Fern's Forbidden Afternoon

The afternoon sun filtered through the wooden shutters of the inn room, casting warm stripes across the bedsheets where Fern lay pinned beneath him. Her violet eyes—usually so composed, so carefully controlled—were wide and glassy now, her breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps that made her chest heave against his weight.

"Hik... hik...!" The sounds escaped her unbidden, her normally stoic demeanor shattered by the relentless rhythm of his hips slapping against hers.

She shouldn't be doing this. The thought kept trying to surface through the haze of pleasure clouding her mind. She was supposed to be traveling with Frieren, learning magic, becoming a proper mage. Not here, not like this, legs spread wantonly while a man she barely knew drove himself deep inside her clutching heat.

But gods, he was big. Bigger than Stark, bigger than anyone she'd ever imagined. Each thrust dragged against her inner walls in a way that made her toes curl and her fingers dig into the sheets beneath her.

"That face..." he groaned above her, his grip tightening on her thigh as he angled deeper. "Fuck, you're tight. Bet your little boyfriend never got this deep."

Fern's face burned crimson at his words. Stark wasn't her boyfriend, not really, but the implication made something twist hot and needy in her belly. The comparison was unfair—Stark was sweet and gentle and careful, while this was raw and filthy and wrong in all the ways her body craved.

"N-no..." she whimpered, but her hips betrayed her, rolling up to meet each thrust, taking him deeper, needing more.

Her shirt was completely unbuttoned, her skirt hiked up around her waist, leaving her completely exposed to his hungry gaze. She could feel his eyes roaming her body—the flush spreading across her chest, the way her nipples had pebbled tight and aching, the glistening mess between her thighs where they joined.

"Please," she gasped, not even sure what she was begging for. For him to stop? To go faster? To fill the emptiness that had been building inside her since they'd started?

He shifted his angle and suddenly stars exploded behind her eyes. "There!" she cried out, her back arching off the bed, her hands flying to his shoulders to pull him closer. "Right there, don't stop, please don't—"

"Taking you bare," he growled, his pace becoming erratic, desperate. "Gonna fill you up, little mage. Gonna pump you so full you'll be leaking me for days."

Fern's mind should have rebelled at the thought. No protection, no precautions, just hot seed flooding her unprotected womb. It was dangerous, irresponsible, completely unlike her.

But when he slammed deep one final time and she felt the first hot pulse of his release painting her insides, something inside her broke completely.

"Yes!" she screamed, her inner walls clamping down around him, milking him desperately as her own climax crashed over her. "Cum inside me, fill me up, please, I need it, I need—"

He groaned long and low, his hips jerking as spurt after spurt of thick, sticky warmth flooded her deepest places. Fern could feel every pulse, every jet of seed claiming her, marking her, making her his in the most primal way possible.

And gods help her, she loved it.

She shouldn't. She knew she shouldn't. But as she lay there trembling, feeling his essence already beginning to leak out around him, mixing with her own arousal to create a mess between her thighs, she couldn't deny the satisfaction curling through her.

"Good girl," he panted, still buried to the hilt, giving a few shallow thrusts to work himself deeper. "Take it all. Every drop."

Fern whimpered, her legs wrapping around his waist to keep him inside, her body greedy for more even as her mind reeled with the implications. She was going to be walking back to camp with him dripping down her thighs, his seed slowly making its way deeper, searching for—

The thought made her shiver with a fresh wave of arousal.

She was supposed to be responsible. She was supposed to be proper.

But right now, with her chest heaving and her womb full of hot cream, Fern had never felt more alive.