Page 81 of Stags

“I mean, obviously.” Another lick. “Access, I think. I want access to you, to your body, to your wet little pussy that’s delectably tucked under that mesmerizing tail of yours.”

She moaned, wriggling into him.

He gasped, settling firmly against her, stopping her movement. “Stay still, little preykin.” His voice was like the darkness.

It settled over her, a dark, thick blanket. She whined.

“Fuck, you keep makingnoiseslike that,” he said, and his voice was strained. “Going to get me worked up again if you’re not careful.”

“Sorry,” she said, not sorry at all, impish and pleased and preening.

“No, you’d like that,” he said darkly. “You like making me crazy.”

“I feel a little crazy, too,” she offered.

It was quiet for several moments.

“What is your name?” he said finally.

“Eiren,” she said quietly.

“Eiren,” he repeated, tasting her name. Then he licked her again. “I like that. Suits you.”

She wriggled again.

He put his teeth into her.

She cried out.

He released. “Still, Eiren, staystill. You keep making me feel like I’m right on the edge.” His voice was raw.

“Edge of what?” she breathed.

“I don’t know,” he muttered. “I don’t think I’d actually do anything.” And now he licked a long wet path up her spine. His breath was hot at her neck. “Your scent changes in ways I like when I say things like that, though.”

She wondered what she smelled like. There was a scent to him, too. It wasn’t familiar or comforting, but it was thrilling, dangerous, wild.

“Here’s what I want to ask for right now, though,” he said, his voice deep and suddenly decisive. “I don’t want you to go out in that field tonight, because there’s one of those, um, runs, right? This evening?”

“There is,” she agreed.

“And one in the morning,” he said. “And I don’t want you to participate in either of them, and I know it’s why you came to this, so I don’t know if it’s even really fair of me to ask you that, but that’s what I’m asking.”

“Okay,” she acquiesced with a little sigh.

“Huh,” he murmured. He licked her again.

“But,” she said, breathless, wriggling into him again, and he didn’t stop her movement this time, “if I say yes, then I don’t want you out there either. I don’t want you to chase another doe and realize there’s nothing all that special about me, that you’re just hot for deerkin tail.”

He laughed, nuzzling her neck now, squeezing her hip where his hand was curved around her. “Deal.”

She laughed, too. She let out another sigh, burrowing into the softness of the bed beneath her and the warmth and firmness of the man at her back. She relaxed, and she felt herself starting to drift off into sleep.

He licked her again.

She moaned.

She slipped away, slipped off, and she was dreaming, then, dreaming of his hand clutching her tail, dreaming of the way his thick cock felt inside her, dreaming—