Page 25 of Trickery

“Yes, I see. You are very horny, aren’t you?” He delved deeper. She heard the sound of her slickness as he moved inside her. He gave a little groan. “You are very wet, you know.”

“Yes.” And then, all of a sudden, she wasn’t feeling playful. Because he had withdrawn. But he didn’t deny her for long. He slipped back in and then out, several times in quick succession. She whimpered. Clutched at him.

When he didn’t give her what she wanted, as fast as she wanted it, she took matters into her own hands. She reached down and found his cock and squeezed.

“Oh my,” she said. “Look what I’ve found. It seems you’re a little horny as well.”

A flush crawled up his face, his muscles tightened, along with her fist. “Ah. Willow.” She rubbed his length again, and again. He dropped his head on her shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

Willow stilled. “Missed me?” For Gaia’s sake. They’d just met.

He jerked his head back and panic flickered through his chi. Before she could react to that, wonder at that, he stroked her again, this time deeper still. He buried his fingers inside her and then wiggled them. All thoughts fled in the face of this pleasure. She cried out and tipped back her head and arched her back as an orgasm, or at least the hint of one, tugged at her.

Damien, her warlock, didn’t hesitate. He pulled down his tight breeches and pulled out his cock and, being careful to shield her most private parts from the lingering throng, entered her.

Delight shot through her. It simmered and roiled in her womb, danced as this fat sword skewered her. “Ah yes.” She spread her legs farther apart, and farther, as he moved over her, trying his best to rein in the passion in front of so many onlookers while still bringing her pleasure.

And pleasure, he did bring.

There was something about him, this man, his cock, his body, that spoke to her. It was probably the magic but really it felt like so much more. A familiarity swamped her, and something more…. A memory. A dream. A hope. A hunger. With each lunge he brought it closer, closer to her until she could almost grasp it. Almost grab it with both hands and hold on.

His thrusts became hard and short. He lunged from one side to the other in a frantic searching rhythm. She responded in kind, tightening her hold on him the faster he went, clutching at him, milking him, begging for more, more, more.

And then it came. Even as the wave broke over her, it broke within her as hot jets of his cum washed her womb. Took root. It was glorious. Delirious. Fragrant. Exquisite.

Because as she came, as he filled her with his cum, she remembered.

She remembered everything.

She clutched him closer, crying, “Damien, Damien, Damien!”

“Ah yes, Willow. My Willow.”

He reared back, looked her in the eye. A message, unspoken except in their hearts, passed between them. And they knew.

They both just knew.