Fifty Years Later
Fawn’s ankle ached.
She groaned, turning over in the nest. The magic she had found thanks to her Skullstalker husband had done many things: slowed her aging to match his, for one.
She should have been stooped and grey, but she was as spry as she was in her twenties.
And of course, it had allowed her body to stretch to fit Zax’s in ways no mortal could reasonably accommodate.
And lastly, her retractable claws and fangs.
But her ankle, which she had sprained so many decades ago before any magic had touched her, still pained her sometimes.
She reached over to Zax. But his side of the nest was empty, with only an indent in the furs and feathers to imply he had been there at all.
Fawn sat up, looking around the treehouse.
It was their third: the second had burned down during an unfortunate anniversary dinner incident.
But by then, they had been thinking about moving anyhow, so it was a blessing in disguise.
This, their third treehouse, had been set up not far from the first. Close enough to see Anderfel mountain in the distance, which meant they could visit two of his brothers anytime they felt like a short trip.
And when they didn’t, then they could summon Slate for a portal.
Fawn climbed out of their nest and raised her voice. “Zax? Love, where are you?”
She did not have to wait long. Moments after she called, Zax came crawling through the window, his purple eye glowing attentively in her direction.
“I was fixing the rainwater collectors,” he said. “What do you wish of me?”
Fawn held up her foot. “My ankle hurts.”
Zax dropped to his knees in an instant. Fawn placed her foot in his hand, and he rubbed it with huge, gentle fingers.
Fawn sighed as his touch slowly soothed the ache. She grew her claws and ran them over Zax’s head, scraping around the base of his horns.
Zax growled contentedly. They stood there like that for a minute or so, him massaging her aches, her sending pleasant tingles through his horns. Then she pulled her foot out of his grasp, and he stood.
“Everything is ready,” Zax announced. “You were right to finish the roof last night. I do not want to do that this morning. We can leave whenever you’re ready.”
“Ready,” Fawn repeated, still addled with sleep.
She yawned, then spotted the packs in the corner of the treehouse and realized what he meant.
Slate had appeared in their treehouse last night, requiring assistance with demons breaking into his void.
Of course, they had agreed, and Slate had told them to meet him at Wick’s cottage over the mountains in three days.
Or possibly a month. Slate lost track of time so easily nowadays.
Either way, Fawn was happy to spend time at that sweet little cottage.
The guest room was always open to them, and her sister-in-law, Briar, never failed to make their trip memorable.
“Right,” Fawn said. She looked around, debating whether she could be bothered with breakfast or if they could eat their supplies on the road. “Let me get dressed, and we’ll go.”
Twenty minutes later, they were headed through the autumnal forest.
“What adventures do you think we will get up to this time?” Zax wondered aloud as they walked through the woods.
“As long as we don’t travel through too many dimensions, I’ll be happy,” Fawn said with a shudder.
Traveling through one dimension was enough.
Throw in a few different voids and, once or twice, even the Hells, not to mention whatever ridiculous pocket dimensions they kept coming up with, and things quickly got so complicated that Fawn would start wondering if she would ever make it back home.
“Whatever it is,” Zax said, “We will be back soon enough. And since I fixed the rainwater stores, we will have ample water for your baths.”
“Good,” Fawn said, eyeing the trees overhead. They were so beautiful in autumn, but it did get cold in that treehouse. Even with the heating charms that Zax had made. She loved her hot morning baths.
Fawn paused to roll her ankle.
Zax stopped to watch her. “Is it hurting again?”
“Only a little,” Fawn replied. She looked around the familiar forest, which she could find her way around blindfolded after so many years of trekking through it.
They were near the glow worm cave. They went there for every anniversary, and Fawn led him in a slow dance that never failed to make Fawn want to cry with gratitude.
She could never have imagined this life when she was stuck in that tiny ditchwater village, washing her husband’s dirty socks and nodding when he spoke and spreading her legs when he requested it.
Every anniversary only made her more glad that Zax had stolen her from that life.
But they were months out from an anniversary, and Fawn wanted more than a dance.
Zax noticed the gleam in her eye. “What?”
“Nothing,” said Fawn innocently. She grew out her claws again, and then her fangs, and smiled at him brightly.
Zax’s tail twitched in anticipation.
“Now?” he asked. He twisted to look in the direction of the cave, which was where so many of these interactions ended.
“We have time,” Fawn said.
She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his chin, then stepped back. The adrenaline was already starting—a warm curl in her gut and a tingle in her feet, getting her ready to run.
“Give me a twenty-second head start,” she said. “Then come for me.”
Zax nodded eagerly. He was always hungry for it, even after they had done this so many times. He loved to play, and this was his favorite game of all.
Fawn turned and sprinted away. Her heartbeat pounded as she picked up her pace. Usually, she didn’t get to the cave before he caught her.
She ran as hard as she could, everything in her lighting up as she convinced her body she was in danger. She spotted the river first, and then the cave, still hidden under a curtain of leaves. She strained, sprinting harder.
Then she heard it. Thumping footsteps, so fast and savage that she never had a chance.
Fawn gritted her fangs and tried to run faster. The cave was so close! She reached out toward the curtain of leaves, straining, her finger barely starting to brush the soft fibers—
Big, hard arms closed around her middle and catapulted her inside.
She landed so hard that it knocked the wind out of her, but she did not scrape against the hard stone.
Zax had wrapped his arms around her to protect her from that.
When they prepared ahead of time, they placed a soft layer of blankets down for her to land on.
But there were no blankets for Fawn this time, only unyielding stone as Zax wrestled her onto her stomach.
Fawn hissed and fought, swiping her claws and trying to bite his hands. He had old bite marks on his chest from these repeated encounters, which he proudly called “love marks.”
“Be still,” Zax said, panting eagerly. “You are no match for me.”
He pinned her down effortlessly. Even with the claws and fangs that his brother’s magic had given her, Fawn could not truly put up a fight against him. And she didn’t want to. She was no one’s prey anymore, but it was fun to pretend sometimes.
Fawn went lax underneath him, panting. “What will you do with me?”
“A good question.” Zax kissed her neck, making her shiver. “What shall I do with my sweet little doe?”
Fawn snapped her fangs at him.
Zax laughed joyously. “Sharp little doe,” he corrected.
He rubbed his hardening cocks against her backside. Fawn bit her lip against a smile as he tapped her hip, a silent question to ask if he was okay to rip her dress. They brought many of them these days for this very reason.
Fawn nodded, her cheek pillowed against the hard rock.
Zax ripped her dress with his eager claws. Fawn struggled against him, as she always did during this part. He even ripped her underclothes, and Fawn tried to remember how many they had stuffed in her pack last night.
“It is pointless to fight,” Zax said, pulling her up onto her knees and stripping her ruined dress away to expose her holes. “You are helpless. I can do whatever I wish with you.”
“But—” Fawn moaned, grinding back against him as he aligned his pointed cockheads against her holes. “You’re so big. You won’t fit. Not even one, let alone both!”
Zax growled against her hair. “You will take me. I can smell how badly you want it.”
“But,” Fawn began again.
Her protest turned into a yell as Zax shoved inside, fast and brutal, no slick to ease the way.
Fawn cried out. It didn’t hurt, exactly—the magic didn’t allow for that.
But the stretch felt impossible, like she really couldn’t take it.
Not to mention the dry drag of his cock in her ass, with only his precum to smooth his thrusts.
He did get deliciously wet, but it would still take a long time for him to get wet enough to make her ass as slick as her other hole.
And they didn’t have time. They never did when they played this game. It was quick and rough, Fawn’s knees biting into the cold stone with each thrust. The cave filled with the sound of Fawn’s cries and Zax’s animal grunts, getting louder and louder as his thrusts grew more punishing.
“I can’t,” Fawn moaned, playing into the game. “Gods, it’s too much! I can’t take it!”
“You are taking it,” Zax panted. He placed a hand on her neck and pressed her down, making her back arch.
“Look how well you take my cocks. I think I will keep you. Would you like that, little doe? Do you want to be taken back and mated over and over until you are filled with me? Would you still use your claws on me, or would you beg for it?”
Fawn whimpered. It was hard to keep the giggle out of her voice, but she did it anyway. For once, she loved playing the role of a meek, helpless woman. Only if they both knew it was a lie. Only if they knew she would claw chunks out of him if she wanted to.
“Even when you tried to bite me, I could smell how much you needed this. You wanted me to catch you. To—to—” Zax cut off with a whine, grinding his cocks deep into her holes. He would not last much longer. Fawn could feel his cocks twitching, twin sensations as he barreled toward release.
There was a familiar heat in Fawn’s gut, too. She reached back and tangled a shaky hand over Zax’s broken horn, gliding her fingers over its beloved grooves.
Zax stifled a roar against her short hair and came. His hips stilled against hers, trembling as he pumped load after load of come inside her.
Fawn started coming after the first spurt. She reached between her legs and touched her clit, each pulse of come inside her dragging a new wave of pleasure through her used body.
Finally, Zax slumped against her. He pulled his soft cocks out and fell to the side, and they both lay there for some time, staring up at the makeshift night sky as their breathing slowed.
Fawn rubbed a slow hand over the love marks on his chest. “Where did you drop the packs?”
“Just outside,” Zax panted. “Just as I pounced.”
“Good thinking.” Fawn was glad he hadn’t stopped to put them down outside the cave. It would have ruined the illusion of the chase.
Zax knelt up and kissed her breasts, which were grazed from the cave floor. Then her knees, which genuinely ached. He pressed one last lingering kiss to her ankle, then stood on wobbly legs.
“I will fetch the packs,” he said. “And a new dress.”
Fawn nodded, not willing to move yet. Her legs felt like liquid. There was still sweat drying in her curls, which she cut short every few years when she decided, yet again, she didn’t like it long.
Zax returned with his loincloth knotted around his waist, packs on his back, and a dress waiting in his hands.
“We can wash in the river before we leave,” he said, draping the dress over their packs. “Do you want me to carry you?”
Fawn nodded. Zax scooped her up, plucking the shredded remains of her last dress from her slick body and stowing them in his pockets to turn into fabric scraps.
Zax carried her toward the mouth of the cave. Fawn could hear the river bubbling merrily outside, waiting for them.
“Can I bathe you?” Zax asked.
Fawn looked up at him. Even after all this time, he was still hungry for it: to be close to her, to make her clean, to do so many things he had dreamed of doing with a spouse for so long before she arrived.
Well, Fawn was here now. And she would never leave him, not for all their days.
“Yes,” she said simply. “I would like that.”
Zax smiled. Then he kissed her forehead and carried her into the early morning sun, where the river waited.