Warden
Of course, I have to wait to be alone with my mate. The food is good and the company not unpalatable. John has spent some considerable time in the Night Lands and wanted to know what was happening with the Faerie, specifically in the Shadow Keep.
I gave him enough information to keep his interest, but not too much. After all, what is trust these days when you can fall through a portal to the Underhill from an unassuming tavern?
Eventually we are shown to our quarters in the rear of the property with exhortations to enjoy their hospitality to the full.
“You look so beautiful.” I gently pluck at the woollen shift Hazel wears, the colours setting off her eyes. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
“Except when John brought out the apple tart.”
A smile steals over my face. “I’d still prefer to taste you, no matter how good it was.”
It was good.
My sweet mate is better. I lift Hazel onto the large bed. The room itself is significantly larger than I’d have thought a cottage like this would have, but Joan had explained they often host travellers passing through on their way to Moranik.
I’m able to swiftly remove the soft leg coverings my mate wears and expose her to me. She is moist in the flickering candlelight and her scent is incredible.
“You know they want us to do this, don’t you?” Hazel says, shivering under my touch as I slide my hand up her creamy thigh until I can dip a finger inside her, making her moan with pleasure.
“All of the Yeavering wants a mated Brag to bless their land,” I rasp, licking my finger clean and feeling my todger practically punch its way out of my trousers. “But what I want is to pleasure you until you can’t scream my name anymore.”
I lap at her. My tongue delves inside her hot channel as Hazel grabs for my horns and I practically mess in my pants.
Her flavour, her scent, her touch are all driving me wild, wilder than ever as I pay particular attention the little pearl underneath the hood and the area which causes her to make a noise I adore.
With a sweet cry, her body convulses and her hands tighten on my horns, her sweet cunt firing her nectar into my mouth, better than any apple tart.
And there’s something else, something which makes my heart flip in my chest and my stomach clench. A new scent, one which penetrates every part of my body.
“Little mare,” I growl. “I need to breed you.”
Hazel raises her head, her eyes half-lidded from pleasure. The moment they meet mine, her delicious pussy runs with her moisture.
“Warden?” she says, her breath coming in gasps. “What’s happening?”
“I rut for you, sweet mare. I have to fill your belly.”
“I’m on fire.”
“Your body wants to be bred,” I growl. “It wants you to present for me.”
Hazel’s eyes roll in her head, and her fingers slide down to her cunt, exploring herself.
“I am…”
“You are soaking for me, for my seed. It will take root.”
I can’t hold my shift any longer. I am in my Brag form, my hooves dancing on the stone floor, the hooves ringing out with my desire to mate my lady.
My todger is bigger and more swollen than ever. Pre-seed drips from it onto the flags. It’s then, through the fog of my rut and desire, I see them. The way the bed has been carved, it is if it was made for a Brag to mate.
“Present for me, my lady.” My voice is hoarse, needy, wanting.
Hazel’s eyes are clouded, dreamlike, but confused. Her brow sets into a set of lines as she lifts herself up and rolls over.
It is more than enough for me. Instinct takes over as I draw her up to the footboard, lifting her stomach and legs until she is in the correct position, her rear raised and her head down. My pre-seed splatters on the floor as I take her in.
“Such a perfect sight, presented for your Brag,” I growl. “Your pretty pink cunt waiting to take all of me.”
Hazel shakes and whines.
I slide my hooves into the carved notches, fitting me perfectly, and place my todger right at her entrance. The broad head slides against her soaking slit.
“Take me,” Hazel groans. “Take me and fill me, Warden.”
I drive forward, breaching her tight hole with a roar of her name which can surely be heard in the Night Lands. I reach up to grip the top pole of the bed as I withdraw and thrust back inside her.
“I am going to breed you until you are swollen with my seed, little mare. Breed you until your belly is filled with our foal, then I’ll breed you more as you lie ripe and rounded with young.”
Beneath me, Hazel gets wetter and wetter. I drive deeper and deeper.
I never want this to end.