Page 34 of Beneath Hoof and Hollow
“Technically, I’m a monster.” He winks at me.
“Thank you,” I murmur against his carved mouth. There are more than a few shocked whispers at our public display of affection. My hands roam him freely as relief washes through me.It’s over.
When I pull back from the kiss, the fire in his eyes is burning green. Fierdon abruptly turns, leaving me standing with heat clawing up my throat.
He mounts Horace, turns my direction, and takes off. The others scream and scatter as his hoofbeats echo across the cobblestone. I’m staring up at him, the question of where he’s going forming on my lips, when he reaches down and snatches me up.
“You can thank me properly once we’re out of sight of these prying eyes.”
Fierdon
I haul her, mid-stride, up into the saddle so she’s facing me.
She squeaks out as the breath rushes from her lungs. The crowd parts easily enough and I urge Horace to move faster. We’ve not even made it to the woods when I slide the first vine inside her.
The luxurious feeling of her pussy is tempered by my inability to see it. Dropping the reins with full trust in Horace, I remove my gloves. These monstrously clawed fingers are ugly as hell but serve me well as I tear Emeline’s clothes from her body.
“People can see!” she gasps, still struggling to catch her breath in the whirlwind of movement and excitement. Fabric floats behind us, leaving a trail from the last town home and into the edge of the forest. I push the vine deep enough to make her eyes roll back. Horace is galloping now, his gait hard and fast. Every time his hooves slam into the earth, my vine thrusts deeper. Vine-fucking Emeline on horseback is painfully sexy.
She’s naked, but this close proximity on saddleback is still impeding my view. Another vine shoots around her ankle, lifting it up and securing it to my shoulder.
Frantic fingers clutch my neck as she teeters off-balance.
“Yes.” I groan, finally able to watch my vine as it’s sucked in again and again by her sweet, tight cunt. Saliva drips from my mouth and rains down over Emeline’s lower stomach, drenching her blond curls. My vines slide in and out more easily with the added lubrication.
I need more.
New growth slithers farther back and teases between her cheeks.
Emeline wiggles her hips, her fingers loosening on my neck for a moment. She wants to reach down and pull that vine away, I can sense it. But that’s not going to happen.
“Give into me, Emeline,” I growl out. I want every part, every moment, every gasp, groan, moan, every sloppy, cunt-clenching moment. I want to make her scream and shake from tongue to taint and everywhere in between.
“Fier!” The word croaks out of her as I slip a slender vine between her cheeks. The jarring cant of Horace’s hooves has both vines fucking into her with hard, steady strokes as she’s bounced up and down.
Emeline grinds her hips, her fingers digging into my neck. I grow a smaller vine, dotting it with soft oval-shaped leaves. The first brush against her clit has her hips jerking forward. I press them down and continue flicking in a rapid motion that strokes her clit from base to tip with inhuman speed.
Her breathing turns quick, moans shortening into whimpers. I want to kiss her as she comes but the rough rhythm that’s allowing me to fuck her so easily is preventing me from easily connecting with her mouth. I settle for my tongue around her throat.
Her pulse throbs beneath my tongue as I collar her, lost in the rhapsody of her pleasure. I increase my hold as she comes, cutting off her air and reveling in the tightening of her holes around my vines.
This beautiful woman making a mess on my saddle has bewitched me so fully I can hardly focus. Horace knows the way. He slows just before we reach the border into the haunted section of the western woods.
I dismount before he’s fully stopped, dragging Emeline with me, my vines still milking the last of her orgasm free.
Emeline is unaware of Leed’s presence. He’s strung up, bound to a branch that has him positioned so he’s staring down at us. I have enough vines wrapped around his mouth to ensure he cannot speak. But he can hear and seeeverythingI’m about to do to Emeline.
The vines retract slightly, keeping him hidden in the shadows. I’ll not have my nightingale getting distracted by her ex.
She clings to me, sweaty and quivering as I drop to the ground and free my monstrous gourd cock. My vines empty her, moving instead to spread her legs, pushing them back until her knees are pressed against her shoulders. I need her wide enough to split open to be able to accommodate me. It’s a good thing my nightingale is flexible. The heat of need blinding me right now has removed all worry of breaking her mortal bones.
She’s already wet, but I have foresight enough to spit on her until my hot saliva is pooled in her parted entrance.
Seeds squirt from my tip as my cock pulses, veins writhing along my shaft. “I need this.”
I rut into her. Not a thrust, not a steady sinking. A rut. I rut into her like a fucking animal. That’s what she’s reduced me to. A mindless fucking animal who’s slamming my cock into her like she’s a piece of prey caught in a beast’s snare.
I’mbarely aware of the world around me. My thoughts of Leed and what he must be thinking as he watches me fuck his fiancée into oblivion dull. Green fire brightens, flames shooting from my eyes until I cannot see, cannot think.
