me tighter, tugging my shirt out from beneath the top of my jeans and sliding his hands beneath it.
“That feels so good,” I whispered into his ear. “Do we have time?”
“We’ll make time,” he said, his voice ragged.
I turned to lock the door as he flipped off the overhead light, leaving the lamp on his desk on. His office was large, with no window to the outside. A large room painted sky blue with a white ceiling, Herne’s office was filled with lush plants, their vines trailing everywhere. A large weapons case sat against one wall, filled with bows and knives and a gleaming sword. A mini-fridge sat on a table along with a microwave, over near a daybed. Herne’s desk was dark walnut, gleaming under the lights, and his chair was black leather. Two matching wing chairs sat on the other side of his desk, and two more against the wall by the door. Over Herne’s desk was a massive rack of antlers.
After locking the door, I turned back to see him standing by the daybed. He had stripped off his shirt and his chest gleamed, the muscles rippling down to his six-pack. His waist narrowed, and as he stepped out of his jeans, my eyes were drawn to the narrow V leading to his erect cock. He straightened his shoulders, his wheat-colored hair tousled and silken against his back.
“Come here, wench.” He held out his arms.
I pulled off my shirt as I crossed the room, unbuckling my belt as I approached him. I shoved my jeans down, kicking them off, and in one fluid move, he caught hold of the sides of my panties and yanked them down. I barely had time to step out of them before he tossed them to the side. My nipples stiffened as the hunger rose within me.
“I need you,” I whispered, my voice feeling gravelly. “Take me.”
In a blur, he swept me up in his arms and laid me down on the daybed, his eyes gleaming. His lips began a trail down my throat, down to my breasts where he tugged at one nipple with his teeth, growling low in his throat. With my left hand, I cupped my other breast, squeezing hard, while with my right, I reached down, grasping him in my palm. He was hard and firm, pulsing as I held him tight. I reached down to slide my fingers inside me, getting them wet with my own juices, then went back to rubbing his cock again, holding him tight as I slid my hand up and down his length.
“Oh, stop,” he moaned. “It’s been too long.”
“It’s been far too long,” I murmured.
He lowered his head between my legs and sought out my center, tonguing me gently, swirling around my clit. I let out a squeak, trying to keep as quiet as I could. Of course the others knew what we were doing, but I didn’t want to embarrass them, so I bit my lip as he began to bathe me with his tongue, fluttering it back and forth as he slid two fingers inside of me.
Unable to help myself, I moaned. “I can’t take it—”
“Oh, you’ll take it, and more, my love. You’ll take everything I give you.” He worked me harder then, grabbing hold of my hips as he ate me out. The tension rose in my stomach. My lips were feeling tingly as I panted. Then, as I began to come, unable to hold back my cries, I grabbed hold of the daybed covers beneath me and let the wave of orgasm wash over me. It carried me up, spinning me around, but before it could subside, Herne was between my legs, driving into me with a fire that only sparked my own hunger more.
He was thick and hard, long and warm, and he penetrated me, pinning me to the bed. I laughed, nervous and giddy and still caught in the throes of my first orgasm. Then, before I could catch my breath, he began to slide in and out, long, smooth strokes. I fell into his rhythm, bringing myself up to meet him. But before I could settle in, he shifted position slightly, driving in at an angle.
Once again, I bit my lip, trying to keep my cries low. But Herne was a god, and as he pressed himself against me, every inch of our bodies met as one. I felt myself losing myself in the passion, losing myself in the rhythm that mimicked the