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His beard teases as he leans in to drag his nose along the exposed flesh of my neck. He sucks in a breath, like he is breathing me deep before biting on the sensitive tendons there.
I am not even ashamed of the whimper that comes out of me, or even the way I unconsciously grind my rapidly filling cock into his thick thigh. A soft growl rumbles in his chest as he leaves open-mouthed kisses over the bite, and up my neck, nosing along my jaw, up to my ear, tugging on my hair to keep mein position. A shiver of need runs through me, anticipation zipping through my veins, hotwantingflooding my belly.
There is never a time that I don’t want this man, but when he gets all hot and grabby?Ugh, I am putty in his highly capable hands. He nibbles on my earlobe, something I usually hate—who likes hot breath in the ear?—but is inexplicably hot when he does it.
“Guess I have something to work for then, don’t I?” I barely register the words whispered against my ear before he captures my lips with his own, taking me over, invading my senses. I dig my fingers into his ass, pulling him closer, painfully close, grinding my now aching erection against him, the wave of the most delicious orgasm building.
The smell of Caelan, nature and man, the feel of his hard body up against me, the frantic need of him. I am going to come in my pants like a horny teenager and I couldn’t care less. I need to come like I need my next breath.
And then I am swaying into nothingness, Caelan releasing his hold on me and stepping back with a laugh. He wipes his thumb against his wet, kiss-plump lips, eyes on fire with lust. I almost fall flat on my face, but manage to catch myself. The rat bastard thinks it’s hilarious as I glare at him and readjust my now leaking dick in my pants.
“Blue balls is dangerous, you know. Deadly even. And I almost died the other day. This is fucking cruel.” I give my dick a squeeze, trying to get it to calm down.
Showing absolutely zero sympathy, Caelan throws back his head and lets out a booming laugh that echoes through the Woods. It would have been hot if he wasn’t being an asshole. With a slap on my shoulder, he turns and continues on our loosely marked path, pulling the map from where it had been tucked in his pocket.
“Suck it up, buttercup. You’ll live.” Only seeing him having to do a sneaky rearrange in his pants as he chuckles to himself ahead of me eases my plans to murder him. Or pin him down and hump him like a dog until I come. Either way works for me at this point. But as we walk on in silence, I realise the fear that had been strangling my spine is gone.
Caelan
It seems like myfears about not being able to venture further into the Woods were unfounded. Which is ahugerelief. I don’t know what I would do if I had to disappoint Tor like that. He is stressed out enough as it is. I can see it, even if he tries to keep it to himself. Every so often, his shoulders tense up, his back straightens, and he just gets this look in his eyes. Like a storm cloud is coming over him. I have been trying to snap him out of it when I can, but still, I can see it haunting him.
The Woods themselves have been deceptively calm since his run-in with the mermaid, but the beings of the Woods have been… a lot. It’s not just the omnipresent weight of magic bearing down on us. Maybe it’s just me feeling it so heavily? Tor doesn’t seem to have the same crawling itch under his skin that I do.
Venturing deeper has meant an increase in contact with beings and creatures, and with the full moon in two nights, things are getting busy around here. I am not sure if Tor has noticed the energy in the air, but I should probably warn him. Full moons in Whisper Woods tend to get a little, well, for want of a better word, horny.
The full moon is pretty much a universal gathering night for beings everywhere, to meet at their sacred places. And the Woods are the most sacred of places in all of Carconnois. Especially for those beings that belong to the Woods, or have ties to packs that live here.
The full moon is time to get back to your clan or pack, to bond, connect and, more often than not, get wild. Which would explain a lot of the movement we’vebeen seeing. So far we’ve seen a faun clan heading to their ceremony grounds, and forest shifters moving to their gathering grounds.
We’d even spotted the nymphs of the Woods waking from their winter slumber to make their way to their sacred spaces. Twice as tall as each of us, with long spindly legs and arms that dragged to the ground, their extra joints had them moving in an almost lyrical, dancing sort of motion.
Their skin was covered in leaves, like a coat or a suit, only it was apartof them, rippling in the breeze with their loping, swirling movements, the fern-like leaves of their hair floating around their angular blank faces, their startling round, deep, neon blue eyes blinking rapidly.
We’d watched in awed silence as they had risen, from where they had slept completely hidden in the leaf matter of the Woods floor until they had disappeared from sight, Tor’s hand squeezing mine, his other pulled at my elbow in a desperate attempt to contain his excitement and not spook the rare, beautiful creatures.
Later, Tor had even caught a glimpse of his beloved centaurs, but we had been too far away up a rocky cliff face, so he was still disappointed at having missed them. I had even heard the howls of the resident wolf shifter pack that lived on this side of the Woods. Which… isn’t great. Not only are they technicallymypack, with my family history and all, but I also have personal history there and I am really,reallyhoping to avoid it.
Unfortunately, I am not quite that lucky. It is late that afternoon, the sun just beginning to set, when it starts to go wrong. A family of rabbits bolting for their life is my first clue that something is wrong. Though he is once again lost in thought, even Tor notices their terror and the shimmer ofsomethingin the air. Something, or someone, is close.
We are definitely being watched.
Carefully I undo the cases on my knife belt, ready to pull them out if necessary and unclip my backpack’s chest strap in case I have to drop it quickly. After the incident in the creek I have no intentions of being stupid enough to risk Tor a second time.
As we cautiously walk through the dense and shadowy path, the Woods are quiet, too quiet. The usual background noise of the Woods, the soft trills of the birds and the scampering of wildlife in the underbrush are silent.
I can feel the eyes on us, hairs on the back of my neck tingling with tension, primal instinct from mostly dormant genetics firing under my skin. In front of me, tension creeps through Tor’s shoulders as he braces for whatever is coming for us. The path is narrow here, and I know that whatever is stalking us isn’t going to come head on.
“Caelan, there is something—” Tor’s whisper is broken off by a loud crack of a branch to our left. Tor, or is it me? Both of us? Let out a choking gasp as more crunching and rustling comes from the shadows of the treeline.
Whatever has been stalking us has decided it is time for dinner. I turn to face the direction of the noise, roughly shoving Tor behind me. Ignoring his indignant growl, I pull out my knife, gripping it tight in my sweaty palm just as the whirring grey blur leaps from the tree line with a vicious snarl.
I land on the hard ground with a heavy grunt, my pack taking the brunt of the blow, but it restrains my shoulders awkwardly, making it impossible to fight back against the shifter.
The giant gold and grey wolf has me pressed to the ground, heavy paws weighing down my legs and pinning my chest; it manages to catch the arm holding my knife in its mouth, not piercing the skin but tight enough to show that it could easily rip the appendage from the joint. The beast snarls and growls, drool pooling in its mouth as it bares its disarmingly white teeth. Golden amber eyes stare into mine, narrowing slightly.
Terror floods me as the being presses more of its weight into me, flexing its claws into my skin. Another low growl rumbles from its throat, and it readjusts its grip on my arm. I can feel the sweat dripping down my neck as I continue to stare the being down.
I can see Tor out of the corner of my eye, shifting closer.Gods, I realise,the idiot is planning to attack. Unfortunately, I am not the only one who notices, and the wolf releases my arm to turn its hulking head to snarl menacingly at him.
