By the Horns

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By the Horns Page 43

by Jeanette Lynn


  An endless cycle of body hopping. “Does it not grow old? Do you not wish for a body of your own? Can’t be pleasant, cramming yourself into another’s like that.”

  “Oh,” he crooned, “under the right circumstances, it can be quite pleasant, I assure you.”

  “No side effects?” I wondered aloud. “Just emptying one person of their being, one body after another, slipping right in like it’s a coat. Sounds horribly... empty.” And lonely. “Did you never want anyone to claim you as their own, for yourself, not some body you play at?”

  Puck’s lips flattened, nostrils twitching along with his ears. “I thought we were hammering out the details of our agreement, not pretending to have some deep moment.” His hand lifted in an impatient gesture. “Unless you wish to continue on this vein? Suppose you’ll claim next you would have chosen me, in another life, another time, had you known the man of before, hmm? Share a kiss, a doe-eyed look, meanings and bullshit and whatever your fanciful female head has concocted in your halfcocked, estrogen filled mind?”

  “Right. Of course.” My smile was small and forced. “So, do we have a deal, then?” Holding my hand out to shake on it, reaching across the barrier the temple afforded, I waited.

  Eyeing my hand as if he thought it might turn to snakes, he slowly slipped his into mine.

  We shook and his grip tightened, fingers curving around mine, and he jerked me towards him. “You know, I never was one for such silly, simple gestures, I think a show of good faith is in order.

  A thick hand slid to my back, pressing me until I was flush against him, our joined hands squashing between my breasts.

  “Good faith?” I murmured, staring into a pair of purple eyes flashing with red.

  His hips shifted, his cock, still out and flailing about happily, pressing into my belly.

  Ohhhh, that kind of good faith.

  I didn’t move, waiting for him to make his. Your call, Peacock.

  Releasing me, he stepped back, taking with him all that warmth and sexual heat. If I said I was immune to it, I’d be lying. “Undress,” he ground out gutturally.

  Tipping my chin to stare up at him, I slipped the thin fur and itchy blanket cloak from my shoulders. Shift gown and nothing else on beneath, purple eyes deepened as they eyed me, darkening with desire. Nostrils steaming, his hand lifted, brushing my shoulder so gently, tenderly, my skin shivered.

  It was so cold out my skin prickled to the point of pain, angry goose pimples raising up on my flesh. My nipples were two hardened beads, a fact the horny beast looming over me took advantage of. He cupped a heavy swell, squeezing.

  My hand slid to the strap of my gown and I slid it off my shoulder, watching him as his breathing changed, growing heavy and chuffing.

  “You take too long,” he muttered, yanking the opposite strap down with a harsh tug. While one hand fisted my gown over my stomach, tightening, twisting his grip until the material pulled tight and he jerked me towards him, his other hand went to the loose braid dangling down my back.

  My hands slapped to his chest, clenching when his fingers threaded through my hair and he tugged.

  My shift tore, tumbling to my feet, pooling around my boots.

  “Turn around,” he ground out, his now freed hand sliding across my belly, making my stomach quiver, to slip around to my backside where he gave a jiggling cheek a harsh smack. “Over here, then.”

  Turning to follow without question, hobbled with my shift at my feet, head dipping, peering up at him from beneath my lashes, I allowed him to maneuver us as he wished.

  Grabbing the blankets, he shoved them behind me, plopping down on them. Legs spreading, he patted his groin. Thick fingers gripped his cock, angling it towards me as I stepped from my shift, eyeing my boots.

  “Leave the boots,” he gestured to my nose, “lose the snot jewelry. Be quick about it. I tire of waiting. Always fucking waiting.”

  Slipping the long length of chain over my head, I turned and set it down in the snow next to the blankets.

  Heavily muscled legs bent, straining as he held himself perfectly still. “Come, wingless. Put that pretty cunt of yours to use. Good use,” he corrected.

  Glancing at him from over my shoulder, I caught him snickering, a dark look crossing his face as he looked to the temple.

  “Surely you aren’t jealous of Adelric?” I murmured incredulously.

  Surely he wasn’t jealous at all. Unless...

  “Do you feel it?” I asked, my boots rucking the blanket as I straddled his thick waist facing away from him, scooting forward to lean over his knees when, with a snort and an incredulous look of his own, his hand went to my spine and he urged me to bend over them.

  “The only thing I feel, sweetling,” he muttered, “is ready to ruin thissss,” his words trailed off on a hiss as his index finger slid to my slit, sliding over it to slip inside. “You’re ready for me, aren’t you?” His voice was a husky growl, the fat tip of his cock slipping home as his fingers slid free and his hips lifted.

  He got about half way in before pulling out to grip my hips, his knees spreading just enough to allow me to slide down, he rammed me down on him.

  Gasping, nails digging into his knees, I cried out. It was a tight fit like this, my legs spread wide, body taut, holding on for the ride. If possible, he felt even thicker.

  “Ah...” he hummed, “that’s the stuff.” Lifting my hips, despite my legs locking, trembling, my sex convulsing with the pinch of pleasure that came right after the pain, he slammed me back down. His cock jerked and I knew he’d found his release, but he didn’t stop there.

  Again and again he thrust, pulsing, ramming up into me enthusiastically.

  “I like you like this.” Groaning, he hissed. “I own you now, little human. You’ll never want another when I’m through with you, beg for my cock when I summon you.” Another ramming pump. “Nay, I’ll demand you beg for it. And if you’re a good little concubine, maybe I’ll allow you to suck my cock after.”

  Dropping forward to my hands and knees, his legs on either side of me, squeezing my ribs, his cock buried deep, he slapped my ass. I cried out again, shivering, biting my lip until it bled to keep the moan on the tip of my tongue back.

  Sitting up behind me, supporting his weight on his hands, he lifted his hips, dropping to the ground so I landed with a thump, his cock slamming home every time his ass hit the blanket. Sucking in a harsh breath, I couldn’t take it anymore, shaking my head and crawling forward.

  The insides of my thighs ached from clenching, belly twinging as I tried to stave off my release. It felt wrong, so very wrong. A very twisted part of me liked it. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. Puck was fucking with my head, and I was certain he knew it.

  “Second thoughts?” He was on me in a moment, his hand pressing to the back of my head, my face turned, smashing it into the snow.

  My ass shot up, boots digging in, right when he found purchase. Cock lining up, he slid home with a gentleness that belied his rough taking of moments before, groaning something in a language I didn’t understand. As if sighing in relief, my pussy squelched as he buried himself to the hilt, and he began grinding himself into me.

  “Admit it, sweet little fuckable Chosen likes being taken hard. Likes the nasty fae fucking her.” His hand slipped between us, brushing where we were joined. He gathered the proof of his recent release as it tried to slip free with every pump of his hips. “Going to come for me,” he whispered. “Not for your dwarf of a bastard Tauran or his pale dunce of a brother, but me. Your torturer, seducer,” his breath tickled my ear, long tongue sneaking out to trace the shell of my ear, “your lover... ruler. Your only one.”

  My body was coiled tight, ready to tip over the edge. I was right there.

  “Going to fuck you in the ass next. Breach that tight little puckered hole. You liked when we did that before, back at the caves with my queen, didn’t you?”

  My sex clenched and he let out a satisfied chuckle.

  “Fuc
k off,” I muttered, sliding forward as he picked up his speed as if accepting the challenge.

  His hand slid to my clit, where he teased the swollen bud. “You first.”

  Flick. Thrust. Flick. Grind.

  “Ah-ah!”

  He was swelling again, so thick inside me. With a very bovine low, he called out as I came. My sheath convulsed, working him, milking his cock.

  One moment I was coming so hard it hurt, the next he was gone, chuckling as if he enjoyed my cry of anguish. I had no doubts he did.

  Whirling around, I found him propped between the cemetery wall and gate, the blanket less than a foot away, his bare ass resting on a pile of snow. Cock covered in our combined juices, primed and ready, he lifted his hands, putting them behind his head.

  “Need something, vacha?”

  Ignoring his use of what I’d come to see as an endearment, whatever the bloody hell it really meant, a snarl ripped from my lips.

  “Ah-ah-ah.” His smile was more of a smirk. “Crawl to me,” his eyes slid to my breasts, “slowly.”

  Eyes flashing, I walked back to the blanket, my hands sliding along the snow, snatching up my shift to toss it next to him. Breathing heavily, half panting with need, I slunk forward, his lips parting as I lifted my head, eyeing him evenly.

  Once I was right over him, his fat dick within reach, I leaned forward and gently nipped the tip. Jumping with a shout, he went to grab me but froze at my garbled, “Don’t touch me.”

  He blinked, eyes slowly widening, but didn’t move.

  Slinking higher, I grabbed his thighs, fingers digging in for a moment, long enough to leave a mark behind, to trail higher. He grunted, breath hitching, eyes glazing over when I lifted myself up, poised over his cock, and grabbed his face. It was then I noticed my nails were longer, sharper, thick like claws.

  “Riadne,” I whispered. “Say it.” One nail pricked his skin, drawing blood. “And then you’ll give me yours, and It’ll be the last thing on our lips as we find release, together.” Leaning forward, my tongue snuck out, raking across that funny snout.

  He shivered, trembling as if I’d just suckled his cock.

  My hips lowered, slowly, and I pressed my heat to the underside of his shaft. Gliding along his length, I licked my lips hungrily. “Puck. Puck... Puck...” I whispered his name breathlessly, teasing him until his cock jerked. The second he started moving I’d tsk him, stop, and start all over. He enjoyed this kind of play, liked the exquisite torture as we drew it out. I was on fire on the inside, giving in when he jerked and his cock head hit my entrance.

  My hips tilted, accepting him, all of him, and I began to move. Reaching for his horns, I gripped them tight, forcing him to obey, his head dipping as my hips pistoned.

  “Addie,” he gasped out, panting, eyes dilated, lids lowered until tiny little slits of magenta were eye level with my breasts, steam wafting from his nostrils bathing my exposed upper half.

  “Trickster,” I groaned, smiling inwardly when he snapped his teeth, grunting with every thrust. “Going to fuck you ‘til it hurts, sweet... Puck,” I whispered, pausing when his movements began to grow erratic.

  Teeth gnashing, chest heaving, he muttered so low I could barely make him out, “Robin. Gods... don’t stop. Robin.” The fae sounded pissed to even have to admit it. “Claim me, vacha. Make this body yours.”

  Unsure if that was Kvigor breaking through or the fae had truly lost what little of his sanity there might have been left, I started up again.

  “Robin,” I whispered, relaxing, allowing nature to take its course.

  Thick hands slid to my ass, the game ruined, and he began pumping up into me in earnest. “Riadne,” he ground out gutturally.

  Slapping his hands away, I moved faster, and faster, until he was forced to stay still and let me have my way or risk slipping free. Or worse, the dreaded broken dick.

  “Robin,” I murmured, yanking his horns up, his mouth level with mine, to nip at his thick lip. He grunted hard, jerking, lapping at my nicked skin, the blood on it still fresh. “Robin Puck... I claim you. I claim you for my own. You will never want another, never call another your own.”

  One hand dropped, swiping the ground, searching for what I wished while he was distracted. It hadn’t escaped my notice he refused to touch my breasts, the piercings on them gleaming in the moonlight.

  My fingers curled around cool metal as we both found our release, our names on each other’s lips. I watched his head fall back, smacking the wall behind him. My hand fell away then, and I slipped the looped ring for my nose through a metal loop. It was some kind of shiny metal, thick but flexible. It would work. I hoped

  As our movements slowed, the euphoric high waning, I lifted my hands, slamming them forward. The chain was around his neck, nipple ring clamping the two halves I’d folded, doubling the necklace up to make a new one, before he could take his next breath.

  “What- Ah!” His bark of pain was unexpected. Eyes flushing, his head jerked. “What- argh- is the meaning of this?!” he demanded.

  Lifting myself up, his semi-flaccid dick slipped free, the cool air hitting his cock tearing an unhappy growl from my companion.

  When he went to reach for me, I tsked, shaking my head. To his disbelief, his hands froze, falling to his sides.

  “What is-”

  “You swore you wouldn’t touch me.” I wasn’t smiling as I sat back on his thighs, my hand pressing to his chest to hold him in place. He snarled, the chain around his neck sending him gasping as if it burned more than iron, though no smoke rose up.

  Dragging the blankets closer, I picked up my shift, tearing strips from it, ignoring the bite of the cold as the heat from our exchange dissipated. Lifting one wide hand, I tied it to the gate, careful of the gate, grabbing the other to secure it to it.

  All the while, the great Puck couldn’t do a thing, gobsmacked, sputtering and stuttering wordlessly. Standing back, I dusted myself off, a fresh fall of snow tumbling down all around us. Picking up my itchy blanket cloak, I draped it over his legs, narrowly missing his legs as they kicked out at me. Next I put the thin fur over his shoulders, draping it over his horns to form a little tent.

  There. That should do it, but- “Ah.” Reaching into my boot, I slipped my knife free. That’s when the body snatching fae really began to squirm then.

  “Really sorry about this,” I said more to Kvigor and the male Robin the fae might have once been. Sliding the knife along his palm, I sliced open his marked hand. Doing the same to mine, right over the black mark across mine, I pressed our palms together. Grinding my palm into his, our blood smeared, mixing. The sharp tingles that raked my palm, skimming up my wrist stung, sharp, jabbing stabs following. Breathing through the pain, I held tight.

  The fae began muttering something under his breath, words in a lyrical sing-song I’d never heard before. As he finished, his eyes flashed gold, flushing black, to settle into that puckish, deep, pansy purple. There was a spike of pain up my arm and straight to my chest, another band around my heart as if to test its ability to sustain the trauma, gone in a flash.

  “Should be more careful who you deal with,” I told the male with a neutral tone. “Have you learned nothing from your former lover? Never underestimate a pissed off woman.” Slipping my dagger back into place, my body humming funnily, though I couldn’t quite put the notion to words, I stepped back.

  Expression carefully blanked, I folded my arms over my breasts. For all the world I seemed cool and dispassionate, impassive. That funny feeling steadily grew, until it had begun to overwhelm me.

  “Riadne,” he managed to bark out, and I saw it then. A purple mist, like the purple dot when my map marking was actually of some use, encircling Kvigor. It grew brighter and brighter, until a form, smaller and ill defined, popped forward.

  The form flickered in and out before coming in clearer. A man, with shoulder length blond hair and small points just at the ends of his ears, a ghost-like embodiment, gaped, wide-eyed, blinking. R
obin/Puck, was something to behold. He was beautiful, maybe even more so than the fae king himself.

  Shrieking, grasping at his chest, the well-formed male slammed backwards. Kvigor gasped, hands fighting their restraints.

  A snarl left my pair bond. “You think to best me?! Get your precious mate back?! I’ll kill him, kill them all! Every male you ever think to love! I will haunt you, overtaking each and every one, torturing them slowly. You won’t even know I’m there, fucking you along with them, laughing in your face,” he spat. Wiggling his bleeding hand, he sniggered. “Have you any idea what you’ve just done, you stupid mortal!” Throwing his head back, he laughed.

  I felt it as if I was feeling it myself though, a phantom pain piercing my chest, pain, fear, a deep sense of longing that wasn’t my own. It was as if I was experiencing his emotions like they were mine.

  Hurt, betrayal, it fizzled through me in waves, leaving me to ride each out until I found my emotions my own. Most puzzling of all to pour through me, heartache, want, and something much deeper, something tinged with a deep seated distaste and disconnect.

  “You can’t love me.” My head shook as I stumbled back. “You can’t possibly...”

  “I will ache for you for all of eternity,” he swore, his eyes glowing with a fearsome, unholy light. “You will come to me in our dreams, begging for me, and it will all be for naught. You think I’ll give up your precious Kvigor now? Now, when I have you under my thumb, right where you belong, sweet Riadne? Mine.”

  His face was lined, expression tight, body taut, twitches and jerks wracking his frame, the tendons in his neck and arm straining. Knowing the ties my shift made wouldn’t hold, I hoped the water from the temple pool I regularly swam in with my shift, hanging my gown up to air dry after, would afford it some extra staying power. It was a stretch, but I was willing to put my faith in anything at this point.

  “Lies.” Turning, arms crossing over my chest, I left, boots crunching in the snow.

 

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