Hazel
My body has a mind of its own. This position seems as natural as can be as the great form of my Brag thrusts himself in and out of my soaking pussy, the nodes on his cock even larger than before, scraping over my channel until one by one they hit my g-spot, sending my pleasure spiralling.
I’m so wet, so slick with my own moisture, I can’t believe it’s all from me. Warden stretches me wider than ever, and I am on the cusp of pain, diminished only just by the mere ecstasy of him plundering my body as if it belongs only to him.
With every movement, I’m brought closer and closer to my climax. The bed beneath me shakes as he ploughs on, his movements perfect, rhythmic, designed to give me everything I need and more.
Warden groans my name and it’s too much.
My orgasm pulses through me. I’m gripping at his cock and through what seems like a veil, I hear him roar.
There is a deep, grinding stretch, and hot cum paints my insides as I continue to rock and moan.
Heat flows through me as Warden buries himself deep within me, more and more flowing from him, and with this position, it only has one place to go.
I am being filled to the very brim by my great centaur. And then I’m being filled some more. Warden continues to thrust and thrust, my orgasm continues, or it merges into another. I’m not sure and I don’t care. My vision is dimming as pleasure overwhelms me.
Because this is not the last time Warden will rail me in this fashion. I want more, I want him over and over again. I don’t want him to stop…
As the ecstasy morphs into contentment and Warden’s movements lessen until he ceases entirely, a pair of warm arms snake around me, pulling me against him as I’m lifted from my position onto the bed.
“My sweet mate,” Warden rumbles in my ear.
“Don’t stop,” I rasp, my voice hoarse with calling his name…no, screaming it.
“I won’t, my lady,” he responds. “I rut for you, and until your womb is filled, I am unable to stop.”
Heat flushes through me. “Good,” I reply, shuffling myself back at him and, with some satisfaction, making him pulse once again.
“I hope you’re ready, little mate,” he says, face buried in my hair.
“Always, for you.”
We should leave in the morning, but we don’t. Instead we make love, fall into a stupor of bliss, recover, and do it all over again.
John and Joan leave food at the door, seemingly unbothered by our continuing presence, by our carnal behaviour which does not stop, just like Warden promised.
We create more pleasure. We create it time after time. My body can’t get enough of Warden, and he can’t get enough of me. In the times when we are not mating, we are eating or passed out, only to rise and recommence where we left off.
Sometimes, briefly, Warden leaves me. He comes back with a bowl of warm water and cleans me up despite my protests. All I get are rumbled growls and strong hands which won’t take no.
Eventually the fog lifts and our desires ease.
“How long have we been here?” I roll onto my back and sigh.
I feel like I’ve won the best race of my life. Tired and satisfied.
“It has been four days,” Warden replies.
He is also on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, his hair wild, as presumably mine is…because we’ve been here…doing only one thing for four days.
“Four days,” I repeat.
“A Brag should rut for longer,” Warden says. “This is my first rut, and I fear it was not enough.”
“How much longer?”
“Five, six, seven days.” Warden sighs.
“Believe me, Warden. Four days was more than enough for me to experience your first rut,” I respond. “Humans don’t have ruts.”
“But you presented for me. You were perfect,” Warden rasps. “I should have rutted longer.”
I prop myself up on my elbow and study him. He stares at the ceiling until he feels my gaze and turns to look at me.
“I shouldn’t have?” he queries.
“Warden, I love whatever you do to me. Like I said, humans don’t rut. It doesn’t matter how long it was as far as I’m concerned.”
He rolls over swiftly, far swifter than a creature of his size and bulk should be able to do, his massive hand sliding over my stomach.
“I hope it was enough,” he says. “Because I want to have put you in foal.”
“Do you really mean that?” My own doubts, born of still not knowing why I’m here in the Yeavering, why I was the landlady of a tavern in the Night Lands with a missing memory and no desire to do anything other than my job, a feeling of disassociation, of things not being entirely right and real.
“Do you really want to have a baby with me?”
“More than anything,” Warden replies. “You are my soul mate, my Hazel. I knew it the first moment I set eyes on you at the tavern, but I didn’t know what it was until we ended up in the Underhill.
I cannot be without you. Not now, not ever.
Knowing you are in my life lights it up like an aurora.
You are my moon and my sun. You are what turns my night into day, my lady.
” He takes my hand. “And my nights have been too long, until now.”