Page 99 of Queen of Sherwood

Tuck was right: We had an audience. Everyone in camp was watching.

I didn’t fucking care. I needed an outlet to get out this aggression and anguish.

When I spoke the word, he blinked, nodded firmly, and backpedaled into his tent.

I closed the flap behind us.

Then I shoved the friar in the belly and he plopped down on his ass at the edge of the cot. He stared up at me.

I yanked my pants down and stepped out of them, then tossed my tunic aside to bare myself to my lovable friar. The clothes had been burning my skin, and I needed to get out of them.

Tuck stared at me with bemusement, but that expression turned to one of hunger quickly enough as his eyes roved over my body.

I straddled Tuck’s lap. Saying nothing, feeling everything. Perhaps I had finally cracked and gone mad. God knew I felt like it.

Watching as Tuck’s throat bobbed anxiously, I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed him back, until he was in a reclined position.

Just like how we had fallen asleep together, before the madness caused by the Muddy Meddlers rocked our entire camp. Before Bishop Sutton had met his grisly end at the hands of a gaggle of she-wolves.

While Sutton’s body bled out and rotted outside this tent, I felt every sensation nipping at my being, spreading from my belly to my core to my brain.

I recalled the violence from earlier tonight, during the slaughter of the guards, and how it had made me slick and hot to the touch. That same visceral reaction overcame me now.

I reached behind me, down, and gripped Tuck’s cock through his habit. He grunted when I squeezed my fingers around his thick shaft.

Within seconds, he had thickened in my palm, growing along the curve of my ass. I sat up just long enough to blindly guide him to the dripping entrance of my cunt, and then sat down on his length.

His cock filled me in a single thrust. I planted my ass on Tuck’s lap, taking him to the hilt. His lips parted in surprise, yet he said nothing.

He allowed me to use his body for the torrid, sordid needs I had. Watching as my lithe form bounced on his.

I wasn’t sure why Friar Tuck had been my first target. I couldn’t explain the thoughts in my head, because there was no rhyme or reason to them. Everything swam, jumbling together.

All I knew was I needed release from this pressure and aggressiveness, and I only knew one way to do that.

With my hands on Tuck’s chest, I rammed my ass down against his thighs, clapping our flesh together.

He grunted, body wobbling with my violent attacks on his large frame. His cock speared and swelled against my walls. He cupped my ass with his hands and helped my off-beat rhythm, bringing me down onto his pelvis over and over again.

With the roundness of my ass meeting the tops of his thighs, I ground my hips into him, rolling in a way that made me crack a moan from my lungs.

My eyes rolled from the shocking pleasure of it stabbing into me. The furious pace I set, until the slapping of flesh grew louder and echoed through camp.

I could only hope one of my other mates understood what was happening in here and had told the other Merry Men and Oak Boys to leave the area. To give us space and time and peace.

Somehow, I doubted that had happened.

Which meant the entire camp was likely listening to the moans and grunts and tawdry sounds of our copulation—hearing every pulse of our joined bodies as their whore-leader satiated herself on our unsuspecting chaplain.

Rites for the dead could wait. The burials would come. The grief would strike.

What couldn’t wait was this greedy, depraved feeling inside me, needing to be punished and disciplined and filled.

Tuck’s eyes widened when I stared down at him, my hands gripping his chest tight beneath his opened habit. My hands came up and curled around his neck, and I lightly squeezed, forcing the air from his lips in a wheeze.

His cock bulged inside me. A climax riddled my body and I writhed, planting my ass down to his balls in a final thrust, and keeping it there—forcing him to spill himself inside me.

I let Tuck’s neck go at the moment of climax, and then he exploded. The thick, hot ropes shot into me, and I bared my teeth in a feral growl as he unraveled.

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