Anduron: God of Mabon (Sons of Herne, #7)

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Anduron: God of Mabon (Sons of Herne, #7) Page 11

by J. Rose Allister


  “I can’t wait anymore,” she said when he pulled away.

  His sentiments exactly.

  He settled himself on top of her, his wet cock pressing her entrance. His plan, which he had thought a great deal about since the moment he knew he wanted her as his sabbat mate, was to extend her torment by controlling his possession of her pussy, sinking in inch by inch. By the time he was there, poised right at the damp nirvana he craved, all of his plans went straight to hell. He plunged in hard, grunting with the shove of his hips until he was bottomed out against her womb. She stiffened and let out a moan that tightened his ball sac, and he paused there, feeling the walls of her pussy clamped around him while praying that his pulsing dick could hold out. The jungle beat throbbing through his length, however, warned that he might come before he wanted.

  Her hips wriggled around, and she gave little whimpers of frustration, her chains clanking, while she tried to get him in motion.

  “So impatient,” he said with a teasing smile. “This is a ritual, not a nooner.”

  Her eyes, which had been shut tight in concentration over her wild efforts, flew wide. “You know what a nooner is?”

  His mouth twisted in a half grin. “Surely you do not think humans invented it?”

  Now he pulled out, slower this time, until his wide head stretched her opening. He saw her clutching at the altar cloth, holding her breath while he captured her stare.

  “Please don’t tease me,” she said. “I need you.”

  His chest swelled, as did his cock. “Oh, Jenna,” he murmured. “You have me.”

  With that he gave her what she wanted, what he needed, driving his hips into her. The sensations charging up his shaft threatened to drown him, pull him to a place that swept away all reason. While he made love to the woman who had both captured and freed him, he watched her face, assessing her reaction to each push of his hips, learning to grind his pelvis just so in order to best stimulate her clit. He took hold of her breast and nipped at it, claiming her lips every now and then to swallow her loud moans. His balls were drawn up, threatening to release, but he gritted his teeth and gave her more of himself, plunging deep, her gasps and moans telling him how close she was rising to the top. The timing needed to be perfect.

  With some experimentation, he found that gyrating his hips side to side and biting down on her nipple got her there, and just as she was tightening up, every muscle going stiff in preparation of orgasm, he stopped, reached out with his hands and his magic, and took hold of her chains.

  “Yo shai a Mabon fadesta hana ro goyo,” he cried out, his voice ragged and breathless. “Y yo shai imayama hana. I have seen your chains, and I release you.”

  He pushed out with his magic, energy flowing into the links that bound her to the harvest. They weakened and came free, the ends dangling from her wrists as she took hold of his head and pulled his mouth to hers. She practically devoured his lips, her tongue plunging in, and with a rough growl, he shifted and flipped them over, putting her on top of him.

  “You are free,” he said, gazing up at her wild beauty. “Let me finish releasing you.”

  Jenna lowered herself onto his cock, driving it up high inside, letting out a moan of relief when he was again buried in her pussy. She rode him hard, her breasts glistening with sweat as they bounced. With her head back, she grabbed his hands and pulled them to her breasts, holding his palms in place to support them. He pinched her nipples and watched her mouth open in silent gasps that turned to animal grunts.

  “I’m close,” she said, working her lush hips in circles over his groin. “I want to come.”

  “Let go, my beautiful Jenna. Give into that freedom.”

  She shouted out his name and seized up, head still thrown back, frantically bouncing on his dick while she rode into climax. He came immediately, her power over him too potent to defend against. They clutched one another and shared the rhythmic waves of ecstasy. She leaned down and kissed him near the end, while they still shuddered.

  He wound his fingers through her hair. “I am in love with you,” he murmured. “I would share this rejoicing with you always.”

  “My partner in crime,” she said, her motions stilling. “The man I love.”

  They clung together, lying in each other’s arms, while the last bits of sunlight dipped low on the horizon. The sky lit up in an explosion of reds and oranges, seeming to honor his final harvest ritual as sabbat keeper. Anduron watched the sunset while stroking Jenna’s hair, lost in thoughts of what the future would have in store. As he considered the words of Mabon as well as his lover’s desires, he smiled in the knowledge that what lay ahead would be a bright new beginning indeed.

  ***

  It is said that in the time when the gods returned to earth, there was one with an elven appearance and a stealthy step who would appear to those who had been unjustly imprisoned. Often with his human mate by his side, the god with silver and gold eyes would spring traps and release animals from their cages. Kidnapped children were returned to rejoicing parents. Prisoners of war and terror were delivered from their oppressors. In that year of the Thousand Seasons and well beyond, those who knew the fear of captivity were also granted something more. The hope of freedom.

  ✯ ☆҉‿➹⁀☆҉☆ ✯ ☆҉‿➹⁀☆҉☆

  Read on to find out about the next tale... Archipellus: God of Samhain:

  ABOUT ARCHIPELLUS: GOD OF SAMHAIN:

  How can he ever hope to embrace love...when his very touch brings death?

  Archipellus is the god of Samhain, the holiest—and most dangerous—of all the pagan sabbats. On the night of All Souls, the veil between worlds stretches to its thinnest, and Archipellus must use his incubus powers to draw sexual energy and reinforce the barrier to keep the realms safe. The draining is perilous to humans, so the women he chooses as lovers are already near their crossing into the underworld. With their consent, he will aid their journey in a final moment of blissful release. With this as his destiny, he has no doubt that he alone is immune to the love spell unleashed by the Fates that has consumed each of his sabbat brothers whole.

  Melissa Jacobs walks in to her terminally ill sister’s hospital room and is shocked to discover a gorgeous, yet frightening incubus preparing to drain her. She forbids the joining and offers to take the girl's place—on the condition that Archipellus uses some of the power drained in an attempt to heal her sister. The result is a tear in the veil, allowing passage of a truly terrifying creature who steals her only sibling and vanishes into another realm.

  To seal the veil and find Melissa’s lost sister, Archipellus must join with two of his brothers, a warrior friend, and the fiery human lover who refuses to be left behind. When he gives into his desire for Melissa and drains her too far, he must save her at all costs. He will stand at the crossroads between the living and dead to confront the truth about his powers—and the price for using them.

  Titles in the Sons of Herne Series:

  Book 1-Dominus: God of Yule (Nov 2015)

  Book 2-Eradimus: God of Imbolc (Jan 2016)

  Book 3- Tallisun: God of Ostara (Mar 2016)

  Book 4- Jorandil: God of Beltane (Apr 2016)

  Book 5- Devinmar: God of Litha (May 2016)

  Book 6- Feillor: God of Lammas (Jul 2016)

  Book 7- Anduron: God of Mabon (Aug 2016)

  Book 8- Archipellus: God of Samhain (Sept 2016)

  VISIT THE SERIES SITE:

  HTTP://TINY.CC/SONSOFHERNESERIES

  AUTHOR SITE:

  HTTP://JROSEALLISTER.COM

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  J. Rose Allister has penned over twenty-five novels and numerous short stories from her home in Southern California. She is a TV and movie buff, enjoys the bittersweet discord between the pursuit of chocolaty goodness and the benefits of a fresh, organically-influenced diet, and is a firm believer that daydreaming, people watching, coffee and chocolate (preferably combined) are the greatest fuel for the writing imagination. She has more books in her to-
be-read pile than she can ever hope to find time to sit and enjoy, but this never stops her from adding more.

 

 

 


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