Page 49 of Held

“Damn stuff,” she muttered, poking her skin between the markings. “At least it dried fast. Now come on, we don’t have much time.”

“Time?”

Briar nodded and sat down in a rickety chair in the corner. She poked her legs out of the robe, long and bare.

“You need to get me ready,” Briar explained. “You know how much stretching I need. So you can slide in easily when we’re out there saving these freaky townsfolk from their big, bad mountain.”

Something cold and rocky itched inside Wick’s head. He ignored it and got on his knees, inhaling Briar’s hot, eager scent as he pulled her other leg out from underneath the fur robe.

Briar let go of the robe. It fell away to reveal her naked body, spirals of mud decorating her soft belly. She also took a knife out of her sleeve, placing it down on the ground before straightening up.

“Careful with the mud,” she breathed.

Wick nuzzled her thigh and breathed in. Her scent was stronger now, stronger than the mud on her body and the snow waiting outside.

“Hurry,” she told him, biting her lip against a smile.

She was enjoying this, Wick realized. Just as they had both enjoyed, in some strange way, being fucked against a tree while they had to stay quiet for the hunters. He wondered if she would enjoy being ritually mated in front of this small village.

He did not yet know if he would. The idea made him feel prickly and possessive. But mostly, he was worried about getting attacked. Having mortals around usually meant he was about to get a crossbow pointed at him. Mating with so many mortals around him did not sound appealing. But he would not say no to Briar.

Especially if the mountain’s wrath was real. He did not particularly like this village, but he would prefer not to see it crushed.

He slid his tongue up Briar’s thigh, watching it turn shiny under his touch. It made him wonder what she would look like covered in his come. What she wouldsmelllike.

Wick pushed the tip of his tongue inside her.

Briar groaned, working her hips against him. She reached up to touch her breasts, then grimaced. “Ugh. Stupid mud.”

Wick looked up to see her twisting her nipples carefully. Usually, she would be squeezing them, but there was mud circling her nipples.

“Come on,” she urged.

Wick pushed his tongue deeper. Her slick flesh parted around him, squeezing his tongue eagerly.

“Yes.” Briar tipped her head back, resting against the fur draped over her chair. “Stretch me out, sweetheart.”

Something warm curled inside Wick’s chest. Soft and gentle, nothing like the dangerous haze of the blood frenzy. It had been happening more and more with Briar’s pet names. It felt less like she was trying to be charming, as with the wink, and more like she was truly fond of him. Friends, just like they agreed.

Perhaps even more than that.

Briar clutched his horns. Her eyes flew open, her head coming up to watch him.

“This is so strange,” she said. “I can’t see them, but I can feel them.”

Wick rumbled, thrusting his tongue deeper. His mouth pooled with spit, and he had to fight the urge to plunge his tongue as far as it could go. He always wanted more with Briar: to hold her down, to take, todevour. His primal impulses had never been so fun until she showed up.

“I miss them,” Briar continued.

Wick looked up, surprised. He had assumed that his monstrous traits were tolerated, nothing more. But there was nothing fake in Briar’s expression, her eyes falling shut in bliss as he worked inside her.

“Good to have something to grab onto,” Briar continued. Her legs jerked around him as he laved at that sweet bump inside her that never failed to make her writhe. “A-and your tail. Like when it wraps around my leg when you’re fucking me. Like you can’t get enough—oh!”

She trailed off in a gasp as he pressed forward, the end of his skull mask bumping into her clit.

“That’sit,” Briar said with a victorious grin. “Am I getting loose enough for you? Can I take your cock yet?”

Wick growled, gripping her thighs even more tightly. His cock pulsed under his loincloth, already leaking from the thought of sinking into her hot, wet warmth. She was always so tight, no matter how much he stretched her beforehand. Always squeezing down around his cock so beautifully, stretching around his girth.

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