by Lexi Lane
His cock throbbed at the sight of her but he hung back. Most humans died after mating with gods. Then again, he was a demigod so she had a chance, he thought, a grin growing on his face. Picking up his flute he moved closer as the other humans began to weave their way back to their village.
Lania trembled with fear as the wind began to blow. Oddly enough it sounded like a faint little melody. Her fingers scrabbled at the knots and she cursed soundly, words she had heard her father and brothers use and would never have dared to say if they were anywhere around for fear of certain reprisal.
She stopped digging at the knots, her senses reaching out to the darkness. There was no wind, she realized. Her skin was untouched by a breeze, no trees or flowers moved.
The tune she heard wasn’t the wind blowing through the reeds but, rather, an actual tune.
Her breath caught in her throat and she felt dizzy as she saw the figure coming toward her. It was a man, or something like a man at any rate. His face was handsome, all chiseled angles and full sensual lips under a head full of black hair.
But there were horns jutting out from his high forehead and while he had powerful shoulders and a trim waist and flat abs he had hairy back legs that could only be called goat-like. That wasn’t all, from his naked groin swung an enormous penis, fully engorged.
Lania screamed. She nearly dislocated her wrists trying to get away. Her feet pressed against the ground and she literally attempted to raise herself up the tree, to climb it while bound to it. In any other circumstances she would have found that amusing but faced with the goat-man she saw nothing at all funny about her plight.
Pan was slightly stunned as no human had ever been able to resist his pipes. His interest was piqued even more by that. He drew closer and began to dance for her, doing a little strutting step designed to show off his powerful hindquarters and cock. She didn’t seem impressed; in fact she shrieked at him at then spat.
The spittle missed him. He stared at her, bemused. Her rage put color in her face, heightening her beauty. That beauty inflamed his lust and he waggled his heavy organ at her. That didn’t get the reaction he expected either. Instead she screamed at him to put that organ inside himself. That confused him, if he could do that he wouldn’t have to spend his time chasing down nymphs and trying to impress her.
Angry and a bit outraged Pan walked up to her and Lania stopped screaming mid-yell. His face held her spellbound: he had humorous blue eyes that contrasted with his black hair in a very appealing way. His lips were curved into a smile that was as sardonic as it was hopeful. A musky scent radiated from him, as sexy as it was strong.
“Let me go,” she said in her most imperious tone.
He drew closer and she shrieked as he stuffed his face into the junction of her thighs and drew a long and appreciative breath. His hands were long, the fingers slender. They were also incredibly strong, proven by him grabbing her robe and ripping it from waist to heel. The jeweled girdle kept it from tearing and exposing her breasts. He remedied that by snatching it off and tearing the robe the rest of the way before stepping back to appreciate the sight of her body.
The moon glowed down on her lush curves, pinpointed the pink tips of her nipples and the slightly darker aureole. Pan’s eyes went to the thick mat of coarse black culrs at the junction of her thighs and one of his slender fingers glided across her there, stopping her heart momentarily.
Lust snakes its way into her belly. She drew a long fiery breath and he came closer, prancing and tossing his head. The starlight threw sparkles off of the curved horns at his forehead and she stared, utterly fascinated, at his large prick. It was too stiff to undulate, instead it jutted up and out an angle and she had the absurd desire to simply lick it.
Her nipples hardened as he tossed the flute to one side and began to stroke that rigid member. Shudders wracked her body and her inner thighs clenched together tightly as she sought some relief from the building pressure within her pussy.
It was a pleasant sensation, that pressure, and when she crossed her legs it increased. She cried out in surprise and pan grinned, coming closer. His nose twitched as he caught the scent of her arousal. He let out a low bleat that made her pussy go hot and liquid. Her hands twisted helplessly against the tree and her back scrubbed against the bark. The rough pain heightened her passion and when he stood before her, his cock trembling, she opened her legs with an involuntary moan.
Pan didn’t need any more of an invitation. She grabbed her legs and raised them off the ground. Lania hung there, her back and ass pinned against the tree, her legs held tightly in his powerful grip. His cock slid up against her wet tunnel’s opening. She looked down in time to see it moving past her outer lips to the pink inner flesh.
Pan thrust forward, too eager to have her to wait. Lania gave off a chilling scream of pure pain as his cock filled her pussy, stretching her walls around his throbbing length. Pain faded quickly, replaced by a pleasure tainted only a tiny bit by a slight burning sensation that came and went with each thrust.
Soon she was arching and thrusting her hips against his, the feel of him inside her making her cry out. His mouth went to her nipples, he sucked and teased them. His talented tongue and teeth forced the taut buds into even higher peaks.
The friction became even more intense as he changed the angle of his penetration by pushing her legs even forther back. Her breath came in hard sharp inhales and exhales as her exposed mound was pummeled again and again. She closed her eyes, her mouth forming a rounded O as squirmy sensations built inside her and then a desperate need arose as well.
She had never felt anything like it, she just knew it was due to the cock plunging into her slit and she wanted more so she began to move faster, encouraging him to do the same. Her cries echoed across the dark hillside and soon his grunts answered hers.
Lania’s pussy gave a strong spasm and a gush of fluid spilled from her. She cried out, her muscles locking into rigidity and her heels hooking around his waist to hold him captive to the clenching and unclenching muscles of her channel.
Pan’s cock gave a hard twitch and thick white seed shot into the human’s pussy. The air was filled with the smells of their sex: sweat and semen and sweet women’s fluids. He rested his head against her slightly dropping breast, careful not to implae her with the tip. Women hated that when it happened. Some even died from it. He decided he did not want to lose the one he had ahold of at that moment, she was the first ever to be able to take the entire length of his cock without protest.
In fact it seemed as if she had enjoyed it.
Pan decided at that very moment to keep her. He was sick of chasing nymphs. They always wanted to turn themselves into trees or reeds or some other such nonsense. It was aggravating as hell, to say the least. The human couldn’t run away, or at least she wouldn’t get very far if she did.
Lania was dazed. The incredible orgasm had taken a toll and she sagged there, her wrists aching with strain while Pan mulled over his plan. Finally he untied her. Pins and needles exploded in her arms and she howled as she rubbed them. He noticed that and led her to a soft mossy covered rock near the water. He used signs to tell her down there.
Lania, not sure what was happening and too drowsy to protest, curled up on the moss.
Pan went into the stream and came back with watercress, which he laid to one side. Next he gathered some very ripe berries and a handful of edible lichens and toadstools. He added in nuts and a large green leaf that he was particularly fond of and took it all back to where she lay.
Lania looked up at him, not comprehending what he was trying to do. He held out the mushrooms and she reluctantly took one. To her surprise it was quite good, almost nutty in flavor. He pounded the nuts together with the berries and made a kind of paste he stuffed into the leaves and offered her one while taking the other for himself.
The simple fare revived her. She sat up, her eyes examining the darkly shadowed forest. The trees dipped their long limbs low and the grass was soft an
d spongy. When he directed her to step into the stream she did. Pain had settled into her nether regions and she sighed blissfully when the cool waters soothed it away.Nightbirds sang and she wondered why she been afraid to be alone at night, it wasn’t frightening at all.
Or, at least it wasn’t with her companion beside her. She pointed a finger at her chest,
“Lania.”
“He’s Pan.”
She jumped and screamed. Spinning around she found herself face-to-face with a devilishly handsome man wearing a black tunic with a gleaming hauberk over it. His long and muscled legs were bare and his feet wore sandals of fine leather.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Mars.”
“Mars?” An incredulous laugh spilled from her lips. “Someone named you after the god of war? What were your parents thinking?”
“That I would be the god of war I suppose.” The answer held sarcasm and his black eyes, as deep and lightless as onyx, held a challenge.
Pan knew the challenge and thought, briefly, about accepting it. However, looking at Mars’ powerful biceps and the sword he carried at his waist he decided that chasing nymphs wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
The last Lania saw of him he was bounding over hedges. “Coward!” she yelled but if her name calling him hurt his pride it didn’t slow him down any.
“Come here.”
“Fuck you.” Lania retorted.
His black brows knit together in a furious line, “You dare say that to me?”
“You have no idea fo what kind of day I’m having.” Lania snapped. “My kingdom was taken by enemies, I walked for weeks only to end up in a village where it seems everyone is either sick or crazy and I just had sex with what I think was a satyr.”
“Actually he’s a demigod. And a satyr. Still if you have to have sex with one go for the most powerful.”
“He didn’t look so powerful fleeing for his life.”
“They never do.” Mars commiserated. “Your kingdom was taken?”
There was a glint in his eye when he asked. She told him about the invading army and he listened and when she finished he said, “You were set out as a sacrifice to the gods but you are supposed to be willing. IF you weren’t here of your own will, as you say, then you owe nothing else.
“However, perhaps you would be willing to trade for a little vengeance.”
Her ears perked up. “What do you mean?”
“If you want to I will strike you a deal. I want you, I want your body for an hour. In return I will give you a weapon that will strike true and strong. With it in your hands you need never fear any man. What do you say?”
“It’s a deal.” Lania said promptly.
“Come over here then.”
She went to him and he told her to get on her knees. Unsure of what was going to happen next she was a bit astonished when he pulled her head closer to him and then pulled his cock from under the bottom of his tunic.
It was long and smooth, ridged with a heavy blue vein that ran across it. The helmet was swollen and purple and the shaft ended in a nest of jetty curls that furred his upper thighs as well. He put one hand on his cock and the other on her head. His cock came closer to her lips, tapped against them. Automatically she opened her mouth.
His cock filled her throat with heated weight. She had to struggle to breathe and saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth. His hisp bucked and jerked, his fingers holding her captive to his thrusts. She caught the rhythm of it and began to enjoy it as well. A stirring in her own crotch made her aware of just how exciting she found sucking his prick.
Mars was aware of her enjoyment as well. Her mouth tightened around him and her tongue flickered along his shaft. Pleasure made his toes curl and he withdrew fully only to thrust harder and more deeply into her mouth.
They were both panting when he shoved her onto the ground and flipped her over onto her belly. He dragged her plump ass high up in the air, his hands holding her hips hostage to his desires. His cock pressed against her opening and she winced as her already abused pussy was opened once more.
His cock slid smoothly against her walls. He dove deeply, enjoying the silky oils that lubricated his passage into her. He withdrew and Lania gasped for more, her ass jerking back at him, her fists beating into the cold ground.
That same friction and tension she had felt while Pan was fucking her bloomed again, sending her over the edge as Mars’ seed splattered her walls and buried itself inside her depths. They both collapsed onto the earth, breathing hard for a few minutes.
Mars stood up and Lania rolled over, her eyes flashing. “You promised me a weapon.”
“And you will have it. In about nine months you will have a babe and that babe will be the best weapon you could ever hold. After all, he will be the son of the god of war.”
“Are you kidding?” Anger flashed through her. “Now I have to take care of myself and a kid too?”
“You won’t be alone.”
With that he was gone. Lania got up and went back to the tree, searching for her clothes. She managed to tie her robes into some semblance of order before heading back toward what she hoped was the village.
She had not gone far when the sound of horse’s hooves topped her in her tracks. A young man with golden hair and tanned skin stared at her from the back of a large white steed, “Are you in distress?”
She gawked at him, not quite believing what she was seeing. It was obvious he was a warrior and well-seasoned one, his armor had knicks and his right arm bore a brutal scar. His face was lean and chiseled and she felt instantly safe.
“I can take care of myself.”
She turned to walk away and he caught her easily by the waist and tossed her across his saddle.
“Nobody as beautiful as you should be in this forest alone.” He said. “You have no idea of what lurks here.”
“Oh I think I have a pretty good idea,” Lania said. Turning her head to look back at the forest she saw pan standing forlornly near the edge of the woods and caught a glimpse of shining armor. She waved at them and they waved back then disappeared into the forest.
Lania turned her face forward, resting her cheek on the broad back of the man carrying her into her future.
Hungry Like The Wolf
Hungry Like The Wolf: Paranormal Erotica
The sound of the surf on the shore woke Layla from a deep slumber. She rolled over, pressing her nose into the lilac-scented pillowcase and inhaled deeply. That smell was one she had grown up with, it was the smell of summer: lilacs in her bed and the tang of salt creeping through the open windows.
She sat up, her slim body shucking off the faded old covers and stretched with all her might. The air coming in was a bit too cool, typical weather for an early June morning on the Maine seashore. She shivered and forced herself to get up, walking carefully, on tiptoe, across the old pine floor to the bentwood rocker where she had tossed her sunny yellow terrycloth robe the night before. Belting it tightly around her waist in order to conceal her boy short panties and camisole she headed into the kitchen and started up the ancient coffeemaker, smiling when she discovered a loaf of bread and a jar of honey in the cabinets.
Twenty minutes later as she was crunching the last of her toast and sipping her second cup of coffee the sound of a car pulling into the driveway caught her attention. She frowned and stood up, her hands going to the disheveled mass of blonde curls rioting around her face and across her shoulders.
The bell rang and she stood there, undecided. A quick peek out the windows showed her it was exactly who she had hoped and feared it would be: Lucas Black, the incredibly sexy Sheriff that she had grown up with and chased like mad as a kid and then as a love-struck teenager. She had wanted to kill him when she had been eleven, he was the jerk that always put frogs in her lunch box at Bible study camp and cut half of one of her braids off when she fell asleep during the wedding of her best friend’s brother.
By the time she had been fifteen she had waite
d impatiently for summer to roll around so she could see his handsome face again. She spent nine months of every year at home in Boston plotting how to get him to pay attention to her.
He had, finally. For one summer, four years ago when Layla had been eighteen, he had been entirely hers, but then he had broken it off abruptly and without warning. It had broken her heart, and now, standing in the kitchen of her grandmother’s homey little cottage she found herself torn between opening the door and asking him in and leaving him to wait on the front porch, shivering in the salty air.
Lucas rang again and through the windows she could see the frown pulling creases into his high forehead. He was as handsome as ever, of course. She had kind of hoped he would have gained weight, went bald or had an eye gouged out by now. She’d even settle for a snaggle-tooth. At the very least he could have looked a bit unhappy or glum as he stood on her doorstep waiting for her to greet him.
Layla started to turn toward the bedroom to get dressed, but with a second thought her hand went to her waist and she deliberately loosened the belt. Hell, she looked pretty good these days; maybe she should show him exactly what he was missing. She pulled her cami-top a bit lower so that the top of one rosy pink nipple was exposed by the ivory lace along the low-cut top and pasted a huge grin on her face, ready to greet her ex lover.
She went to the door and swung it open, feigning surprise at the sight of him. “Oh, Lucas,” she drawled, yawning widely as she offered him her hand. “You’re up early.”
“It’s noon.”
His curt tone was cutting, but Layla ignored it. She was too busy trying to glue her eyes to his. They wanted to wander though: his body was still trim and firmly muscled. His narrow waist and flat abs had always been enough to make her swoon, tucked into his custom fitted uniform. He was sexier than ever, and she felt a betraying trickle between her slender thighs.
“Is it?” Layla didn’t have to fake being startled. His green eyes saw the way her blue darted to the old grandfather clock that had stood in the living room for generations. “So it is. Sorry, it was a very long flight. Service from LA to Maine is not what it used to be.”