by Stella Inox
He cried out, liquid syllables of an alien language falling from his lips. Carin couldn’t understand him but knew that he was urging her on. His hips began to move and he thrust himself into her mouth, forcing himself deep into her throat before dragging his length out again.
He tasted so good!
She could have sucked on his body like a lollipop for hours, but he got impatient. He dragged her up by the hair so that she was level with his face and used his knee to spread her legs, pressing his hips into the space created.
He nudged at her pussy with the hard head of his erection, and she cried out, parting her legs as far as they could go for his invasion.
He wasn’t gentle with her. He impaled her with a single thrust of his golden hips, driving his body into hers with a swift, sure movement.
She was overwhelmed, her tissues forced to expand around male hardness. Her body reacted, exploding into orgasm, compelled by the forceful stab. She convulsed around him, her pussy milking his cock even as she thrashed, unable to cope with the pleasure.
He moved slowly, seeing her through the lingering spasms until her breathing calmed. She opened glazed eyes, meeting his searching gaze. He was watching her slyly, mischief and pleasure an equal mix on his face and he continued to move with slow searching thrusts until her heart calmed from its jack hammer beat.
“Again” he crooned.
Bracketing her head with his forearms and back arched, Herne dug deeper inside, twisting his hips as he drove up, slamming his cock all the way until he touched the mouth of her womb. Every stroke rubbed his pelvis against her clit and within seconds, she could feel her channel tightening again around him.
He forced her response again and again, every plunging movement bringing her untold pleasure. She cried out in a mixture of joy and agony, arms beating at him, the sensuality so frenzied that her mind started to fracture
He never gave her surcease, wringing release after release from her until she felt empty, scoured clean by his sexual assault until she just couldn’t take anymore.
“Please” she whispered through cracked dry lips, bruised and swollen from his kisses.
“Please?” he laughed. “You need more?” hips still moving and body still surging.
“Enough” she tried, “I can’t… not again…”
“Ah, your need is slaked little human. Mine is nearly also tapped dry… One more time then as the sun rises on the horizon.”
He sped his strokes up, cock driving deep again but this time he closed his eyes and his movements became more deliberately turbulent.
Carin wept, she could feel another orgasm rising. He’d wrung so much from her body that she hurt, but he forced the release from her, aching muscles seizing one last time even as he threw his head back, horns flashing in the gentle light from the rising sun.
He gritted his teeth, face twisting in chaotic desire. Incredibly, she felt his massive cock grow thicker still as lunged at her, beating his flesh into hers. His seed burst from his body, flooding her channel with hot slick fluid as he convulsed above her, muscles taught, breath hissing between his teeth.
She lay limp and acquiescent below him and didn’t even have the strength to moan as he pulled his shaft from her tormented flesh. Carin lay still as he moved away from her, trying to fight the desperate urge to sleep. As she lost the battle, she heard him climb into the hot spring and then splashing as he scrubbed her scent from his body.
Chapter Seven
He woke her when the sun was high in the sky.
“Awake, little human” he sang. “The day passes and we have things to do, and choices to make.”
He was already dressed.
She groggily got out of bed, using the sheet to cover herself before realizing that she had nothing to wear anyway. There was no point in useless modesty. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen, touched or tasted everything already.
She shrugged and dropped it, making her way to the hot spring and sank down into the steaming water with a sigh of relief. Her flesh and muscles were sore, signs of a well-used body abounded and she was grateful when the worst of aches and pains vanished as if drawn out by the water.
He gave her the cloak she’d found last night to wear. So she was barefoot and naked sporting nothing but the useless, pretty piece of jewelry around her neck.
She sat down at the small, intricately carved table opposite him. Carin had never felt so awkward. What did one say to Herne, God of the Hunt after spending the night being ravaged in his bed?
Not much apparently.
Every time he looked at her, a dull flush suffused her features.
He handed her a goblet of something to drink, and a chunk of bread that was dense and filled with nuts. It was delicious, and she wolfed it down, feeling much more human now that her aches were gone and her belly was settled.
“You have a choice to make” he stated without inflection.
She choked on her last swallow of mineral water, and had to bash her own chest to stop the spasms and coughing.
“Which choice is that?”
“The rules require that I fully disclose what my request means. I offer you two options. You didn’t escape me before the requisite time elapsed which makes you mine to do with as I will. Failing usually means death. The bargain you accepted last night was only a stay of execution, and thus it falls to you to choose which path to take.”
He looked at her carefully, and she nodded to indicate that she understood. Her fingers tightened on the edge of the table with tension.
“The first choice I offer you is the completion of the hunt. For the pleasure that you gave me last night, I’ll make it fast and painless.”
Carin swallowed hard, her knuckles white. She’d known that was the consequence of failing last night but hearing it stated so baldly made her feel ill, especially after having spent the night in his arms.
“And the other?”
“You freely give yourself to me without condition and reservation. You become mine, body, blood, and soul. Your will becomes mine to do with as I wish for as long as you live.”
She blanched. He was giving her the choice of death or slavery.
“That’s not much of choice” she cried.
“But it’s a choice nonetheless” he countered.
Like last night, she had no real alternatives. If she wanted to live then she accepted his terms. If she was alive then there would be a chance to escape, somehow, some way. It was that simple. If that meant sleeping with him on a regular basis and fetching his meals or doing his laundry, she could live with that.
“I accept the second option.”
His topaz eyes flared with cold satisfaction and sly cruelty, and she quailed.
“Excellent. Repeat this after me.”
He led her carefully through a recitation.
“I, Carin Angela Thomas, freely accept Herne, The God of the Hunt as my rightful master. I agree to his complete dominion over my person. I make this oath on bone and blood.”
Her heart sank with each syllable.
“We’re done here. Rise.”
When she was too slow to comply, her body rose without her volition, forced to follow his voiced command. It was then that she understood the true consequences of her decision. She wouldn’t be able to escape. When he’d demanded her will, he’d meant just that. She wouldn’t be able to disagree or flee him. She was truly lost.
Carin wanted to weep at her abject stupidity, but she couldn’t. She stood there awaiting his next command like a robot, raging inside.
He took her hand, pulling her into a close embrace, and then whispered a few liquid syllables. The light fractured around them, and Carin screamed silently in fear as the world dissolved incomprehensibly around her.
They flickered, appearing in the clearing where she’d first seen him, except this time it was packed with creatures, some as beautiful as him and others, horrors that seared her mind. Most of them looked at her gleefully.
Carin was locked i
nside her head, lost in a world of horror-filled terror.
One of the watchers caught her eye, his green eyes the color of moss. He was magnificent, broader and more muscular then Herne, but bore no antlers on his proud brow. He was looking at her with something close to pity or sympathy, as if he understood the internal fight for freedom.
Herne released her and raised both hands in the air.
“My people” he called, baritone voice echoing with triumph. “Behold a willing sacrifice!”
They cheered and howled, cacophonous voices echoing around her.
She couldn’t protest, her body was barred from her control and unable to rebel, but he saw the mute plea and accusation in her eyes.
“Oh come now my sweet, don’t take it so hard. I never promised not to kill you if you accepted my terms.”
The clearing convulsed with laughter at her expense.
Lightning exploded into existence, coruscating between two of the tallest trees in the clearing and figure appeared.
“Right on time” murmured Herne, moving to stand behind her.
It was the crotchety archivist from the house except… it wasn’t.
This figure wasn’t bent or stooped by age. His hair was still white with years, but his eyes were alive with power and stern with authority. There was an echo of otherness in his face, and Carin suddenly understood that Allan the Archivist was not completely human.
He stopped when he saw Carin, despair filling his face, and he glanced with entreaty-filled eyes at the green eyed man who’d looked at her in sympathy. The green man shook his head slowly and Allan closed his eyes in defeat.
Herne cast his gaze back and forth between the two, watching the exchange with amusement.
“Your human son ages, Cernunnos. It won’t be long before you have to find or make another.” His tone was wicked with cold amusement.
“But enough with family reunions, let’s get on to business, yes?”
He pulled Carin further into his embrace, drawing her closely to his body, as if she was his cherished lover. He dropped her hood, and ran a gentle hand down her throat, drawing her hair away and over one shoulder, baring the torc.
“We mustn’t forget the rules” he hissed at Allan. “In accordance with the Compact agreed between our races, I have a willing sacrifice. She is bound to me of her own free will. In the terms set down long ago” he maintained, “the sacrifice of such a one gains me entry to the mortal world for the night of Samhain. As. Is. My. Right. Do you agree?”
Allan ground his teeth but responded formally.
“The rules are clear. If you have convinced a sacrifice to change allegiance, and die for your cause instead of ours then you have free passage for one night, from dusk until dawn on Samhain.”
“So be it.”
Carin heard the shing of a blade being drawn. She knew she was helpless and unable to defend herself, and instead she filled her mind with early memories. She no longer thought of the goods or wealth she’d acquired, but instead imagined the touch of the parents she’d lost so long ago. She remembered the gentleness of her father’s voice, and the love in her mother’s eyes.
She was so engrossed in memory that she barely felt the unkind blade as it slit her throat, spilling her life’s blood over the torc. Her body sagged in Herne’s tight hold, and he let her slip from his grasp, pulling the torc free from her gushing throat as she fell.
Carin’s last view was of his beautiful, uncaring topaz gaze before her sight dimmed, and she slipped into the dark forever.
Chapter Eight
Herne grinned coldly at Allan, baring sharp white teeth in malicious triumph.
He ignored the still and bloody form at his feet, stepping over it without thought or concern.
“Now, for the last piece of the puzzle.” He cast the crimson stained torc at Allan’s feet. “I return to you the gate key, still wet with the sanctified blood of a willing human sacrifice” he stated formally.” You’ll need that back for Samhain” he continued on in a more normal tone of voice.
“To maintain your side of our bargain, the Guardians still need to unlock the gate and send another milch-kine and the usual wealth. Of course, the next time your silly vault is opened, we’ll be waiting.”
Allan didn’t say anything. He nodded sharply, picked up the blood stained jewelry and tucked it into his pocket, not flinching from the crimson stain.
“Don’t forget to take that with you” said Herne, waving a hand at the cooling remains of what had once been a vibrant, lovely woman.
Allan tenderly picked up her lifeless form and started back to the two trees that formed the Otherworld portal. He gave a sorrowful nod to the one called Cernunnos, who acknowledged his look with a tilt of his head.
“We’ll see you in three moons” called the horned god mockingly at the departing figure.
Lightning flashed again in the clearing as the gate activated, wrapping Allan and his sad cargo in bands of shimmering light. Allan glared at the beautiful scornful figure with a determined look.
“Oh you’ll see one of us sooner than that.”
The electricity flared brilliantly, and he was gone.
The End.
This story continues in the soon to be released book: Quarry of the horned god.
Contact the Author
If you enjoyed this, feel free to drop the author an email at [email protected]
About the series:
This book is part of a broader series ‘Otherkind Kink’
Books Available:
Otherkind Kink - Djinn #1: Djinn and Tonic
Otherkind Kink - Djinn #2: Dun-Djinn
Otherkind Kink -Djinn #3: Djinn Rummy (Coming soon)
Otherkind Kink - Male Medusa #1: Caught in Coils
Otherkind Kink - Male Medusa #2: The Serpents kiss (Coming soon)
Otherkind Kink - Horned Gods #1: Hunted by Herne
Otherkind Kink – Horned Gods #2: Quarry of the Horned God
Otherkind Kink – Horned Gods #3: Horned God rising (Coming soon)
About the Author
Stella Inox grew up in family that traveled extensively. Visiting so many different countries exposed her at a young age to many different local rumors and legends. Stella has always been interested in mythology, fairy tales and the paranormal.
Granted, when she first started reading the mythological materials that interested her, she wasn’t fantasizing about making love to the subject matter, but that changed as she got older.
There’s a streak of kink a mile wide in her nature, and Stella has always enjoyed writing so it seemed like a match made in heaven, figuring that if she enjoyed writing it so much that others just might enjoy reading it…
Stella loves receiving feedback from readers, and other than making love to mythological creatures in her head, Stella enjoys riding her horses and drinking great wine with good friends. She also fancies herself a chef.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
