Page 49 of Stags

But out here, in the woods, right now, she seemed to have boundless energy and she could runfast.

He was gaining on her, though.

Every time she glanced over her shoulder, he was closer.

She still had that image of him in her head, antlers locked in with the other stag, his neck muscles and shoulder muscles tensing under the thin t-shirt he was wearing. Last night, he’d been in a suit, but today he was in a gray t-shirt and jeans, and he looked sort of soft but rugged and she couldn’t help but note how his torso was V-shaped and how wide his shoulders were and how thick his bare forearms seemed to be.

She glanced back again.

Sun and moon, he was almost on top of her. She let out a little yip of fear or thrill or excitement… She couldn’t even say.

And then, he reached out and took hold of the back of her shirt. He tugged on that until he had an arm around her waist.

She didn’t struggle. It seemed right somehow to let him pull her body in against his, to let him press his chest against her back, his pelvis against her backside, to let their legs stop moving, to come to a stop.

She was out of breath.

He was too. He panted into the crook of her neck and shoulder, strong forearm banded around her, just above her belly button.

Oh, shit. She could feel his erection through his pants. She could feel how fucking hard and huge he was.

It seemed to surge through her, making her whole body tingle, but especially her clit, especially her nipples. Groaning, she turned herself in his arms.

He accommodated her, making an approving rumbling noise in the back of his throat. One of his thick hands splayed out on her back. The other went down to cup the curve of her backside. He urged her tightly against him, and his mouth found hers.

She shut her eyes, surrendering to the breathless kiss, which seemed to tingle, too. It felt divine, his tongue in her mouth, dragging itself against her tongue, his movement smooth and assured.

He broke the kiss. “You feel perfect in my arms,” he told her, still out of breath. “You’re the prettiest little thing in the whole world, aren’t you?”

She was still panting. “What are you going to do with me?”

“Whatever I want,” he told her. He snatched her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Whatever you want.” A pause. “And you want my cock. Say it.”

She shuddered. “I… do.” She kissed him again.

He crushed her against him.

She pulled back. “But you… you don’t have to be such a… you don’t have to act like it was a foregone conclusion.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, kissing her roughly. “You want me to.”

“I…” She started to chew on her bottom lip, and some part of her wanted to surrender to this. Well? Why not?

Wasn’t that the whole point of sex with a stranger, how it didn’t have to mean anything, how you didn’t have to worry about what they thought of you?

If you want this Tawny, you can have it.

“I want you to,” she said, her voice cracking. “I want you to do whatever you want with me. I want you to use me like you’re moondamned entitled to my pussy because you caught it. I want you to treat me like… like…”

“Like you’re mine,” he said in a deep, knowing voice. “Because you are. You are mine. Say it, Tawny.”

“I’m yours,” she whispered.

“Say my name,” he said, and he was tugging her shirt free from where it was tucked into her jeans.

“I’m yours, Athos,” she said, and that made her shiver again, and it made her sensitive bits tingle.

“Mine to fuck and mine to breed,” he told her, but his voice was gentle when he said this, somehow, sort of affectionate, and he kissed her after he said it. It was a thorough kiss, but it wasn’t as rough as the kisses they had shared already. “All mine,” and his voice was a whisper, too, just like hers.

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