Snow & Her Huntsman

by Sydney St. Claire

  Hunter couldn’t get enough. He wanted this to last, go on forever. He loved her breathy gasps, her crazed whimpers, and the trembling his touch set off inside her. Most of all, he loved how easily and wholeheartedly she responded to his every touch. Her clit swelled, and the tiny head peeked from beneath its protective hood, eager to dance with his tongue, and just below, moisture trickled, making him groan.

  His fingers fucked her pussy. The walls of her sheath gripped him hard, pulsating around them, making him wish his cock was buried deep in her glorious, wet heat. He alternated between slow and lazy to fast and frantic, drawing out the pleasure for both of them.

  “Please, Sir,” she wailed. “Let me come. I need to come—”

  He curled his fingers, finding again that rough patch of super sensitive flesh the size of a dime. One touch, and she was writhing and crying out, begging, her desperate sounds music to his ears. He sucked her clit deep into his mouth and shoved her up and over.

  Her shriek of ecstasy echoed around the meadow. Her hips flew up, her body jerking as he demanded and took everything she had until she fell back limp, her chest heaving and her eyes glazed with the look of a woman who’d been well and truly fucked.

  Holding Rylee, Hunter knew he was a goner. Part of his reason for arranging this weekend was to see if what he’d felt for Rylee all these years was real or just memories of how it had been. He’d dreamed of her, fantasized about her for so long, he wasn’t sure if he was in love with a memory or a dream.

  Getting to his knees, he had the feeling that the past and his dreams had just melded like a flash of heat fusing two metals. If things didn’t work out between them this time, he had a feeling, this time, the pain of the past would be nothing compared to the devastation of his heart.

  Bending, he scooped Rylee into his arms and strode across the meadow to the tent set among the trees.

  ****

  The inside of the tent was almost dark when Rylee woke in Hunter’s arms. They’d both fallen asleep after orgasm number six. She smiled. No one had ever demanded so much of her. Only this man. Then and now. They were in a large bed inside their weekend bedroom, a huge tent with small, twinkling lights strung overhead. When turned on, the tent would be filled with their own starry night.

  A tent. She shook her head. It didn’t appear that big from the outside, but inside, it was huge, with couple of smaller rooms attached. She thought of the old sheik romances, rich men with tents that included rugs and furniture. One of the small rooms was their bathroom, complete with a tub and shower, fed by the huge water tank behind the tent.

  “What are you thinking about, Snow.”

  “How much all this cost? Tell me you didn’t have to pay for all this.”

  “Not all. There was a participation fee, and I pay membership dues.” He grinned. “I did pay for your costumes though.”

  “You got robbed.”

  He lifted a brow. “How so?”

  “I have a feeling I’m not going to be wearing much for the next few days.”

  Hunter laughed and rose onto his elbow. “You’ve got a point, my lovely Snow. Let’s see about feeding other appetites before we go back to naked games.” He got out of bed and lifted her into his arms. She slid down his body, the vee between her legs gliding over his relaxed cock until her feet touched the rug on the floor.

  Rylee frowned and glanced around. “Where are my clothes?”

  “Well, what’s left of them is outside somewhere and probably not in very good shape since I ripped them off you.” He led her to a tall armoire and opened the door. He took out several costumes. Two were much the same as the dress she’d worn earlier—very Snow White in appearance. He shoved them back and held up a pine-green outfit. “This.”

  She took the hanger and stared at what amounted to not much more than a bit of material. It reminded her of a one-piece bathing suit that had been ripped into shreds from top to the very short skirt. She arched one brow. “Really?”

  He shrugged, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “At least it’s not animal skin or sewn together leaves. What else would Snow wear in the woods?”

  Rolling her eyes, she grimaced. “If I put this on, you’re just gonna rip it right off. Why bother?”

  “Ah, that’s a nice visual.” He skimmed the back of his fingers along her cheek, across the top of her breast and around its outer edge. “Won’t that be fun? Now, go put it on. Can’t take it off until you do.”

  The low baritone of his voice promised that she had at least one more orgasm in store for her. With face flaming, heart stuttering, and moisture gathering between her legs, she hurried into the curtained-off bathroom. Minutes later, she studied herself in the full length, freestanding mirror—someone had thought of everything. The top of the garment cupped her breasts, like his hands earlier. She made a face, wishing her boobs were bigger. Some cleavage would be nice.

  The ripped strands revealed lots of skin. And damn, did she have to be so pale? The dark green fabric against her fair flesh reminded her of pine needles draped with snow. She spun around in front of the mirror and wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or embarrassed as the skirt barely covered her ass. She’d have to stand absolutely straight.

  Another eye roll was followed by a chuckle. Silly woman. That was the point. Wearing this scrap of cloth was a sure guarantee she’d be flat on her back with Hunter claiming her. She wiggled her hips experimentally and grinned when the skirt crawled up, revealing her rounded cheeks.

  Hmm, a couple jiggles of her hips, and maybe he’d take her on her hands and knees. She chuckled. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad outfit after all. Flicking a comb through her hair, she headed back to the main room of the tent. There was no sign of Hunter, so she stepped outside and glanced around.

  A nice, bright fire in the center of the meadow drew her. The aroma of wood smoke, grass, and pines made her sigh. She’d never been much of an outdoors gal, but this she was going to enjoy. It was still light, but dusk was creeping through the ring of trees surrounding them.

  Be still my beating heart, she thought when she spotted him bent over, arranging blankets and pillows around the fire. A bit of cloth, the same color as her outfit snuggled his cock and sac. The man had a prime ass. Nicely rounded, hard muscle, and firm, soft flesh a couple shades lighter than the rest of him, which emphasized that sexy area.

  He straightened and faced her. Holy cow. She sucked in her breath. While his ass deserved her appreciation, his broad chest and well-defined muscles drew a sigh of pure lust. She’d been too busy earlier to take stock of the man. That was an oversight easily remedied.

  Unashamed, she stared, eyes tracing his wide shoulders, traveling across a smooth chest with no hair, lingering on twin nipples. Her gaze shifted downward, and she let out a low whistle. The man had a nice six-pack, and a thick line of golden-brown hair led her to his material-wrapped parts.

  She swallowed hard and continued her exploration. His thighs were twin tree trunks. Sweet mother of god. The man was built, the complete opposite of Jerry, who, even before he’d gotten so sick, had been a much smaller man, always on the thin side.

  Her heart pounded. Deep in her center, a yearning for what he could give her throbbed, tempting her to beat her chest in queen of the jungle style and yell to the world that he was hers. Her fantasy was reality. She had this man all to herself for three delicious days.

  “You keep looking at me like that, and I’m liable to forget about dinner. I’m hungry and not just for food.”

  Rylee laughed low in her throat as she joined him. “What you get for walking around naked.”

  He glanced down and cupped himself. “Not naked.”

  “You might as well be,” she scoffed, eyeing the bow that, when pulled, would unravel and reveal his hidden jewels.

  Hunter grinned. The thought of her naked, him naked, and him holding her naked body against his was enough to stir his dick. The scrap of fabric covering him wouldn’t hold if he didn’t get his thoughts and body under
control, which was no easy feat considering what she wore or, he amended, what she didn’t wear.

  Cut low, the bodice of her dress barely covered her tits, and patches of flesh winked and gleamed in the near darkness. Rylee held her hands out to the fire. Her skirt crept up. His gut clenched. Her bottom glowed like twin crescent moons.

  Focus on dinner, he ordered himself.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled. “You got the fire going fast.” Logs glowed a bright orange-red while the blue-edged flames danced beneath the grate.

  He hurried to the ice chests to get away from temptation. Dinner first. “I didn’t start it.” He opened the ice chest sitting to one side and nodded toward several baskets containing everything they needed to fix their dinner. “The forest elves came while we were sleeping.”

  “Wow. Must have been really quiet. I never heard them. What’d they bring?” She joined him and peered inside.

  “Steaks, butter & sour cream here.” He opened another basket. Hot potatoes and foiled ears of corn. He lifted out a note. “Already cooked. We just need to reheat.”

  “This basket has our plates, forks, knives, and linens. Yum. I’m hungry.” Rylee picked a spot and whipped out the cloth to spread it over the grass. “So was a camping set up your idea?”

  “Yep. Figured this fit in with the huntsman theme instead of a suite in the mansion. The owner has several cabins, but they’re taken.”

  Rylee’s gaze swept over the tent. “It’s a bit rustic.”

  Hunter glanced at his weekend playmate and laughed. “I take it you’ve never been camping, real camping.”

  She shook her head. “No, though this is pretty cool.”

  “Tenderfoot. My dad and I used to go camping every chance we got. We’d fish and catch our dinner. And our breakfast.”

  “And your mom?”

  “Took off when I was eight.”

  “I’m sorry.” She knelt beside him as he gathered everything he needed to grill the steaks. Flames danced in the fire pit. The fire was red hot.

  Hunter eyed her, amazed that she was such a good sport. He hadn’t expected her to allow the public spanking or lose her inhibitions in the garden, and that wild ATV ride… How could he even come close to topping that?

  He followed her every movement, which revealed more of her rounded ass. He grinned when she tried to yank her skirt back over it. He mentally shook his head and picked up the conversation. “My dad was the best. Just him and I until he remarried when I was in high school.”

  “Do you still go camping with him?”

  “No. He and his wife died in an accident right after I graduated from college.” A twinge of grief slapped him. Camping brought back so many memories. He still found it hard to accept there would be no more camping trips with his dad in his future.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks. I still miss him. What about your parents?”

  “Mom in Tennessee and dad in Montana. After the divorce, they both left California. Don’t see either one of them much. I haven’t been able to get away from the business very often to visit, and neither has any reason, or desire, to come back.”

  “Not even to see you?”

  Rylee shrugged. “They have their own lives. It is what it is.”

  She sounded sad. He knew how it felt to be abandoned, but at least, up until his dad was killed, he’d had one parent. Rylee had no one. He noticed the loneliness in her eyes, in her voice. In that moment, he understood how important her company was. It wasn’t only a business. Her employees were her family. He vowed to do what he could do to save her company.

  Hunter put the thick steaks on the grill around the center of the fire, which was still too hot, and arranged the potatoes and corn around the edges to warm up, then stared at the only woman who’d ever made him lose control.

  “Come here, Rylee.” He hid his smile of triumph when she stood and joined him. She might not believe she was a natural submissive, but her body and mind accepted the truth. “Turn around and kneel.”

  Rylee didn’t hesitate. Her dress rode the crest of her ass. “Spread your legs, Snow.” Hunter knelt behind her and slipped between her thighs, his hands roaming across her ass.

  “Um, Sir, what about the food?”

  He eyed the fire and the sizzling steaks. “We have time for a quickie. Rather, you do.” He widened his stance, forcing her knees wider until she was open for him. He drew her back until she was flush with his chest.

  “What if I want to wait? Sir.”

  He nuzzled her neck. “You’re mine, my sweet sub. My rules. I decide when.” He nipped her lightly. Her shiver pleased him. He put his mouth to her ear. “By the way, my sweet sub, the way you obeyed without thought or protest is proof you’re a natural sub.” He ran his hands up the outside of her thighs, up her hips, over her belly, smiling when she sucked in her breath. He caressed her breasts through the fabric. “Tell me you want to come for me.”

  “You know I do,” she whispered, her head falling to one side as he licked and sucked his way down her throat and across her shoulder.

  He yanked the narrow straps of her top down her arms and swept her short skirt up. He banded his arm around her waist. “Open yourself. Spread those lips wide so I can see your clit.”

  Rylee did as he ordered, feeling self-conscious. With her legs open, the warm air from the fire whispered across her sensitive flesh like a lover’s breath. She admitted he was probably right about her being a sub. She liked being told what to do and wanted to anticipate the pleasure he so willingly gave her.

  “Good. Now keep your hands there. You are not allowed to let go. Understand?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She shivered as his fingers glided over her mound, his palm cupping her while the tips of his fingers brushed her moist slit. His hand was large and filled with promise as one finger dipped inside, then trailed forward to her clit. Desire pumped through her, blinding her to everything but this man and what he planned to do.

  She held her labia open and sighed when his fingers touched hers as he circled her aching nub. Was there anything more erotic? He dipped inside and spread her wetness, slicking her with her cream. She panted, little sounds of pleasure escaping, making her wish this could go on forever. Her hips engaged in their own dance—small rotations, mimicking his movements. Deep inside, her muscles contracted.

  His rhythm increased as did his pressure. Her hips jerked out and up, her clit swelling and seeking that wonderfully attentive finger.

  “You look fantastic in the light of the fire, all gleaming and hot. Fast and hard. You ready?”

  Ready, waiting, desperate. “Yes, Sir Huntsman.”

  He took her at her word. No more teasing, no taunting, no mercy. His arm around her kept her balanced, his thighs kept her open, and his fingers teased, circled, and demanded.

  She’d never come on her knees before. Her thighs tightened and bunched against his with every gyration of her hips, and her fingers were slick with her juice. Jolts of need centered in her core, and her orgasm crawled and paced like a tiger desperate to gain freedom.

  “Get ready, my sweet sub.” His finger flew over her clit, concentrating behind the hood, petting, coaxing, and demanding until her whimpers became desperate cries. “Now. Come now.”

  Rylee gave way to the rush inside as the dam holding back her orgasm burst free. Spasms racked her body. Blood pulsed deep through her faster until all she could hear was her heart pounding in her ears.

  Hunter held her until she returned to awareness. He was hard as a rock. His balls ached like a sore tooth. How could one woman bring him so much joy without even welcoming his cock inside? He loved women, had his share of subs when he visited one of the BDSM clubs, and enjoyed giving them pleasure, especially when they had no idea how much pleasure they were capable of. But Rylee was different.

  No, he was different with her. Everything seemed…more intense, brighter, and so much more fulfilling. “I love how you come for me.” He lowered her skirt but left
her breasts exposed. “That might hold us until after we eat.” He stood to turn the meat, noting it was over cooked. “Don’t think we were fast enough.”

  Rylee, still on her knees, shifted. “Maybe we ought to let this side get a bit overcooked as well.” Her hands traveled up his thighs, fingers bunching into his thick muscles.

  He sucked in his breath at the lustful hunger in her eyes. “Subs are supposed to ask permission to touch.”

  “Are you going to tell me no? Seems fair if I had a treat before dinner that you get one, too. We’ll call this an appetizer, a treat for you and me. I want your cock in my mouth, O’ Mighty Huntsman.”

  He caught the twinkle in her eye. She didn’t take the Sir bit seriously, not admitting that he was, in truth, her Dom. She used Mighty Huntsman more in jest than as a way of showing she was truly submissive to him. That was okay—for now. Tomorrow, he’d prove what it meant to be his sub. Today—tonight was more about getting reacquainted and building trust.

  Liar. He’d had the afternoon and evening planned, with him in firm control, but he’d lost total control of the entire event the moment they entered the garden. So, what the hell. He’d go with the flow for now. Tomorrow, he’d be back in charge.

  He pulled the ends of the ties and whipped away the fabric covering his erection. His dick sprang toward her, aching for what she promised. “Just a taste.”

  She wrapped her hand around him, eyes filled with longing—for him. “I want to run my tongue over every delicious inch of your cock and tease you until you beg me to let you come, but keeping our dinner in mind, you might have to settle for hard and fast.”

  The pang to his gut screamed, hell yes. Damn, what was happening to him?

  And that was the last coherent thought he had. The moment her lips closed over his swollen crown, locking hotly, then sheathing him with her mouth, he was a goner.

  “Fuck. Fuck me.” He curled his toes into the blanket and dug his fingers into her hair as she delivered exactly what she promised. No teasing. No taunting. No sweet licks. And fuck it, no mercy. He’d planned to let her taste and tease, then stop her, preferring to draw out his orgasmic pleasure by waiting, but she’d taken that choice from him.