Page 59 of Untethering Dark

Relief was her first reaction, which was then immediately drowned by sheer panic and embarrassment. Scheiße! Now he knew she’d been watching.

Gudariks turned around fully, cock jutting out in front of him, dripping red. Upon closer inspection—yes, she was thatshameless—it was too bright and viscous to be blood, the consistency more like sap tapped from a tree.

Mutter Holle, he was glorious. When he breathed, powerful muscles rippled beneath short, dark fur. And yet, despite the brute strength of him, he held himself with a regal, long-limbed grace.

So many contrasts existed in this one being.

Predator, prey. Tender suitor, ruthless hunter.

She drank him in, absorbing every detail of his body. How the setting sun painted the white bone of his face in its warm hues. And how the mighty rack of antlers that crowned his head mirrored the trees around them, reaching toward the sky with their naked branches.

Were they made in his image, or he theirs?

Stars above, she didn’t know. All she did know was that if he touched her right now, she’d melt straight to the ground, begging for a taste.

A bead of cum rolled from tapered tip down the underside of his shaft. Begging to be licked and sucked clean.

Gudariks openly appraised her, daring burning in his eyes, completely unashamed of his just spent state. And waited.

“Why’d you run?” Astrid set down the thermos and took a step closer.

His cock twitched. “I lost control. Won’t happen again.”

Another step. “What if I want you to lose control?”

He growled, clawed hands flexing like he was thinking about snatching her up. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I know exactly what I’m asking.” Astrid’s voice was firm. Bacchanals were not for the faint of heart, and some of her favorite memories were of debauchment. “I want to be hunted. Chased down. Have the clothing ripped off my body. I want you to pound me into fresh fallen snow until I forget my name or what my limbs feel like.”

Give me your ferocious desire.

He went very still.

Then he chuckled, a cheerful, teasing rumble. “I’ll keep that in mind, but for now, let’s keep it simple?”

She nodded slowly, unsure what “simple” meant to him.

Though she hadn’t expected a paleolithic forest god to turn down an offer for primal sex, it wasn’t fair for her to assume he’d jump at the opportunity. The satyrs, despite their promiscuous reputations, were the same way. Some came to Bacchanals for the drunken revelry, others the sex. While many came for both, not all did.

“I can see I’ve disappointed you. How can I make it up to you?”

Her eyes dipped down, lip folding between her teeth. She had something in mind. But what if he rejected her next suggestion, too? Maybe she wanted too much, too fast. “I’m not disappointed,” she replied. “I just don’t know what to ask for.”

“You know exactly what you want.” He pinned her with a smoldering, sanguineous gaze. She should’ve known that a being such as him had lived far too long to be fooled by a flimsy lie. “I’ve a feeling I’ll quite like whatever has turned your cheeks so red.”

Her skin heated even more, but not with embarrassment this time. As her gaze settled below his waistline, openly appreciating what he had to offer, she touched her fingers to her lips. Her mouth watered—tingled even.

His cock gave an eager little leap.

“Tell me what you want.” The impatient gravel in his voice pricked goose bumps all along her skin, but it was just the encouragement she needed.

“Can I have a taste?”

Palming the base with one hand, he beckoned her forward with the other. “Come take your fill, little witch. I have plenty left to spill for you.”

Despite having just come, his balls had a swollen look to them. Was self-pleasuring routine for him, or did he so desperately need release that once was not nearly enough?

Cheeks on fire, she came forward, watching him pull the scarf from around his neck to lay it out on the snow.

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