The Hunt

She fled through the forest, little more than a wraith between the dark trees, her white gown in tatters, her hair a golden skein trailing behind her as she gasped and sobbed her way through the tangled undergrowth that clutched at her, threatening to trip her up and send her sprawling to the mossy ground. She could not, must not, fall now. He was close on her heels; she imagined she could feel the hot, steaming breath of the unholy steed he rode against the back of her neck, and a fresh sense of panic lent wings to her feet. She could hear the baying of his hounds, the sound too close for comfort.

As she ran, her mind returned to the events of the previous day...events that had led her to her current headlong flight from unimaginable and unspeakable terror...

"Harvest Queen." She stared at Micah in wide-eyed shock.

"Wh-what?" she managed to blurt out, her heart sinking, the awful sense of her destiny beginning to sink in.

"You will be crowned Harvest Queen tonight," came the reply, no less shocking than it had been a few seconds ago. Jenny's hand crept to her throat, her fingers trembling.

"But I can't be Harvest Queen," she insisted. "The vote was taken last night and it fell on Miranda to be Harvest Queen this year..." her voice trailed off as she saw the shadow of sadness pass across his eyes. "Oh, no," she whispered through a throat suddenly gone dry and tight. "Not Miranda. Please tell me anything but that!" Micah would not meet her eyes as he nodded.

"When? When did she do it?"

"About half an hour after the announcement was made," Micah replied, pain coloring his voice, the voice of a father whose daughter had taken her life rather than face her fate. "That makes you the new Harvest Queen since your name was the second highest to be counted." Jenny grabbed him by the arm.

"What did she do?" she asked fiercely. This time, he looked down at her, his dark blue eyes bright with unshed tears.

"She hanged herself behind our house. From the oak tree." He put his hand over Jenny's where she still held his upper arm. "Promise me!" he said fiercely. "Promise me you will leave tonight and never come back, Jenny! I'll help you. Somehow, I'll get you away from Windhaven where you'll be safe." His eyes bored into her own steady gray ones, but she set her mouth and shook her head, her straight blond hair glinting with red in the light from the huge bonfire beyond.

"No," she said slowly, "I'll not run away. He can do his worst, but I will escape him." It was the elder's turn to look shocked as he stared at her, open-mouthed.

"Jenny, sweet Jenny," he replied, "you know that escape is impossible. When he comes for you there will be nowhere you can run, no place you can hide. This year marks the seventh since he last hunted, and he will have his prize, no matter what...you know that." In spite of her grief at the news of the suicide of her best friend, Jenny was adamant.

"Then I will fight him with my last breath," she declared. She took a deep breath. "I will be ready tomorrow night."

And she was ready. And now here she was, fleeing from him through the dark thicket of trees, cursing the bright moon above that limned her in its silvery glow wherever the trees thinned about her. She cursed him, too, under her breath as she ran. She was beginning to tire now but she dared not stop. She had to reach the bridge over the river; once she crossed over she would be safe, for he and his steed and the baying hounds beside them could not cross running water.

There! She broke through the tree line to see the old stone bridge ahead lying ahead of her. It was close...oh so close, and she put on a fresh burst of speed, drawing deep down inside of her for the last untapped reserve of strength. Her eyes fixed on the bridge, Jenny failed to see the root of an old oak that thrust out of the ground to one side. The very edge of her right foot caught it and she felt herself flying through the air, her arms flailing. She hit the ground hard enough to push air from her lungs but that did not stop her. Feeling fevered breath upon her neck, her hands scrabbled for purchase on the grass beside the track, and with every ounce of desperation in her body she pulled herself forward, toward sanctuary.

She was one hands-breadth away from touching sacred stone when the black-booted foot came down between her shoulder blades, effectively pinning her to the ground. Screaming with mingled frustration and fear, she twisted her head around...and found herself looking up at a nightmare come to life. Her terrified eyes took in a long, lean body clothed entirely in black, a cruel, hawkish face saved only by a pair of brilliant blue eyes and above...oh God above....a set of twisted, curling antlers that grew between shaggy dark hair flowing down to his shoulders.

Fear lent her strength and she shoved hard with her body, lunging forward in a desperate need for sanctuary. Almost at the same time a hard, gauntleted fist gripped her by the hair, effortlessly pulling her back from her goal, causing shockwaves of pain across her scalp. She shrieked, her hands batting uselessly at the glove that held her. Moonlight flashed across her eyes as she was swung up in front of him and brought against the hard body, the fist in her hair causing her to arch her back as he stared at her, at her flushed cheeks, flashing eyes and down, at her breasts heaving inside the tattered white dress that barely contained the soft flesh. He drew his other gauntleted fist down her cheek and over her white throat, his touch causing her to shiver. She stared at him, a doe caught in the light. His hard mouth curved into a sardonic smile.

"White-breasted maiden, why do you flee from your destiny?" he growled deep in his throat as he replaced his fingers with his mouth, trailing it down her neck, inhaling the scent of woman mixed with the heady tang of her terror. She gasped at the sensation of his teeth lightly grazing her sensitive skin as his mouth moved lower and lightly nipped at the soft flesh of one plump, white breast.

"No, please, stop," she whimpered, but he ignored her. He placed one muscular arm around her waist and effortlessly lifted her with him as he mounted the black steed that waited behind him, its red eyes calm now that they prey had been captured. Even the hounds at his feet were still, sitting waiting, watching him. He gave the signal and his mount galloped back into the dark forest, the now-silent hounds running beside its flashing hooves. Thrown across the saddle in front of him, Jenny could do nothing but hold on for dear life.

Then...silence. She thought that they had come to a standstill but when she looked down the ground was gone and they were soaring through the clear night sky. Vertigo washed through her, causing her head to reel as she took in the stars and moon, too close, much too close. There was no time for her to cry out before unconsciousness washed over her, taking her into the arms of the darkness.

Soft light washed over Jenny where she lay, filtering through her eyelids. She groaned softly and opened her eyes, pulling back in shock at the face so close to her own. It was him. Fresh terror spun through her body, weakening her knees and causing a gasp to slip from between her lips. She tried to scramble away from him but it was no use. His hands, ungloved now, caught her wrists, imprisoning her where she lay on a bed of soft furs.

"Jenny, Jenny, sweet Jenny," he murmured as his blue gaze swept over her body, taking in the fullness of her breasts, the narrowness of her waist and the gentle swell of her hips below. She flushed, feeling naked beneath that gaze in spite of the dress that covered her. In spite of her fear, she felt her nipples harden, which did not go unnoticed. He drew in a sharp breath of his own as his eyes darkened with lust. He bent his antlered head toward her.

"Wait!" she said. He lifted his head, his eyes blazing. "How do you know my name?" she asked him. He smiled, showing even white teeth.

"Girl, I am the Lord of the Hunt," came the reply. "How should I not know the name of the white-breasted maiden? Now hush, seven long years have passed since I have last hunted, and my need is great..." He grabbed her wrists in one strong hand, pulling them over her head, while his other fastened on the neck of her white dress. With one sharp tug, he tore the fabric down to her waist, exposing the soft mounds of her breasts, each tipped with an erect, large, dark pink nipple. He growled again in the back of his throat, and lowered his mouth to her breasts, his lips closing over first one hard, tight bud and then the other. In spite of her terror she arched her upper body against his tongue, sensations spiking through her body, to her belly, and further down. She felt a rush of heat and moisture between her thighs and she fought back the sensations that were trying to take over her body.

Still keeping her hands pinned above her head, he used his free hand to pull the soft fabric of her dress up over her knees and her pale thighs, exposing her sex. She had hated being naked beneath the dress when it was put on her earlier that night but Chelle had explained that it was part of the tradition.

"Actually, you're lucky not to be running around completely naked," she had remarked when Jenny had complained, effectively shutting the girl up.

Now, however, she felt herself completely exposed to this -- what was he? Part man, part woodland creature, all god? Jenny felt her head spin as she considered who and what he was. She guessed it didn't matter, the point is, she was now naked before him. She felt a flush stain her cheeks, part embarrassment, part excitement at being so exposed -- so -- open.

He looked at the prey spread out before him. Every seven years he was allowed to hunt the new white-breasted maiden. He wondered if this would be the one to rescue him from his lonely solitude? No maiden before this one had been able to accommodate him, take into herself the cock of a god. He sighed. Sadly, each and every one of them before Jenny had gone completely insane when he had tried to take them. It was his lot, his destiny, to hunt the white-breasted maiden once every seven years, but that did not mean he had to enjoy it. Always, his love of the hunt, the chase, the eventual capture, was tinged with a deep sorrow at what followed after. He looked down at the girl who lay beneath him. Her soft gray eyes were huge in her face, her soft golden hair that streamed down to her buttocks a fall of silk in the firelight, her body...ah gods, what a body she had on her, all sweet curves and gleaming peaks and shadowed valleys. He felt lust surge through his loins as his gaze traveled over her, coming to rest on the juncture of her thighs, where sweet pink lips peeked shyly from beneath a thatch of golden hair.

The pressure on his cock was unbearable. Releasing her, his hands moved swiftly to the buttons on his trousers, as he quickly freed himself from the constraints of the fabric that held him captive. Jenny watched him, lying quietly, knowing that there was no escape. She gasped when she saw him. He was enormous; his long, swollen, thickly-veined shaft a terrifying sight. He saw her alarm and felt ashamed of his need.

He stretched his body beside hers and placed his hand on her cheek, gently cupping her face, turning her to look at him.

"Jenny, my sweet Jenny, do not be afraid of me," he whispered, as he bent and took her mouth with his, his lips moving over her own until his tongue parted them and slid inside, into the warm heat of her mouth. He imagined this was how her sheath would feel around him and he groaned helplessly, feeling his cock twitch. Still, he was patient, and took his time, letting her get used to the feel of his mouth before he slid it down over her jaw to her neck, nibbling her skin, tasting her. Once again he allowed his lips to claim a hard nipple, while one of his hands toyed with the other, drawing a soft whimper from her. He moved his hand down over the smooth white flesh of her belly, to the soft thatch of hair beneath. She stiffened beneath his touch and he soothed her with murmurs, stroking her hip before sliding his hand down further.

The first time he touched the lips of her sex she jumped, her hips arching off the furs that cushioned her body. His fingers probed, feeling wetness, astonishing him. The other white-breasted maidens had not reacted so quickly to his touch, or perhaps he was becoming more practiced with the passage of time. He rubbed his thumb gently over the tiny pink pearl that nestled between her lips and was rewarded with a moan from the girl. He moved his fingers lower and allowed them to slide into her wetness. Jenny was lost in a haze of sensations that his fingers were producing. Her body felt suddenly empty and she welcomed the probing of his fingers inside her wet sheath, gripping them tightly with her inner muscles as he moved them slowly in and out of her.

She was shocked when he knelt between her legs and replaced his fingers with his mouth and tongue. She cried out when he sucked her lips and clit into his mouth, his tongue flicking against her flesh and sliding deep into her wetness. She reached down for him, ignoring the antlers that sprouted from his scalp, grinding her hips against his mouth, waves of pleasure coursing through her body, loosening the muscles of her thighs.

He rose to his knees, pulling furs towards him, bunching them beneath her hips, and lifting her lower body towards him. He was holding his cock in one hand, and she saw a glistening teardrop of liquid on the bulbous head. She held her breath, terrified beyond imagining, as he gently placed the head of his cock between the lips of her sex. He pushed slightly with his hips and moved inside her, just slightly. Not wanting to hurt her, holding his breath himself, he gave her body time to adjust to him before he pushed his cock a little further into her. Jenny felt her tight sheath stretching around his rigid flesh, trying to accommodate his girth. It hurt, but at the same time she didn't want him to stop. She gave an encouraging little push with her own hips, and he slid further inside her. He reached down and massaged her clit gently as he continued to slide his swollen manhood inside the white-breasted maiden. Jenny felt another rush of wetness deep inside and he slid in until he was completely buried inside her.

"Ohhhhhhh," she sighed as she felt him rotate his hips against hers. She looked at him, and caught something on his face she had not expected: a look of tenderness so extreme she thought she must be imagining it.

"Jenny, my Jenny," he whispered as he started sliding himself gently in and out of her, feeling her stretch around him, her inner muscles flexing to accommodate him. Joy and wonder began to flow through him....he had never been able to fill a woman completely before now but he was buried to the hilt in a white-breasted maiden who was looking at him with something like adoration, or perhaps -- love? He gripped her hips and lifted them toward him, impaling her completely on his cock, causing her to cry out. A quick look assured him that she wanted him to continue; her teeth were biting her lower lip as she urged him on with little movements of her own hips. He began to move faster in and out of her, eliciting tiny breathless cries and moans from her, until he began to feel her inner muscles clenching around him. She screamed and he felt liquid bathe his cock as she came, joining her scant seconds later as his cock swelled and he began to spurt inside her, his white-breasted maiden.

After they were done, he held her cradled in his arms, still buried deep inside her. Her arms came around him and she kissed him softly on his lips.

"My lord," she whispered almost imperceptibly.

"My sweet Jenny," he replied. "You are my last hunt, there will be no more white-breasted maidens after you, you are the one my heart has been searching for, all this time. Will you stay with me, sweet Jenny?" Jenny nodded in reply. In his arms, she was Home.