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But instead of gliding my fingers out of her and entering from behind, I pivot my hips, thrusting my cock against the folds of her ass. The impact shoves my fingers deeper into her.

A startled moan cracks from Juniper’s mouth at the sensation.

A smirk coils across my face. This is yet another new one for us.

I do it again, rocking my hips forward, the motion propelling my fingers higher, deeper still. Like this, I maintain a sinuous pace. I pump my cock from behind, which pumps my hand up Juniper’s cunt from the front, which draws gravelly noises from her lungs.

“Ah,” Juniper gasps. “That’s…oh, Fables.”

“Open your thighs more, luv,” I instruct. “And brace the window.”

She flattens her palms against the glass and broadens her stance, thighs splayed wide. I put my whole body into it. My hips siphon, working my cock against her, the force throwing my fingers in and out of her.

My chin lands on her shoulder, and her temple sweats against my jaw, and we watch, and watch, and watch. My hips unleash, charging forth. The brunt of my dick causes my fingers to strike through her slick grip.

The pace is relentless. Juniper snaps her hips into my hand, her wetness leaking all over me. With each piston, the friction builds from my balls to the base of my cock, and straight up to the head.

I fuck her like this, my waist hauling forward, the momentum driving my fingers higher, deeper, harder. Fractured moans peal from my woman’s lips. Flames from the fireplace hurl light through the space, but the whole place could burn to the fucking ground, and I don’t think we’d stop, can’t stop, won’t ever stop.

Juniper’s soaked walls tense. A plaintive noise spills from her tongue, and I want my cock in her so badly, I might scream.

But not yet, because I’m going to make her come about six or seven times tonight. This is only the first.

I reel my hips, breaking into quick, shallow thrusts. My fingers are dripping from her pleasure. They ply her with every pass, curling into her slot, drenching her.

She shouts, whisks her body into me, knowing I need it, too. I’ll always need it from her.

We ride each other. She launches backward and I cast forward, our bodies colliding, slamming together from both ends. Juniper’s hands fly from the window and rip through my hair while she slings her cunt atop my fingers and punches her ass into my dick.

“Puck,” she begs. “Come for me, Puck.”

Oh, fucking hell. She didn’t.

“Come on,” she entreats, swiping her tongue under my jaw. “Please. For me.”

But yes, she did.

Stamina renewed, I growl and swing my hips against her. The force plows my fingers into her so deeply that she moans, and moans, and fucking moans.

The tension ratchets up, then springs apart. It hits us at the same time. Juniper gives a hard, prolonged cry, the walls of her pussy quaking around my knuckles.

I bellow my pleasure, the release spasming through my cock. Warm fluid surges from the slit. Swearing to Fables, I try to cup my hands over it—something a satyr usually wouldn’t do—but Juniper shakes her head and presses herself in, letting my fluid permeate the tail of her shirt.

We roll together, riding out the aftershocks. My chest pounds for air, my breathing torn like a sheet. Juniper sighs, her fingers doing that thing they do after sex, brushing through my scalp.

And when it’s over, we sure as hell don’t slump.

Not us. Not this time.

We move in unison. Only then do our eyes quit the window.

My fingers slip out of Juniper, and she whirls just as I hoist her against me. My mouth crushes with hers. Our tongues writhe as I push the gaping tunic off her shoulders, promising myself to wash it later.

The fabric puddles on the floor. I palm Juniper’s thighs and heft my woman off the ground. Kissing her senseless, I carry her across the living room and mount the stairs.

She laughs into my mouth. I let out a half-snarl, half-chuckle.

The library I’d built for her is on a new level above our bedroom loft, an addition I’d erected around the oak’s central trunk. I take the steps three at a time, stride into her sanctuary with its desk, bookshelves, and oversized reading chairs. I’d once found Juniper asleep in one of the seats and watched her for an hour before scooping her up and taking her to bed.