I drag—shit, I don’t even know her name—the witch who trembles slightly as I press her forward through the crowd. My sheer size forces other beings out of the way until we’ve got a front row view of the centaurs fucking women on breeding posts. I’ve never seen this outside the fighting pits in my home kingdom, but I’d heard any pleasure conceivable could be found here at the troll market, and that is proving to be true.

​

In a semicircle around the centaur barn, merfolk in giant vats of water offer oral pleasure aided by the beautiful fins running down their forearms. The appendages wave delicately in the water, tickling the males who’ve chosen that particular pleasure.

The crowd is full of sex, too. The couple next to us fucks with wild abandon up against the fence withholding the crowd from entering the centaurs’ domain.

​

I’ve heard this market called the ‘filthy underground’, and that proves to be true as the male next to us comes and creamy strings explode all over the other male’s back. It drips all over the cobblestones at my feet, and the scent of it pulls a hazy red veil over my vision.

​

Pure lust. I’ll be reduced to that soon.

​

My impending rut demands I take the woman, but she looked so fascinated by the centaurs, and the reality is that fae thrive off of foreplay. Getting her riled up for a good, hard fucking will be necessary. I’m far larger than her. Things are…proportional.

I press my dick to the curve of her ass, nestling it between generous cheeks as I grip both wrists and set her hands gently on the railing. Someone injured her, someone aside from the troll, but I’ll address that afront after my rut is over. Guardian fae like myself operate with honor, although she’s about to be on the receiving end of the most out-of-control version of me anyone has ever seen.

​

The witch grips the railing tightly, her body tense as she watches the centaur closest to us. His big hands are on his woman’s thighs, his eyes greedily drinking in the way she’s splayed before him, a feast on his table waiting to be devoured. He’s already taken her at least once judging by the come flooding out of her onto the stable floor.

​

I fought alongside centaurs when my brother and I took over our kingdom; this one’s just getting started with his partner. They’re notoriously vigorous lovers.

​

On cue, he leans between her thighs and inhales as a splash of cum hits the railing next to my witch’s hand. She startles, hissing as she grabs her shoulder, and I shoot the minotaur who’s currently exploding all over the fence a dirty look. Shoving my way between them, I press her hard in front of me, shielding her from anyone else’s touch.

​

She doesn’t risk a glance up at me, but sags with seeming appreciation into my much larger frame. 

​

In front of us, the centaur snuffles between the woman’s thighs, scenting her repeatedly as she cries out at his tease. Then with a giant heave of his enormous body, he mounts the stand she’s presented on, his upper body coming over top of hers as his swinging cock slips between her thighs and drives home. Its tip presses against her stomach muscles, but she writhes nonetheless.

​

The magic that allows him to take her fills my nose with an unpleasant, musky scent. It’s a base magic, unlike the fae magic most of my kind utilize. His magic is animalistic, lacking the elegance of my people, whose ancient magic beget almost every other kind.

​

Still, watching a centaur fuck gets me hard every time. He grunts as he pounds into the woman, his haunches shaking as the woman in my arms grips the stable railing, her body shaking.

​

I have to get my hands on my witch, and where normally I’d pursue her, there’s just no time. Already my vision narrows and my cock won’t go down. It’s pulsing with its own heartbeat, throbbing against her ass as I consider whipping it out and beating her with it. Just a little. Just to take the edge off.

​

Instead, I slip one hand around front and down her skirt, settling my big fingers just above her pussy. She stiffens and murmurs something under her breath, something about doing this to be free.

​

Normal me would hate that I’m something she has to put up with, but nearly-in-a-rut me just wants to prove to her how fun fucking me will be. In front of us, the centaur goes feral on the hapless woman, her screams rising to match his bellows as my witch’s breathing halts. Whether it’s nerves from my touching her or simple heat from watching the show, I couldn’t say, but when I slide my fingers through her curls to brush her pussy lips, she’s absolutely soaked.

​

“Godsdamn,” I murmur in her ear, curling my larger frame over top of hers. “Enjoy, pretty girl, enjoy my fingers fucking you while you watch this absolute filth.”

​

She gasps, and I use that moment to slip those fingers inside her, stroking softly against her inner walls as one of her hands comes to my forearm. Blunt nails dig in as she throws her head back against my chest and cries out. Her hair coasts soft and ticklish over my arm and even that is so fucking womanly, so sensual.

​

Gods, I think she’s nearly ready to come, and I’ve just gotten started.

​

My lust demands more of her, all of her, so I thrust my hips against her ass in time with my fingers in her pussy, rubbing the heel of my hand against her clit as her cries rise in volume. I grunt against the side of her neck, teasing and kissing her soft skin. We shudder together as my orgasm rises—nothing will ever turn me on like making a partner come.

​

She might not have fully chosen this, chosen me, but I want it to be good for her. Her scent wraps around my mind until they’re nothing left but red lust and the smell of my witch. My body coils tighter and tighter, that needy desperation growing in my core as she leans her head back against my chest, clinging to my forearm as her cries rise into breathy, panting moans.

​

When she comes all over my fingers, I spurt in my pants, orgasm overtaking me as the centaur pulls out of his partner and sprays a load of cum all over the female’s body. My witch floods me with her own release, screaming out as the crowd around us goes wild. Half the beings watching are jacking off or fucking someone else. 

​

My witch comes down with me, our orgasms fading as I breathe hard against her neck. I can’t help placing a line of tender, open-mouthed kisses along her exposed skin where the fabric slipped from that creamy shoulder.

​

I hope that left her sated since she’s limp in my arms, but my orgasm has only just begun to scratch that itch.

​

The witch turns, green eyes hooded as she breathes heavily. 

​

“That was…” her voice trails off as she stares at me, scanning me for a sign of…what? 

​

Pain twists like a dagger at the base of my spine and I bring my forehead to hers.

​

“My rut is here, little witch, and I need to get us out of here, right fucking now, before I tear this place apart. Tell me you’ll join me, please.”

​

One red brow lifts. “And if I say no?”

​

Gulping, I run a hand through my hair. Even that produces an uncomfortable pleasure that borders on pain. 

​

“I’d likely chase you,” I admit. “I want you, and I want to ask you this before I lose my mind to the need.”

​

She threads her fingers through mine and rounds me, pulling us away from the continuing performance at our backs.

“Well then,” she says with a sassy glance over her shoulder. “Shall we?”