"You sense no sign of the Hunt?"
Herne's frown deepened. What remained of Edric and his band were in there somewhere, lurking beneath mouldering logs or in some dark gully, where clear spring-water would drain to a putrid swamp.
"No," he said. "There's nothing to fear. They will scare and harry no more."
He raked his gaze over Tam, his auburn hair thick and shining, his complexion ruddy. Tam's jacket clung to broader shoulders, his chest and hips thicker than those of the young village boy who had unwittingly ensnared him last summer. This spring, Tam blossomed too.
He would never understand the ridiculous frill-furnished collars worn by the men and warriors of this strange modern age—including Tam, who bore a lace-falling band about his throat, won through hard bartering at a village market. Then again, Herne recalled Crea's thrill long ago at a solid silver band that he'd worn clasped about his neck, glistening in the pale winter sunlight.
Herne had mocked that too. What ancient history Crea now seemed, although he concluded his objection to Tam's dress might have little to do with his advanced age. He'd always been a plain-living, surly old cur.
"I will miss you," he growled, pulling Tam close and then tugging the offending collar from his throat. "Even for a day. But I won't miss those garish clothes, because I always prefer you naked."
"Oh, yes?" Grinning, Tam slid his hand to the bulge at Herne's loins, which stiffened in partnership with the tingling pressure in his skull. Tam squeezed him mercilessly, then raised himself up, running his tongue along the seam of Herne's lips.
And Herne dragged Tam into a smouldering kiss that deepened as his antlers burst erect. He twisted his hands in Tam's hair, rubbing his thigh against Tam's hardening length—until, with a hoarse cry, Tam tore free and ran off through the heather.
"Tam?"
Tam did not look back. He called, breathless, "If you want me naked, you'd better catch me and rip the rest of these clothes off."
The words seemed playful, but Tam's voice sounded scared. Mildly perplexed, Herne made chase, but Tam flew faster. The edge of the forest loomed close before Tam stopped suddenly, still a few yards ahead of Herne, and turned.
Stamping his foot, he folded his arms in a gesture caught between defiance and self-defence. A small pair of antlers jutted above the line of his hair.
"I wondered if this was coming," said Herne, closing the gap between them with three swift strides. A young buck's indeed, soft, downy velvet covered Tam's creamy antlers, each split into several neat branches. Herne experienced a sudden urge to lick them. Maybe later. He might have to tie the lad's hands behind him first, judging from the way Tam groped his new appendages.
"Do I look strange?" Tam winced.
Herne took his chin, tipping his face up, and Tam dropped his hands to his sides. His grey-green eyes sparkled in the afternoon light, and Herne swallowed back the lump in his throat. "You've never been more handsome, lad."
He matched Tam's burgeoning grin with his own, even as Tam turned, yelping, to run again. Herne dived for his legs, and they tumbled to the ground together, his arms wrapped about Tam's thighs.
The heather crushed beneath them, scratching them as they grappled, and they stripped their clothes from each other. Tam writhed, and Herne hauled him back by his legs and flattened him into the scrub. Tam wriggled his arse against Herne's cock, which throbbed in anticipation of being warmly sheathed within.
"I'm going to have to fuck you here and now," he growled, grinding in time to Tam's arching. He pressed a nibbling kiss to the back of Tam's neck, tasting skin sweeter than the heather. "I warn you, lad, it's going to be rough."
Then, lightly elbowing Herne away, Tam rolled over so he faced him. Two sets of antlers clattered together and knocked Herne back over an inch.
"You're going to have to fight me for it, whether I want to resist you or not." Fists clenched, smiling savagely, Tam threw his arms above his head. "You ready?"
No clashing antlers kept Herne the Hunter from his quarry. Once he'd imprisoned Tam beneath him, Herne's threat of ropes made the lad fidget and plead for everything and anything, their antlers growing ever more rampant.
Herne pinned Tam's arms down and hitched his legs up, then fucked his boy hard, striking the parts that set Tam weeping with joy, heedless of the scrub tormenting any exposed flesh. Tam squeezed about him, his channel like moistened velvet, and Herne hurtled toward bliss.
Beyond, the forest glowered, shrouded in morning mist. Herne saw only his lover, Tam's features etched with exquisite ecstasy, his lips parted as he gasped in pleasured pain.
No, Herne could never lead the Wild Hunt sweeping across England again. He'd always rush home to fight for this.
FIN
Coming Soon from Less Than Three Press
Lord of the Forest
Robin Hood is losing his greatest battle—against time. His band of outlaws is broken, and he fights injustice alone, denying his famous name and mourning the friends he's lost. When, within a single day, he rescues a beautiful forester, Cal, from a violent baron and from the clutches of the fae, Robin is equally attracted and suspicious.
Cal's a royal spy, bent on seducing and betraying Robin. But the simple assignment proves instead to be tricky when Robin becomes both his lover and the truest friend he's ever known. When they set out to thwart the ruthless Baron Odo, Sheriff of Nottingham, their tentative bond is tested by magic's wildest forces, Robin’s past, Cal’s lies, and in Odo's deepest dungeons.
To survive, they must embrace their shared destinies, intertwined as they are with forest enchantment… and the very fabric of history.
About the Author
Kay's been making up romance stories with m/m protagonists since the days before the internet, before she’d any idea what sex was, and when she believed she was the only little girl who did so.
She recently started writing her stories down again after a two-and-a-half year hiatus. Her sexy new romance tales contain an unholy concoction of fun and fantasy (dragons, fairies, and mermen, anyone?) alongside a strong dose of angst and hurt/comfort.
She is a bit of a social media recluse (sorry!) but loves to connect with readers. You can email her at [email protected] and she lurks on twitter a little – @kayberrisford.
Website: http://kayberrisford.com
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