SUMMARY:
We all know what she is.
Impossible to catch.
Every Mating Moon they all hunt for her. Her tiny leather robes leave little to the imagination and we'd all like to feel her to sate our primal need to breed. But damn her ability to spark when threatened.
But I've a plan this year. I've watched her every move and now I'm ready to put the plot I've carefully nurtured into effect.
Within hours I plan to be sinking into her warm body and sating my insatiable appetite.
Afterall, she's not the only one with magic in this pack.
That's why they call me Magus.
TEASER:
She was soon moaning from her own stroking. She came. Opening her mouth on a pleasured moan.
That was the finishing moment for me. Her complete surrender of her throat so I could spill my seed deep into her.
She glared at me. And I knew she'd spit it out so I only withdrew to rest the head of my cock on her tongue until she swallowed.
"Good, little wretch." I stroked her cheek. "Ready for more?"
She shook her head adamantly. "Please, My Magus. I'm already sore."
"Good!" I smiled pleased. "I want you too sore to walk."
I lifted her up and walked her over to the table. Kicking my pants aside as we reached the table, I tossed her facedown over it.
Like she'd teased me days ago.
I laid along her back. "Feel familiar?"
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