Feillor: God of Lammas (Sons of Herne, #6)

by J. Rose Allister

  He reached down to yank off the loin cloth, and then there was nothing between them. She couldn’t help it, she groped for his hard cock immediately, squeezing the wide, long shaft and feeling it pulse in her fingers. He let out a loud moan at her touch, then pushed his fingers into her pussy curls. She was so wet for him, she knew, feeling her slick juices as he glided along her slit and drove into her. She thrust her hips against him, working his cock up and down in the same rhythm he used in and out of her throbbing heat.

  “Now, Feillor,” she begged, trying to pull his stiff erection against her pussy. “Please make love to me.”

  With a growl, he pushed her onto her back and settled himself between her thighs. “Your hunger tries my patience,” he said, nibbling at her throat. “But I wanted this to last.”

  “Next time,” she said, pushing her hips upward. “Just take what we both need right now.”

  He paused at that, and she saw a flicker in his gaze at the mention of their being a next time, as though this wasn’t some singular ritual. The tip of his cock brushed her clit, and she grabbed his hip, hoping to force him inside her. With a wicked smile, he shook his head and pressed kisses down her neck, circling her nipples with his tongue and biting them playfully, and then he licked his way down her belly toward her wet, aching pussy.

  She drove her hand through his hair and arched her back, pressing her hips to his face when he ran his tongue along her slit. “You taste of something far beyond this realm,” he said, flicking the tip back and forth over her clitoral bud until she bucked against him. “Sweeter than Avinar honey.”

  He spread her nether lips with his fingers, plunging his tongue inside her and rubbing her clit until she neared the edge, and with a desperate moment of panic, she tried to push his head away.

  “Wait,” she said. “I won’t be able to hold back if you don’t stop.”

  He growled and drove two fingers inside while clamping his mouth down over her clit.

  “God!” she cried out, and climax overtook her. She was helpless to do anything other than shudder uncontrollably while she rode it out, both ecstatic at the pleasure and disappointed that he’d practically forced an orgasm out of her before he buried his cock deep. She’d wanted to come while he’d been fucking her.

  She was still writhing in hot need when he rose up, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm. His eyes were still glittering, but they had gone darker now, and her heart wobbled in her chest when he slid up her body and positioned his dick where she was dying for it most. If only her other hand weren’t still bound to his. She wanted both hands free to clutch at him, grind on him until he gave her what she craved. But then, that binding held them together, and part of her wished the handfasting could keep them joined forever.

  He hesitated with his wide cock head barely stretching her entrance, staring down at her, and for a moment, she saw the hesitation. Maybe now, at the very end, he had changed his mind. Maybe he wasn’t going to thrust inside her after all.

  ***

  Feillor stared down at Salina, almost out of his mind with animal lust, his cock ready to explode the moment her hot, wet pussy enveloped him. Her beauty took him whole, the sight of her ripe body beneath him, her long hair splayed out seductively on the mossy earth. At the sight where their hands were joined to the sacred bread, power flowed between them unlike any he’d known during a Lammas ritual. No doubt because his enchanting witch had magic of her own.

  Her flushed cheeks and glazed, wild eyes added to her sexy, ethereal beauty, but there was a feral nature about her while she thrust her hips in an attempt to get him inside her. No woman, mortal or not, had ever shown him such hunger, such raw need for his possession. And she wanted more than just this ritual, she’d said as much. She wanted additional lovemaking. She wanted all of him when Lammas was through.

  Gods help him, he wanted it too.

  He’d wanted to rip Mars apart, tear him right out of his destructive machine when he’d been up there, toying with Salina. Then he’d caught a whiff of the chemical that was a clue to his guilt, and the thought that his greed might have killed Salina had filled him with barely contained rage. How dare he threaten his woman, Feillor had thought.

  His woman.

  Now, as he hovered over her, he knew what had taken hold of him. One thrust with his cock, one plunge into her depths, would seal that fate forever. He knew it deep in his gut.

  He shut his eyes, hearing whispers far off in his thoughts. Claim her, they said. Take what you long for and cement the handfasting that binds you only to her wrist.

  “What’s wrong?” Salina asked. His eyes opened to find hers gazing up, smoldering with passion but edged in concern.” Why are you stopping?”

  He shook his head, unable to answer.

  She reached up, the backs of her fingers stroking down his cheek. “Please.”

  That single plea unhinged him.

  With a long, hard thrust, he buried himself inside her down to the root, his cockhead against her womb as his mouth sought hers. He silenced her worry with his tongue, teasing hers with insistent strokes while he pulled almost all the way out and plunged down again. They were one now, grinding and moaning, their energies swirling palpably around him in the air. The magic was so thick he could hardly breathe it in. Faster, harder, he made love to the woman he knew he had fallen for. Driving deep, kissing her, then throwing his head back, the god of Lammas gave himself over to something far greater than a celebration of harvest.

  He heard her whisper just as he felt his balls tighten, preparing to shoot his seed when the first spasm of climax came.

  “I love you,” Salina murmured, almost under her breath, but loud enough for a god to hear. She seized up and came, her pussy walls milking him, urging him to bring forth his god seed.

  Ritual demanded that he pull out to release the initial spurt of fluid onto the earth, but removing himself from her tight, climaxing pussy was a challenge he almost could not bear. Still, he managed just in time for the first eruption to spill onto the soft, springy ground between her legs.

  His finishing prayer for a bountiful new season, delivered while his face was nestled between Salina’s breasts, shifted into the fervent hope of a future together. He plunged back inside her, his entire body shuddering while he spent the remainder of his climax against her womb.

  “Feillor!” she cried out, hooking her feet around his back. She pulled him deeper and writhed against him.

  He saw the joining in that moment for what it was, the truth that he and Salina were already one in a way his parents had never known. They would be together, the power of his immortal seed extending her life span, for ages to come. Perhaps they would bear children. She had declared her love for him, and they had given over to a total, unhindered surrender of their bodies. She had accepted all that he was, and he had opened himself to take it. The power of such a joining meant his god seed could even now be fertilizing her with new life.

  His orgasm subsided at last, a sense of fulfillment replacing the expenditure of energy that he had just sent forth to the universe. He collapsed beside Salina, his heartbeat heavy in his chest and a smile on his lips. She was his now, and he was hers. He could still feel her inside him, her magic filling him and entwining with his own even after their bodies were parted.

  Had the Fates done this to him? Had they somehow put him under a spell, manipulated everything from the beginning? Perhaps, in part. But it was more likely that they knew Salina could enchant him on her own. All they needed to do was put her in the path of Feillor’s scythe, and his own heart would do the rest.

  He reached over to release their bound hands, but Salina grabbed his wrist. “No,” she said, rolling over on top of him. “Don’t. This can’t be over. I won’t let it be over.”

  She slid her hips down, finding his twitching rod when she reached between her legs. His waning erection responded to her command immediately, stiffening in her palm. Farther down she went, her mouth tracing a line of fire f
rom his nipple down along his abdomen to his pulsing dick.

  “Salina,” he murmured, gritting his teeth when her hot breath blew over the sensitive tip of his cock. “What are you doing?”

  “The same thing you did to me.” She licked the length of his shaft, and his entire body stiffened. “If we only have this ritual, it’s going to be the longest, most memorable ritual you’ve ever done.”

  He wanted to tell her that it already had been, but she swallowed his cock and sent his senses soaring. Oh, how he wanted to let her suck him dry. His hips pumped upward of their own accord, but all he could think about was how badly he wanted to be inside her. He took hold of the veil pendant, tugging the double cord to lengthen it, and pulled her up over his chest.

  “Next time,” he managed, pushing his cock between her legs while he wrapped the pendant so it circled both their necks. “And perhaps several times after that.”

  With a brief focus on his desired destination, he opened his eyes to find them together in the sacred field.

  Salina sat up with a sigh, straddling his belly with her hair blowing on a breeze. The strands were golden, the shade of the wheat waving around them, so seductive that he couldn’t bear not being inside her. He gripped her hip and settled her so she was positioned over his aching cock. She sank down with a moan from them both, her breasts pert and bouncing when she began to move, fucking him with abandon. The seductive beauty threw her head back and let out a laugh that fired his need. So, this was the sort of laughter she meant when she’d teased him about enjoying sex before? He could handle that.

  He grabbed a handful of her breast and smiled up at her, letting her pump her hips until they both cried out in release. The sun set on Lammas with the two of them still coupled, Feillor again on top of her, the wheat ruffling softly while the god of harvest planted his seed inside the woman he loved. And when he cried out with the last orgasm, his love for her was shouted out for all of his realm to hear.

  ***

  It is rumored among pagans that the gods of old, those who still set foot on the earth, are most often seen in the forests among the nature they rule and revere. One of these in particular, a horned god with reddish-brown hair, has been glimpsed walking the woods with a powerful enchantress—his beloved consort. The laughter of their children often accompanies these sightings, along with the aroma of wheat fields and hearty baked bread. But beware to those who come to destroy the beauty of the woods, for they may encounter a different god altogether. The horned god with glowing yellow eyes and a glittering scythe appears out of nowhere to issue a stern warning: the woods where he roams are not for the conquering of man. It is a place for humans and immortals alike to embrace the ways of peace, love, and magic.

  *The End*

  ✯ ☆҉‿➹⁀☆҉☆ ✯ ☆҉‿➹⁀☆҉☆

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  Read on for a look at the next tale... Anduron: God of Mabon:

  ABOUT ANDURON: GOD OF MABON:

  He frees those who are unjustly imprisoned...but can he release his captive heart?

  The Fates have brought the sabbat gods—even Anduron’s own twin brother, Feillor—to their knees over carnal desire. But Anduron, god of Mabon, will not be similarly seduced. He needs only one thing from the Fates: the power to free one who is unjustly imprisoned. This act is performed yearly to honor his sabbat—and a vow he made as a child. He offers freedom to a woman who in turn joins with him in an erotic ritual of thanksgiving, but when he comes upon an old woman in need of rescue, he knows that saving her will mean skipping the usual rites. Or will it?

  Jenna is worried sick when her grandmother shows up late with a handsome stranger on her arm and tales of how Anduron saved her from a mugging. Jenna is grateful, quite possibly to the point of swooning, until he returns with a proposition for the worst first date she's ever heard of. He claims to be the god of the pagan Thanksgiving, and he wants her to show her gratitude for his help by sleeping with him. The sheer nerve should prompt her to shove him out the door, but those eyes and that hard body has her aching and curious. She proposes an alternative: he woos her like a normal man, and if he succeeds, she’ll join his Mabon ritual.

  Anduron has little experience courting a woman, especially one as infuriating as Jenna. She rejects all his overtures until she finally confesses what she wants most: a freedom raid could cost him more than he bargained for. With no guarantee that she will accept his gesture, he will risk much to sate his desire, a longing for Jenna that has grown beyond fulfilling his duty.

  Titles in the Sons of Herne Series:

  Book 1-Dominus: God of Yule (Nov 2015)

  Book 2-Eradimus: God of Imbolc (Jan 2016)

  Book 3- Tallisun: God of Ostara (Mar 2016)

  Book 4- Jorandil: God of Beltane (Apr 2016)

  Book 5- Devinmar: God of Litha (May 2016)

  Book 6- Feillor: God of Lammas (Jul 2016)

  Book 7- Anduron: God of Mabon (Aug 2016)

  Book 8- Archipellus: God of Samhain (Sept 2016)

  VISIT THE SERIES SITE:

  HTTP://TINY.CC/SONSOFHERNESERIES

  AUTHOR SITE:

  HTTP://JROSEALLISTER.COM

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  J. Rose Allister has penned over twenty-five novels and numerous short stories from her home in Southern California. She is a TV and movie buff, enjoys the bittersweet discord between the pursuit of chocolaty goodness and the benefits of a fresh, organically-influenced diet, and is a firm believer that daydreaming, people watching, coffee and chocolate (preferably combined) are the greatest fuel for the writing imagination. She has more books in her to-be-read pile than she can ever hope to find time to sit and enjoy, but this never stops her from adding more.