeply as he twirled her hair between his fingers. His erection straining under his pants and pushing into the crevice between her legs and it felt too good to stop now.
"Yes, whatever you want." He replied, muffled from nuzzling her neck through her hair.
"You won't tell anyone, will you?" Creed picked her as she sat and strode to the bed, pulling off his shirt and ripping at his pants, unable to contain himself much longer after hearing what he interpreted as 'go'.
"Not a soul." He flipped her over on to her stomach and ripped open her dress, all the way down the back. She was so naked and new in front of him. Before she could change her mind, he flipped her again and dove down, snaking his tongue that had just been inside her mouth between her legs. She squealed and then softened, drawing a low moan from within her.