My rut is done, which I know because every inch of my body is exhausted. Overworked muscles tremble and shake. Still, there’s a comfortable peace deep in my chest now that it’s over. Or there was, until I woke up to a witch riding me like a stallion while her magic probes at my asshole.

​

Maybe another man would swat her away, or snap at her to get out, but all I can think is that I’m lucky she’s creative and horny and wants to make me feel good. I groan as I rock back, meeting her magic, letting it push slightly inside. Fuck, my ass is full and her teeth at my neck aren’t helping, because they remind me of how she’s bitten nearly every inch of me, little hellcat that she is.

​

I’ve never met a woman so perfectly matched to me in the bedroom, rut aside.

​

I don’t want to give her up, but I have to. I’ve got to return home to my brother and carry on with all the responsibilities I’ve shirked for the last few days.

​

The witch’s magic moves deeper inside me, but I sense a sadness from her. There’s a missed connection where she’s bringing me pleasure, but it’s almost as if she’s scribing a goodbye letter on my skin, imprinting it there. I dislike it. I dislike it intensely.

Gripping her thigh, I swing her off me and drag her beneath me, pushing one creamy thigh out wide.

​

She chuckles as she pushes her magic farther inside me, and all I can do is gasp around pleasure that heats me from the inside out. When she curls and that fire hits a secret spot deep inside me, shards of heat explode out from my core. Precum drips onto my sweet witch as I fight to concentrate.

​

I open my mouth to speak, but the sound that leaves me is something between a bellow and a cry for help. 

​

The witch captures my lower lip between her teeth, tugging as I reach down and line my length up with her sopping pussy. How is she so fucking wet after days of this? How long did she play with me before I awoke?

​

Not knowing any of that makes me unspeakably hot, so I grip the back of her neck and plunder her mouth with my tongue. I fuck her lips with mine as I slide in and out slowly. Every time I leave her sweet heat, her magic spears me from behind, until I can’t take it any longer. I pound into her with fierce, feral abandon.

​

When she explodes around me, screaming herself hoarse, I finally lose my mind, spilling my seed deep inside her womb. A small, persistent voice in the back of my head hopes that seed will take root, although I know it won’t. I’ve taken enough herbs to knock a horse dead. There are no children in my immediate future, not until—

​

I stop that train of thought as pleasure recedes, and the witch slumps against the pillows, thoroughly spent.

​

My cock aches when I withdraw it from her, and I shudder when she pulls her magic gently out of my ass. I give her a heated look, and she lets out a joyous laugh as I bury my face in her throat and kiss and lick. I just can’t seem to stop touching her. She preens like a cat under my attention, arching her back and moving me about where she wants.

​

Sunlight streams through the window, hitting her bright hair. She’s stunning nestled in the sheets.

​

I could get used to this. Having her underneath me, experimenting with what feels good to us both. I want more than this rut with her. But when I look up, her expression has gone from pleasure to something fiercely guarded.

​

“You seem to be on the other side of…things.” Her tone is as guarded as her expression, full of caution.

​

I give her a nod as I kiss the side of her breast, nuzzling gently as I sit up.

​

“Will you go home?” Her voice is so small, so…sad?

​

“I’m needed.” That’s all I say, and I hate myself as I say it. It sounds like I’ve left a whole family somewhere while I’ve been here with her, and that’s not what I mean. My brother needs me. Ruling a fae kingdom without a huge family to play the political games as a challenge, to say the very least. It’s been just him and me for a very long time. And we’ve succeeded, because we are an excellent—if deadly—team.

​

The witch nips at her lower lip and sits up, swinging her legs off the bed. The soft globes of her ass sway and flex as she crosses the room and finds her clothing, left in a clean pile by a servant in the early hours of the morning.

​

“I suppose I should go,” she murmurs, but she seems to be talking herself into it more than anything. With a ferocity that surprises me, I realize I don’t want her to. I could take her home; I could show her the fae kingdom and introduce her to my brother. I could—

​

I stop that train of thought. She seems ready to move on, and I made promises to make this a fun few days when I was at the very edge of my sanity. The least I can do is keep them now. The fun is over.

​

Sliding out of bed, I search through my pack and withdraw my coin purse, noting how she freezes, her muscles tense and her gaze angry.

​

“Witch, I—” Gods, I still don’t know her name, not even after everything we shared. Calling her ‘my witch’ felt so godsdamned good I never got any further.

​

She shrugs. “It’s fifteen silver to cross the bridge.”

​

I hand her ten times that, enough to get her almost anywhere in the human world, if that’s what she wants. She takes it without looking and shoves it in the pocket of her long woolen skirt. I don’t think she even cares about the money.

​

“Where will you go?” I ask. An ache takes up residence in my chest at the thought of her alone on the road, at the whims of whoever chased her underground in the first place.

​

She shrugs as she buttons up the front of the corset. I nearly whine when bountiful breasts disappear behind the pale fabric. I’d like to unbutton them with my teeth and take her back to bed. It’s not the rut talking, either.

​

I try not to examine why that might be. Several days ago, I bought her for the price of a troll fare. I rutted her for days without care or thought for how she felt about it. Sure, I made her come too, I’m not a complete monster, but—

​

This won’t do; it’s not fair to her. The least I can do is give her a good send-off. I tilt her chin up to find purple fire dancing in her eyes, but it feels sad to me, and my own magic is morose.

​

I don’t want to let her go, but I must. My tumultuous kingdom isn’t the safest place for a witch still figuring out her power. 

“Where will you go?”

​

She shifts from one foot to the other. Another shrug. “Don’t know. I’ve never had the opportunity to explore the world before.” After another moment passes, she looks up with a seemingly forced smile. “I’d like to see more of this realm. I don’t know there is to be found here, but I’d like to.”

​

“Then you should,” I say quietly. “Be wary of strangers who like to take advantage of beautiful women, but enjoy this world. There is so very much to see here that the human world couldn’t offer you.”

​

She nods, nipping at her swollen lower lip. I should say something, but when she spins on her heel I shove a fist in my mouth to avoid begging her to come home with me. 

​

“Goodbye,” she says quietly as she pulls the door open.

​

“Goodbye, witch,” I say, but she is already gone.