Paranormal Fantasies:
A Promotional Collection of 14 Erotic Supernatural Stories

Compiled by Annabel Bastione and Brandy Corvin

SMASHWORDS EDITION
Copyright © 2012 by the relevant authors
Cover image Copyright © Ben Heys, licensed through Bigstockphoto.com and designed by Shin

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the seller website and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Introduction
Are you interested in sizzling erotic stories with a paranormal twist? Vampires, werewolves, ghosts and demons suit your fancy? Do you want to get to know more popular erotica authors who write in the paranormal erotica subgenre? With 14 free stories in this promotional anthology, you'll get a pretty good start delving into the sexy realms of the unexplained!

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Table of Contents
Pack Pals in Treeing Some Cooch by Annabel Bastione
When the werewolf and his stepbrother Stefan enter the spooky forest intent on passing through, they did not count on meeting a hostile Dryad, Lillian who uses vines like tentacles! How far will they go as Lillian's 'plaything' so that she allows them to pass through the forest unharmed?

Fangs of Desire by Brandy Corvin
Feeling buzzed from all the cocktails she drank at the bar, Jessica gets picked up by a stranger handsome beyond her wildest dreams! Back at his place, he confesses before they do anything, that he's actually a... vampire? Now that she knows, will Jessica refuse her one-night stand, or is too tipsy to care? This is the first title in the 'Fangs of a Vampire' trilogy.

The Shadow of the Wolf by Adriana Rossi
Robert has just settled into a quiet, forest town to begin his career as a novelist. After a frightening encounter with a wolf, a handsome stranger appears at his door asking questions about his nasty bite.

Blood and Black Leather by Cassandra Court
It's hard to make a living as a professional vampire hunter these days, but Jen's not in it for the money! She's got her prey cornered, and she won't let him go until she's gotten exactly what she wants... and he's loving every second of it!

Fuck on the Wild Side by Jessi Bond
Fiction editor Matt Bartlett has a secret. Once a month, a strange fever takes him and leaves him crazed and sex-starved, no matter how much he gets. But what will happen when he goes into heat while trapped in his apartment with flighty novelist Jack Archer, bane of his existence? And what secrets is Jack hiding when the full moon comes around?

Howl by JJ Collins
As the alpha male of his werewolf pack, Malcolm is responsible for them -- including discipline. When a rogue omega male is captured, Malcolm's duty is to instruct him as to who the alpha is and put the errant were in his place. Sometimes, it's good to be the alpha.

Shared by Vampires by Layla Cole
When vampire Doms Jonathan and Eric get their hands on a new sub, they are eager to break her in. Rose made it through her first night with them, but will she be able to handle it when they take her for the first time?

Paradise by Lorelai Phoenix
Rescued from violence by a dark angel, Lilith is sequestered in a tower, safe from the evils of the world. She is drawn to the mysterious stranger, but can she overcome her fears to express her love to the man who saved her soul?

The Hunt by N.S. Charles
A battle with the fearsome denizens of the dead sees the warrior Dalin with a new charge, the beautiful Anessa, a maiden eager to please.  But something just doesn’t seem right. When things begin to take a turn for the worse, can Dalin resist Anessa’s alluring, yet supernatural charm?

Letting Go by Polly J. Adams
She almost turned and left, but she couldn't. She was drawn to him. She had to be here. She had to join him. She couldn't let him go. Ever. Intensely passionate and erotic... a story of love, loss and sexual abandon, from the author of You and Easy As One, Two, Three.

Pack Initiation by Serena St. Claire
When Caleb, a new werewolf with no pack, helps rescue Alex from a bear attack, Alex offers to introduce him to the pack. But first, the alpha's need to make sure Caleb is really pack material.

Riding the Snake by Victoria Scarlett
Krana's village sends him up a mountain with an offering to their god.  What they don't tell him is that HE is the offering.

The Werewolf Whisperer 1: Sit, Stay, Good Boy by Victorie Lazer
Mark is determined to get to the bottom of his boyfriend's dark secret, but when he decides to snoop and stumbles in on a growling werewolf, he realizes that secret was darker than he'd ever imagined! Fortunately, he's got a trick up his sleeve: He's a professional dog-trainer!

Cry of the Wolf by Vivian London
Alois is an innkeeper with a dark secret: he's a werewolf. He's managed to hide it from the rest of the village for years. But when a rogue werewolf kills a villager, it attracts the attention of the bounty hunter, Adlar, and threatens to expose Alois' secret.
However, Adlar has a secret of his own...
Pack Pals in Treeing Some Cooch
By
Annabel Bastione

Copyright © 2012 by Annabel Bastione

* * * * *

The forest loomed over us, its presence an overshadowing power, as if we were merely worshippers to the trees that reached heavens above. I peered into it, trying to see beyond the few trees and thick undergrowth that concealed its secrets. My instincts telling me there was something dangerous lurking in it.
"You're sure this is the only way?" I asked.
"According to the map, yes," my stepbrother Stefan replied.
Damn, I cursed silently. We had just started out on our journey to find Stefan's father, my stepfather, Louis and lying ahead would be our first challenge. Granted it was Louis that first gave Stefan, and subsequently I, this great gift, this powerful curse that could help us overcome any adversary. But still, the lack of experience growing up in the world made me fearful of it and what was to lie ahead.
"Alright then, you ready?"
I nodded. We had no choice, and I was eager to see how my transformed body fared in new environments. I watched as Stefan took off his shirt, revealing a toned, muscular body riddled with scars from previous altercations. The scars did nothing but to make his body even more beautiful in my opinion. I took my shirt and dropped my provisions at one side.
Letting myself relax as my mind drew a blank, I let my animalistic instincts and urges take over me as I felt that strange, yet all too familiar feeling over transformation. Before I knew it, I held up my hands and saw the claws on my paws. I turned to Stefan, he too had transformed into the most handsome werewolf I had seen.
Granted, it was the middle of day, but we were always more like shape shifters than actual werewolves. We were still in control of ourselves, unlike our feral cousins that have lost all reason, hiding in the wild and only transforming during a full moon. Like I said, they have lost control.
My senses told me that we were alone and that no one had seen us. Good. Werewolves were ostracized by the human community in general. I knew it firsthand, where my father participated in a hunting trip commissioned by the village chief to take down the werewolf. Sadly, it was my father that ended up being the prey.
I smirked at the thought, how ironic that the one creature my father spent his whole life fighting would end up being his own son?
"Ready?" Stefan grunted. Of course, to regular humans a werewolf's speak would seem at best, barking and at worse, a blood curdling howl. But since I gained the ability, I could understand the language of not just other werewolves, but the normal wolves clearly too.
"Yea," I howled as we both headed into the forest in quick, light steps. We were agile as hell, and had spent the first two years, when our village had yet to know our terrible secret, training and playing in the nearby woods. We climbed over fallen logs, ran through the treetop canopies, played extreme games of hide and seek and tag amongst other things. I can safely say I am thankful of those times because they helped me shape the agile me that I am today.
Running through the forest, Stefan climbed up a tree and began making his way through the treetops, using tree branches with masterful, light steps. Because I was tougher and better at combat, I, on the other hand, preferred to stick to the ground where Stefan could warn me of impending danger and I could fight whoever dared cross our paths.
The forest twisted and loomed. The dense undergrowth soon cut off the line of sight from each other. Even so, our enhanced senses still managed to let us track each other's position. You do not spend years training with someone as close to you as your stepbrother without having his scent firmly imprinted in your memory.
I heard a howl in the distance. I stopped, it was Stefan's voice. It was not his usual, confident, husky voice, but one of confusion, curiosity and even, a slight hint of terror. Strange, for him to signal for help like that, it must be something unexpectedly powerful. I barged my way through the undergrowth, following his scent and the direction of his voice.
Through the undergrowth, I could hardly see three feet in front of me, too much plant life in the way. But when I emerged into a clearing, the world suddenly seemed strange. I looked around, vines of poison ivy seemed to dominate the place, snaking its way up trees, forming the pavement on the ground. Strange, the way it moved, and at such an inhuman speed too, would make any being think that it was either magic or alive. I saw Stefan up ahead, standing there motionless.
"Stefan!" I howled.
He did not move, it was as if he did not even register my presence.
This was beyond strange. I approached with caution.
Apart from our entire environment, there was nothing strange about the place. My ears heard nothing unusual and my eyes detected nothing out of the ordinary. My nose sensed no other living being, only the increasing weird smell that reminded me plant-based poisons.
Wait, poison? My eyes widened at the realization as I frantically stopped myself from proceeding further.
I turned around and tried to get away as fast as possible, but suddenly found my body too heavy and weak to move. What was happening to me? Did the poison enter my system through the air? How can it react so fast?
My run turned into a stagger as my gait became awkward.
My stagger turned into a crawl as I could barely move my limps.
Before long, I found myself motionless, feeling like the weight of the world rested on my back. My poisoned muscles refused to work, yet my brain and senses were not affected. What a devious poison, I thought as I contemplated my doom at the first leg of my journey.
* * * * *
What? I'm still alive?
I opened my eyes. My body still could not move, but I sensed a presence behind me. I would turn my head, but my neck muscles felt so tired and heavy any encouragement would lead to my body responding with waves of pain.
I sighed, whoever it was, especially a werewolf hunter, would kill for any opportunity to take down two werewolves just motionless in the forest alone, assuming Stefan was still in the same position behind me.
"Ahh! What is this! HELP!" I heard Stefan yowl.
My blood turned into ice as I heard him screaming. What exactly was the being behind me that could make the fearless Stefan cower in fear? I felt cold drops of sweat forming on my back, soaking into my fur.
"AHH! AHH!" Stefan continued yowling, and there was nothing I could do to help him.
"Not there! Not in my ass! HELP!" My eyes widened in shock. What in the world was the being doing to Stefan? Was… Was it raping a werewolf?
I cried, tears running down my yellow eyes, my black irises dilated with fear.
"Hey… Hey, it actually feels… Kinda good!" Stefan grunted.
I was in shock. I knew from young he was a bit bi-curious, but never did I expect him to say something like that, awakening his inner desires in the middle of a looming forest! I was overcome more by curiosity than by sadness and fear.
If Stefan could speak, could I?
"Stefan!" I howled, turns out I could. Haha! Yea!
"Stefan!" I howled again, louder this time, praying desperately for him to save me.
Behind me, I heard him apparently conversing with the being, "Yea, that's my stepbrother, please free him too."
My heart leapt, that's the Stefan I knew and loved! He had somehow overcome the paralyzing poison and would now save me like an older brother should!
Something started to slither all over my body. I felt it, but could not tell what it was, until I saw a vine of poison ivy move in front of me. Oh my goodness, I thought, is this really happening?
It slithered at first, before wrapping itself around my limbs. I would have resisted, but in this exceptional circumstance, I was thankful to be able to move once again when the ivy carried me up and turned me around.
My gaze fell up the most beautiful dryad I had ever seen. She had neck length, light blonde hair, a shapely, toned body with tenacious curves. Her face was radiant and the poison ivy surrounding her seemed to wrap her around her limbs to. If not for the few leaves and vines covering her important places, I would have probably have lost control and became a feral wolf already.
Most importantly, the poison ivy vines seemed to obey her every command. She could move freely, and with the flick of a finger, the ivy that suspended me in mid air brought me closer to her for inspection.
I felt myself being brought nearer and nearer to her, until I was face to face with this beautiful, yet seemingly deadly creature. Her piercing copper brown eyes seemed to look into my very soul. I looked back, in awe, curiosity, and I hate to admit it, but also with a slight tinge of fear.
After what felt like forever, she opened that seductive mouth of her.
"I can see you have no evil intentions coming into my forest."
"Yes Miss. Please release him and we'll be on our way now." Stefan quipped, flailing his arms on the ground.
She sighed, "Alright, but go back from whence you came and never return!"
The vines holding my legs moved in opposite directions, pulling my legs apart.
"Wait, what are you doin- mmmph!" A startled me growled as a vine entered my mouth, heading towards my esophagus.
The ivy on my torso bent me over; my worst fears were coming true. I shut my eyes and braced myself as I felt a vine running itself over my fleshy behind before slowly entering my asshole.
Some treatment this was, I thought, as pain mixed with a hint of pleasure surged through my beastly form. The vines in my mouth and my asshole started moving in and out, rubbing itself in my channels.
"Nooo…" I cried softly as I got simultaneously ass and mouth fucked. My saliva provided decent lubrication as I felt less pain when the vine in my mouth fucked me. But the one in my ass was terrible. Yet, I felt the vine secret some sort of sap as it drilled my ass, lubricating it and letting it fuck me faster.
How humiliating, to be suspended and fucked by plants in front of such a beautiful dryad. I felt my reason coming back to me as I was lost in thought, before noticing the fur on my arms vanishing beneath my skin. I was receding back to human form.
I was surprised, at the strange turn of events. From excitedly entering the unknown till getting double penetrated in the ass and mouth by plants in front of such a beautiful creature. But most of all, I was surprised at myself. I always considered myself straight, but I never knew my body would be so aroused by getting fucked in front of such a beauty.
But wait, if the vines were fucking me, who was controlling the vines? I looked up, her radiant face hide her piercing stare well as she clinically swished and flicked her fingers.
It was her. She was the one humiliating me with those vines! My cheeks blushed red as I found myself enjoying it too.
I felt the vines moving faster and faster as their thrusting became more vigorous.
"YES! YES!" I heard her scream? If the vines were a part of her, did that mean she was getting off on what she was doing to me? Either way, her breathing grew heavier as her body started quivering uncontrollably. She must have been having an intense orgasm as I saw the leaf covering her pussy turn dark green from getting wet. At the same time, I felt the vines release some sort of sticky, slippery sap down my throat and up my ass. My body temperature rose as I felt strangely aroused beyond my limit like this. I felt my loins stirring as my member grew harder and harder from the arousal. 
I wanted to fuck the hot dryad in front of me. If only I could move… Wait, I could! The vines released me as I fell to the ground. I could move again!
"YES!" I cried with joy. Stefan rushed up and gave me the biggest hug I had received from him in a long time.
We both looked up, the creature seemed spent from 'releasing' us; her panting body lay prone, suspended by vines.
"Who are you?" Stefan asked, he seemed even more entranced by her than I was.
"Lillian," came a reply from above. I burned the sound of her seductive voice into memory. Now I could recognize her voice anywhere.
"What happened to us, what did you do?" Stefan continued.
"You unknowingly entered my domain and inhaled my poison. I gave enough antidote for you to return safety from whence you came. Now leave." she replied as she snaked away, her presence getting fainter and fainter.
"No, wait!" Stefan cried, but it was too late. Before we knew it, she was gone, disappearing into the mass of poison ivy in our background.
"Let's go," I said, putting a hand on his shoulder.
He stood there, processing all that had transpired, before nodding his head.
Transforming back into my beast form, I followed him as he retraced our steps, back out of the forest.
* * * * *
That night, at the local tavern near the edge of the forest, we sat and drank. Asking around regarding the forest only yielded looks of fear and warnings never to go there for 'evil lurks in the forest'.
"Right, a beautiful evil that is." I remarked to Stefan.
"If evil was that beautiful, I'd have no problem fucking It." he snorted.
"Agreed," as we raised our mugs of mead to a toast, clinking them together.
"Guess the forest is impassable for now," I sighed.
"No, it's not."
"You and me both experienced that today. It is impossible," I pleaded reason with him.
Seeing the wild look in his eyes, I knew it would not be possible to convince him.
"It IS possible; Lillian gave us enough antidote to return right? What if she 'gave' us enough to pass through the forest?" he encouraged.
I snorted, "Right, and you want to meet and experience something like that again."
"Yeppers," Stefan quipped, "I don't mind, and from your face this afternoon, I could tell you were enjo-"
"Shut the hell up, Stefan. Before I punched you in the face," I interrupted tersely, wishing not to be reminded of earlier events.
Stefan shrugged, "Well, it's either we try again, or we take a two week detour into the canyon where we risk being robbed by bandits or hunted by vampires."
I growled without realizing it, vampires were our most hated enemy. Our kind and theirs have waged war for centuries, and only recently had there been a stalemate, where we do not encroach on their territories and they did likewise for us. Any altercation with them could upset the delicate balance and spawn the restart of war, which had to be avoided at all costs given how the wolf side was weak and still gathering strength.
"So," I sighed loudly.
I lamented, "We try again tomorrow? I might want to spend the night with one of these tavern wenches first," looking around at the large bosomed women running around carrying jugs of mead in each hand, serving travelers.
"No."
I looked at him in slight surprise. Yeah, Stefan was crazy sometimes, but to re-enter a forest full of danger where we were lucky to escape with only a sore ass to show for? 
I shook my head. Nope, not going to happen.
"We go now." Stefan said, growling slightly.
"You liked it, I liked it, we can go back, enjoy ourselves, and pass through the forest. Tonight's a full moon, we can see, hear and smell better, and the moon increases our powers. We will not get another perfect chance like this." I detected a hint of desperation in his voice.
Given the chance, he would go back to the forest in an instant, but he still needed me to watch his back. We werewolves are social creatures, hunting in packs. But now that our kind are far and few between, it was always better to travel with as many companions as we could. The potential adventure gained for Stefan was definitely not worth my absence.
I sighed. He was always like this: rash, impulsive, forever chasing after his endless desires.
But now, for the first time in our lives, his goals and mine were aligned. What I wouldn't give to see beautiful Lillian again one more time, I finally admitted to myself.
Smiling slightly, I looked Stefan in the eye and sighed, "Alright, we go, but let us finish our mead first!"
I swear I had never seen Stefan more excited.
"Hell yea brother! That's the spirit!" He exclaimed, downing his mead and slapping my back.
* * * * *
We found ourselves at the edge of the forest again. It seemed far darker than its surroundings, adding to its mysteriousness. Now that I was here, I felt a faint feeling of trepidation as we both transformed.
Stefan was right; the full moon that night really did increase our powers. I closed my eyes, my ears could hear a cricket chirp from half a mile away. The lingering scent of mead was so strong I could follow it back to the tavern by smell alone if I wanted.
My body felt like it could run faster, jump higher and carry heavier objects while the bloodlust within me was even more overpowering. Yes, the full moon did increase my powers, but it also made my beast form harder to control. I felt the feral urges come time and again, but only on a full moon like this would it be almost overpowering.
Stefan growled, signaling me to follow him. Together, we disappeared into the dense undergrowth.
We made the same movements, his agile body scaling the trees while I charged resolutely after his scent. I neared the dense undergrowth that clouded my senses earlier that day and began to slow down, opting to take to the trees after Stefan instead.
Following him would normally take no effort, but the full moon increased his powers far more for him than it did for me. I found myself becoming out of breath as I desperately tried to stay on his tail.
Soon, I found his presence still, unmoving. He must have found her, I thought as I grew nearer. Bursting out into the same clearing from the afternoon, I found him at edge of where Lillian's poison ivy vines could reach.
"This is where she disappeared," I heard him growl.
I snarled back, "You smelled that, it's faint, but we can follow her trail."
Stefan sniffed the air, and let out a feral howl, "Let's go!"
We moved through the forest at lightning speed, following the faint scent of a female mixed in poison ivy.
We chanced upon another clearing. Looking up, I saw that we ended up at the bottom of a cliff.
"Where is she? Her scent ends here." Stefan growled. 
"That's right," an all too familiar seductive voice rang out.
We both jumped, turning around, we found Lillian setting her vines upon us.
"I let you go and you dare return?" barely concealing the thinly veiled hostility in her voice.
"Wait, wait!" Stefan yowled, waving his strong, furry arms at her, "We want to talk."
"Talk? About what?" Lillian raised an eyebrow. I could tell she was intrigued.
"We mean you no harm," I found myself speaking up now, "we just need to pass through this forest."
A soft sigh escaped Lillian, but we still could hear it thanks to our enhanced hearing.
"It's not like I mind you passing through," Lillian started, "but up ahead are dangerous plants that even I cannot control," she sighed again.
"They will attack anyone who is not a plant or lacks the plant blood within them," she continued sadly.
"Then how do we bypass those creatures?" Stefan persisted, he had come to far only to go home now.
Lillian looked at the both of us, "you're sure you're willing to do what it takes to get past them?"
"Yes." we replied in unison.
"Alright," she smiled, "you'll need to turn back into your human form, and enter me for me to release my pheromones onto you," spreading her legs.
The ivy released Lillian as she stepped onto the ground, waiting for us.
Oh my goodness, I literally could not believe this was happening. I almost lost control of my feral urges and it was only with great difficulty that I could suppress them and change back.
I saw Stefan changing back too as I rushed up to Lillian to enter her. She was lying down with her legs spread as I jumped on top of her, maneuvering my already erect member into her soaking entrance. It was clear that she wanted to douse us in her pheromones as much as we wanted to soak ourselves in them.
I had never done it with a dryad before, but she was humanoid enough. And I could shape shift into a werewolf, so I was not complaining. While thrusting myself into her vigorously, I peeled the leaves on her chest back, revealing two very bring green nipples. Lillian blushed a bright green as I continued to pound her fleshy, firm ass.
My tongue went up, sucking on them, feeling them harden under my tongue, man she tasted so good even though I was never a vegetarian. Her boobs were so soft yet firm, I buried my face in them while groping and squeezing them with both hands. It was heavenly.
Looking up, I saw Lillian's face, it was turning greener and greener. She was losing control of her vines too as I saw them moving uncontrollably about.
"How, is it, that I'm not poisoned this time?" I asked, in between breaths.
"You're taking the antidote from me, and my vines only emit poison when threatened," she replied in equally exhausting pants.
"HEY! I'm joining in too!" Stefan yowled as he rushed over.
With a flick of her wrist, the vines wrapped around us, suspending us up in the air and turning us around such that she was now on top. Stefan came over, the height was just right for Stefan to fuck her in the ass, and fuck her he did.
I heard him let out a feral howl as his erect cock slowly buried itself into Lillian's tiny asshole while I continued fucking her tight, soaking channel. Guess she liked being double penetrated simultaneously too, I thought as I redoubled my efforts at pounding myself into her.
Lillian looked at me, "you're gonna need the sap provided by my vines too."
"What?" I replied in surprise, "don't tell m- AH!"
A vine had predictably rammed itself up my ass, sending a jolt of pain surging me. Strangely, this pain turned me on more than ever. What is wrong with me, I thought, before concluding that I must be a pervert.
I heard a surprised yelp from Stefan, chuckling a bit, he probably did not notice, during all this fucking, that a vine had snaked itself up and into his asshole. Sucker.
Lillian was apparently very good with her vines as they made my ass feel awesome the way they went in and out of me. I simply could not wait for them send their sap shooting in to my ass.
I watched as Lillian began moaning harder and harder from all the stimulation. It was clear she was on the verge of cumming. Licking her nipples and grabbing her tits with one hand, I reached down to her clit with my free hand and gave it a tickle.
"AHH!" Lillian screamed as she experienced intense orgasm. Her body shivered and vibrated involuntarily while we were inside her. Man did it feel great, having her boobies in my face while she shuddered and screamed again and again. I massaged her clit, alternating between a light pinch and a gentle caress.
Apparently when Lillian came, her vines came too as I felt her vines twitch, send steamy hot sap up my ass. It must have been the same for Stefan as he let out another yowl as the vine in his ass released sap inside him.
The vines pulled out of us, still shooting its load on us with every throb. I found the three of us completely covered in sap. It glistened green in the moon light as our three bodies formed a massive writhing ball of pleasure.
Her pussy felt so tight, I knew I was going to cum soon. I thrust even more vigorously now, sending myself to the next level of pleasure. Cocking my head to the side, I peeked at Stefan from the underside of Lillian's boob, snickering as I watched him humping her like a dog in heat. It was a look long time we found a woman as beautiful as her to fuck after all.
"I'm gonna come!" I exclaimed, feeling myself too near the edge. The vines suspending us instantly moved, pulling me out of her pussy and bringing my dick to her face. Lillian promptly took me in her wet mouth.
This was too much for me, I felt my balls tighten and my body shiver. I came, my dick sending warm sticky come down Lillian's throat with each throb. Lillian was really well versed in the carnal arts, and her vines made the possibilities for carnal connection nearly limitless. She was bending over letting Stefan do her doggy style while taking me in her mouth at the same time. If I could, I would take her on our journey as a companion.
I finally could relax as my dick started throbbing less and less, letting my body be supported by the moving vines. I felt my entire body covered in vine sap and looked at Lillian.
"Don't remove the sap, now you're disguised as a plant and should be able to get through the forest."
Stefan moaned louder and louder before they morphed into yowls. I watch him pull out of her ass and pound her soaking pussy instead.
"Unngh." Lillian bit her lip as two vines moved towards her ass. One inserted itself into her asshole while the other diligently massaged her clit. She became so wet that I could even see her juices glisten in the moonlight. Even bead of sweat formed perfectly on her body as she moaned in unison with Stefan.
How entertaining to watch the two of them have at it like no tomorrow, I thought, as I lay in the hammock of vines, tired, but sated.
"Ohh Lillian," Stefan crooned, "Since this afternoon, all I've been thinking about was doing you…"
"Oh yea?" Lillian purred, flicking her wrist.
Two vines shot out from behind me, one entered Stefan's mouth and began making him deep throat it while the other forced itself into Stefan's already occupied ass.
I was shocked, Stefan could fit two vines up his ass, and he liked it. I sighed, I may be a pervert, but my deviant mind is nothing compared to his.
Lillian flicked her wrist again, another vine undid itself from my vine hammock and began spanking Stefan on the ass.
PIAK! PIAK! The vine spanked Stefan over and over again, turning his ass a red so bright I could see it at night. Lillian was indeed giving him the 'full treatment' as she let him rail her.
This was entertaining beyond measure.
Watching Lillian's slightly bored face, our eyes met, and I licked my lips, looking at her. Her face brightened as she waved her fingers about, pulling Stefan out of her pussy, positioning him such that it was his face that was in contact with her ass this time.
Stefan, overwhelmed by it all, found himself dutifully licking and sucking Lillian's asshole and pussy while she grabbed him by the head and thrust her crotch into her face.
"AHH!" Lillian screamed as she experienced another intense orgasm, her body shivered while on his face, almost drowning him in her fluids. I blushed red with embarrassment, feeling all too envious with a tinge of regret that I came so soon.
This was too much for Stefan, he grabbed Lillian's ass and forced it towards his waist, his erect, throbbing cock entered her ass again and began fucking her in earnest.
His breathing got heavier and heavier as he continued he perverted task. Lillian smiled, talking dirty to him to egg him on.
"Ohh!" Lillian and I both heard Stefan howl as he began burying himself as deeply into her ass with every thrust, sending his hot, slippery seed up her ass with every throb of his dick.
When it was all over, he collapsed on Lillian's back panting like a tired wolf. Tired, but sated too.
Lillian smiled, we were both covered in her sap. "You should be able to pass the forest now," she said, disappearing into the night, leaving me and Stefan lying on the forest floor, exhausted.
"Man, she sure doesn't stick around post-sex huh?" I remarked.
"Hmmph." Stefan grunted in agreement. I stifled a chuckle, he was too tired to respond.
We laid there for a while, catching our breath, watching the stars and admiring the full moon and the strength it bestowed upon us.
Before long, we both got up, regaining our stamina quickly thanks to the powers of the full moon.
"You ready?" Stefan growled, his body already half transforming.
"Yea," I replied, as I relaxed my mind, magnifying my feral urges in my sub consciousness.
Covered in her sap, we were well disguised as plants and with newfound confidence, we headed deeper into the forest with renewed spirits.
END :)

If you liked this story, please read the next installment in Pack Pals in Fucking the Tribal (MM/m)!
The werewolf stepbrothers have traversed the forest, and now need to cross a dangerous canyon to reach the town on the horizon. Their journey becomes even more perilous when their supplies are stolen. Cornering the tribal shaman thief, he eyes them lustfully, and makes them a deal they cannot resist.

Excerpt:

That was when I felt the feral desire burning from within him. I only felt that from him when he wanted something, and he wanted it bad. He looked at the shaman with those hungry eyes of his and the shaman similarly looked back.
Oh shit, don't tell me…
My mind raced frantically as I struggled to understand this bizarre situation. I always knew Stefan was hyper active when it came to sex, and we already had a three-way with that dryad Lillian the night before. But now, he wanted this guy? This strange shaman that we just met?
I watched as they approached each other, the mutual fire of burning passion lighting up their hearts.
Why all the attraction? I shook my head helplessly as I approached the shaman as well to claim by my things.
"Your beast power is so… strong," the shaman remarked as he embraced Stefan.
Stefan whined in appreciation. He did not say anything, he just whined as the shaman reached down to stroke his long, hairy wolf cock.
"Just how much spirit power do you have…" the shaman continued, flattering Stefan with his tactful compliments.
"More than enough for you," Stefan breathed back, his cock already erect and shivering under the shaman's touch.
The native shaman knelt down, bringing himself closer to Stefan's sacred spirit tool as he intended to absorb the werewolf's spiritual energies.
"Hey shaman!" I barked.
He turned to look at my proud werewolf body.
"If we give you our spirit power, can you guide us to that town over that," I asked, my clawed finger pointing to the amalgamation of strange towers in the horizon.
The shaman looked at me with marginal disinterest. His eyes travelled from my body down my arm to my finger before looking at where I was pointing. He shrugged his shoulders.
"Sure," he barked in reply.
That did it for me, I supposed I would wait until they were done with whatever spiritual deeds they intended to accomplish before setting off on a safer journey thanks to the native who would hopefully be an experienced guide.

Other titles by Annabel Bastione include:

Pack Pals in Gay Vampire Threesome: MM/m Paranormal Erotica
The Pack Pals finally arrive in town, only to have a vampire trailing them! Sensing the unfriendly presence, Stefan rushes to confront him, only to find out that his father's held captive in the ice palace across the tundra! A map is needed to get there, and luckily, the vampire has one. The only problem? It's hidden deep inside his ass! How far will the Pack Pals go to get it out? 

Pack Pals in Sucking the Yeti's Popsicle: Werewolf/Yeti Threeway Erotica
The pack pals now cross the frozen tundra... only to get caught in a blistering snow storm! Cold and helpless despite being werewolves, things seem very bleak, until they are saved by a white furry yeti. Filled with gratitude to their paranormal savior, the pack pals thank him with the only way they know how: a threesome, of course!

Pack Pals in Gay Werewolf Bundle: An Erotic Anthology of the Pack Pals Series!
This anthology comprises the first four stories of the Pack Pals series! Join the protagonist and his werewolf pal Stefan as they double team dryads, shamans, vampires and even a yeti while in search of Stefan's werewolf father. Over 16000 words of hot paranormal action at a discounted price! 

Pack Pals in Frankenstein Monster Menage: MMM Paranormal Monster Erotica
After a treacherous journey across the tundra, the pack pals arrive at the fortress that supposedly holds Louis captive. Employing stealth, they wait til nightfall before infiltrating the castle walls. But never in their wildest nightmares did they expect a hulking Frankenstein on patrol! Will they be pounded by the undead beast or will the pack pals be the ones doing the 'pounding'?

About the Author:

Annabel Bastione has been immensely naughty ever since she could remember, often having very elaborate fantasies/experiences which fortunately for you readers, has largely been put to writing. If she's not busy tapping her fingers on her keyboard, she's probably clicking her mouse…
Her work can be found on Amazon, Smashwords, Rainbowebooks and AllRomanceEBooks.

Annabel can be reached at AnnabelBastione@gmail.com
AnnabelBastione.blogspot.com
http://twitter.com/annabelbastione

More sizzling stories coming soon!

* * * * *
Fangs of Desire
By
Brandy Corvin

Copyright © 2012 by Brandy Corvin

* * * * *

He smiles at me from across the countertop. The shitty live music drowning out everything else in this dingy pub on the corner of 14th Avenue really gets me in the mood for some ironic partying. I smile back, knowing better than to approach him when I can't even hear myself think. The crowd behind us goes wild as the band finally stops their noise, replacing one unwelcome earfuck with another.
Serves me right for coming to a new bar on a whim, I sigh as I straighten my figure hugging dress. Looking around, I find everyone I see decked out in band shirts and skinny Levis jeans. They all seem very underdressed to be at a bar, but if everyone's like that, maybe I'm the one who's overdressed to the party. I sigh again, feeling like the odd one out here. Raising the fruity girl drink to my lips, I down the rest of it, savoring its refreshing, complex taste that hinted of many citrus undertones. Boy, that's a hell of a drink on a night like this!
I look up, realizing that up till now, he hasn't taken his eyes off me. Who is he exactly? I don't know, but as I look back at his beautifully proportioned body and his broad shoulders that fill the blazer draped over him, I can't help but feel a spark of attraction.
"Miss?"
I turn back just in time to see the bartender hand me another colorful drink. Luckily the rowdy noise of the crowd behind me dies down so I can hear again, for now.
"Your drink, as ordered by the gentleman over there." he pointed. I didn't need to look to know who it was."
"What's this called?" I ask.
"A Bloody Mary, ma'am." the bartender replies curtly before returning to wipe the glasses, occasionally glancing up at the crowd with a slight hint of irritation in his eyes.
Ah, well so much for going home alone. I take a sip from the cup, relishing in its delicious taste. A mishmash of vodka with traces of tomato juice certainly helps to take the edge of things. From the corner of my eye, I see that the seat his was in is now empty. A shadow looms across the bar counter below the dim garish spotlights. It's slowly nearing me. I prepare to smile, knowing what's going to happen next.
I wait for him to strike up a conversation, but -
"1 2 3 4!" the horrendous band starts belting out another tone deaf number again.
Argh! Not only do they have to annoy me but to ruin any chances of me getting laid tonight too? I down the shot, intending to get out of this joint as soon as I can.
"Come…" the man leans in to whisper, sending a wave of harrying tingles shooting straight down my spine. I take a deep breath, he smells deeply of aftershave mixed with after office sweat. Like a man with a professional career, I think. He seems like my kind of guy.
I watch him saunter slowly out of the bar in long wide strides, as if he has all the time in the world.
For too long I have suffered under the ill conceived advances of many an unconfident, awkward, bumbling fool. But now, I have a feeling the winds of change are knocking on my door, taking me away from this boring love life of mine.
Wonderful, just wonderful, Jessica. I tell myself as I down the rest of the tantalizing cocktail mix. The answer to my womanly desires is leaving, I better follow.
Eager to leave a life of less than spectacular one-night stands behind, I get up and quickly exit the bar in search of my boy toy that also (hopefully) comes with the bonus of mind blowing sex.
I find him outside with a cigarette in his hand. He brings it to his mouth and takes a long drag; the white end gets shorter as the burning embers advance further down the stick. Puffing smoky but intricate patterns into the frigid night air, I watch the ends of his pale lips curl into a wide grin.
His compelling blue eyes, the firm features and that chiseled jaw line pretty much does it for me. What's a man as eligible as the one standing before me doing in bar like that? Anyone would have reasonably assumed that he already has a bevy of girls to fulfill his every need. Still, I'm not going to reject good luck just because I don't feel like I deserve it.
"You listened."
What? Oh, when he told me to follow him, right.
"Yea, I guess I did." my voice trails off, wondering whether I should introduce myself or something.
"My name's Rick, Rick Damien." holds out his hand.
Well, he's earned more than enough points on his looks alone, but he continues to pleasantly surprise me with his gentlemanly manners.
"I'm Jessica, Jessica Parker." I reply, hoping that my lipstick didn't smudge so late into the night.
He takes my hand and promptly leans forward, planting a gentle kiss onto the back of it. I shudder as jolts of pure ecstasy reverberate through my body.
"Are you alright? You're shivering." he asks with concern literally bleeding from his voice.
"No, no. Um, I'm just kind of cold." I mumble, hoping he bought my excuse. I don't know why but his hand just feels so cold. Come to think of it, it kind of fits his similarly pale appearance. I mean, I've seen many blonde hair blue eyed guys in my life, but none of them are as fair as him.
He looks at me for a brief moment before his eyes relent.
"Alright then," he replies. Before I know it he's taken off his blazer and draped it over my shoulders. I catch myself from swooning on the spot just in time. Come on Jessica! I tell myself, don't be such a klutz now.
His jacket feels as cold as his hand, but I don't care, soon enough it warms me up. There is something… off about him though, I think. I mean he's simply too perfect and really pale. But I guess I've had a drink too many and am not thinking straight.
"You okay? I mean, you look really pale, I can bring you to the doctor or -"
"Nope, I'm fine." he interrupts worriedly.
"Ohh… kay, I guess." Well, despite how pale and cold he feels, he actually seems pretty energetic so I guess it should be alright.
"Your place or mine?" I smile, trying to break the increasingly awkward silence between us. I mean, that's what we're both looking for, right?
That seductive smile of his returns to me again. Even if it only disappeared for a minute or two, I think I miss it already.
"I'll drive," he dodges the question tersely and puts his arm around me. Since I can't even walk straight now with that alcohol fueled buzz messing with my head, I gratefully lean into his dark figure of a man so tall and so sweet smelling.
* * * * *
His apartment is huge, or maybe my depth perception just isn't working right anymore. Its lush modern interior simply beckons me to lose myself in it. I have to say that I'll be impressed even when I wake up sober tomorrow.
I lie in his strong arms as he carries me to the bedroom. I may be slightly tipsy, but I most certainly am not drunk. And even if I were sober, I'd still do him in a heartbeat.
He gently lays me down on his luxuriant king-sized bed. The mattress supports me comfortably as I bury my head in his soft fluffy pillows.
Watching him come out of the bathroom with a wet towel, I bite my lip as I suppress the slight annoyance building up inside of me. What's going on? Why aren't you in bed with me already! Am I not attractive enough or something?
"I'm willing to go all the way…" I whisper as I pull his head in near to my mouth, caressing the later half of my earlier sentence with my tongue.
"Jessica." he replies, holding my hands while sitting on the edge of the bed.
Hm? I want to have my fun already! If he's going to talk me to sleep I'm definitely taking a few points off his eligible score!
"Listen to me Jessica." he shakes my hands to alertness.
"What!" I'm kind of annoyed now.
"Before we do anything, there's something I have to tell you."
"You have a small dick?" I venture, blushing when I realize what I just blurted out.
"No, I mean it's totally alright if you… y'know… this isn't helping is it?" I continue, feeling my cheeks burning up by the second.
He chortles in laughter at my floundering ways, making me even more embarrassed.
"Ha, it's not that I feel physically insecure or anything. Just listen." his tone suddenly turns serious, a far cry from his jovial, sexy demeanor earlier.
I tingle in anticipation as he leans in to whisper to me, relishing in feeling his breath on my ear.
"I'm actually a vampire." he says at last in all seriousness.
I guess I'm pretty drunk after all. Did he just say he was a vampire? As in, those blood sucking things that live forever?
"Yeah, right. And I'm a fairy!" I snort, flailing my arms about pretending their wings. Alright, I admit that I'm drunk and hearing things… because I’m drunk.
"Jessica, I'm serious. I'm a real vampire." he looks at me, his eyes pleading for me to believe him.
Maybe he has his own baggage. No big deal, I've been trying to undress his sexy, toned body with my eyes the whole night. If that's what it takes to get him to start fulfilling my desires then so be it.
"Alright, you're a vampire," I repeat after him so that he'll finally shut up, "Can you kiss me now?"
A small sigh escapes him as he strokes my auburn curls.
That's it. I've come too far to have my night ruined. Reaching out, I take him by surprise when I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss.
Our lips touch and all of a sudden I'm not so tipsy anymore. I'm alert and on fire. He devours me hungrily, sucking gently on my lower lip as I reciprocate on his upper one. My arms wrap around him and pull him closer for a deeper kiss.
He resists at first, holding back for one reason or another. I don't know why he's so apprehensive. It's just sex right? No strings attached… for now? My mind's still too buzzed for me to think straight.
I cup his shoulders with my palm, running my hand down his back. He feels so solid, but so deathly cold at the same time. But looking at him start to get into it, I suppose it's a non issue. He takes the lead now which I gratefully give up, letting him ravage me as he likes.
Our tongues dance in each other's mouths, wrestling and frolicking with much enthusiasm. He tastes of cigarettes mixed with traces of whiskey, but I think that's divine enough. I relax as he clutches me tightly; maybe I'm warming him up?
Breaking off the kiss to smile to myself, I feel his hand casually slide behind and undo the vital buttons that held my figure hugging dress together. As if bearing a mind of their own, my shoulders relax, letting him slip the dress off me to reveal my lacy bra.
His eyes widen slightly as I lie so close to him. I can only hope I'm sexy enough.
"Jessica," he leans in to whisper, "you're beautiful."
I don't even know why he's affecting me so much, but I feel like releasing the bubble of elation welling up from within. Whew, it must be all the drinks I've had, yeah, that's it.
Reaching out, I slowly tug at his tie. It comes off easily like I'm a girl scout unraveling a camping knot. My fingers proceed to play with his shirt buttons, slowly getting rid of them one by one. Each time a button gives up its noble function of keeping his clothes together, I'm rewarded with his increasingly exposed manly chest. Soon enough his shirt's unbuttoned entirely. He pulls it off of himself while I rest a hand on his broad chest and devour his hot abs with my hungry eyes, relishing in how hot it is.
Hm, funny, I don't feel the warmth of his beating heart. Maybe my hand's in the wrong place, maybe he really is a vampire. Well, he looks like he's never been more alive so I guess it's all good.
He embraces me again, peppering my neck and collarbone with an unstoppable barrage of light kisses. Each one sets me off; it's evidence that he's marked me and for tonight at least, we belong to each other.
I moan appreciatively, wondering how much longer I can tolerate not having him inside me. His hand reaches round and easily snaps the clasp of my bra apart while I squeeze my legs together in a futile attempt to stem the wetness emanating from down there. Rick slowly takes my silky lace off my shoulders, tracing his slender fingers on my tingling skin as he did so. I come apart in front of him, exposing my oversized melons. Our eyes meet and he flashes a smile wider than anything I've ever seen.
"Unnnh!" a small moan escapes me as he dives into my bosom and latches onto my right nipple. I can feel his tongue licking my areola in wide, circular motions while his free hand gropes and delights in the softness of my left tit.
My legs which were so tightly bound together begin to relax, wrapping themselves around Rick's hot ass as I grab his head and pull him deeper into my bosom.
He switches to my other nipple and feels it harden under his tongue too. I can't stop the growing wetness from pooling down there any longer.
"Fuck me," I whisper, trying my best not to let the embarrassment of saying something so crude leak from my voice.
He throws his head back from my delicious bosom and loses himself in my eyes.
"Alright."
Rick tries to unbuckle his pants as fast as he can. I help him and within a few seconds I enjoy a visual treat for my ego watching his already erect cock throb for me.
He reaches out, gently tugging down my lacy panties. If he notices the dark wet spot on them he certainly doesn't acknowledge it.
"You ready?" he asks, sending jolts of shivering anticipation spreading throughout my wanting body.
"As ready as I'll ever be." I moan; relaxing as much as I can.
His head comes close, rubbing my slick folds and enjoying my wetness. I subconsciously open my mouth, fervently anticipating the incoming rush when he finally enters me. C'mon already, I think, slightly annoyed at how much he's teasing me.
Rick watches my eyes and smiles at my impatience. Would a gentleman keep a girl waiting like this? I think not!
"Could you just -"
"Alright, alright." he interrupts, struggling to stifle a smirk. What a tease.
He enters me proper now, slowly at first, letting me get used to his girth. I already thought it was big but now that he's starting his advance I need to do a double take. Nope, he certainly still feels bigger than I expected. I have to learn to stop underestimating people.
I watch as he comes closer to me the deeper he goes. His blank face amuses me as I watch it fill up to the brim with pleasure. I can't afford to think straight either, he's fulfilling the wishes of my aching pussy and he simply does not disappoint.
Wrapping my legs around his ass again, I bring them towards me in one swift motion, letting him penetrate me deeply all of a sudden.
"Ahh…" our collective moans of delight only serve to multiply our fleeting happiness. His chiseled jaw line rests on my shoulder now that he can't go any further. I don't know why but he still feels so cold. From past experiences normally hot blooded males would feel super warm as they fucked me, but there's something different about him. The way he breathes upon my skin, the way his eyes instinctively widen when watching the veins on my neck. It's strange, but it feels so good all the same.
I throw any lingering doubts back into the recesses of my mind in a euphoric buzz as he pulls out slowly leaving only his head still inside of me.
Suddenly he thrusts in me again, but faster this time, creating sparks of heavenly friction that sends my body temperature even higher. Rick pulls himself back, pumping into me at a steady rhythmic pace while kneeling in position. I watch his furrowed brow as he concentrates on bringing me and himself even closer to the sweet release we've been aching for from the start.
The sweat of hard work drips down from his chin and lands onto my abdomen; it tickles, but turns me on immensely. I don't know how much wetter I can get, but it helps when he increases his pace and sends wave after wave of gratifying carnal pleasure washing over my sweaty body.
I tense and relax at the most irregular of intervals, losing all control of my muscles. The random muses and reasoning of logic simply disappears from my consciousness. All that's left is the raw emotion of pleasure, and a pure physical connection with Rick.
He suddenly leans back, lifting me on top of him with his muscular arms. All of a sudden I find myself riding him. I'm in control, and I love it. He prompts me by thrusting and shifting slightly, and I respond by giving him the ride of my life. My hands pound his chest in irrational ecstasy as I lift myself up lighting with my toned thighs before relaxing and letting him penetrate me deep again.
Rick smiles as he watches me use him for my own lustful desires. He reaches down and suddenly gives my clit and heavy stroke. The climax that pooled inside me is suddenly unlocked, sending me rattling over the edge.
"AHHHH!" I scream in sweet release, soaking his shaft in my juices. He watches in delight as my mind blanks entirely. I ride him with all that I'm made off, letting my body rise up and shatter over and over again.
His breaths grow incredibly heavy and I feel him throbbing violently inside me. My eyes widen at the feeling as he releases his seed as deeply in me as he can. I cum again, biting my lips as my pussy pulses in sync with the uncontrollable shudders of his dick.
"Fuck!" I cry at last, releasing all of my inner inhibitions.
He suddenly sits up and sinks his teeth into my neck. In the moment I have no chance to push him away, be surprised or even react. What the fuck did he just do?
I can't think straight. A slight stinging pain's suddenly replaced by vibes of satisfaction emanating from where he bit me. Okay, now he's taking the vampire thing a wee bit too far. But I'm too numb in the midst of a mind blowing climax to resist.
Eventually his throbs die down, as do mine. I lie back on top of him, feeling him slowly suck my blood out of me.
Is he serious? I lie there panting and exhausted, in the arms of a man who had just bitten my neck. Should I believe that he's actually a vampire? Is he just doing this for the attention? Am I even thinking straight? I furrow my brow at all these sudden questions popping into my head before dismissing them with promises of finding out tomorrow.
It doesn't hurt actually, did he really bite me? He finally withdraws with a mouthful of blood. Our eyes meet and he grins energetically.
What the fuck? He really bit me! My eyes widen watching his canines literally shrink from fangs back into a normal healthy set of pearly whites, except that they weren't pearly whites because they were stained with my blood.
Holy fuck! I'm jolted back into a super weird turn of reality.
"Oh fuck!" I cry, watching him lie back with a look of sheer satisfaction.
No, this is just a bad dream, it's all just a bad dream. I'm hyperventilating, and there's nothing anyone can do to stop me now.
"That's why I told you, I'm a vampire. I don't know what to say if you still don't believe me now." he smirks.
Shit, shit, shit. I raise my hand to my neck, noticing how unusually wet my neck is. Fresh blood stains my fingers and I go into shock just looking at it. Actually, I feel like I'm about to go into shock, but somehow I'm as calm as I'll ever be. Did he inject some sedative into me? I don't know.
I roll over, burying my head into the pillow it's all a bad dream, isn't it? I'm confused as hell, scared even now that the gravity of the situation finally dawned upon me.
My thoughts fly by in a flurry, all screaming for my immediate attention. I don't know even know which one to address first. It's all too much.
* * * * *
The warm glow of the morning sun bathes me and floods my eyes as I open them.
Damn, my head's buzzing from a serious hangover. I get up.
Shit Jessica, I think to myself, what the hell did you to now?
I hold my head in my arms, trying to will this paralyzing hangover away.
Oh right, ha, I smirked at the thought. I actually slept with a vampire. Who am I to believe that crap!
He even bit me here -
My hand traces the part of my neck where he supposedly bit me last night. Suddenly all of last night's experiences come flooding back to me. This is no dream, I force myself to focus as I trace the two small bite wounds that sullied my fair skin.
Shit, it's real after all.
"RICKKKKKK!" I scream in panic.
I look around and find that I'm still inside his apartment. Okay, he can't run away at least.
Getting up, I throw the blanket off me, trading it for my clothes that are strewn all over the floor from last night's bout of passion.
When I find him, he's going to have a lot of explaining to do.
END :)

Are you thirsty for more steamy vampire action? Then read the sequel, Fangs of Lust (Vampire Erotica)!
At long last, Jessica finds Rick again in a pub picking up women of all things, typical. She's furious that he bit her neck the last time but more curious about what an eternity as a vampire entails. With nowhere to escape, Rick brings her back to his real apartment this time, preparing to reveal his vampire secret and more…

Excerpt:

His apartment is a lot less fancy that I expect. Granted the first time we did it in a stranger's house, he got my expectations way up.
"This is it?" I ask, standing in the doorway.
"Why? Not good enough for you?"
"No, I mean, I half expected you to live in an ancient castle or something with a coffin in your bedroom."
He resists breaking into another round of annoying laughter as I glare at him, daring him to do it again.
"Ha, it's not like that Jessica. Even we vampires do keep up with the times otherwise we'll stand out."
"You mean there's more of you?" Like I should be surprised about that, if vampires like Rick exist with the ability to turn other people into one, then the possibility of other vampires shouldn't sound that absurd.
"Yep," he nods, "there's a whole coven of us, as far as I know. I don't like living with them though. I prefer meeting people who are more… alive."
I step in, ignoring the unimpressive interior. I don't feel attracted to him for his wealth or anything superficial like that. I guess it's more out of a morbid mix of curiosity and passion for he's a really great lover after all.
He holds out his arms and I let him carry me into his bedroom. There really isn't a coffin in here. I guess even vampires can't resist the wave of modernization. It feels like the magical first time all over again, that out of all the girls in the bar, I was the one that blew him away.
Gently, I relax as he rests me onto the bed. I grab and bury my face as deeply as I can into his pillow. It smells like him. Yup, this really is his place. I'm glad that he isn't lying this time.
His hand reaches in and separates the pillow from my face in an unhurried manner. A small gasp subconsciously escapes my mouth as he brings his face close to mine, until our foreheads touch, sending a fresh jolt of excitement rippling through me.
Am I in love with him? I don't know. But do I want his body to ravish me again? Most definitely.

Other titles by Brandy Corvin include:

Fangs of Sweet Undeath (Vampire Erotica)
Thrown off the roof of Rick's thirty storey high apartment, Jessica finds herself dead… but also a vampire at last! Now that she's finally in sweet undeath, she celebrates by sinking her fangs into Rick's pale neck first before letting him ravish her for the rest of eternity…

Fangs of a Vampire Series Anthology: 3 Sizzling Erotic Paranormal Stories!
This bundle contains 3 sizzling erotic paranormal stories in the Fangs of a Vampire series. When Jessica Parker hits up the bar for just another one night stand, she gets way more than she bargains for going home with Rick Damien; he's charming, suave, brooding and also... a vampire? Over 12500 words of sizzling hot action at a bundle discount!

Exorgasm: MMM Paranormal Demon Possession Erotica
Father Jacobs just graduated from Bible College as a professional Exorcist and simply can't wait for his first assignment. But when he finally steps into the room of the possessed Joe, he's awestruck by how devilishly handsome Joe is. Worse still, the demon only promises to leave if Father Jacobs does it with Joe! Will Father Jacobs exorcise the demon or will he succumb and do as the devil says?

The Werewolf Experience: M/f/MMMMM Paranormal Erotica
When an elusive, never-before-recorded species of wolf appears before Brandy's very eyes, she gives up everything to chase after it. Finding herself in the wolf's den, she finds herself surrounded by the pack and privy to a mind blowing secret. They're actually werewolves! Now that she knows, the pack can't let her escape, unless of course, she satisfies their lustful desires...

About Brandy Corvin:

A student majoring in feminist studies by day, smut writer by night, Brandy Corvin ensures you'll never be bored with the paranormal/fantasy erotic stories she narrates from her world.
Her work can be found on Amazon, Smashwords, Rainbowebooks, AllRomanceEBooks.

Brandy can be reached at brandycorvin@gmail.com
http://twitter.com/brandycorvin

More sizzling stories coming soon!

* * * * *
The Shadow of the Wolf Part 1
By
Adriana Rossi

Copyright © 2012 by Adriana Rossi

* * * * *

A warm breeze brushed his naked shoulder as the leaves stirred in the wind. Buried in his recluse spot, he relished the sharp smell of pine and the cloying scent of the jasmine bush that grew like a weed along his property. He leaned back into the wooden rocking chair and closed his eyes, listening to the birds. 
This is a perfect place to write my new book, he thought. Rob used to be a construction worker. He had always wanted to earn his living through writing, and after many years of hard work and saving up he had finally bought this little cabin in the middle of nowhere and quit his job. The cabin nestled in the woods was an ideal spot. He had always craved isolation, and there was no one near for miles. Except for the lack of gay guys, this place is almost perfect.
The bottle of beer tipped precariously in his hand as his head nodded. He roused himself enough to close the untouched journal and set the bottle on the banister. 
It was a balmy summer evening, the faint orange glow of the sun warmed his skin and the prospect of taking a nap was very enticing. He stretched out on the swinging bench and closed his eyes.
Robert shuddered awake and drew back his feet. The evening fog had rolled in and he found himself chilled to the bone. The sunlight had faded from the cracks in the trees, and the sallow color of moonlight washed over the forest, bathing him in white. He pulled a nearby blanket over himself and shivered. There was nothing but the symphony of crickets playing in the bushes, owls momentarily hooting. Suddenly, an eerie voice cut through the noise as if there were hidden speakers in the forest. It was so loud that Rob bolted upright, his heart hammering. Every creature in the forest silenced as this phenomenon continued its mournful howl. 
Then, just as suddenly as it appeared, the voice dropped and not a creature stirred in the darkness. He was torn between curiosity and fear. This new development could provide him with fodder for his writing, but whatever had made the noise sounded dangerous. Against his better judgment, he decided to investigate the sound. He turned on the porch lights and slowly ventured out of the porch. His boots had just creaked on the first steps when he heard a low growl near his feet. 
Robert jumped a foot in the air and leaned precariously over the railing. There, he saw a sight that made his blood chill. A giant beast was curled up under his porch, its large menacing head turned towards the porch steps. Its hackles were raised and Rob could almost feel the growl rumbling through its giant throat. Why is it sitting there? he thought.
Surely, it could just leave if it felt threatened. The countless warnings he received from the rangers not to provoke the wild animals in the forest ran through his head.
He jumped down and faced the beast. It was a common grey wolf, but Rob had never seen one up close. He couldn't get over how large the head was and the beautiful pattern of its coat. It snarled viciously and attempted to stand on its four legs. 
The powerful jaws snapped at him, saliva dripping down the inch-long fangs. But the animal whimpered and collapsed. It was then that he noticed the wolf's paw. It was a mass of blood and fur; it looked like the wolf had been caught in some sort of animal trap. 
"Poor fella," Rob said in a sympathetic voice. He had always held a fondness for dogs, though he had never been allowed to have one. He felt childish glee rise inside him as he pictured himself nursing the wolf back to health, teaching it tricks and earning the loyalty of a fearsome beast. Ignoring its growls, Rob dashed inside his cabin and fetched a bowl and filled it with water. He rummaged through his fridge for something that a wolf would like. A nice big bloody steak, he thought. But he didn't have any. The only meat he had was a block of bacon. He slammed it on the kitchen counter and he began carving thin strips—before realizing that wolves probably didn't eat bacon and didn't care about how thin it was. He cut the thing into quarters and ambled outside with four hunks of meat and a bowl of water, half of its contents spilling out in his excitement.
The wolf was still in the same spot, but it had retreated further into the darkness. Rob could see its eyes glowing in the darkness.
“Hey, buddy,” he began in what he hoped was a friendly voice.
Its eyes narrowed at the sound of his voice.
Rob gently dropped a hunk of meat on the floor. The wolf startled from the noise but sniffed hopefully at the meat, alternating between outright distrust and hunger.
“That’s it, boy. Go on.” Rob stretched out a trembling hand. “Nice dog.”
The wolf gnawed on the meat, paying him no notice. His fingers had hardly brushed the animal’s fur before it whirled its great head at him and snapped its jaws. Rob withdrew his fingers just in time. The wolf’s growling filled his ears as he stared into its blue irises. They were beautiful eyes. He stared at the wolf’s thick pelt, longing to run his hands through the fur and wondering what it would feel like.
Still growling, the wolf turned its attention to the bowl of water and began lapping its tongue eagerly. Soon the bowl was empty. 
“I’ll fill that for you!” he said cheerfully. Rob stretched his hand and grabbed the bowl. 
It happened in an instant. There was a vicious snarl and a flash of fangs. Pain seared through his hand as the beast gnawed on his bones. The wolf’s nose was crumpled, its lips curled in a snarl. Rob drew back his fist and punched the wolf in the nose. It whimpered and released him.
Rob staggered to the porch, cradling his aching hand. Several deep puncture wounds were filling with blood. “Fuck!” he swore as he ran inside. He ran water over his hands and scrubbed at the wounds. It hurt like a bitch, but he gritted his teeth. He knew how bite wounds could get infected. He wrapped his hand in gauze and mentally cursed himself. What if the animal had rabies?
He eased himself into bed, shivering. The night passed with fitful, restless sleep. When first light grazed his eyelids, he shot upright and dressed. His hand was throbbing, and the pain had traveled to his elbow. He splashed some cool water on his face and left the cabin. The clinic was only a few miles away. First, he made sure the wolf had disappeared, and indeed it had. There was no sign of the beast.
* * *
“Yeah, this is a bad bite, alright,” the doctor commented as she turned his hand over. “How did this happen?”
Rob’s face suddenly flushed. He couldn’t exactly tell the truth, could he? “I’m not really sure what I did. I was just walking through the woods and it attacked me.”
The doctor’s skeptical gaze peered at him. “You wouldn’t have happened to be feeding them, would you?”
“Me?” he asked in an innocent voice. “No, ma’am I would never do that.”
“They’re wild animals,” she said in a stern voice. “If you get them habituated to humans, more of these attacks will occur.”
“Mmm.”
She released his hand and rummaged through the cupboards. “Right. Well, I’m going to rub some ointments on these wounds and prescribe you some strong antibiotics. Be sure to take all of them, and not stop when you start to feel better or it will get worse.”
Rob moaned in pain as the doctor gently smeared the ointment over his wounds. She pursed her lips at the wound, apparently confused. Shaking her head, she dressed his wound and gave him a slip of paper. “Come back in a week.”
* * *
He pushed away the unfinished plate of food and sat back on the couch, shivering. He had inexplicably acquired a craving for a bloody steak. He usually liked his steaks cooked medium; the sight of blood made him feel ill. For some reason, his mind had changed overnight. He had awoken craving the savory, iron taste of blood rolling over his tongue. 
So far, the ointment and drugs had done nothing for his arm. It ached more than ever, and was getting worse.
A hard knock at the door startled him. Rob clutched his sheets and stumbled towards the door, which was still banging resolutely.
“Jesus, I’m coming.” He yanked open the door with his good arm.
Robert’s ire evaporated as his eyes fell on the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. The stranger was well-built, with wide shoulders and rippling biceps peeking out from his tight, white t-shirt. The shadow of a beard stroked his strong jaw and dark hair fell haphazardly into his warm, brown eyes. Those eyes were knitted into an expression of concern.
“Hi, my name is Dave.” A thick, deep voice rumbled out his throat as he outstretched a hand.
Robert instead offered his left hand and they shook awkwardly. “What brings you here?” Oh God, he’s so hot. 
He jerked his thumb behind him. “I heard there was an incident with a wolf here.”
“Yes,” the man’s sudden presence struck him as odd, though he wasn’t complaining. “How did you know that?”
Dave gave him a smile. Rob felt warmth flush his chest. He was so handsome. 
“It’s a small town. Everybody already knows.” He gestured towards Rob’s injury. “Is that where he bit you?”
“Yeah.” He sniffed, shrugging it off. He didn’t want to look weak. “It’s not too bad.”
 Dave raised an eyebrow and gave him a knowing smile. “Do you mind?”
“Sure.” Rob dropped the sheets and carefully unwound the bandage, gritting his teeth against the pain. It was worse than he thought. He heard Dave’s sharp intake of breath and looked at his arm.
His eyes fell upon what he thought was his arm—it had a sickly greenish hue, and the bite marks had become extremely inflamed. They were turning a horribly black color, which reminded Rob of gangrene. Overcome, sickened by the smell, he fell to his knees.
“Whoa, there,” Dave said suddenly. “Let me help you.”
Rob was hardly able to appreciate Dave’s closeness as his strong arms encircled his waist and hoisted him up. Even in his sickened state, he admired Dave’s strength. 
He gently deposited him in the couch and then Rob heard him searching the bathroom for something.
“That fucking bitch,” Dave swore as he returned with a rag and a bucket of water. “We have to get this stuff off you.”
“Stuff? What?”
“Doctor Umbrage. She put wolfsbane ointment all over your wounds. It’s making you sick.”
“Wolfsbane?” Rob ejaculated, starting to think that all sense had left the conversation. “What are you talking about?” The end of the sentence was punctuated by a scream as Dave began wiping his hand. 
“She hates wolves. It’ll be better once we get this off,” he said gently. “I’m so sorry you had to go through this. This should never have happened.” An angry look came over Dave’s face.
“She hates wolves? What’s that got to do with anything?”
Dave gave him a pitying look. “Look, you’re transitioning.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re a werewolf. You can deny it in your head all you want, but the fact is tonight’s a full moon. And you’re going to change.”
As hot as Dave was, he was clearly insane. Rob felt his heart sinking as if a balloon of happiness had suddenly burst inside him. “You’re crazy.”
He shook his head. “Look at your arm! See, it’s already healing.”
Rob looked and yelped as he watched his flesh slowly knitting together. The pain was receding, the flesh was returning to its normal pink hue. “This is impossible,” he said as he turned his arm around. He had never believed in fairy tales. Sure, he had an imagination (he was a writer after all) but he had never considered that any of it would be true.
“We think the wolf that bit you was Peter. He has been warned many times not to change near human settlements. We think he was too close to the edge of the forest and was lured by an animal trap. Feeding him was a bad idea.”
Robert was still shaking his head, gazing at his now completely healed hand. It didn’t seem so ludicrous to entertain Dave’s silly tale. “Why did he bite me?”
The man sighed and leaned into the couch. “When you transform, you’re not really conscious. It’s kind of like a dream. You can see everything, but you don’t really have control.” He checked his watch. “It’s getting late. We should really get going.”
“Go where?”
“To the forest.”
Rob shot upright, running his hands through his hair. “Whatever, this is probably a dream. I might as well go along with it.”
* * *
A half an hour later, Robert’s feet were crunching dead leaves, both of them were in the deepest recesses of the woods. Dave was setting up a tent by the stream. If not for the bizarre events of the day, Rob would be excited to be alone with a beautiful man in the wilderness. He winced as something sharp pierced through his finger. He pulled out the splinter, watching as a tiny drop of blood receded back into his skin. His heart hammered. He searched the ground for a sharp rock and found one. Breathing in sharp gasps, he tore the rock across his arm, opening up a gash. He winced in pain and was satisfied as he watched blood seeping out of it. Maybe he had imagined the whole thing. He wiped away the blood and splashed some water on his arm—and did a double take. There was no wound. 
“What the fuck am I?” he screamed. 
“You’re a werewolf.” Dave appeared by his shoulder and gently tugged at his elbow. “Come on, let’s talk.”
Shaking, Rob followed him inside the tent. The sun was close to the horizon, a deep orange filled the sky. 
Dave began to remove his boots and socks, and Rob stared as he removed his belt and pants. Dave’s shirt flew off his head. His tight, black underwear stretched across his round, perfectly shaped ass. A small amount of dark hair peppered his beautifully carved chest. Rob blushed as Dave slid out of the underwear and his cock slid out. Dave threw the underwear at Rob’s head.
“Stop staring and strip.”
Blushing furiously, Rob complied with his orders. He set his clothes in a neat pile and crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly self conscious. 
“What am I?” he asked Dave in a desperate voice.
He sighed. “Werewolf, lycanthrope, beast walker. There are many names for what we are, but none of them offer much. None of us know why we’re here—or how this all came about. Werewolves are just one of the universe’s many unexplained miracles. Some wouldn’t call it a miracle. Some would call it a curse.”
“Why would they call it that?”
“You can live exactly the same life as you did before—only you’ll be a slave to the moon. You’ll have to always beware of the phases of the moon, and you will have wolfish characteristics from now on. You’ll find that at some phases you might be more aggressive.”
“I’m a little scared,” Robert admitted as he watched the sun dip lower through the tent. 
Dave slid nearer and slid a consolatory arm over his shoulders. Rob felt something leap inside him as Dave’s naked body pressed against him. He caught a glance of Dave’s impressive cock nestled in a bed of black hair and felt blood rushing to his nether regions. He suddenly realized he was very aroused. He watched Dave’s gaze lower to Rob’s knees. A smile played on his lips.
Rob’s cock had lengthened and was rock hard. He gasped and tried to hide his erection. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t mind. It comes with the territory. Increased libido. Most werewolves have sex before they transition.”
Was Dave offering what he thought he was offering? Rob started as Dave began to massage his neck and shoulders. Rob sighed and fell against Dave’s chest. He didn’t realize how tense he had been. Though, Dave’s antics were far from relaxing him. His cock was beading with precum, and he felt Dave’s bulge press against his back. Dave grasped Rob’s jaw and kissed it from behind, his tongue gently sucked at his neck and he began biting his neck. 
A growl that Rob didn’t know existed in him erupted from his throat. He suddenly felt an irresistible urge to dominate Dave, but Dave roared and seized his neck, forcing him on the floor. Rob was torn between rage and arousal. He could feel Dave’s cock pressing into his back; his teeth had a firm hold on the delicate skin of Robert’s flesh. His jaw squeezed harder every time Rob fought against him. His saliva trickled down Rob’s throat, and Dave growled threateningly in his ear. Finally, Dave released him and Rob turned around. 
It was a fearsome sight. Black hair was now erupting from Dave’s skin, his eyes were turning black. He snarled viciously and snapped at Rob with a human jaw. It was the first time Rob had noticed the shadow of the wolf inside him. To his surprise, Rob reacted with snarl and buffeted his face with a fist. Dave attacked him, forcing Rob to turn over and bit his neck so hard that Rob yelped in pain. 
It was several minutes of growling before Dave released him and Rob stayed in his position. He moaned as he felt his ass cheeks spread and something long warm and wet lapped at his balls and asshole. The tongue forced its way inside and Rob groaned with pleasure. There was so much saliva it was running down his ass cheeks and balls, and Rob wanted to turn around and fuck him but Dave retaliated, biting him on the ass. His teeth had grown sharper and they broke through his skin. 
Dave’s face withdrew from his ass and he suddenly mounted Rob. It was very scratchy and hairy. His thick cock plunged through his asshole mercilessly as Dave’s mouth clamped on Rob’s neck. Rob noticed that his arms were lengthening and thick hair was sprouting from his pores. All he could feel was Dave’s cock and balls slamming inside him, the wet, slapping noises and Dave’s growling filling the tent. Dave’s hand curled around waist and found his cock. He squeezed Rob’s cock and stroked it. Every rhythmic pump sent his pleasure nerves afire; sex had never felt this good before. Dave’s cock pushed against his prostate and Rob wished it would go in deeper. He looked down at his own cock and saw that the tip was red and inflamed; his cock was covered in thick, gray hair. He wanted to come so badly. It seemed as though the girth of Dave’s cock was increasing, and he felt the walls of his rectum expand to accommodate him. 
Rob’s jaw and nose were lengthening. He screamed as his bones slid out of place, and the sound that came out of him resembled a beast. 
Dave’s strong jaws were still clamped on his fur as his great, thick cock fucked him mercilessly.  A strange sound ripped from Dave’s throat as he yelled and his cock seized. Rob’s asshole suddenly felt very warm and moist. Dave’s cock pumped inside him a few more times and then the wolf fell off him. 
Semen dripped out of Rob’s anus. He was still extremely hard, and rolled onto his back, exposing his raging hard on. Now fully transformed, Dave bowed his snout near Robert’s penis and lapped at the inflamed cock. The long tongue curled around his penis a few times, stroking it. Robert wanted to scream, but a growl instead escaped his throat. Robert howled in pleasure as semen spurted from his cock. Dave licked the semen from his fur and at the rapidly receding penis. Then he bounded outside. 
He wanted to follow, and tried standing up. It was a strange sensation. He felt that he was upright, but he was on all fours. Rob the wolf clumsily padded outside, his tail upright and curious. A multitude of smells assaulted his snout the moment he ventured outside. He could smell the dung of some animal some fifty yards away, he could identify each pine needle on the forest floor with his nose, and he could smell Dave’s sex a few feet in front of him. He padded forward and his snout irresistibly sniffed under Dave’s tail, his tongue darting out for a momentary taste.
Suddenly the smell of something warm and organic flitted in front of his nose. Somehow, he knew it was a rabbit burrowing under the leaves a hundred feet away. He followed Dave, who surprised the rabbit from its hidey hole. Rob jerked forward and caught the fleeing rabbit in his jaws. Ignoring its screams, his jaw crushed its throat and he shook the animal, breaking its neck. As he ripped open the hide and feasted on its warm flesh and blood, an indescribable satisfaction filled his mind. He had never been a killer, or craved killing, until now.
He felt an urge to move on to bigger prey. He could smell larger animals bolting through the forest. Dave, the black wolf, disappeared into a bush bounding after them, and he followed.
* * *
The faint sounds of birds chirping awoke him. Rob jerked awake and spat out a mouthful of dirt. He distinctly remembered rubbing his snout into the dirt, having caught the scent of another wolf, but otherwise, he couldn’t remember much. He was face down on the forest floor, completely nude. His insides ached. As he rolled over on his back, he caught a glimpse of Dave’s naked back. 
Dirt was smeared all over his body, and his hands dipped into the nearby stream and splashed the water all over him. Rob walked over to join him.
“Morning,” said Dave croakily. 
Rob hissed as he splashed cold water over his face. “I only remember bits and pieces of last night. Did I eat something?”
He laughed, his wet hair sparkling in the sunlight. “You had a rabbit and some fawn. It was fun, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I guess being a werewolf isn’t so bad. How do we find our way back?”
“Use your nose,” he said simply. 
For a quarter of an hour, they walked towards the tent. Rob couldn’t really distinguish his own smell from all the other smells, but Dave said his abilities would increase in time. Finally, they discovered the tent and Rob bowed inside.
The smell of semen and sex inflamed his senses. Suddenly, the memory of their fornication before changing inflamed his mind, and his asshole clenched. They were still naked—Rob could still make a move.
“Did you fuck me just because of the changing?” he asked suddenly.
Dave’s nostrils flared, inhaling the intoxicating scent. His penis was flushed with longing. “Well, not entirely, no. It does influence you a lot but I won’t deny that I find you attractive.”
“I still don’t know who you are, or whether I can trust you.” Though desire had ensnared him, he realized that he barely knew the handsome man. 
“I’m the leader of the pack. The alpha. One of my duties is to help those transitioning.” He approached Rob, smiling slightly. 
Rob wanted nothing more than for Dave’s cock to split him open. He didn’t understand his raging hormones; it was as if he was 18 again. “Do you fuck all of them?”
“Some,” he admitted. “Not all.”
Dave was close enough that Rob could feel his hardened cock press against his thigh. He stroked Rob’s hair and suddenly gave it a sharp yank. “You will submit,” he growled. 
Rob obeyed the pressure on his head and sank to his knees. He found himself face to face with Dave’s thick cock. He gently lapped at the cock as Dave’s powerful hands stroked his hair and jaw. Dave’s thumbs hooked into Rob’s mouth and opened his jaw. Panting, he forced his cock down Rob’s throat and seized his head. 
Robert’s hands traveled up Dave’s legs and massaged his ass, as Dave’s hands forced Rob to swallow the entirety of his cock. Dave slowly fucked his mouth, slightly grunting at his exertion. Dave increased the pressure on the back of Rob’s head, forcing himself inside to the hilt. Rob gagged slightly and tried to remove his mouth, but Dave growled savagely and gripped his hair painfully. Rob stuck out his tongue to allow Dave deeper access and managed to lick his balls. Dave’s hips began to slam against his mouth as his urgency increased. Rob could feel his own cock lengthening and his asshole clenching. He wanted so badly to be fucked.
The tent was filled with the sounds of choking, wet sounds. Dave’s face had reddened as he fucked Rob’s mouth faster and harder. Rob reached around to Dave’s asshole and suddenly inserted three fingers. Dave moaned in pleasure. The fingers became wet with mucus as they fucked him rhythmically with Dave’s thrusts. He slipped another finger in and slammed them in to the hilt. Dave let out a yell with every thrust of his fingers. Red-faced, panting, Dave suddenly removed his cock from Rob’s throat.
Dave flipped Rob over himself as he panted in Rob’s ear, his slimy cock nestled between Rob’s ass cheeks. 
“Fuck,” he swore in frustration. Dave hooked his fingers inside Rob’s asshole and opened it wide. He shifted his hips until the tip of his cock rested on Rob’s asshole. Then he plunged inside. 
“Oh!” Rob moaned as Dave’s huge cock split him open. Dave’s arms had formed a vice grip over his chest and waist. His mouth had found Rob’s neck and alternated between sucking and kissing. 
Dave’s hips jerked upwards, his cock slamming into Rob’s prostate. Dave’s hands were now pinching Rob’s nipples painfully. The other hand drifted to Rob’s cock and began to stroke it with his firm grip. 
“Fuck yes,” he sighed.
As Dave’s thrusts became faster and harder, his jaw clamped once again on Robert’s neck. His instincts took over as he became determined to keep his mate in place. 
The biting, fucking, and feeling of Dave’s hand pumping his cock was bringing him close to the threshold. His eyes rolled in the pleasure of it all. His cock was sliding inside his rectum, pounding against his prostate. His hands balled into fists and Dave was hammering away faster than ever, his growls deafening. Robert moaned and felt spurts of semen shoot out of his cock. At the same time, Dave released his mouth and grunted. There was a last slam against his prostate and suddenly Dave’s cock was swimming in semen. 
Dave kept his moist cock inside, his chest heaving. Robert was still riding the wave of pleasure, and turned his head around to kiss him. Dave kissed him back, his tongue hot against his lips. 
Rob felt semen dripping down the crack of his ass and rolled off Dave. He looked at his lover, whose cock was covered with a white glove of cum. He was watching Robert expectantly. He dutifully lowered his head and caught Dave’s cock in his mouth, sucking and licking every drop of semen. He understood his place now. 
He pulled away, satisfied. His lips were sticky with cum. “What happens now?”
Dave smirked. “You must be initiated into the pack.” He pulled on his jeans as Rob tried to wipe the semen off his thighs. 
“What does that involve?” he asked nervously.
Dave only smiled mysteriously as he pulled on his t-shirt, ducking out of the tent to leave Rob naked and alone. 
END :)

If you liked this story, you might also like the Fucking the Enemy Series.
The Fucking the Enemy Series contains all four gay erotica books compiled into one sizzling story. This 16,710 word compilation contains graphic sex, dubious consent, threesomes, blowjobs, anal sex, and whips! 

Excerpt:

Eric halted in front of the door that led to his Lord’s chambers and faltered. His heart began to jump. Suppose he’s found out. It was a worry that frequented his mind. Lord Gareth was, after all, the head of the state. Years ago, he had crushed the opposing Benial armies and assassinated the cruel, tyrannical king and claimed the land of Kanth for his own. Eric himself had fought with him. He had once believed in Gareth’s virtue, but he had become corrupt with power, as rulers often do.
So he joined a rebel faction in the hopes of dismantling Lord Gareth’s rule. Still, he had grown up with Gareth, looked up to him. The heaviness in his heart grew with every deception he planned, with every murder committed. Though he knew he was doing the right thing, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of guilt.
Once more, he raised his hand to the door and pushed it open.
“Did you summon me, my lord?”
Gareth looked up briefly from his desk.
“Yes, Eric.” He stood up and shuffled the papers on his desk.
“Tell the guards they are relieved of their duty for tonight,” he instructed. He opened a drawer and placed the stack of papers neatly inside. He then added, “And shut the door.”
Eric did as he was told. He waited, quietly surveying the room. He rarely came into Gareth’s study, since the Lord disliked being interrupted during crucial Party work. A large walnut desk stood by an even larger fireplace, guarded with iron-wrought gates. A bearskin rug was placed before the fireplace. The entire room was covered in russet colored marble, which spanned across the huge floor. Near the walnut desk was a miniature library consisting of five tall bookshelves and three vases filled with various books and scrolls, and in one of the vases, an ebony cane.
Gareth turned to Eric. He had taken a scroll from one of the vases and unrolled it onto the top of the walnut desk.
“Does this look familiar?”
His heart raced. Were they the faction plans? Did he finally obtain the headquarters’ blueprints?
Eric stepped closer to the desk and peered down.
It was an ornately decorated scroll with figures strewn all over the page. The figures were naked and copulating in various positions with captions such as “Flowers of the Mango Tree.” The scroll was highly detailed and done in India ink, framed with gold leaf.
He blushed at the images. “My Lord, how does this apply—” he started, and then stopped.
Suddenly Eric felt something cold brush against his crotch. Gareth had snaked his hand around his hips and now cradled the contours of his member with slow, tantalizing movements. Eric stiffened, too frightened to protest.
Gareth leaned in close to his ear and whispered with a voice barely above a sultry murmur, “I know who you are. You’ve betrayed me.” With a perfect tongue, Gareth licked his ear. “Now,” he breathed, “you shall claim your consequence.”
Gareth pressed his body against Eric and fingered his crotch with slow, deft movements. Using the tips of his fingers, he traced the sensuous shape with leisurely, circular movements. Gareth smiled, feeling the warmth increasing beneath his fingers. Eric shuddered as he felt Gareth explore him. He stood rigid, his mouth slightly open in shock. Gareth carefully tucked a lock of Eric’s hair behind his ear. He nestled his head on Eric’s shoulder and began trailing the tip of his tongue against Eric’s neck.

Other titles by Adriana Rossi include:

Claire’s Big Fuck-Up
Claire is bored of fucking the organic chemistry professor for grades. Something exciting (and scary) comes along when a disturbed, top of the class student catches them in the act. When he extorts Claire into servicing him, she finds more than she bargained for! Warning: contains hot oral sex (both ways), fingering, lesbian action, M/f, f/f/M. 

Please, Professor
When Clara panics during a test gone horribly wrong, she decides to seduce the physics Professor and her situation goes from bad to worse. He sees right through her charade and threatens to fail her, but Clara will stop at nothing to get what she wants. Beware: contains spanking, anal sex, and blowjobs! 

About the Author

Adriana is an erotica and romance writer located in the Bay Area. She enjoys film, pop music, and karaoke. For more information, please visit her Twitter.

* * * * *
Blood and Black Leather
By
Cassandra Court

Copyright © 2012 by Cassandra Court

* * * * *
The night air was cool against Jen's skin. A light breeze brought an assortment of sounds to her. The distant roar of traffic, a few late birds chirping from the trees in the park. A quiet conversation from a nearby balcony, the words muffled and lost across the short distance. She smiled to herself, adjusting the large purse slung over her shoulder. It was a good night to hunt. 
There wasn't much call for vampire hunters these days. The ancient profession was sadly outdated. It wasn't that there weren't any vampires left - you could still find them if you looked hard enough, sometimes in surprising numbers. But they weren't the same threat they'd been in past centuries. The old ones were still around because they'd been wise enough to shape up, and the young ones identified more strongly with the human race than their predecessors ever had. Of course you always had the occasional rogue, and that usually meant a nice bounty for the hunter lucky enough to be hired, but that was rare. The proud tradition that had been passed down through generations of Jen's family had become little more than a hobby that very occasionally paid off.
That was all right, though. It wasn't exactly her day job. Besides, there was only one vampire she was interested in hunting.
She'd finally tracked him down. She'd checked and double-checked her observations, and she was sure of it: he was staying here, in this apartment complex. She'd been casually casing the place over the past few weeks, keeping an eye on the comings and goings - seeing who came and went from where. It'd taken a long time, but she'd managed to narrow his location down to one of a handful of buildings. She'd made sure to do it during the day so he wouldn't see her, and to wear strong perfume and freshly laundered clothing so he couldn't catch her scent.
She'd forgone the perfume tonight, though. On the night of her final approach, she liked to be more sporting.
The apartment complex had a jumbled, meandering layout, the buildings connected by long, winding sidewalks. Jen ambled down towards the building she'd thought most likely, her heels making a light clicking noise on the pavement. The breeze kicked up again, lightly tousling her hair. She would have to make sure to keep walking against the wind, rather than with it. She doubted he'd run, but it would be such a disappointment if he scented her before she caught him. Jen preferred to win their game on her own terms.
One of the tenants in the building across from her target had planted roses along their side wall, and Jen stopped to admire them. One of the tricks to this business was to appear nonchalant and nonthreatening, without sacrificing the advantage. Jen certainly didn't look very much like a hunter tonight - wearing her casual overdress and high-heeled boots, she could have been any tenant coming home, or any ordinary visitor. Nobody seeing her here would think she was up to anything suspicious - she'd drawn no particular attention on the way here, and there was nothing unusual about someone stopping to smell the roses. But from this vantage point, she had a clear view of the entrances to the other building. Her quarry would be arriving home soon; it'd taken considerable effort to ferret out his work schedule, for which she applauded him, but she'd at last figured it out. If she'd guessed the wrong building, that was all right. She'd just come back the next night, and the next, checking them one by one until he appeared.
He was a fine mark, always a challenge - but she always caught him in the end.
There were footsteps approaching. A man's business shoes, possibly, from the sound of them. Jen quietly and calmly sidestepped so that she was hidden behind the rose bushes, and watched carefully through the leaves.
Ah. There he was. Right on time.
This was the moment on which everything hinged. Her pride as a hunter hung on this last stretch - to be noticed before she had him perfectly snared would mean ignominy and defeat. She tested the wind - still and calm, but the occasional breeze blew towards her. Smiling, she reached into her purse, her hand closing on polished wood. She watched him silently as he rounded the corner, and walked up to the door she'd been watching.
Oh, but he looked lovely tonight. A modest turtleneck accentuated his broad shoulders and pale skin, his dark hair impeccably styled. His long, graceful fingers reached into his pockets, withdrawing his keys. She licked her lips unconsciously, taking care to blunt the sound of her heels on the sidewalk as she slowly, carefully approached him.
Pulling the stake from her purse produced a faint, unavoidable noise, and he turned. A moment too late: no sooner had he noticed her presence than she had moved, the tip of the stake now pressed to his chest.
He threw his hands up in surrender, eyes wide and focused on her face. Beneath his collar, his Adam's apple bobbed nervously.
"Found you," she said, smiling.
"Yeah," he said, the faint smile on his face belying his anxious tone. "You win."
"I always do, don't I?" she purred, drawing closer to drape an arm over his shoulders, though she didn't lower the stake. She knew he liked that feeling of danger.
"It wouldn't be much fun if you didn't," he admitted softly.
She chuckled, and tilted her head up to kiss his jaw. "Well, then, Alexander, have you been a good boy?"
He swallowed again. "O-of course I have."
"Really?" She drawled the word out, running her finger down along his neck, tugging the high collar down. Underneath the fabric, his flesh was bare. "Oh, dear. Alex, Alex, Alex - what have I told you about lying to me?"
"Jen-- Mistress--"
"How many times, Alex?" she scolded, her voice cold and stern. "How many times have I told you, when I come home to you, I expect my pet to be wearing his collar?"
"I had business tonight, Mistress. Please, I was going to put it back on as soon as I got in - please forgive me..."
"Hmmm," she said, stepping back and taking the stake away. "Open the door."
He nodded nervously and turned back to the door, quickly unlocking it and pushing it open. She pushed past him brusquely, stepping into the unlit apartment.
"Turn the light on."
He did. The apartment was spare and utilitarian in its furnishings, as she'd expected. She'd been surprised by it, once - he was nearly three times her age, and she had expected more... more stuff, she'd supposed. With time, however, she'd come to learn that the sparseness of his possessions was something of a pragmatic necessity. A vampire concealing his identity in the world of mortals had to be able to pack quickly and travel light. And Alex in particular traveled around the country so often for his business ventures that the less he had to pack, the better. His living room consisted of little more than a futon, a floor lamp, a coffee table, and a few framed pictures on the walls to give a little personality to the room.
She dropped her purse onto the coffee table and set down the stake next to it, then turned to face him. He had closed and locked the door while she appraised the room, and was watching her anxiously. One fang stuck out as he bit his lower lip nervously, hands clasped in front of him.
"I'm not happy with you, Alexander."
He bowed his head quickly. "I'm sorry, Mistress."
"But I might forgive you, if you can make it up to me tonight."
He looked up at her, hope and apprehension mingling in his eyes. She smiled, sitting on the futon and crossing her legs. The sudden widening of his eyes and embarrassed glance away told her he'd gotten a glimpse of what she was - and wasn't - wearing under her overdress, and her smile grew wider. It was going to be a good night, she felt.
"Take off your clothes," she commanded. He didn't so much as hesitate before peeling off his turtleneck, tossing it to the side before fumbling with his belt buckle. Jen raised an eyebrow.
"What do you say, Alexander?"
He froze with his hands on his waistband, and coughed embarrassedly.
"Y... yes, Mistress."
"That's better." She'd almost said 'good boy', but she had to keep in character. Normally she would have let his lapse in protocol slide, in the face of his obvious eagerness, but tonight she was going to have to play the disciplinarian. He was being 'punished', after all. "Continue."
Alexander nodded, and pushed his pants and underwear down in one motion. Jen couldn't help being astonished at how quickly he'd gotten hard - it had been mere minutes, and his cock was already flushed and standing at attention. She licked her lips again, admiring its thickness and its slight upward curve. No matter how many times she saw him naked, in all his statuesque glory, she didn't think she would ever get tired of the sight.
"You've eaten recently," she observed. He must have, to have the blood supply necessary for such a gorgeous erection. At least within the past week or so. "Not a human, I trust."
"No, Mistress," he said softly. "I went hunting up in the mountains on Saturday. It was a deer."
"Good," she said. "You may have neglected to wear your collar, but at least you haven't gone completely feral in the time we've been apart."
It was a false equivalence and they both knew it - he'd never liked hunting humans, and her prohibition only gave him additional incentive not to do it - but he had the decency to look shamefaced, shyly turning his eyes downward. He was getting into character, too. 
The silence stretched on for a few moments, and she soon realized he was not going to defend himself. Either he was waiting for permission to speak, or he was honestly remorseful about the collar. The idea of that charmed her. She'd only picked on that as an excuse to be harsh with him, but he appeared to be taking it very seriously indeed.
You can't bear having to go out unmarked, can you, Alex?
She pursed her lips, tapping one finger against the side of her chin.
"Well then," she said, at last breaking the silence, "where is your collar? Tell me."
"It's in the bedroom," he said softly. "On the nightstand. Shall I retrieve it, Mistress?"
"No. I want to put it on you myself. To remind you of who owns you, Alexander."
A sudden, soft intake of breath was her only answer. Although his eyes were still trained downwards, she hid a warm smile behind her hand. So cute. He really was taking this seriously. She gentled her voice a little as she next spoke.
"Come here." She patted the space next to her on the futon. He looked up at her, uncertain and hopeful.
"Yes, Mistress," he said quietly, before obediently crossing the room to sit beside her. His erection bobbed almost comically as he walked.
When he sat down beside her, she tipped up his chin with his hands and kissed him gently on the lips. He made a small, wanting noise in his throat and leaned into it, his hands flexing as he resisted the desire to touch her without permission. His restraint was admirable - it did not break even as she pushed her tongue into his yielding mouth, coaxing a response from his own tongue, hungrily devouring him even as she took care to avoid the sharp tips of his fangs.
Breaking away from the kiss, she licked once more at his lips before suddenly sitting up and placing her hands on her hips.
"Unfold the futon. I am going to get your collar, and I expect you to have the futon spread out, and to be kneeling in the center of it with your hands behind your back, when I arrive," she said, putting the steel back into her voice.
He swallowed and nodded. "Yes, Mistress."
Satisfied, she turned her back on him and went to find the bedroom. The futon's frame creaked behind her as Alex hurriedly pulled it out.
It was a small apartment, designed for single occupancy, and so it wasn't hard to find the bedroom. The collar was on the nightstand, just as Alex had promised. Jen didn't reach for it right away, however.
Anticipation was an important part of this game. She could go back out there now, collar him, and hurry things along; from the silence in the living room she could hear that he was already done with the futon. But it would be so much more delicious, for the both of them, if she made him wait. She would allow him time to process, to absorb what had happened, and to speculate on what would happen next. How angry was she? What punishment would she think appropriate for his transgression? Just what had she brought with her - the whip? The crop? The paddle? What hell would she inflict on him to take him to heaven? Those questions would be boiling over in his mind, growing more urgent the longer he was forced to wait for her on his knees.
Jen let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She was more affected by this than she thought she'd be. She could feel the flush in her cheeks, and the aching heat and pressure between her legs. Going pantyless had been a good idea, this morning. She'd only planned it to titillate Alex, but she was so damp already - it saved her that extra bit of laundry, at least.
She quickly unbuttoned her overdress, tossing it carelessly on the bed, and gave herself a last appraising look in the full-length mirror on the wall. Sheer black stockings hugged her shapely legs, held up by the garters that rested comfortably against her hips. A black leather corset did very little for modesty, even if she'd had any use for the concept tonight: it terminated just under her breasts, offering just enough support to be comfortable without hiding even one inch. Jen turned around, studying her reflection from all angles, and finally nodded. It struck the right balance of dominance and sensuality, she felt. That was a relief. It would have been terribly inconvenient to have to try and modify it now. She hadn't planned to have to discipline Alex so much tonight, but the look still fit. At any rate, if all else failed, she could always step up her dominance game.
Thus satisfied, she at last took the collar from the nightstand and headed back out to the living room, licking her lips in anticipation.
The sight struck her unexpectedly strongly, like a jolt down her spine and straight to her cunt. Alex was kneeling with his legs spread wide apart, his head bowed, his arms folded so tightly behind his back he might as well already be bound. His cock was standing even thicker and taller than before, something she would not have believed without seeing it, and his breathing was ragged. But he did not look up at her approach. He hadn't been instructed to.
What a good boy.
"I see you can still follow some orders," she said, carefully keeping the warmth from her voice. Neither of them would be satisfied if she let up on him now. Alex flinched a little, but nodded. That hadn't been an order or a question, so he didn't speak.
"Lift your head so I can put the collar on."
"Yes, Mistress," he whispered, and did so.
His skin was surprisingly cold to the touch as she buckled the collar around his neck, and alabaster-white. She wondered if all the blood in his body had gone to that glorious cock, flushed a deep purplish-red against the white flesh of his belly. He met her eyes as she lingered over him, and for a moment she couldn't bear to break that shared gaze. He just looked... so sweet, so vulnerable. She could hardly wait to make him scream.
Then she took her hands away, and stood. He still watched her every move, excited and anxious.
"Here's how it's going to be," she said firmly. "You've been very naughty, Alexander - your Mistress was very disappointed to see that you weren't wearing your collar tonight."
"Yes, Mi--" he started, and she slapped him. He let out a small cry, and bowed his head quickly in apology.
"Do not interrupt your Mistress when she is speaking to you."
He nodded, once.
"Now - as I was saying, you need to be punished. I will give you twenty lashes with the short whip. You will count them out, and you will thank your Mistress for taking the time to give you the discipline you need."
Alex's breath was short. He nodded fervently. "Y-Yes, Mistress."
She smiled as she reached into her purse, taking out the aforementioned whip and their usual leather cuffs. "However... I can see that you're sorry, and you have been trying to be a good boy for me. Your efforts haven't gone unnoticed, Alexander."
"Mistress...?"
Draping the cuffs over her arm for a moment, Jen tested the whip against her hand. Still reasonably soft. It'd need some maintenance after this session, but she was fairly sure it wouldn't hurt him unduly tonight. Just because a vampire had greater endurance and healing capability than a human, didn't mean it was alright to be careless with her sub.
"If you take your punishment well, and if you please me sufficiently afterwards--" that was a last-minute addition, but she was so wet from the sight of him and the idea of what she was about to do to him, she suddenly had no desire to pass this night without partaking of his cock "-- then I will permit you a little treat. You're looking a little pale already, Alexander. Do you want to eat?"
His eyes widened, and he nodded, hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure whether it was a trap. "Yes... just a little bit, Mistress..."
"Then I will trust you to take just a little bit - if I think you deserve it," Jen said decisively. She cracked the whip in the air once. "Don't disappoint me tonight, pet."
Alex visibly tried to keep the excited grin off his face, and only half-succeeded. That was so cute she decided not to make up a reason to punish him for it. "Yes, Mistress!"
Smiling, Jen crossed around behind him to bind his wrists. The cuffs, already linked together, clinked softly in the quiet apartment as she buckled them. She stepped back, once that was done, to watch as he tested them. They were strong enough to hold him - he'd had them custom made for that exact purpose - but he always tugged at them a bit once he was bound, just to feel the confinement. She let him strain until he was satisfied, and then braced one high-heeled boot on the futon, brandishing the whip. His back was smooth and white in front of her, and she was about to defile it.
"Count," she ordered, and then delivered the first strike.
Despite the warning, he cried out in surprise as much as pain. An angry red stripe quickly appeared on his creamy flesh, marring those perfect shoulders. Jen watched for a moment, drinking in the sight of his suffering.
"O... One," he stammered, having difficulty finding his breath for a moment. "Thank you, Mistress..."
Jen kept herself silent. This was "punishment", after all - it wouldn't have the right feeling if she displayed her approval of his obedience. Alex had a better reward to look forward to than this, after all.
She brought the whip down a second time, harder. He screamed - the second stroke was always the worst. The first could be unexpected, and by the third, it began to settle into a pattern, but the pain of the second was always seasoned with dread. 
Jen licked her lips. The truth be told, she was always a little envious of Alex at this point. She much preferred being on this side of the whip, but even she had times where a little pain was just what the doctor ordered... and she could imagine very well what Alex was feeling at this moment. 
"Two," he whispered shakily. "Thank you, Mistress."
His voice might have trembled, but he had spoken more decisively than before. Good - he was beginning to savor it. Jen took a moment to let him bask in it - her silence, the lingering pain, the dread of the next strike. Let him mull over it, like a fine wine.
And then, at the very moment he began to relax - a third strike.
"Three!" Alex screamed the word out in agony, his back arching. Had she seen his hips jerk a little bit? She had. "Thank you, Mistress!" 
It was all she could do to stifle a giddy, hungry laugh as she wound up for the next stroke. It'd be a wonder, she thought, if she didn't come just from this.
***
"T... twenty," Alex whispered at last, weak and trembling, slumping with relief. "Thah... thank you... Mistress."
There was a fire in Jen tonight, he thought. He was a little surprised - she'd whipped him this hard before, and she'd whipped him this long, but this was the first time she'd done both at once. His back felt like a war zone, twenty long, sharp pains blurring and smearing together into a deep, indistinct agony. He felt aware of every inch of himself, and unsure whether he wanted to curl up in a ball and hide away or to greedily soak up even more of every kind of sensation. A part of him wanted Jen to keep whipping him until he bled.
She wouldn't, of course. She'd always been scrupulously careful about her sadism - and on a night like tonight, she would probably want to take extra care. It was something that frustrated him sometimes. That kind of caution was probably justified with a human sub, but with him, she could go so far as to break bones without notably inconveniencing him. All the same, though, he did respect that conscientious attitude. And she did hurt him very well. Maybe someday he could talk her up to something a little harsher - he couldn't help thinking she'd rather enjoy branding him with hot metal, if she'd let herself - but for now, this was plenty. This was wonderful.
Jen knelt down on the futon behind him, and Alex shuddered as she ran soft hands over his abused flesh. He wanted to flinch away from the pain, and he wanted her to never stop.
"Good boy, Alexander," she said quietly, and he closed his eyes in bliss. If not for their current position, he would happily have bent down to lick her boots for that. "You did very well. I'm sure you've learned your lesson, haven't you, pet?"
"Yes, Mistress," he murmured. But he wasn't quite sure he was being honest. He really had meant to have his collar on by the time she found him, but if this was what he got for not wearing it, he was tempted to start "forgetting" it on purpose. He shivered as Jen kissed his shoulder. He was so sensitized that even that light touch felt incredibly erotic.
"But you've got a little further to go if you want a treat," she murmured, stroking her hand down his chest. His breath hitched as she brushed over one erect nipple - turned into a sharp gasp as she bit his shoulder softly. He could feel his cock twitch demandingly.
"Mistress!" he gasped. "Ah... aah..."
"Yes, pet?" He could feel her smile against his skin.
"It's... it's too much, you'll..." Alex gulped air, trying to compose himself. "I don't know... if I'll be able to-- I'm too close. I don't want to... to leave you unsatisfied..."
"Afraid you'll come too fast?" she asked, surprisingly gentle. He nodded. 
Jen nuzzled his neck affectionately, her long hair brushing against his shoulders. "I appreciate your concern, Alex. If you're that worried, then I'll overlook it this time. Consider yourself fortunate."
"I... thank you, Mistress." He felt strange about accepting this largesse. She'd sounded sincere. Sometimes she would offer him liberties that she intended to punish him for taking, and she always signaled it clearly with a distinct, almost sarcastic tone of voice; Alex was then free to take that warning or not, depending on whether he felt like being punished that night. But she hadn't used that tone this time, indicating that her leniency was genuine. 
But even if she wouldn't punish him for coming first, he still wasn't sure he wanted to. The smell of arousal was thick in the air, unmistakable; her hands idly wandered, driving him very nearly to distraction. Perhaps she was just so wound up from whipping him that she didn't care to put in the effort of controlling when he orgasmed, too.
If that was the case, he really didn't want to come first. It would feel like letting her down.
"Well, then," she said, her voice low and husky as she rose up from behind him, pushing lightly on his shoulder. "On your back."
Alex groaned at the thought of fucking while lying directly on his bound hands and abused back, and let himself be pushed down. The futon felt rough against his tender skin, and he hissed softly. He had a moment to recover, and to think, as she hurried to grab a condom from her purse. The feel of the latex clinging to him as she rolled it out over his dripping cock made him shiver.
It also made him think. The condom would take care of his semen, but Jen was soaking wet - he could see it glistening on her pubic hair as she stood over him. This was going to be a very wet fuck.
"Mistress, should we-- a towel? Or something?"
She paused midway through straddling him. Her expression was unguarded, clearly torn between lust and practical concern. She bit her lip in thought. "How much do you care about this futon?" 
He decided he didn't care that much.
"Never mind," he said. "It's all right - let me please you, Mistress."
"Yes," she said, her voice thick with desire. And with very little preamble, she grabbed his sheathed cock and guided it directly into her dripping cunt. 
Alex clenched his hands into fists as he felt her surround him, her soft flesh gripping him tightly, her warmth penetrating through the thin latex. He took a deep breath, firmly resisting the urge to just thrust. He would not be greedy, he had decided. The day a vampire couldn't control himself well enough to let a human come first...
It became a challenge to hold on to that resolve as she started to move. The whipping must have been as good for her as it had been for him - she rode him hard, hands braced on his chest, hips slamming down again and again to take his cock in as deep and hard as her cunt would take it. She moaned and sighed and growled, digging her fingernails into his skin. 
She fucked him so hard he wasn't sure where he was anymore. He felt like he was flying. She was hot and tight around his cock, so wet they glided together effortlessly; his back was one hot blinding smear of pain, his shoulders aching from the awkward position he was forced into, the metal links of the cuffs digging uncomfortably into his skin. Pleasure and pain mingled together, the sensations so overwhelming he almost felt as if he was transcending them - as if he'd discovered some whole new realm of sensation. His only anchor was the rhythm of her hips against his, a repetitive spike of deep, gut-twisting pleasure, driving him higher and higher and higher--
And then her cunt clenched around him, so tight for a moment he didn't even know what was happening until he realized she was shouting, giving voice to her ecstasy with a yowl like a cat in heat as she came hard.
Alex was beyond resistance, beyond even wanting to endure. His hips bucked upward sharply as he came, her orgasm coaxing out his own.
***
"... Can you take the cuffs off now? My shoulders are killing me."
Jen raised her head from where it was pillowed on Alex's chest, and laughed a little. "Sure, okay. Roll over."
He obliged, feeling boneless and limp as a sack of wet sand. The cuffs clinked quietly as Jen unbuckled them, and Alex let his arms fall to his sides with a sigh of relief. 
"Thanks," he murmured. They seemed to be done with the formal dominance and submission for the evening, to judge by Jen's casual languor, so it seemed safe to let himself relax as well. After a moment, seeing that Alex wasn't inclined to move, Jen scooted over to steal his back for a pillow. She stroked a hand lightly over the fading red marks, kissing his shoulder apologetically when he took in a shaky breath.
"How is it?" she asked.
"Getting better. They'll be gone by morning." Alex craned his neck around to give her a hopeful look. "Or even sooner, if I can get something to eat...?"
Jen laughed, sitting up. "All right, all right. Yeah, you were good. You can have your treat."
Relaxed and spent though he might have been, the promise of fresh blood was enough to focus Alex's pleasantly sex-fogged mind. He pushed himself up, grinning, and scooted over. Jen swept her hair to the side, favoring him with a fond smile as she offered up her neck. She hardly made a sound as he embraced her lovingly and put his fangs to her throat - just the faintest gasp as he broke the skin, and a soft sigh. She wrapped her arms lazily around his shoulders, settling in against him as he drank of her blood. 
Hers was the only human blood he would take. She trusted him with that: not just that he would constrain his feeding habits in that way, but also that he would never take too much. It would be all too easy for him to hurt her, if he wasn't careful - and she trusted him to take that care. Just as he trusted her, when she teased him with the stake or beat him with the whip, never to go too far. She knew that he was safe in his arms - just as he knew that he was safe in hers. No matter what.
Alex soon finished his meal, licking gently at the wound to encourage it to heal. In a moment, it would be gone. Jen sighed gently, relaxing against him.
"All done?" she murmured sleepily.
"All done," he assured her, licking his lips clean before kissing her cheek. "Thank you."
"Mm."
"Want me to go get you some water? Something to eat? Iron supplements?"
She laughed. "Later, baby. Right now I just wanna be here with you... Lie down, will you?"
Alex smiled and lowered them gently back down to the futon. Jen immediately snuggled closer, letting out a sleepy and contented sigh.
"I love you," he told her.
"Yeah," she breathed lightly, nuzzling at his collarbone. "I love you too."
END :)

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Space explorer Julia has found a pretty sweet deal on the Earthlike planet Hippolyta: lush alien landscapes to explore, and the chance to spark a hot romance with the beautiful homesteader Emily. But when she ventures out into the alien woods, she has a wild encounter she could never prepare for - and is given an offer that will change her forever...

Excerpt:

"My pack desires to know your kind. We do not seek conflict. But we are frightening to you. Are we not?"
Julia looked away, oddly embarrassed. "A little bit..."
"We want a liaison," Bright said. "Will you go between for us?"
The tension went out of Julia's shoulders, and she smiled in relief. "Oh, of course! I'd be glad to."
"But you cannot as you are. Will you join us?"
Alarm bells were starting to sound in the back of Julia's mind. "Well... what would that entail?"
"Become one of us. Part of our pack. Then you will understand both our ways and yours. Then you will be our liaison."
Julia considered the offer, biting her lip. It was possible that they just meant an initiation of some sort, of course. Stay with them for a while and learn, maybe undergo a hazing. Like joining a sorority back in college. But that didn't seem the most likely option, somehow - not when she was talking to a pack of werewolves. Maybe Hippolytan lycanthropy wasn't transmissible, though? She didn't know.
"How long will it take? I promised I'd be back tomorrow..."
"It will be done this night," Bright said. There was something about the way she spoke - the abrupt, authoritative tone, her way of saying how things would be, rather than asking - that was strangely enticing.
And, well, that confirmed it. One night wouldn't cover a crash course in Hippolytan wolf culture, Julia was pretty sure. Which meant they wanted her to become a werewolf.

Other titles by Cassandra Court include:

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Ricki never thought she'd have anything to do with cocks - until following a mysterious pop-up ad gave her one of her very own! What's a lesbian to do with a brand-new cock - and what will her girlfriend Leslie think? #1 in the Magic Pop-Up series! Warning: This story contains explicit f/f sex, oral sex, and transformation, and is not for readers under 18 years!

What a Mindfuck!
Married woman Kelly has a fetish for hypnosis, but she's never been able to be hypnotized - until now! When a mysterious ad makes Kelly's wish to be hypnotized come true, she and her husband Martin start on a journey of erotic hypnosis, limited only by Martin's imagination...

About the Author

TWITTER: @CassandraCourt
AMAZON BIO PAGE: http://www.amazon.com/author/cassandracourt
SMASHWORDS BIO PAGE: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/cassandracourt

* * * * *
Fuck on the Wild Side
By
Jessi Bond

Copyright © 2012 by Jessi Bond

* * * * *

“No.”
“But -”
“No, no, no. And again…”
“Matt…”
“…no.”
Matt was already halfway out the door when Glenn jumped out of his chair and ran after him, grabbing his arm. “Come on. There’s got to be something that would make it worth your while.”
“Absolutely fucking not. No way. Not if he were the last writer on earth and I could never edit anything ever again; no. I will not work with that lunatic. Also, get the fuck off me.”
He managed to shake off Glenn’s grip and escape further out into the office, but Glenn was relentless. “Try to see things from my point of view. I need a bestseller. You two can give me a bestseller, guaranteed. I know he’s not your favorite person in the world, but if you can find it in your heart -”
“No.”
“- Amy needs braces -”
“No.”
“- Christmas is coming -”
“It’s March.”
“It’s still coming.”
“No.”
“That’s not really a disputable fact, Matt. Comes every year. Like clockwork.”
“Fuck off.”
“You owe me.”
Something in Glenn’s tone made Matt stop and turn. 
He lowered his voice. “Don’t do this.”
Glenn’s face was as firm and impassible as a brick wall. All around them, the other employees of the publishing house tap-tap-tapped on their keyboards and all tried desperately to look like they weren’t straining to hear.
Matt clenched his jaw until it hurt.
“Fine,” he gritted out. “But this is it.”
-
“This was not part of the deal,” Matt snarled into his cell phone. He was standing outside of the fifth dive bar he’d had to hunt through tonight, stinking of beer and cigarettes, and Glenn sounded completely unsympathetic. 
“I don’t believe we addressed this specifically at all. Would you like me to send someone else to find him?”
“No,” Matt forced himself to reply. There was no point in anyone else looking. Jack Archer wouldn’t allow himself to be found if he didn’t want to be. “I just made the crazy assumption that you had, you know, any idea where he is right now. In the entire world.”
“We’re pretty sure he’s within the city,” Glenn replied, sounding distracted. “I don’t think he’s got a valid passport.”
“You don’t need a passport to leave the city, Glenn.”
“You sure? I haven’t been above forty-fifth street since Jillian was born.”
“You’ve been a great help, as always. Thanks.”
Matt hung up and raked a hand through his hair. There were only so many places a guy like Archer would be found, and most of them were even more dark, dirty and depressing than those he’d already visited. After another hour of fruitless searching, he gave up and headed back to his apartment.
He was on the phone with Glenn, delivering the bad news, as he walked through the door. In that moment, two things happened simultaneously. He looked into his living room and saw that Archer was lounging on the sofa, feet up on the very expensive end-table, T.V. remote in hand. And he realized that he was relieved - no, even glad - to see him.
“…you’re sorry that…what?” Glenn prompted him, after he’d stopped talking mid-sentence.
“Nothing,” said Matt, as Archer looked up and waved. “Never mind.” He hung up.
“Good evening,” said Archer. “I ordered pizza.”
“How did you get…you know what? Never mind.”
Archer reached into his pocket and held up a set of keys. “Remember when I watered your plants while you were in Cannes?”
“Two years ago? And you gave those back.”
“I gave you some keys back.”
“I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of engaging you in a conversation about why you’d even want a copy of my keys. I’m really not. What kind of pizza?”
“Thin crust, pesto and artichoke, extra cheese. I was thinking to myself - my God, Jack, why don’t you do a nice thing for him for once? Make a copy of his keys and then he won’t have to loan you his anymore when you need your plants watered. I was fairly drunk at the time.”
“They all died,” said Matt, around a mouthful of pizza. “See if I ever ask you for another favor.”
“Normally I revel in low expectations, but I really am sorry about that. I sort of got wrapped up in my work.”
“Right. And what work is that, exactly? What do you have to show for it?”
“Absolutely nothing. It was rubbish, I chucked it in the bin.”
“Well, that’s all going to change. Glenn needs a bestseller.”
“Glenn always needs a bestseller.”
“Glenn always wants a bestseller,” Matt corrected him, settling down on the sofa with a pad and pencil in hand. “But now he needs a bestseller. And he thinks you’re just the one to produce it, given the proper encouragement.”
“Okay,” said Archer, cracking his knuckles. “I have this idea. But it’s awful.”
Matt smiled down at the notepad in his lap. This was always how the best ones started.
-
Around two-thirty in the morning, when Matt woke up to use the bathroom and tripped over an antique typewriter in the hallway, he started to remember why he’d been so reluctant to work with Archer again. The man himself was nowhere to be found, but his paraphernalia had somehow multiplied and strewn itself throughout Matt’s normally well-organized apartment. Pens, paper, musty books in languages he didn’t even recognize - surveying his living room, Matt felt an irritated heat prickling up the back of his neck.
Oh.
Oh no.
Matt resolved to go back to sleep and try to ignore it, only to wake an hour later with that telltale dryness in his mouth and the heat spreading, spreading, all the way down his back…
A glass of water and a cool shower later, Matt left the bathroom only to catch a glimpse of Archer hunched over his typewriter in the living room, reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. His mouth was downturned in a frown of concentration, a glass of brandy sitting forgotten at his elbow. He looked like he’d been warped through time, right from Gertrude Stein’s sitting-room. Matt stood there for far too long, just staring at him in the dim light of the reading lamp, before quietly returning to bed and contemplating his predicament.
The heat was coming. There would be no stopping it.
Already, he could feel the familiar tingle in his groin. Archer had looked good. Matt gritted his teeth and tried to remind himself that this was just a thing, just some weird hormonal thing, and he’d been dealing with it since he was a teenager and he knew damn well enough to just ignore the feelings and ignore the heat until it became unbearable. Then, he’d hit up some seedy gay bar in a different part of the city and get himself fucked raw, and he’d be fine for another month. Sex with friends, acquaintances, or co-workers was strictly out of the question. No matter how much they looked like a porno version of Ernest Hemingway.
Normally he could stave off the worst effects of this fever by avoiding sexual thoughts, but now Matt found himself unable to stop thinking about the way Archer’s forearms looked when his sleeves were rolled up, the sly curve of his mouth when he smiled - 
Matt’s dick, which had begun to stir as soon as he’d looked at Archer, was now fully hard, creating an absurd tent out of the towel he’d wrapped around his waist. He threw it off and laid down on the floor, tucking his toes underneath the bed, to see how many crunches he could do before it would go away. 
The answer, it turned out, was “not enough.”
All right. Okay. So his dick was absurdly hard, flushed red and angry-looking, his balls were aching, and his ass felt empty and neglected. And his abs were burning, but that was his own stupid fault for thinking he could ignore one of these feverish hard-ons by working out. But it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. He’d just started this cycle; it was early enough yet that some vigorous masturbation could stave off the insanity and night sweats for a few more days.
Matt double-checked that his bedroom door was locked, then fumbled a bottle of lube out of the end-table drawer and knelt on the bed. His hands were trembling as he poured the lube onto his fingers and reached behind himself, pressing against his ass, unable to stop himself from bucking back against his own hand, so eager. His asshole was tingling, his dick throbbing, and he desperately needed to take care of both right fucking now. Through some feat of superhuman willpower, he kept his free hand off of his cock long enough to stretch himself open, long enough to get ready to accommodate the dildo he kept tucked behind his bed. He pushed it in slowly, clenching his thigh with his other hand to keep from jerking off, knowing that he’d come as soon as he touched his rigid, over-sensitized cock. He had to draw this out for a little longer, enough so that it would bring him some measure of satisfaction.
When the dildo nudged his prostate, he moaned out loud before he could stop himself. He wasn’t usually a noisy fuck, even when this fever took him, but something about tonight was sending him into even more of a frenzy than usual. Biting on the side of his hand to keep quiet, he continued fucking himself with the dildo, stretching his asshole just to the point of pain, each deep thrust simultaneously soothing and electrifying him. The thought of touching his dick didn’t even occur to him anymore, it felt so fucking good like this, just like this, a big plastic cock inside him and his dick spurting pre-cum like a leaking faucet. It was fucking peculiar. He didn’t even normally have it, not more than a few drops at least. Somehow he found room for this intellectual curiosity in the midst of all the sensations - and then, suddenly, he became aware that he was going to come.
He barely had time to register surprise before his toes curled, his dick surged, and his heart nearly stopped - he had hurtled past the point of no return, but his body still paused on the precipice, seeming as confused as he was. Then he was gone, lost in it, pleasure arcing through him from groin to chest and back again, the first few massive spurts shooting halfway across the room. 
As he knelt there, panting, slowly coming back to himself, Matt hoped to God that Archer was too involved in his work to have heard anything.
The thing was, though - Matt had always enjoyed a dick in his ass, ever since he’d learned that it was a thing, but he’d never been able to climax that way. Not without touching his cock, or being touched, or rubbing off on something. This was a revelation. Maybe I should have been fucking myself to pictures of Archer the whole time, he thought to himself, chuckling, but that was a dangerous line of inquiry. Maybe the fevers were getting stronger as he got older, or…maybe there was something in the water. It couldn’t be Archer - what, did his mere presence inspire something that allowed Matt to achieve the elusive anal-sex orgasm, coming hard around a dildo like the fucking cockslut that he was?
Oh, no.
Matt shook his head in an effort to clear it. When he started thinking of himself in terms like “cockslut,” it was never a good sign. The fever was building. He realized he was still as hard as ever, still with an ache lodged deep in his solar plexus, the kind that wouldn’t go away until he could get well and properly fucked. All the same, he took his stiff cock in hand and jerked it mercilessly until he came again, reveling in that moment of pure satisfaction before the want came back, stronger than before. 

-

“Don’t you want to…I don’t know…go out somewhere?”
“What, do you want to go to a coffeeshop?” Archer blinked at him over the top of that infernal typewriter. “We can go.”
“No,” said Matt. “I mean, just you.”
“But I can’t go alone,” said Archer, wide-eyed. “I need to bounce ideas off you. I need you to read over my shoulder. I thought that’s why you went looking for me in the first place. We need to do this together.”
“But what if I need a break?”
“People who spend thirty-seven weeks on the New York Times bestseller list don’t take breaks.”
“Most people like to write alone, you know.”
“Well, I’m not most people.”
Matt was getting twitchy. There was no other way to describe it. He’d survived the last few days by fucking himself silly every night with the dildo, but it wasn’t the same. He needed the real thing, hot, hard flesh - no, he couldn’t be thinking like this, not in front of Archer. He seemed focused on his typing, but if Matt had learned anything about him in their previous work together, it was that Archer was always paying the most attention when he seemed to be paying the least.
“I didn’t mean to disrupt your personal life. I didn’t know you had a personal life, actually. Every time we’ve worked together you didn’t really seem to have a lot going on.”
“That’s because I can’t have anything going on while you’re around, you impossible prick.”
“Now, now,” said Archer mildly. “You don’t mean that.”

-

Archer was his most productive in the wee hours, so there was absolutely no chance of sneaking out to a club that night. Matt was going to have to find a way to arrange anonymous sex in the middle of the day, somewhere other than his apartment.
He posted on the local sleazy personals site the next morning, as soon as he’d figured out the wording.
Fit, experienced bottom looking for a good time this afternoon. Must host. Pics for pics.
Short, simple, and to the point. Matt hoped desperately that it would yield results; he was beginning to feel like his skin would crawl off if he didn’t get some dick.
He did get quite a few messages, but most of them never responded after he sent a hastily-snapped picture of his torso and his (by now) near-constant erection. He told himself it was just cold feet, but he was beginning to feel discouraged; he stood for a few minutes in front of the full-length mirror, naked, examining himself, trying to imagine what a potential one-night stand might find wanting. Well. One-afternoon stand.
He decided to go back into the listing and add the picture in directly. At least that way he wouldn’t be fielding messages only to be disappointed. After carefully cropping the background to remove any sense of place, he added it in and hastily jerked off to some of the listings before going back out into the living room to check on Archer.
He’d taken his pages of typewritten notes and was typing on his laptop now; it was all part of his mysterious artistic process, which Matt never questioned too deeply for fear of going insane. He ordered them some take-out from Archer’s favorite Chinese place without even having to ask, because that was how well he knew this asshole. It was upsetting if he thought about it too much. Over lunch, Archer shared some of what he’d been working on, and Matt made suggestions, leading to a lively discussion about a particular plot point that Archer loved, but Matt dismissed as unrealistic. By the end Archer had completely revamped a section of the book, complaining the whole time, then finally admitting that it was better this way.
“Here’s to another successful collaboration,” said Archer, cracking open his fortune cookie. “I really appreciate your feedback, Matt. Have I ever told you?”
Matt’s eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with you? Did something fall on your head?”
“I just thought I’d let you know, is all. I was just kidding before, about you not having a life. I know you have a life. I know you put it on hold every time we have to work together, because I’m needy, and I’m sorry. And, you know, if you wanted to have someone over for anonymous sex…I don’t mind at all.”
Fuck.
“What?” Matt snapped, trying his best to look like he didn’t know exactly what Archer was talking about.
 “Oh, you mean this isn’t you?” Archer spun his computer around. “I know you think I’m stupid but give me some credit. I can see that painting on your wall through the crook of your elbow.”
“Shit. Is it that recognizable?”
“Only to people who know what painting you’ve got in your bedroom. So…” Archer left this statement trailing, eyes fixed on Matt, absentmindedly chewing on the wrong end of a chopstick.
“And only to people who are trawling for gay sex on the internet,” Matt said, triumphantly. 
“Research,” Archer responded immediately. “It’s all for the book.”
“Oh, really? Do tell me about this scintillating plot point that we haven’t discussed at all, which I’m sure will fit seamlessly into your magnum opus.”
“Fine. I was reading them for fun. Which is more than I can say for you, ‘experienced bottom.’”
“This isn’t really any of your business, you know.”
“I can help you.”
Matt stared. Archer met his gaze evenly, still gnawing gently on the chopstick, his lips wrapped obscenely around it - 
Oh, no, this was bad. This was very bad.
“What do you mean, ‘help?’” Matt stood and tried to back away, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. 
“You know exactly what I mean,” said Archer, calmly. “I’m offering to fuck you so you don’t have to find a stranger. Obviously you need it, you’re as jumpy as…I don’t know, something that jumps a lot. A kangaroo?”
A hysterical little laugh bubbled up in Matt’s chest and escaped before he could stop it. “And you call yourself a writer.”
“I’m not expecting you to say yes right away, I’m just saying - think about it.”
I won’t be able to think at all for much longer, Matt realized, thankful that the table came up just high enough to conceal his erection. He wants to fuck you, he wants to fuck you, HE WANTS TO FUCK YOU. HOW ARE YOU NOT LETTING HIM FUCK YOU. An ever-growing corner of his brain was screaming at him, berating him for being such an idiot, but he just shook his head.
Archer shrugged. “All right, if you want to see how long you can hold out, that’s no business of mine. But with the way you’ve been acting lately, I predict it’s only a day or two before you throw yourself at me, so you might as well come to terms with it now.”
The most maddening part about it was how cool and intellectual he was being. Matt wanted to punch him in the face and then grab him by the collar and drag him to bed and not let him out for the rest of the week - 
No, no, no, he was not going to do this.
He sat back down and scooted his chair in, studiously ignoring the fact that his cock was straining so hard under his pants that it was nearly touching the underside of the table. “We’re not talking about my sex life anymore,” he said. “Back to work.”
With a slight smile on his face, Archer, began talking about his latest progress. Matt didn’t hear a word. After ten minutes he snuck his hand under the table and squeezed his dick, exhaling sharply at the moment of slight relief that it gave him. He watched Archer carefully; Archer’s eyes were fixed on the screen of his laptop. Matt squeezed again, then rubbed, tiny little motions with his thumb and forefinger around the head of his cock that would be imperceptible above the table. He stared at Archer, at his mouth, his arms, the hunch of his shoulders over the table, the subdued strength of his body, listened to the low rumble of his voice even if he didn’t hear the words. Matt’s whole body was beginning to tense; he felt a rush of adrenaline at the thrill of doing this secretly while Archer sat mere feet away, oblivious. Then, suddenly, the low rumbling stopped.
“I feel,” said Archer, fixing him with a heavy stare, “like you’re not listening to me.”
He stood up and prowled around to Matt’s side of the table, leaning over him as if reading something over his shoulder. “What’s so interesting in your lap? I’m terribly curious.”
Matt felt paralyzed, caged in, the heat of Archer’s body surrounding him. 
“Don’t do this to yourself,” he said. “Let me help you.”
When Matt spoke, his voice was soft and broken.
“You don’t understand what’s happening to me,” he said.
“I don’t need to,” said Archer. 
And he was right. He usually was - which was just one of the many maddening things about him.
He backed away, letting Matt stand up, and he made a little noise in the back of his throat when he saw what the table had been hiding.
“Jesus. Matt,” he said, reaching for the zipper. “I’m going to suck you off. All right?”
Matt nodded, suddenly unable to speak, his mouth desert-dry. Archer sank to his knees, taking Matt’s cock out and sucking it into his mouth without hesitation. Matt gasped at the feeling and grasped Archer by the hair, trying to hold himself upright against the merciless ministrations of Archer’s tongue. He was going to come. “Jack, wait, I -”
Archer met his eyes and sucked harder, swirling his tongue around the head of Matt’s cock, and he was done for. His orgasm was fast and harsh, knocking the breath out of him, and he collapsed, leaning heavily on Archer’s shoulders, strangely exhausted yet still on fire, still wanting more from somewhere deep inside. 
“Come on,” said Archer, somehow managing to get to his feet and hold Matt upright at the same time. Matt stumbled, and Archer swept him off the ground in a single burst of strength, carrying into the bedroom bridal-style. Matt laughed weakly, squirming, the tingling in his ass getting harder and harder to ignore. Archer dropped him on the bed and undressed him quickly, then stripped off his own clothes; he was hard already, wanting this, which was nice - Matt wasn’t really sure how much of him wanted to fuck his editor and how much of him was just doing a favor, but he wasn’t in any position to care. He rolled over onto all fours, and Archer was on him in a second, rutting up against him, trapping his long dick in the cleft of Matt’s ass. Matt made a sort of purring noise, low in his throat, pressing back at Archer, silently begging. Archer chuckled a little, pressing open-mouthed kisses on his back and sliding his cock up and down, so close to where Matt really wanted him.
“Are you sure you’re ready?” Archer whispered.
“Fuck you,” Matt whispered back.
Grabbing the lube from the end-table, Archer had his slicked fingers at the entrance of Matt’s ass in record time. Two fingers slid in easily, and he knew just how to crook them to make Matt pant and groan. “You know, I’ve been listening to you for days. It’s been driving me mad.”
“Eavesdropping is rude,” Matt grunted. The fever felt stronger than ever, but it was a good burn, a slow tingling fire travelling through his veins, lighting him up with pleasure. If he’d had to guess, he would have pegged Archer as a pretty good lay, but this was beyond anything that he could have imagined. 
“There’s condoms in the drawer,” Matt muttered.
“Getting impatient?” Archer jammed a third finger in, viciously, and Matt’s body arched at the ecstatic burn of it. Then he withdrew his fingers just as quickly, and Matt hissed at the loss until he felt the blunt head of Archer’s dick pressing against his asshole. He pressed back on it, bearing down, feeling it slide inch-by-inch inside him. Archer was hardly moving, just letting Matt take it himself, until he was sheathing completely inside Matt’s ass. Then, grabbing him by the waist, he withdrew and slammed back into him mercilessly.
Matt yowled, grabbing the pillows for dear life, as Archer fucked him exactly as hard as he wanted. The feeling was incredible, building quickly, and he was almost over-sensitive, almost wanting to tell Archer to stop, but the pleasure was too intense. He came too quickly, again, the orgasm forced out of him by the relentless pounding of Archer’s cock. He let out a series of humiliating noises as Archer fucked him through it, only hesitating when Matt’s asshole clenched so tight that he couldn’t move. Other than that, he didn’t stop, even as Matt sagged, no longer able to hold himself up on his arms, letting his head fall into the pillow, every breath coming out like a ragged sob. 
He’d never let anyone fuck him past an orgasm before, usually feeling too over-sensitized to consider the idea, and he now realized what he’d been missing. Even though the sharp spike of pleasure was over, the more subtle sensations of his climax were still with him, magnified with every thrust of Archer’s ever-hardening dick. It was so intense it almost hurt. He became aware that he’d been letting out a low moan for several minutes now, only stopping to breathe, to whisper yes, harder just in case Archer should get the wrong idea and pause even for a second.
Archer’s fingers were digging hard into his ribs, every exhale a harsh growl, and then he felt one hand sliding under his chest to raise him back up onto his arms. He still couldn’t manage it himself, but Archer held him up, pulling him close, lowering his mouth to the back of Matt’s neck and nuzzling at it. Too fuzzy-brained to question it, Matt just shivered and gripped the pillows again. 
Then, a burst of pain - Archer had sunk his teeth in. Not far enough to draw blood, it felt like, but enough to leave a bitch of a hickey on the back of his neck. Matt hissed, and Archer licked the spot as if to apologize. But then he bit down again, harder this time, still just enough to grip the skin, not to break it, but it fucking hurt and Matt didn’t dare say a word lest he stop fucking him.
The snapping of Archer’s hips had grown more frantic, less measured, and Matt realized he must be close. The thought sent a shock of arousal through him, from the intense pleasure deep in his ass to the sharp pinpoint of pain at the back of his neck, and he realized Archer was going to make him come again, just with a cock in his ass, with Archer’s teeth in his neck, Archer’s fingers making bruises on his torso, every soft growling breath hot in Matt’s ear.
He came spectacularly hard, more long white spurts of jizz all over the sheets, because during these fevers his body never seemed to run dry. He became aware that he was screaming hoarsely but he couldn’t stop it, not now, not with Archer suddenly losing his rhythm and clawing at his skin, thrusting erratically, growling louder now, biting down harder than ever, until finally, he paused, letting out a long, low noise, and managed a few more sloppy thrusts before he stopped, letting go of Matt’s neck as he did.
“Christ,” was the first thing Matt muttered, face buried in the pillow again after Archer had let him fall. He touched the back of his neck and brought his hand around to examine; no blood, but a good quantity of saliva - and, no doubt, an impressive bruise would be blooming soon.
He rolled over and saw Archer standing in the corner, hastily re-dressing, looking at the floor. 
“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice hoarse. Archer just shook his head at first, then finally spoke.
“Nothing,” he said. “Nothing, I’m sorry. I just have to…”
He trailed off, leaving the bedroom hastily, and Matt heard the apartment door slam behind him. 
Well, that was peculiar.
Matt was used to basking in these afterglows alone, so he didn’t really mind - except for the nagging fear that Archer might never come back and finish his bestseller. He pulled some clothes on and went out to the living room to look over what Archer had already written, so at least he’d have some useful feedback to give when (and if) the man ever came back.
Matt stretched luxuriously in the chair; he really did feel fantastic, better than he’d ever felt during one of these spells. He really wanted to curl up somewhere warm and nap for the rest of the day, but he had to get something done. 
He spent the rest of the afternoon reading; it was good stuff, a sort of modern-day Jekyll and Hyde tale. Until now he’d only heard excerpts as read by Archer, or the story notes and tiny tidbits that he allowed Matt to see, so it was interesting to see how all the pieces fit together. It was getting dark before he knew it, and Matt decided to get himself something to eat. For some reason, the smell of the fish fry down the street was making his nose twitch. He hadn’t eaten seafood in years, but he was craving it now - a stronger craving than he usually experienced for any kind of food.
After standing in line at the fish fry and walking back home, it was now almost completely dark out and he was beginning to feel very strange. Maybe the smell of the fry-oil had gotten to him. But the fish still smelled incredibly good, so he tore into it, devouring the two fillets quickly and leaving the French fries behind. They just didn’t sound terribly appealing. But, on second thought, they smelled salty, and he was craving salt suddenly - 
At that moment, Archer came walking through the door. If he thought it was odd to find Matt licking the salt off of French fries he didn’t say so, but he did glance at him twice before fixing his eyes on the floor and snatching his laptop away.
“That’s private,” he said.
“Oh, boy,” said Matt. “Are we doing this now?” He discarded a soggy French fry and picked up another. “Please, I really don’t want to think that us fucking was a bad idea, so don’t get weird on me.”
Archer kept refusing to look at him; Matt felt more irritated than usual in his presence, which was saying something. Short-tempered, and suddenly feeling like he was about to crawl out of his skin, Matt stood, handful of French fries clenched in his fist, and snapped, “all right, you work out your own issues, I need to be alone for a while. Preferably forever, if you’re the only company I can have.”
He stalked off to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Moments later he was on the floor, a horrific pain slamming him down, arcing through his body, worse than any fever he’d ever had.
Oh, this had been a bad idea.
He kept quiet for as long as he could, but soon he couldn’t stop the pained noises, yowling as he writhed on the floor, the agony seeming to creep into his very skeleton and rip his bones apart.
Archer burst into the room, kneeling beside him, cradling him as he screamed, but not reaching for the phone, not calling for help. Matt wanted desperately to ask him what the hell he was doing, why wasn’t he calling an ambulance, but all that came out of his mouth was keening. Archer made little, soothing noises and held him through it, whatever it was, until finally the pain began to ebb a little and Matt let himself relax.
He felt even stranger than before, but at least it didn’t hurt. Reaching a hand up to wipe the sweat from his face, he felt - something - strange - 
Scrambling up to look at himself in the mirror, he shoved Archer away, and saw…
He wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing, actually.
His face was still his face, but at the same time it wasn’t; it was the face of a giant cat, like a lion, or a leopard maybe? His body, too, had changed, covered in a sleek dark fur, the same color of his hair. He felt strange standing on two legs. And what was that extra appendage he’d suddenly became aware of?
Oh, right. A tail.
Standing there in stunned silence, Matt became aware that Archer was looking at him, not with the sort of gaping surprise you’d except from someone who’d just witnessed you transform into some kind of were-cat, but with a wide-eyed smile. 
“What the fuck’s happening to me?” he demanded.
“It’s just like I thought,” Archer said quietly, almost reverently. “You’re like me.”
“What?”
“Oh. I’m sorry. Hang on.” He ran out of the room and returned with a small paper bag, the one he’d just brought inside earlier. From it, he removed a small bottle of pills and shook out two into his palm. “Here, take these.”
Matt looked at him suspiciously.
“They’ll change you back,” he said. “It’ll hurt, but it’ll last you for the rest of this cycle.”
“Cycle? What are you talking about?”
“Obviously you’ve got some version of the same mutated gene that I have. But different. I turn into a wolf.”
“You’re a werewolf.”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me.”
“Well, you never told me that you go into heat once a month.”
“I didn’t know that’s what it was!”
“Obviously your mutation is a lot more dormant than mine was. It took sex with another shape-shifter to bring out the transformation. This is fascinating.”
“Yeah,” said Matt, staring at his catlike face in the mirror. “Fascinating.” He looked at the pills in his hand and swallowed them, bracing himself for the agony.
It wasn’t as bad as before, and Archer held him through it again, until he felt human again. As soon as he could talk, he blurted out:
“How long have you been like this?”
Archer cleared his throat. “All my life, I suppose,” he said. “I first transformed when I was a teenager, but even before that I had a better sense of smell and hearing than anyone I knew.”
“And it’s like that all the time?”
“Yes, but they both get more acute during a full moon. Believe it or not, there are doctors who specialize in this sort of thing. But they’ve successfully kept it quiet. Most of them are shapeshifters themselves, and they have no interest in dealing with the sociological implications of outing us to the world.”
Matt considered the pattern of his life: solitary, neat, organized, and ruthless when he needed to be. And he’d always had pretty good night-vision, too. 
This was ridiculous. And yet, there it was.
“Are those the only…” Matt couldn’t believe he was about to say this. “…wolf-like qualities that you have?”
“Well.” Archer hesitated. “Earlier today…”
“The neck-biting,” Matt exclaimed. “Of course! It’s an alpha-male thing, isn’t it? With wolves?”
“With a lot of creatures,” he said. “Including me. But I’m not usually like that in bed. I don’t get rough. I can repress my instincts, with everyone but you, it seems.”
“It was just fine,” said Matt. “Trust me.”
Archer smiled.
They ate a very late second dinner together after that, in companionable silence. Matt felt languid and relaxed. The fever was still with him, but it was a dull ember in the back of his mind, and he knew he could get another treatment as soon as he needed it. 
“I’ll get you an appointment with my doctor,” Archer said around a mouthful of chow mein. “Get you your own prescription. One a day keeps the transformations away, and two if you miss a dose will get you back to human, right as rain.”
“You should do a commercial.”
“I’ve always thought so.”

-

“It’s fantastic.” Glenn was gushing into Matt’s ear as he attempted to juggle several bags of groceries, his phone, and maneuver his keys into the lock of his door. “I can’t believe it, he’s outdone himself this time. The themes of double lives, of the dark side of humanity, redemption, the twist ending…I was up all night, I couldn’t put it down.”
“That’s great, Glenn, but I -”
Just as he was about to drop everything in the hall, his door popped open.
“Hi,” Archer said.
“Hi,” said Matt. They hadn’t spoken in almost three weeks, since they’d submitted the manuscript.
Archer smiled. “I thought I’d drop by, you know, it’s getting to be…” he gestured vaguely at the waxing moon shining in through the window and made a little suggestive whistling noise, looking sheepish.
Matt looked at him, feeling a slow prickling on the back of his neck, a little tingle behind his balls. And for the first time, there wasn’t a hint of dread in his mind - only anticipation.
Archer met his eyes, and smiled.
“I ordered pizza.”
END :)

The story of Matt and Archer is continued in The Beast in Me.

Excerpt:

“Jack,” he said, slowly. “Do you want me to tie you up?”
“Well, yes,” he said. “For, you know, the safety. Of the villagers.”
“But,” said Matt, getting to his feet and walking towards Archer. “is there another reason?”
Archer cleared this throat. “I….”
“I’m not going to do it if you don’t tell me exactly what you want,” said Matt, close enough now that he could feel the heat radiating from Archer’s body. 
“Fine,” said Archer, fixing him with a burning gaze. “Tie me up and fuck me.”
Matt actually took a step back. “I…you mean…”
“You heard me.”
Archer’s chest was flushed, his nipples sharp, his cock beginning to bugle noticeably in his underwear. Matt went to the duffel bag, uncoiling the rope slowly, watching Archer out of the corner of his eye. 
He had never topped Archer during sex before, and certainly never while he was tied up. And certainly never just before a full moon. It was all too much, too many new experiences, all at once. But as soon as Matt allowed himself to think about what he was about to do, arousal thrummed through his body and there was no point in hesitating anymore.
“Kneel, please,” he said, and Archer dropped to the ground. He repeated the motions from last night, but this time letting himself appreciate how beautiful it was, how Archer’s skin looked, so delicate next to the rough rope. Once the chest harness was done Matt leaned in and kissed him, gently…

Other titles by Jessi Bond include:

Kidnapped by the Driver (M/f bdsm)
When a mobster's wife is kidnapped by her husband's sexy driver and held for ransom, the only thing she can think of to do is to seduce him. But the driver plays rough - is she prepared for everything he's going to deal out?  Warning - this story contains M/f bondage, rough sex, oral and anal, and a desperate encounter between two lonely people that you're not likely to forget!

The Business Trip (F/m bdsm)
Nina's one of the top salespeople in her industry, but when she's pitted against an equally talented rival for the same job, it's a no-holds-barred competition. At the big convention, Nina comes up with a great way to distract him - and "punish" him for trying to best her. But with emotions running high, they both get way more than they bargained for.

Office Party Orgy (m/f, m/f/m, group sex)
At the going-away party for her office crush, Nathan, Lily has a crazy idea - why not start an orgy? With help from an unlikely ally, she does exactly that, turning a simple office party into a night of wild passion that neither one of them will ever forget. Warning! This story contains group sex, m/f, m/f/m, and m/m/m action and is for the mature reader only!

About the Author:

Jessi Bond lives in upstate New York with her husband, two pets, and a filthy, filthy muse.

Twitter/Tumblr/Official Website

* * * * *
Howl
By
JJ Collins

Copyright © 2012 by JJ Collins

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"Bring him."
The beast was ravenous, snarling and snapping as its handlers forced it to its knees. Long claws scrabbled at the stone as the werewolf struggled. Its fur was mangled and matted, and its eyes blazed red as it took in the man seated in the chair before it.
Malcolm leaned forward in his chair and the torchlight glinted off the threads of silver in his hair. An angular face, high cheekbones and a hooked nose gave him the appearance of a hunting bird. The werewolf in front of him lunged and he did not flinch; instead, he smiled.
"So angry for one so young, and so defiant of your pack leader. Come, little one, can we not talk like adults?" 
The werewolf snarled and lunged again, held back only by the strength of his captors.
"As you wish, then."
Malcolm flicked his wrist, and a leather collar inlaid with silver was snapped about the were's neck. The werewolf howled, even as his muzzle began to shrink. The change was almost instantaneous -- fur was replaced by bronzed skin, a muscular torso, and the long legs of a young man just out of his teens. Malcolm knew he could not be more than twenty-five, and he smiled again as he remembered what that was like: all fire and no moderation.
The young man before him now wore a pair of ragged trousers, cinched to his waist by a leather belt. The collar fit tight to his neck, and the silver gleamed against the sun-browned flesh. He was thin, but in a lean, rangy way that most weres had -- a runner's build that belied incredible power. Muscle flexed under firm skin, and Malcolm took his time to appreciate it. The boy's eyes still blazed, and he bared his teeth as Malcolm met his gaze.
The elder were stood, walking around the boy. The weres holding him struggled as their captive wrenched on their hold, trying to get at their alpha. Malcolm gestured again, and more leather straps inlaid with silver were wrapped around the captive were's wrists, the cuffs attached to longer straps that looped through large, strong eyebolts in the ceiling. The guards yanked, and the boy's arms were pulled above his head until he was nearly standing on tiptoe. The boy dangled within reach of Malcolm's chair now, toes scraping the concrete floor.
The guards stepped back to the door, frowns on their faces and eyes blank as the alpha were strolled around the captive. He reached his chair and plucked a riding crop from the table next to it, twirling it in his hands before setting it down and picking up a quirt instead. It was more suitable for the beginning, he thought, running the falls across his palm before giving it an experimental snap in the air.
The boy did not flinch at the lick of the quirt so close to his ear. Malcolm nodded. His resolve was strong. It would be a chore to break him of his arrogance. Such were the burdens of an alpha.
"You stand accused of disobedience and a willful nature that cannot be ignored any longer, Omega." Malcolm tapped the quirt against his jean-clad thigh. "You ignored the orders from a beta, and nearly exposed us all to the humans we hide from."
The boy met his eyes with his unwavering dark brown ones. "I refuse the pack, and all it stands for!"
The boy spat on the floor, missing Malcolm's boots by inches. That wouldn't do at all. He snapped his fingers.
"Strip him."
The guards undid the belt, pulling his trousers free from slim hips and revealing a set of equally torn boxers. These, too, were removed, freeing a firm, toned buttocks and a sizeable cock. Malcolm strolled around again, tapping the quirt against his thigh. He paused behind the boy, regarding the muscular artistry of his back. It would be a shame to defile that, but it was his duty as alpha.
The first lash was light, the quirt licking out with a whispering of leather and striking the boy across his shoulders. The shoulders strained as the omega lunged forward, snarling.
"Disobedience will not be tolerated, Omega." Malcolm said, the quirt at his side again. He walked around and pushed the omega's head up with the quirt, the short wooden handle pressed against the soft flesh of his throat. "You will come to understand."
The omega snarled, straining again at the leather that held his arms above his head. Malcolm cracked him across the face with the back of his hand, sending the boy reeling. He spat blood, glaring up at Malcolm with hate filled eyes. He struggled to stand again, his toes brushing the floor as his balance wobbled.
Malcolm walked around again, his hand on the quirt tightening a fraction as he slashed a line across the omega's shoulders with the small whip. Blood trickled in a line down the sculpted muscle of the shoulder, dribbling across the swell of the were's ass. A second line of blood joined the first, and the omega hissed in pain, his arms bulging with the combined effort of keeping himself upright and the pain of the lashing.
Malcolm raised the omega's head again with the quirt. "Do you see them, Omega?"
The boy said nothing.
"They watch, because they know their place. They watch, and they will spread the news of your shame through the pack, and to all the packs beyond this."
The shadows shifted, and Malcolm knew they were muttering amongst themselves. They stuck to the shadows to avoid being noticed, but the pack would watch this justice being meted out, as was required. The boy's eyes flicked to the movements in the shadows, and his lip curled, exposing white canines.
"That's right, Omega. No matter where you go, you will always be my Omega now. No other pack will have you." Malcolm smoothed the were's hair from his face. The boy was beautiful, no doubt. A classical nose, a strong jaw marred with a few days' stubble, and those liquid brown eyes made for a pretty picture. "I don't think I would let you leave as it is anyway. How could I let such an untrained pup into the world? The responsibility falls to me to train you."
Malcolm placed the quirt back on the table and picked up the crop he had discarded earlier. He paced back around to the back of the boy again, trailing the crop across the boy's cock and balls, watching them tighten as he dragged the crop around to the curved swell of the omega's ass. He leaned over the omega's shoulder, his lips an inch from the shell of the ear. The omega shuddered, leaning his head away from the alpha.
"Besides, I would rather break you myself, Omega. Think of what I could do to you."
Malcolm stepped back, and brought the crop around in a whistling arc. The sting of it sent the boy reeling, his flesh red and raw in a thin strop across the curve of his ass. The omega snarled, dancing forward on tiptoe so close to the chair he almost knocked it over. The guards yanked the leather straps and set the boy swinging wild, feet off the ground. Malcolm waved his hand and the boy was lowered to his feet. He stood, panting with harsh breaths. He still met the alpha's gaze.
To Malcolm's amusement, the boy's cock was hardening, the flesh swelling as the alpha trailed the crop across it again. He gave a thin smile and turned to his table, his golden eyes flickering across numerous instruments. His eyes lighted on a cock ring, ivory inlaid with silver scrimshaw. He picked it up, twirling it in his fingers for a moment before turning to the boy.
"Should I break you completely, Omega?" His lips quirked in a grin at the defiant scowl on the boy's face. "Should I take you here, on this cold stone and claim you as mine?"
The boy was silent.
Malcolm rolled the cock ring between his palms, debating. "I could cut strops from your flesh, boy. I could do all this and more, and they will not stop me."
The boy held his gaze.
"You're defiant. I must say, this is liberating. I haven't had someone this belligerent put into my care before." Malcolm snapped his fingers, and the guards tied off the leather straps. "Leave us."
The shadows filed from the room, disappearing through secret doors with speed and silence. Soon, it was only alpha and omega, regarding each other across the space of concrete.
"Why?" The question was voiced from a throat raw from disuse. Malcolm tilted his head.
"Because you have disobeyed. What more reason should I need?"
"I mean, why send them away?" The younger man was still defiant, but had eased back without his audience.
"Because, Omega, I don't need them to break you." Malcolm smiled. "They have seen enough to spread the word. I could bring them back, make your humiliation total, but I suspect you would enjoy it far too much."
He crossed the hand's-breadth of space between them, a long fingered hand stroking down the boy's cock. Before the boy could protest, the ivory cock ring slid over the base of his cock, behind his balls, and snapped closed. The flesh swelled, heavy in his hand, even as the boy growled at him. He closed his hand around the shaft, stroking down with an almost gentle touch. 
Malcolm smiled. "The front is admirable, Omega, but we both know how this ends."
He stroked the boy's cock again, that same gentle stroke, and the omega arched into his hand, the cock hardening against his rough palm. His other hand slid to the firm ass, giving a rough squeeze on the reddened flesh. The boy whimpered, his eyes flickering away from Malcolm at last.
"There it is," he said. He gripped the boy's chin between thumb and forefinger and forced him to look at his alpha. "You must remember to obey."
"No."
Malcolm sighed. "As you wish it, Omega."
He walked behind the omega, and his hand lashed out, swatting the boy's ass hard across the red stripe of flesh. The boy yelped, leaning forward on his bindings. Malcolm struck again, his palm flat against the rounded swell of the boy's ass.
The omega strained against his bindings, his head hanging low as he flexed his shoulder muscles.
"Struggle all you like, boy. The restraints are lined with silver, and you know it." Malcolm reached in front of him and gripped the thickened cock. The omega whimpered when Malcolm gave him a languid pump. "There is no escape but submission to your betters."
The omega whined, his hips twitching as he thrust up into Malcolm's hand. Malcolm refused the boy friction, releasing his cock to throb in the empty air.
"Please," the omega said, his voice near a whimper.
"I didn't hear you, Omega." The hand whistled through the air again, striking the boy's taut ass again. The slap of flesh rang around the cement walls of the room, coupled by the great sob of air that the omega drew in. "Speak up."
"Please…alpha." The boy grit his teeth. Malcolm leaned closer, his breath playing over the omega's ear. The shudder was sweet, and Malcolm grinned.
"Better, but not quite. I think you should be rewarded for the submission you've shown so far, though." Malcolm reached around again, stroking the boy's thick cock with a lazy grip. "Let's see if we can't do better."
The omega shuddered under Malcolm's touch, his head lolling back on his shoulders as Malcolm worked his long fingers up and down, over the head of the boy's cock. The whimper turned into another full-body shudder as Malcolm gave a squeeze. Malcolm gave a soft hum of pleasure.
"You like that, don't you, Omega?" Malcolm's voice was velvet-smooth. "There is always a reward for submission, didn't you realize?"
Malcolm's fingers were slick with the omega's precum. He lifted them to his lips and cleaned them, the omega watching his every move through lowered lashes. He turned to his table, picking up a jar of lubricant nestled among the others. Two fingers dipped in, coated themselves with slick, and he walked around behind the omega again. His slicked fingers probed the puckered hole, and the boy moaned, his cock twitching at the sensation.
His smile widened further as one lube-coated finger slid in to the first knuckle, then the second. The boy moaned, a guttural sound that had Malcolm's cock twitching. It was the sound of submission, and it was what he had set out to do.
"Good, good." Malcolm's voice was a soothing hum. He pumped the finger in, then out as the omega trembled in his restraints. The boy's head was down, his legs spread as he shuddered. "I told you that submission had its rewards. Shall I reward you, Omega?"
"Yes, Alpha. Please…" The omega swayed, bucking back against Malcolm's hand. Malcolm added a second finger, stretching the boy's tight ass as he worked a second digit in. The sensation of the fingers inside him seemed to make the omega even more submissive, as the were whimpered against Malcolm's chest.
Malcolm unsnapped his jeans, and his cock was just as eager as his omega, springing out at a touch and lying heavy against his belly. He took himself in hand, stroking himself to readiness as his fingers came free with a small 'pop' from the omega. A few more strokes as he coated himself with lube, and he pressed himself against the boy's ass. The omega moaned, going up on tiptoe as the alpha slid in, the first inch as tight and hot as he thought it would be. Malcolm growled, his stubble brushing against the back of the omega's neck.
Inch by torturous inch, he slid more of his thick cock into the boy, his hands on slender hips to steady them. Soon he was hilted, his cock throbbing as it was squeezed by the tight channel. The omega moaned, wriggling his hips backwards. Malcolm nipped the bronzed shoulder before him, his tongue soothing the bite as the boy shuddered.
He withdrew, sliding back into the slick channel as he tightened his grip on the hips before him. The omega's shoulders strained again as Malcolm upped his pace, the restraints creaking as the alpha rewarded his omega. Malcolm's cock throbbed as he pounded into the boy's tight ass, his growls countering the whimpers as he fucked the other were into submission. He could feel his balls tightening as he came close to climax, and he slowed, then stopped altogether as he hilted himself into the omega. The whimper came again, and Malcolm peered around at the boy's cock, thick and throbbing as the cock ring prevented his release.
"It all depends on you, Omega," said Malcolm, his fingers caressing the other were's balls. "Submit, and I'll let you come."
The omega stood, panting. It seemed as though the pain had veered into pleasure, because he nodded.
"Say it, Omega. Your alpha can't hear you."
"Yes, Alpha. I submit." His voice was hoarse, rough and husky.
"Good boy." Malcolm undid the clasp on the cock ring, releasing the boy's throbbing cock from confinement. He stroked it once, and the motion, coupled with the subsequent snap of his hips, sent the omega over the edge. He came hard, his come dribbling over Malcolm's fist in thick spurts as the alpha thrust into him again. The omega stood, trembling as Malcolm began thrusting again, chasing his own release.
He wasn't far behind, his balls tightening as the omega moaned against him. His climax was sudden, and he buried his teeth in a broad shoulder as he came deep in the boy's ass. He bit hard, marking his territory as his omega collapsed against him.

The next pack meeting went well, Malcolm thought. No one said anything about last month's unpleasantness, and if anyone took notice of the lowly omega that kneeled by his chair, his leather collar inscribed with silver, they didn't say anything. Malcolm leaned back in his chair and crossed his booted feet at the ankle. The omega leaned into his hand, and he stroked the soft hair under his palm.
It was good to be the alpha, he had to admit.
END :)

If you liked this story, then do read the sequel, Collared.

Excerpt:

"Strip."
Adam rose again, unbuttoning the white shirt he wore with the shirr of silk.  He let it fall to the floor among murmurs of approval for his long, lean chest and bronzed skin tone. Unlike most omegas, he had not run to fat with pampering. The collar winked in the overhead light as he unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down slender hips and his long, muscular legs. He stepped out of them, clad now only in cotton boxers. His body was on display for all to see, and he felt a jolt of arousal like none he had ever felt before. This was new, and his cock got harder by the second as he stood tall before Malik, his rangy, fit body on display for all.
"Strip means all your clothing, Omega," Malik snapped, unimpressed with Adam's body.
Adam hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband of his boxers and slid them down, freeing his hardening cock from confinement. Another appreciative murmur came from the audience of alphas and sent a pulse of arousal straight to his groin. He enjoyed being on display, but it was usually for his alpha's pleasure alone. This was something different.
Malik stood and paced around him. Adam knew his original thought of werecat was correct when he noticed the alpha walking on the balls of his feet. He kept his eyes lowered and his posture neutral, to avoid confrontation.
"He is trained for service, Malcolm?" Malik asked as his eyes narrowed, flickering across Adam's body. Adam followed Malik's movements under lowered lids, and forced himself to relax.
"He is trained for many things, Malik," said Malcolm. "He will please, I guarantee it."
Malik's gaze returned to Adam, and his brow furrowed as he moved back to his cushion and sat.
"Come here, Omega." The command was enough to send him to his belly amongst his discarded clothing. He crawled forward, his belly and cock inches from the ground as he slunk in hands and knees toward the alpha werecat. He pressed his forehead to the ornate pattern in the carpet at Malik's feet. He waited for his next command, feeling the murmurs of the crowd wash over his bare skin. From what they had seen so far, they were impressed.
Malik, however, was not. A foot clad in a soft leather boot forced itself under his chin, lifting his head so that the werecat could look him over. Dark golden eyes narrowed as he looked at the omega for only a moment before he was released. Adam knew Malik was looking for a mistake, and he lowered his eyes to the carpet and pressed his body to the plush of the carpet beneath him.
Malik snapped his fingers again, and Adam heard the wheels of a small cart as it rolled forward. Malik and another spoke in low voices before Malik's voice rang out like a whiplash.
"Look at me, Omega."
Adam raised his eyes. He saw that the small cart contained an assortment of whips and lashes. Malik held a cane in his hands, testing the spring. He fixed Adam with a dark look.
"Have you ever been caned, Omega?"
Adam shook his head.
"You may speak."
"I've never been caned, Alpha." He swallowed, a wary eye on the slender cane in Malik's swarthy hands.
"His education is lacking, Malcolm," said Malik. "What is the phrase the humans are so fond of using, especially the Christians?"
"Spare the rod," supplied one of the alphas in the crowd.
"Ah yes," Malik said and smiled. "Spare the rod and spoil the child, yes?"
Malcolm said nothing.
"Stand, Omega, and put your back to me."
Adam rose to his feet and turned away as instructed. He heard the swish of silk behind him, and fixed his eyes on Malcolm. His alpha's golden eyes glittered like burnished coin in the light, and they were what he focused on as he heard the cane whistle through the air and felt it strike his shoulders. He could feel the blood start a thin trickle down his back. He clamped his teeth around his tongue to keep from crying out, and could taste copper like a mouthful of pennies. He could smell it in the air as Malik brought the cane back for another swing at his unprotected back.

Other titles by JJ Collins include:

Caged
Malcolm and Adam return in the third story of The Canticle of Punishment. When a werebear alpha from a rival clan turns to Malcolm to train an unruly omega, the alpha werewolf relies on Adam to show Thomas the werebear what it means to be a true omega. Will Thomas refuse to break?

Greed
Peter Shilling is the head of a multimillion dollar corporation. When he goes to his private accountant for a little help cooking the books, he's met with a counter-offer -- his soul for a clean record and a bailout that would make the government jealous. He just has to scratch Charlie's back in return -- and that means he owes Charlie Black his soul.

My Best Friend Danny
John and his best friend Danny have been roommates since they both graduated college. One evening, Danny admits that he's bisexual, a fact that throws John into a tailspin of lust after he wakes up from a steamy dream involving his best friend. Will John act on his desires? Find out in this sizzling erotic short story by JJ Collins.

About the Author

A former librarian, JJ Collins became tired of shelving others' books and decided to write her own. Specializing in period smut, JJ is dedicated to her craft, and to her fans.

Find more from JJ Collins at: http://jjcollinswriting.tumblr.com
Twitter: @jj_writes

* * * * *
Shared by Vampires
By
Layla Cole

Copyright © 2012 by Layla Cole

* * * * *

Rose woke up early that day, dazed and a little disoriented. Eric and Jonathan, her new masters, were curled around her, their legs thrown carelessly over her own. If it weren't for the scent of sex that still lingered in the air and the way her ass stung, she might have thought she was dreaming. And of course, there was the bite mark on her wrist. She rubbed the matching mark on her neck absently, wondering again at what a strange turn her life had taken.
Rose closed her eyes and tried to get her bearings. Eric and Jonathan were vampires. She'd agreed to become a Blood Donor for them because she needed the money--at least, her family did--but there was a catch: Eric and Jonathan were Doms who were looking for someone to share their bed and submit to them completely. Last night, in a trial of sorts, she'd sucked them off, been spanked, and come harder than she ever had before when they fed from her. Until then, Rose had doubted her ability or desire to be a submissive, but not anymore. For a moment, Rose thought of Jonathan's rumbling voice issuing commands and the way Eric's eyes had devoured her while she sucked his cock, and she shivered. She'd loved every minute of it and couldn't wait to do more…
Vampires couldn't go out in the daylight, but would they sleep all day? Rose bit her lip, wishing she knew more about them. If only she'd done a little more research before she accepted the job…Cautiously extricating herself from between the two men, she attempted to slip out of bed. 
She jumped as Eric's hand shot out and pulled her back against his chest. "Leaving?" His voice was a sleepy murmur that rumbled through her chest.
"It's morning--sir," she added quickly, hoping he wouldn't notice her lapse. Clearing her throat, she said, "I thought you might sleep all day…?"
Her laughed softly. "I won't keep you, sweetheart." He nibbled at her neck, his fangs scraping across the mark he'd made just a few hours go. "Jon and I left you some instructions on the dresser. I just want to make sure you see them." Eric released her and swatted her ass playfully, making her jump. "Enjoy your free time," he said with a yawn. "We'll need you well rested tonight."
As his voice trailed off, Eric's eyes fluttered shut and his breathing slowed. I wonder how they can breathe, Rose wondered, then filed that question away for later. She slipped off the bed and walked over to the dresser, shivering a little as the cold air hit her naked body. The instructions were exactly where Eric had said they'd be. She eyed them nervously, wondering what they had in store for her. There wasn't much there--barely a page, in fact, all written carefully in neat handwriting. Jonathan's, probably; of the two, he seemed to be the most dominant.
It didn't seem to be too bad, however. Her room was next to theirs, apparently; she was to put on exactly what they'd laid out for her, and no more. They expected her to remain close by today, since they hadn't had a chance to introduce her to the staff or show her around. Fair enough, though she hoped there would be a TV or some books or something in her room…
No masturbating. She frowned at the reminder of their ownership. How would they know? A part of her wanted to rebel, but at the same time she wanted them to be pleased with her. Rose sighed.
Sign the contract. Of course--she'd nearly forgotten. It felt as though she already belonged to Eric and Jonathan, but it wasn't official yet.
Get some rest if you can and come back here this evening at six. 
She flipped the page over, but there was nothing else. Fine. Seemed simple enough. Stay close, rest up, wear what they want me to, sign the contract, be back at six. 
When she saw what the two vampires wanted her to wear, however, she realized that nothing was as easy as it seemed. There were no clothes on the bed--in fact, there was nothing but a silver choker--no, a collar--and padded cuffs that she assumed would go around her wrists and ankles. Would they really expect her to walk around naked all the time? Probably, she thought ruefully, remembering that she'd worn nothing but a coat when she met them the day before. She put on the collar with trembling hands, then the cuffs. Strangely, the thought of being marked as their possession so visibly made her ache with need. The metal of the collar lay cold against her skin, a constant reminder of her current status. 
There was something else on the bed, she realized. A scrap of paper that she hadn't noticed at first lay on the bed, barely covering the object beneath. A butt plug, she realized. She swallowed hard. What was she supposed to do with it? Rose read the note that Eric had written with some trepidation. She'd never used a butt plug--in fact, she was about as inexperienced as a girl could be. 
All the note said was: Bring this with you tonight. -Eric. She closed her eyes and wondered what they had in store. All she knew was that it was going to be a really long day.

***
Rose showed up promptly at six and kneeled on the floor as she'd been taught. As instructed, she'd brought the plug. She turned it over in her hands, staring at the flared base. The thought of it in her ass was a little disconcerting, but after thinking about it all day she was starting to get really turned on.
A sudden rush of air and the rich scent of her vampires were the only warnings she had before she was lifted off her feet and placed on the bed. Rose had the briefest impression of a male shoulder under hers before she landed on her back. "Hello," she said breathlessly as she looked up to meet Eric and Jonathan's intense stares, one green, the other dark. Though the two vampires were fully clothed still, they were both clearly aroused, their erections pressing against the front of their pants. Eric's hair was a little mussed, leading her to wonder what they'd been doing before she arrived… 
"I brought--this." She held up the plug, blushing. Good thing she'd been holding on to it so tightly or it would have been thrown across the room when they picked her up.
"Good evening," Jonathan said hoarsely before claiming her mouth with his own. His kiss was savage, as though he hadn't seen her in days instead of mere hours. She opened her mouth to let him in, enjoying the taste of him, like a rich summer day. "We've been waiting impatiently," he said when he finally let her up for air.
Rose opened her mouth to ask if she was late, but Eric cut her off. "You're on time," he said with a wry smile. "He's just being a bastard because neither of us can wait to get our hands on you again." He eyed the plug and smiled widely. Damn, but his smile could really light up a room. "I'm glad you can follow directions."
He nibbled her ear, trailed kisses along her throat before finally taking her lips far more gently than Jonathan had. When at last he broke the kiss, it was with such obvious reluctance that Rose melted. "We've got quite an evening planned and I'd like to get started." He turned to Jonathan and grinned. "Jon does too, I'm sure."
The man in question was too busy reacquainting himself with her body to answer. Rose moaned as he nibbled at the inside of her thigh. "What--what are you planning, sir?" she asked weakly.
Eric shrugged off his shirt in an easy motion that made her mouth water and said, "Eventually we're going to fuck you. Together." Rose's eyes widened and her breath quickened as she tried to process what he said. Both of them? At once? She'd expected it, but not quite so soon. Some of her nervousness must have shown in her face, she realized when Jon smiled at her reassuringly.
"We'll work up to it, pet," he said. "For now, just relax and do as we tell you." His fangs grazed the outside of her pussy, drawing forth a surprised gasp. "Put your arms over your head and spread your legs a little wider," he commanded.
Rose lifted her arms above her head tentatively and let Jon push her legs outward until she was completely exposed to his gaze. It took all she had to suppress the instinctive urge to close her legs as he stared at her pussy. Eric fastened the wrist cuffs she was wearing to a fine chain on the headboard, then similarly restrained her legs so she was spread-eagled in front of them. So she had been right about the cuffs they'd made her wear after all…She flexed her arms experimentally and found she could only move a few inches from the headboard. 
"Trust us," Eric whispered. "Stay still and let Jon work on you."
"What about you, sir?"
"Later," he said.
Jonathan looked up at their little sub as he stretched out between her legs. As much as it killed him to go so slowly, he would have to be gentle. He had to make this feel good so she'd trust him later, when he was taking her ass for the first time. The jeans he was wearing chafed at his swollen cock, but he kept them on as a psychological barrier of sorts. God, but he wanted to fuck her senseless. All in good time, he told himself.
Instead, he traced the outside of her wet cunt with his fingers and inhaled the scent of aroused woman that poured off of her. He moved in closer, grazing her clit, then returned to his slow, controlled exploration of her slick folds. She whimpered and thrust her hips at him as if begging for more.
"You can come this time," he said, "but I expect you to hold still. Move and I stop." Eric sat beside her and laved a swollen nipple with his tongue. Rose arched into his touch with a wordless plea and, true to Jonathan's word, both men stopped. "I'm serious, pet," Jonathan said. 
Slowly, she forced her body to relax until the only sign of her tension was the way her hands fisted above her head. 
She needed every ounce of control she had when Jonathan's mouth descended on her throbbing clit. His tongue flicked the sensitive bundle of nerves once, twice, before drifting downward. Groaning, she struggled to hold still. His mouth was circling back, teasing, tormenting, and oh she needed to come so badly she felt like she might die if she didn't. His tongue worked at her clit again and with Eric still teasing her breasts, it was all too much for her to handle.
With a wail, she came apart, pleasure taking over until she wasn't aware of anything but her climax. Her hands clutched at the pillows behind her as if they were a lifeline until she went limp, wrapped up in the afterglow of her release.
It wasn't until the pillows were replaced with Eric's warmth that she came back to full awareness. "Jon is going to take you now," he murmured. "Keep your eyes open. He wants you to watch him as he fucks you." He then released her wrists and cradled her in his lap, propping her up so she could see what Jon was doing.
Oh, what a view it was. The dark-haired vampire was unzipping his jeans and sliding them slowly down his hips. He was already bare from the waist up, his muscular chest and chiseled abs on full display. Rose's mouth went dry as she let her eyes wander over his body until her gaze landed on his rock-hard cock, now free of its confinement. A drop of pre-come glistened at the tip and Rose licked her lips, wishing she could taste it. And then, in a motion too fast for her to see, he was stretched out above her, his mouth close enough to kiss, his cock nestled in between her thighs. Keeping his eyes on her, Jonathan slowly reached back and guided himself into her slick entrance.
Rose bit her lip and whimpered softly as her pussy stretched around Jon's thick dick. It wasn't painful like she'd expected, but he was a big man. He eased in slowly but surely, watching her face with an intensity that her made her all warm and wet and shivery. 
"That's the worst of it," he said once he was all the way in. Rose let out a soft sigh. There'd only been an instant of pain and then she'd felt nothing but pleasure as he filled her. Eric murmured soft words of encouragement in her ear as she waited for Jonathan to fuck her in earnest. His body tensed as he held still, waiting for her to adjust. Realizing that he was waiting for her, she nodded. He bit back a groan as he pulled out of her, then thrust back in again, harder and faster than the first time.
She watched, fascinated, as Jonathan's cock slid in and out. The sight was intensely erotic, so much more than she'd ever have guessed. She moaned and lifted her hips to meet his, unable to control herself. Luckily, Jonathan didn't seem to care whether she moved anymore.
As Rose's pussy clenched around him, Jonathan stifled a groan. His self-control was fading fast. His eyes met Eric's. She feels so good. So tight…
Fuck you. I'm about to explode over here, Eric thought back. 
Well, don't let that happen, Jonathan thought as he thrust harder into Rose. Her soft moans and sighs were driving him cray. Ah, he loved this. The feel of a woman underneath him, surrounding him, the slap of flesh against flesh, the way the smell of her arousal mixed with his own--he loved it all. Fuck, I'm not going to last long. 
"Rose," he groaned, his voice husky, "come for me…" It was almost a plea, but her body reacted as if he'd spoken more forcefully. She writhed underneath him and let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a scream as she came.
The way her pussy rippled around him was all he needed to go over. With a primal roar, he let himself go. "Fuck, Rose!" Jonathan's come spurted in hot jets inside Rose's pussy and his cock jerked as his orgasm tore through him with all the force of a hurricane. Finally, he was spent. He lowered himself down slowly, satisfied--for now at least. "Beautiful," he murmured into Rose's shoulder.
After a minute, he pulled out and rolled over. He could have stayed in her warmth forever, but they needed to eat at some point. He shot a meaningful look at Eric as he went to grab a washcloth for Rose. He figured she might appreciate being taken care of. Don't forget the plug, Eric.
Yes, master. Eric's mouth twitched. He shifted out from underneath Rose to release her legs. "Doing ok, sweetheart?"
"Mmmm," she murmured. Her lips curved up in a satisfied smile.
"I'll take that as a yes then…" Eric took the warm cloth Jonathan had brought and cleaned Rose up carefully, then gathered her up in his arms. "Don't check out, sweetie. This is only the beginning," he reminded her. "We still need to stretch you out for later."
"The plug, sir?" she asked softly. Her body, pliant against his until that moment, suddenly tensed.
"Yes, the plug. It won't be so bad. You might even like it." Eric kissed the top of her head. "Now get on your hands and knees for me." He held out a hand, waiting for Jonathan to hand him the plug and some lube, then laid a hand on her back. "This might feel uncomfortable but I need you to relax and push out against it, ok?" Eric poured a generous amount of lube into his hands, then made sure her tight ass was well lubricated before pressing the plug against her asshole. She tensed up but didn't fight as he slowly slid the plug in, though her hands grabbed at the blankets and she held her breath until he passed the tight ring of muscle at the entrance. Finally, the plug slid in until only the flared base was visible.
"All done," he told her.
Rose shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "It burns a little."
"It'll get better." Eric cupped his aching cock and groaned. She looked so hot like that and he couldn't even enjoy her yet. Damn Jonathan. I should never have made that bet.
"I brought you some clothes," Jonathan said suddenly. "Put these on and then we'll go to dinner." Rose took the dress and panties he handed her, wondering how the hell she was going to make it through a meal with the butt plug inside her.
***
By the time dinner was over, Rose was restless, needy. Whenever she shifted in her seat, the butt plug moved inside her, making dinner a rather uncomfortable affair. The worst part was that she wasn't even sure if she wanted the plug out or if she wanted just a little more friction. She could come like this, maybe.
Finally, Jonathan leaned over. It was the first time he'd spoken to her since dinner started. "Go back to the room, pet," he said. "Wait for us on the bed. We have some business to discuss here." 
"Yes, Master Jon," she said. Walking back to their quarters--even though it wasn't very far--was an exercise in frustration. She still wasn't used to having her ass filled and every step brought new sensations. At one point, she had to stop in the hallway and lean against the wall to catch her breath.
When she finally reached her destination, stripped down, and hopped up on the bed, Rose was breathless with desire and anticipation. Playtime was about to begin and suddenly she was no longer nervous, but excited. Tonight they'd take her--together. Her clit ached and she wanted to touch herself so, so badly…Can't, she reminded herself. They hadn't given her permission yet. But oh god, she wanted to.
Rose frowned as she lay on the bed. How would they want her? Displayed to maximum affect? Trembling with desire, Rose got on her hands and knees, legs spread so her masters would be able to see both her wet pussy and the plug in her ass. And then she waited. 
Eric and Jon were naked by the time they entered the room. In a flash, they were on the bed with Rose, Jonathan behind her, Eric in front. Oh god. Rose swallowed and took in the sight and feel of them. She'd thought that maybe her mind had played tricks on her earlier, but no--they really were that big. And muscular. And--oh god, they were both going to fuck her at the same time. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Jonathan kneeled behind her for a moment, drinking in the view. In this position, her pussy beckoned and the plug was clearly visible. Her ran a hand along her back and sent an image of her to Eric, complete with the moisture slowly dripping down her thighs. Look at how wet she is. We haven't even started yet. He groaned. His cock was already painfully hard.
Of course she's wet. She's been wearing a plug for a while now. Eric tilted Rose's head up. "Open your eyes, Rose. I want you to look at me while I fuck your mouth."
Her eyes fluttered open. "Yes, sir," she said in a breathy voice.
"Open up," Eric commanded. He groaned as she obeyed and the head of his swollen cock slid past her lips. She sucked at him hungrily, her eyes glazed with passion. Eric gripped her head tightly and angled it back so he could slide down her throat. "You like this, don't you?" She moaned in response, making Eric gasp as the vibrations traveled through his dick. Jonathan--while she's distracted, why not get to work on that ass? Or are you just going to sit and watch?
Jonathan smiled as he stroked his prick. I happen to like watching. The scene before him was too captivating to miss. Eric did have a point, though. He leaned forward and laid a hand on Rose's shoulder. "The plug is coming out now," he whispered. "You'll feel a little empty…but not for long." At least, not if he had anything to say about it. Hopefully Eric would be able to last. He eyed the blond vampire with amusement. He'd told Eric not to come until they were both inside her. If he didn't make it, Jonathan got to own him for a night. Not going to make it, are you?
Fuck. Eric grabbed the base of his cock desperately to keep from exploding and pulled out of Rose's eager mouth. Meanwhile, Jonathan was working the plug slowly out of her ass. It slid out finally with a soft pop, leaving Rose aching for more.
"No one's fucked your ass before, have they?" Jonathan's voice in her ear was practically a purr. Rose's dripping pussy spasmed eagerly as she imagined Jonathan's cock in that forbidden place. How would it feel compared to the plug? She moaned, then remembered that she'd been asked a question.
"No, never," she said, gasping as Eric started playing with her nipples. "Not anywhere before you, sir." She was aching with need and Eric was making it worse. Or was that better? Maybe it's all relative, she thought as she writhed against his touch.
Jonathan was at her back, pouring lube in between her cheeks. She shivered at the cold, then moaned again as he pressed a finger against her entrance. "Do you want me to fuck your ass, pet? Slide my cock inside while Eric takes your pussy?"
She couldn't think straight, not with Jon's finger inside her and Eric teasing her breasts. After having the plug stretch her, Jon's finger slid in more easily than she expected, but she still felt invaded, restless. And she wanted more. Please give me more. Jonathan reached underneath her with his free hand to drag a finger through her wet folds. Rose barely recognized the breathy little gasps that came out of her mouth as her own. What the hell were these men doing to her? And they hadn't even started fucking her yet…
"You like that idea, don't you?" He lifted his finger, coated with her juices, up to her mouth. "Taste," he said, tapping her lips lightly. Obediently, she sucked his finger inside. He tasted--no, it was her own juices she was tasting--tangy. Musky. Was that really what she tasted like? The idea of licking her own juices made her even wetter.
Jonathan withdrew his finger and returned to her pussy, circling her clit until she was begging for more, but not giving her the relief she needed so badly.
Eric put a finger under her chin to call her attention to him again. "I want to hear you say it," he said. "Beg Jonathan to fuck your ass."
"Please," she gasped, "please, Master Jon, fuck my--oh!" She was so close to coming that it was hard to concentrate. Pleasure radiated outward from her pussy in waves that just kept cresting higher, pushing her ever closer to the brink. With an effort that made her legs shake, she fought to keep from coming. "Please fuck my ass," she said with a moan.
"Good girl," Eric said, stroking her face. God, this girl was hot. They'd never had a sub like this--so willing and eager to please despite her inexperience. He let some of the pride and approval he felt color his voice.
Her face was flushed and those light green eyes were clouded over with arousal. She's trying so hard not to come. Poor thing, he thought, amused. He couldn't wait to sink into her pussy and feel her clench around his cock as she came. If he could hold out that long. Her greedy little mouth had nearly done him in. At least I haven't lost the bet yet, he thought to himself.
Jonathan stopped teasing Rose and pulled his fingers away just as she was about to give in to the fire raging inside her. After a moment the need to climax faded to a dull ache, thankfully. "I'm about to give you what you wanted," he said. "Remember--hold still and push out when I slide in. That should make it easier."
Rose groaned as the head of Jonathan's cock pushed its way into her ass. It was already so much bigger than the butt plug and he was barely in. Jonathan's hands were on her hips, keeping her from squirming away like she wanted to. Or did she want more? She felt as though she were being pulled in so many different directions…
As Jonathan slid into her, she buried her head in the blankets next to Eric's thigh and hissed through her teeth. It burned, it stretched, it was so damn uncomfortable, but beneath all that she could feel the stirrings of pleasure.
Husky with need, Jon said, "Tell me how you're doing, pet. Tell me if I'm hurting you."
"It hurts," she said, "but it'll get better. Won't it?" 
Careful with her, Jon, Eric thought. Jonathan clenched his jaw in irritation. I know what I'm doing. Even if my cock is about to burst, I'm not going to lose control. Her ass was resisting but he knew that in a minute he'd be seated deep inside her, those muscles massaging his cock as he thrust into her. She's not some delicate little flower. Otherwise she'd have run already. Besides, I've fucked her, spanked her, and now you want me to be careful? "Almost in," he said aloud.
Rose nodded. Her hands grabbed at the blankets convulsively and she whimpered at the odd combination of pleasure and pain. Then Jonathan slipped past the tight ring of muscle in her ass and was buried all the way inside her. She sucked in a deep breath through her nose, trying to get used to having her ass filled with Jonathan's large cock.
"Shh," he said, massaging her back. "I'm just going to stay like this for a minute."
Slowly the burning faded away, leaving pleasure and the barest hint of pain in its wake. "I'm ready, sir," she said, pleased with the steadiness of her voice. Relax, she told herself. They won't hurt me any more than I can take. Tiny shocks of pleasure fired along nerves that had never been touched as Jonathan slowly pulled out. She took a deep breath, then tensed up again when Eric moved under her, his erect dick poking into her abdomen.
"I did say we were both going to fuck you earlier, didn't I?" His warm voice whispering into her ear sent shivers down her spine. Jonathan pushed down on her shoulders, forcing her down onto Eric's cock. As she took Eric into her sopping wet pussy, he teased her clit, making her squirm against him. By the time he was all the way in, they were panting. Jonathan slid back into her ass, filling her up in a way she'd never before experienced.
"Jesus, you're so fucking tight." Eric groaned. "So hot, oh god. I want to fuck you so hard right now…"
"I thought you wanted to be gentle?" Rose looked back to see Jonathan arch an eyebrow. He smiled at her, but he looked strained. Like he was on the verge of losing control. For that matter, so was she. Having two cocks in her was almost too much to handle.
"I don't want to hurt you Rose, but you should know this is about as gentle as it gets." Despite his words, Eric cupped her cheek tenderly. "Just relax, sweetheart." He pulled her down on top of him, letting her rest for a moment. She hadn't realized until just then how tired her arms were getting, so she relaxed against his chest with relief. "There. Just let go and let us fuck you." 
Rose moaned as Eric slid out of her. Her pussy was so tight that it felt like Eric's cock dragged along every nerve. As Eric pulled out, Jonathan thrust into her ass, so she was constantly filled.
Now that they knew she could handle it, they weren't as careful. Eric grunted as he thrust in and out, while behind her Jonathan's groans told her he was close to coming.
There were no words for the heady mixture of pleasure and pain that tore through Rose's body. It was beyond ecstasy, beyond anything she'd ever imagined. "Please," she begged, "please give me more…" Pleas and moans tumbled from her lips without any conscious effort; in fact, she was hardly aware of what she was saying. She was being fucked by two powerful vampires--more than that, they were laying claim to her, making sure she'd never forget them. It was a heady feeling to be so desired.
"I want to see you come around my cock," Jonathan grunted in between thrusts. "Now!"
It was as if his words were just what she needed to fall over the edge. She screamed wordlessly into Eric's shoulder as she came. Her body was flying apart, the pleasure shooting outward from her pussy overwhelming her until she was shaking with the force of her orgasm.
Her pussy clenched hard around the cocks that filled her, the muscles rippling in time with her climax. As Rose drifted slowly back down to earth, she realized that she was pulling Eric and Jonathan with her. Eric's hands, normally gentle, dug into her shoulders so hard she'd probably have bruises as his dick jerked within her.
With a low groan, Jonathan joined them, his come spilling in her ass. "Ahh, fuck" he muttered as he hung on for dear life. At last, he sagged against her and pulled away.
"That was…" Rose searched for words. "Incredible? Amazing? I don't--"
Eric smiled and closed his eyes. "I know." 
Rose rolled away, feeling somewhat bereft without his cock inside her. Sighing in contentment, she closed her eyes. She'd pay for this tomorrow no doubt--she was already a little tender--but it was so worth it. Her eyes flew open again when Jonathan pressed a warm cloth against her tender skin.
"I always get stuck with the cleanup," he grumbled, but the look in his eyes told her that maybe he didn't mind so much. His touch was gentle as he wiped away the come that spilled down her thighs.
"Master Jon?" 
"Yes?"
"Am I ever going to see the rest of the house?" 
He grinned at her. "If we ever get out of bed, yes. We still have to show you our little playroom. And," he said as he curled up next to her, "we have a party coming up soon. I'd like to show you off."
"I have plans for that party, too," Eric mumbled into her hair. "Revenge…"
"Ignore him, Rose. Just rest."
"Ok," she murmured and drifted off into the sweet oblivion of sleep.
END :)

If you liked this story, you might also like Entertaining Vampires.
When vampire Doms Jonathan and Eric throw a party, they plan to make it a night to remember. Their submissive, Rose, soon finds herself the center of attention as her masters share her with their friends. Will Rose embrace her exhibitionist side if it means pleasing her vampires? Warning: contains explicit descriptions of oral sex, anal sex, and a gang bang with four hunky vampires!

Excerpt:

Two weeks of feverish preparation and training weren’t nearly enough to prepare Rose for Jonathan and Eric’s party. After all, she hadn’t been their submissive for long—only a month, now—and vampires expected a great deal of their servants. She knelt on a cushion in between her two Doms as they laughed and greeted their friends. Her heart hammered in her chest as she watched the party-goers from underneath her lashes, wondering what she would be expected to do tonight.

Eric had brought out some of the equipment from the dungeon for the party, so the ballroom looked more like a giant playroom tonight. Across from her, a vampire whipped his sub enthusiastically; while she had no doubt the man enjoyed it, judging by his raging erection, she couldn’t help wincing every time she heard the crack of the whip. Vampires and their servants lounged and talked in her corner of the room, but elsewhere, debauchery reigned. Rose watched the orgy and bit her lip.
Here, at least she was safe. For now. As long as her two vampires surrounded her, they wouldn’t let anything or anyone touch her. Or would they? Perhaps they’d offer her to one of their friends. They could do that; it was in her contract and she hadn’t thought to argue because she’d never thought it would happen. But now, as she watched a young man wearing a collar being given to a group of vampires, she wondered if ignoring that particular clause had been the best idea.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Eric caressed her hair gently, toying with the long silken strands as he stared down at Rose. Sometimes, like now, he wished that he had the same sort of telepathic bond with her that he shared with Jonathan. At least then he would know what, exactly, was making her tremble and look down at the floor. I think our little party is making her nervous, Jon, he thought.

She just doesn’t know what to expect, the dark-haired vampire replied. At the same time, Rose said, “Will you—will you share me with other men, sir?” Her light green eyes were wide as she turned to address him. “The other vampires here seem to do that often…” Her voice trailed off uncertainly.

“I’m still deciding,” he said. Well, Jon? Eric let his hands drift downward, teasing her bare breasts until she shivered and started to squirm. “For now, I have other things on my mind.” For one, playing with Rose was giving him the hard-on from hell and since their sub was always eager and willing to please them…

Other titles by Layla Cole include:

Serving Vampires
When Rose agrees to serve vampires Eric and Jonathan, she has no idea that they will demand more from her than just her body. Both vampires are Dominants, used to getting their way. Will she be able to give them the submission they so crave? Warning: For adults only. Contains explicit descriptions of oral sex and spanking.

Dreaming of the Wolf
Ian's spent months dreaming of the mysterious werewolf he loved and lost a year before. When the stranger turns out to be his old college friend Drew, Ian has the chance to make his dreams come true. Warning: contains explicit descriptions of oral sex, anal sex, and rimming. 

Taken by the Alpha
When Nathaniel's car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, he's forced to knock on a stranger's door to ask for help. When the stranger turns out to be the pack Alpha, Chris, the last thing he expects is for the sexy werewolf to take an interest in him. Soon, Nathaniel ends up bound, teased, tormented, and begging for more!

About the Author

Layla Cole is a student by day and an erotica author by night. She lives with her boyfriend of four years and a few nutty roommates. She enjoys reading fiction of all kinds and hopes to share her sensual fantasies with her readers. Please don't hesitate to share any comments or criticisms by contacting Layla online.

Website: http://laylacolewrites.tumblr.com
Twitter: @LaylaColeWrites

* * * * *
Paradise
By
Lorelai Phoenix

Copyright © 2012 by Lorelai Phoenix

* * * * *

There are no stars here. The moon travels alone, making its path across the sky night after night, the only light on a desolate plane. Sometimes, when I'm looking up from my balcony, I miss the stars from earth, the friendly twinkling of distant suns like fireflies in paradise.
Paradise. What a funny word. My home is beautiful as sin, a dark world of tangling loyalties and corruption constantly threatening to overthrow the delicate balance my lord has worked so hard to maintain, and yet it is not paradise. Indeed, it is the opposite, the underworld, the home of souls who have been condemned by a corrupt and vindictive god.
Does he even exist? The eons since I fell from grace have eroded my memory, erasing all but the faintest outlines of an unremarkable world. I remember a man with silvery grey hair and robes of pure white who seemed almost like a father for a time, but he never loved me. Was he the Father? If he was, I suppose I must have been his greatest disappointment.
He created me without knowledge, but expected me to know all. How to keep Adam with me, to please the man he created before me. But I knew nothing of the carnal desires I would be expected to sate, and was refused even a taste of that knowledge before I was to experience it for myself. He wanted me to be pure. What a foolish notion.
I was bathing in the river when I spotted him, an unfamiliar light in his usually kind eyes. They burned with some emotion I’d never before seen, and he came after me with the desperation of a man starved, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me to him in a bruising embrace. His mouth was hard on mine, demanding. I tried to respond, but he was lost to his own impatience, grabbing me up from the shallow water and dumping me on the ground in his haste to taste my body. 
His mouth returned to mine, hot and fierce once again as his hands explored my skin. His urgency and the torrent of feelings it roused within me were terrifying. 
“Please stop, Adam.” I begged, tears in my eyes as I tried to wriggle free of his tightening grasp.
“Quiet, woman.” He said harshly, groping a tender breast with too much force, bruising my skin. Never before had I wished to cover my skin, but as his abuses continued, I wished more and more for some barrier against his harsh attentions. 
I continued my struggles, the hard earth under my back scratching and scraping as I futilely struggled for escape. His hands moved lover, scraping over my stomach and down until they rested on my thighs, playing lightly across the skin before he forced them between my legs, wrenching them apart to expose the most secret part of me.
I screamed. He paid no mind, going about his business until I finally found the strength to kick free of his grasp.
I ran. Adam pursued me, calling upon a band of angels to aid him in my capture. I am not sure how long I evaded them, but by the time I collapsed in desperate exhaustion, unable to push myself farther, I was injured from the falls I'd taken in my flight. In a rage, Adam grabbed me by the hair, dragging me across the ground, shouting obscenities and beating me. The angels joined him in the taunting, using words I'd never heard before to degrade me further. When they were satisfied with my bruised and bloody form, they carved a pentagram into my back, branding me as an outcast forsaken by the one they served.
The next memories are vivid. As I lay in the dirt, beaten and scarred, a man as beautiful as the sun appeared before me, his darkened wings pulled in close to his sides. Though my throat was coated with dust, I managed to ask him if he was death, come to take me. He chuckled at the thought, a beautiful sound to my ears. "I bring not death, woman, but a chance for new life, should you accept," He replied, his face betraying no emotion behind the words. Foggy with pain, I tried my best to examine him, to uncover the intention of his words. 
My eyes took him in, committing to memory his golden hair which fell carelessly in his jewel tone eyes. Adam had been beautiful, but this stranger who exuded danger made him seem as disagreeable and unpleasant to the eye as a goat. Entranced as I was by his beauty and allure, I agreed immediately. With little ceremony he picked me up, careful of my injuries, and carried me, singing a lullaby to me even after I fell asleep.
When I next awakened I was in a room within this very castle, clothed in pure white silk and lying upon a bed dressed in deep crimson satin. He was there with me, standing at the foot of the bed. His arms were crossed over his bare chest. I felt his gaze upon me and my cheeks heated, a reaction which left me confused. Adam had seen me unclothed on many occasions, and I'd never felt such strangeness by his gaze on me. Now, even through the soft gown, I blushed crimson.
"Are you healed?" He inquired, his eyes returning to my face to hold my gaze. Startled by the sudden sound, I jumped. Carefully I moved first my arms, then my legs, gauging the soreness of each limb. The bruises had faded and the cuts on my shoulder no longer burned, but still my muscles ached. 
Turning my head up to meet his gaze once again, I flushed. The expression in his eyes was one I'd seen only once before, when Adam came for me. It should have frightened me, but in his eyes, it inspired no fear. Much to my surprise, it captivated me, made my heart race. I mumbled my reply, too wrapped up in a whirlwind of previously undiscovered emotion to manage more. 
In a moment he was seated beside me, his bare chest so close I could reach out and touch it, should I so desire. I bit back the impulse. It seemed too powerful an act, as if by making first contact, I would seal an unbreakable covenant between us. Instead I allowed myself to admire the beauty of him, of the smooth, unmarred skin which stretched over taut muscle. He’d neglected to shave that day, and the faint blond stubble graced his noble face as if it were always meant to be there. 
“Does my form please you?” He asked simply. I blushed crimson at the directness of his question, my sense of shame brutally ingrained from the beating I received at the hands of Adam and his minions. I remained silent until he spoke again. “When I ask something of you, I expect an answer, little one.”
I stumbled over my words, but managed to squeak out a faint yes. He smiled at my awkwardness, as if it were an admirable trait. 
“I am going to kiss you now.” He said with little ceremony. I tensed, remembering the bruising force of Adam’s mouth on mine. Anticipating my trepidation, he laid a reassuring hand on my arm. “I know that fool Adam tried to kiss you, but he is ignorant of how to please a woman. I am not. I promise that you will enjoy my kiss.” He reassurance warmed me, but it wasn’t until I felt his mouth on my own that my fear melted away.
He tasted divine, masculine and sweet all at once. His mouth was soft and coaxing, encouraging me to explore my own passions with him as my guide. I drank it in hungrily, sampling his mouth like a fine delicacy. When he finally pulled away, a soft cry escaped my lips, a mourning of the loss of his mouth against mine.
“Now you must rest and recover.” He stood. I reached out to touch him, to bring him back to me, but he disappeared before me, leaving nothing but the faint smell of sulfur in his wake. I cried out at the loss, trapped by a sea of unfamiliar emotion. Without his presence, the desires stirring within me changed to feelings of devastation and loss. I did not understand his intentions, but ached to understand more about the connection we’d shared when his lips touched mine.
Many days passed before I saw him again. As soon as I could walk easily on my own, I was moved from the crimson chamber to a solitary suite at the top of an obsidian tower which gave me an unparalleled view of the sky and the moon. My rooms were beautiful, but I was lost within them, left to wander aimlessly from window to chair to bed and back as the featureless daytime sky longed for the moon’s return.
He appeared suddenly, clothed in a pristine white suit and holding a single scarlet rose, which he offered to me. I promptly blushed and his mouth upturned slightly at the corners in apparent amusement at my naiveté. He stepped toward me, closing the distance between us and causing the heat of the room to intensify exponentially.
"Thank you," I whispered delicately, struggling to stop my voice from trembling.
"I'm glad you are pleased, little one." He smiled as he spoke, eyes twinkling with some tremendous secret. Ignoring my crimson cheeks, he moved closer, the distance between us growing smaller, inch by inch, until we were almost touching. My eyes rose to meet his gaze, and I found that same strange burn smoldering within them. 
I reached up to touch his face, seeking out his mouth with my own in my eagerness to feel his touch again. He pulled away, mischief in his eyes.
“Not tonight, little one. Tonight I intend to hold you.” I began to protest, but he pulled me into an embrace, his strong arms enveloping me in a protective wall of comfort. I tensed at the contact, but after a few moments’ time, I relaxed into him, letting his warmth seep into me. I relished the contact of his skin on mine, and I pressed my face into his chest where his shirt came unlaced. 
When his hold loosened, I looked up, expecting to see that same, familiar expression in his eyes. But in its place was something fiercer, a desire with a hardened edge to it. It frightened me, and I tried to pull away, but he held me fast in pace as his mouth came crashing down on mine.
I didn’t think I would like it, that kiss full of hot desire and possessive intent, but it excited me even more than our first kiss, sending waves of desire coursing through me and making heat pool between my legs. I grasped at him wildly, seeing a tighter grip on the man who set my body aflame. 
When he finally released me, my legs refused to hold my weight and I collapsed onto the floor, my rose forgotten in the heat of the moment. He carried me to my bed, his arms strangely tense as he laid me atop the covers and placed his gift on the table beside me.
“Good night.” He kissed my forehead and turned to leave, offering me a view of his magnificent backside. I blushed when I realized where I was staring, but held my gaze steady until he disappeared behind the door. 
Left alone to take stock of events, I attempted to dissect the meanings of the feelings he elicited in me. The heat between my legs had not subsided, and caused a gentle ache for some cure I could not fathom. I touched myself gingerly, seeking to reassure myself that I was not injured in any way.  The wetness my fingers found surprised me. I brought my hand to my mouth, tasting my own essence in my naïve confusion. 
My fingers brushed against the sensitive bundle of nerves at the core of me, and I gasped. I’d never felt anything so good, not even kisses. Tentatively, I ran my fingers over the sensitive flesh again. Tendrils of pleasure snaked through me, sending down my spine and intensifying the strange heat which pooled in my belly. 
Emboldened by my success, I sought a steady rhythm, driving myself to the edge of madness as I explored the sensations I could create simply by touching myself. It was too wonderful for words, and I relished the feeling of power I had over my own body. The first true feeling of control I’d had since Adam’s brutal attack.
My fingers ran wildly over my body, finding my breasts and teasing the nipples in an erotic show, borne of instinct and curiosity. The fire he’d sparked within me grew into a wild conflagration and burst into a thousand tiny flames as I pushed myself over the edge, shattering into my first ever orgasm with untried force. 
The tremors slowly diminished as I floated back down, fascinated by my body’s response to such simple stimulation. I’d never felt anything so intense before, and was eager to try creating such feelings again. But the moon hung high in the nighttime sky, and I drifted off to sleep before I could explore my newly discovered sexuality further, leaving me to dream of the beautiful man who’d brought me here. The idea that I wanted him to be mine was shocking. I’d never felt that way about Adam, even before his brutality. 
Every night he returned, each time bringing a gift and pushing me a little bit farther into my own sexuality. His unending patience fascinated me, and together we undid the mistrust and fear Adam had instilled in me with my first violent encounter. Each night after he left, I explored my sexuality further on my own, learning my own body and what pleasures I liked best. 
We continued in this way for what seemed like eons, although it was likely only a few months worth of time in his strange, demonic paradise. He would appear suddenly, just after moonrise, and together we took our explorations further until I was ready to truly give myself over to the wonderful man who’d rescued me that awful day.
That night, he came dressed in simple black robes which made his luminous golden hair even more striking. I marveled at his beauty, as I always did, and wondered how I could have ever been so lucky to be found by a man as patient and beautiful as he. He was everything I could have ever asked for, if I’d ever been given the choice, and the extraordinary love and gratitude I felt for him far outweighed any remaining trepidation I had about the physical act of sex.
“Are you happy here?” There was something strange about his posture, some added tension which I’d not seen since our first few nights together. 
“Of course I am. How could I even ask for more, my lord?”
“I am glad, love. I did not think you would adjust so easily. Perhaps I underestimated you.” He smiled at the thought, as if he’d expected me to remain afraid of him forever. 
“I do not think so, my lord. I believe you underestimated yourself. Recovery from the scars Adam left me was just a matter of time, but it was you who helped through it. Without you, I’d still be lost.” It was the first time I’d ever spoken so much at once in his presence, and he stared at me for quite some time afterwards, as if debating with himself over some matter of great importance. Finally, he spoke.
“Lilith. Do you love me?” It was the first time he’d said my name and the sound of it rolling off his tongue sent shivers down my spine. Love. I’d not thought of it in such terms, the way I felt about the beautiful man before me, but when he put it to question, I realized there was only one answer.
“Yes, my lord. I loved you even before I believed myself to be capable of such an emotion.” His eyes closed at my words, taking in the sound of my voice as I confessed what I’d only just realized myself.
“Be my queen,” He said without ceremony. My eyes widened at the notion. Queen. Cast-off by my first husband, only to be rescued by his enemy and made his queen. It had a certain poetic justice to it. I would not be the weak, spineless woman Adam would have forced me to become. I could freely be myself and still be loved. I smiled.
“There is no place I’d rather be than beside you, my lord. I will be your queen.” His mouth came crashing down on mine in a fierce show of possession; his arms gathered me back up into his embrace. There was nothing I could do but allow him to stake his claim, to ravage my mouth with his own. My lips parted and his tongue moved inside, tasting and teasing and plundering my mouth, fighting my own for dominance over the kiss though I knew I could not win.
I gasped for air when he finally relented, drawing in deep breaths as I tried to calm my burning body. I wanted him. I wanted him to make me his own, to claim me in a way no other man ever had. I pulled at his clothing, desperate to see him before me the way I’d once seen Adam, naked and male and fully potent before me. He batted my hands away with ease. 
“Not yet, beloved. I want to make this night yours.” I didn’t understand what he meant, but I allowed my hands to drop meekly to my sides. My turn would come, and I would bring him more pleasure than he could ever have imagined.
His mouth dipped down to take mine again. He was gentle now, probing and seductive. He left my mouth to trail kisses down my throat, pausing at the sensitive flesh between neck and shoulder to nip lightly at the skin. I gasped from the sharp, sudden pain, its stark contrast to the pleasure he’d already given intensifying the growing desire pooling deep in my core. 
While his focus was elsewhere, I pulled apart the ties keeping my gown together and let it fall away, exposing my breasts to him. He growled in approval but pulled my hands away, pinning them to my sides with his own as he continued his path down to my waiting breasts.
“You are magnificent.” His admiration brought heat rising to my skin and its pale white flushed brighter and brighter while his gaze lingered on my uncovered flesh. When his mouth came down to envelop my exposed breast, it was all I could do not to scream. The warmth of his mouth was breathtaking, and I squirmed beneath him, desperate to feel more of his touch. 
He took his time with me, mouth lingering on my breasts in a delicious tease, blowing warm air across dampened flesh before moving on to work the same magic on the other. It was divine, and I lost myself in the sensation of him. When he pulled away I cried out, my arms struggling against his hold to pull him back to me. He drew my arms above my head and secured them with a single hand, leaving me free to continue my futile struggle for control while he continued his ministrations.
His free hand set to work pulling the fabric of my gown away from me entirely, letting it fall on the floor in a disused heap so that I stood before him, bare. The heat pooling within me intensified under his gaze, a flame roaring into an all-consuming need for his presence, for his touch. My arms went limp in his hold, my fight for control forgotten under the heat only his eyes could light within me.
“Sit on the edge of the bed and lie back, but leave your feet over the side,” He commanded, releasing me from his grasp. I did as I was told, eager to feel whatever new pleasure he wished to give me. Trembling with desire, I positioned myself as he’d instructed and waited for him to move.
For what seemed like an eternity he stood still, inspecting me with his gaze. I ached to feel his touch, but did not dare move for fear of disobeying his command. Finally he moved, parting my knees wide to expose my most sensitive flesh to his view. 
“What will you taste like, beautiful?” He asked, blowing a long draw of warm air across my swollen core. I shivered. “Will you be sweet? I think so.” His words were enough to send liquid rushed to my already wet center.
The first brush of his tongue was unlike anything I’d ever felt. He’d used his hands in our explorations, but never his tongue, and to feel him between my legs was a greater paradise than I’d ever hoped to see again. With each pass of his tongue pleasure rocketed through me, building and building into a great wave of sensation threatening to crash down on my head and drown me. 
I came in a rushing torrent of pleasure, trembling more each time his tongue swept over my sensitive flesh to elicit little sounds of pleasure from me even after I’d screamed for him.
“You’re so sweet,” he murmured against me, lifting his gaze to meet mine as I drifted lazily back down from the crash of emotion and pleasure he’d sent through me. “Want to taste?” I nodded greedily and he rose up from the floor to take my mouth with his own. 
It was incredibly erotic, to taste myself on his lips and tongue as he lay claim to my mouth once more. My hands sought out the bulging length of him, still trapped beneath clothes. He groaned when I wrapped my hands around him, breaking the kiss to pull away.
“Not this time. I want to savor you, and if you touch me like that, I’m afraid I will come undone in your hands before I have the chance to claim you properly.” I allowed him to remove my hands and watched as he pulled away the clothes that were the finally barrier between us. I’d seen his chest before, but it still took my breath away, the hard muscles bulging beneath tightly drawn skin. 
His cock stood at attention, jutting out from his hips like a dangerous weapon waiting to be used. It was enormous, and for a fleeting moment I was afraid I would be unable to take him within me. 
“I will never do anything to harm you, my love. Believe that of me.” His reassurance was all it took to melt away my trepidation. He’d saved me from a nightmare and given me all I could ever ask, and I trusted him completely. 
Sensing that my fear had left me, he moved back into the space between my legs to kiss me once more, his length probing gently at my heated entrance. I moaned at the contact, need building within me again even though I’d only just found release. Hooking an arm around the small of my back, he picked me up to settle me fully on the bed, never quite breaking the kiss.
He pushed a single finger into me and I gasped, the intrusion strange and wonderful all at once. Tiny movements sent extraordinary pleasure rushing through me, and soon he’d pushed another finger into my dripping entrance, preparing me to take his enormous member. His fingers danced across my clit, arousing me even more to allow me to take another finger inside myself. I squirmed beneath his touch, desperate to feel his length inside me.
The third finger burned as it pushed its way past my maidenhead, but the pleasures he’d already brought to my writhing body far out weighted the slight discomfort. I cried out as another orgasm swept over me, my inner muscles clenching around his fingers as he continued to stretch my entrance until I could almost feel it tear beneath the cloudy haze of pleasure.
He withdrew as I floated down from the high of pleasure he’d created within me. I cried out at the loss, the emptiness unnatural after having felt him inside me. His mouth captured mine, swallowing the sound as he positioned himself between my thighs, the swollen head of his member probing my entrance. 
“It’s still going to hurt, and for that I am sorry. But not even I can keep that pain from you.” He kissed me again, as if to apologize for something that was out of his control.
“I do not blame you for whatever pain you may cause. I want you. Right here and right now. Please don’t deny me this because you fear hurting me.” He smiled at my reply, eyes burning with passion. He guided himself into me, pushing past my maiden barrier with a single, hard stroke.
I cried out at the suddenness of the pain, tears leaking from my eyes even as he kissed them away, uttering sweet words to calm me until the hurt went away. Once the initial pain faded, I found myself lost to another wave of desire. He filled me fully, the tightness of my inner muscles stretched to their limits to accommodate his size. And when he began to move, I swore to myself that nothing else could ever compare to the pleasure I felt, then and there.
His strokes became more and more intent, driving in and out of me like a man desperate to lay claim to that which he saw as his. And I was his to claim, riding the waves of emotion and pleasure higher and higher until the world shattered around me, my orgasm blinding in intensity. A few strokes later he joined me, shouting out as he shot his seed inside me. All too soon he pulled away to collapse on the bed, pulling me across rumpled sheets to rest in the warmth of his embrace.

It's been more years than I can count since that night. He rules his kingdom during the day, but at the first sight of the moon peeking out above the horizon he is mine to do with as I please. 
Sometimes, when I gaze up at the sunless sky and wait for my lord to return to me, I wonder what it would have been like had I repented and gone to paradise. Even with the furthest extent of my imagination, I cannot seem to conceive a notion of a place I would rather be. My home is not one of extreme beauty or delight, and true happiness is rarely found. But he is here, and for me, that makes it grander than even the most perfect paradise could ever hope to be.
END :)

If you liked this story, then don't forget to look out for Snow White, coming soon!

Excerpt:

It was on a tide of his words that she drifted off to sleep again, her dreams filled with images of men she’d never met going on brave adventures and meeting the loves of their lives.
When next she woke, the only light was what little starlight filtered down through the trees outside her window and through the lattice to cast their pale light on the wooden floor. Owain no longer occupied the chair at her bedside. She yawned and stretched her arms above her head, needing movement desperately after what seemed like days in bed. 
Hopeful, Eirwen tried to sit, pulling herself up slowly. The room remained stationary, and she managed to pull herself into an upright position. That small battle won, she looked around the room, taking in the soft outlines of the furniture in the glow of the moonlight. 
Not wishing to go back to sleep so soon, she decided to brave standing. It took a good bit of careful movement, but soon she was on her feet. Her first few steps were wobbly, her legs unsure how to work after being unused for so long. But soon she was steady again, if a bit slow. Her first few steps away from the bed were a perilous adventure, but she made it to the door without incident, and began her exploration of the house.
The hallway was long, with at least half a dozen doors leading off in either direction. She assumed they each led to a bedroom, and did not dare disturb those within. Instead, she braved the stairs in the hopes of exploring the common areas of the house. The handrail proved to be her saving grace as she hobbled to the ground floor. The foot of the stairwell opened up on a large family room. Chairs and benches were arranged in a semi-circle around the fireplace creating a warm, welcoming place to chat in the winter. Large windows opened up onto a garden, shutters thrown wide in welcome to the cool night air.
Eirwen shivered. Moonlight streamed through the window lattice, highlighting the iridescent pale skin for which she was named. She stood in the soft glow, staring out at the nighttime forest and marveling at how little fear the trees held for her now that she was far from her stepmother’s grasp.
An unfamiliar sound broke her free of her reverie, drawing her attention from the world outside to the one within the walls. The faint glow of a distant candle led her through an open door to a small hallway, where a single door stood, slightly ajar. Curious, she peered through the crack, seeking out the source of the sound.
A man she’d never seen before lay sprawled on the bed, entirely naked. He was taller than Owain, fair-headed and muscular where Owain was dark and lean. His large hand grasped at his manhood, pumping up and down in a steady rhythm as he groaned from the sensation. He writhed and spasmed in pleasure, eyes closed as some unseen fantasy played for him.
Eirwen flushed from head to breast, her skin a warm and vibrant red at the realization of what she was witnessing. A man pleasuring himself in the same way a lover might. Though she’d occasionally stumbled across one of the maids in compromising positions with various male servants in her stepmother’s household, she’d never witnessed such abandon, or even such a lack of clothing.
It set something deep within her aflame, sending heat to places she’d never thought to feel such things. Backing away from the hall, she sank into a chair and closed her eyes. Images of Owain flashed through her mind. What he would look like, sprawled out on a bed like that. What it would feel like to be the one to do such things to him. She tried to be angry with herself for betraying her prince in such a way, but she couldn’t help the way the thoughts sent little tendrils of pleasure coiling through her, or how those tendrils of pleasure seemed to coalesce into an overwhelming feeling of warmth and happiness.
She shook herself from the fantasy. She’d only just escaped the loss of her virtue to the huntsman. How could she even begin to think about throwing it away on a man she barely knew? She pulled herself to her feet and started back for the stairs. A good night’s sleep and she’d forget all about her indiscretion.
She’d just reached the foot of the stairs when she ran into something solid. The unexpected impact sent her tumbling to the floor, a sinking suspicion in the pit of her stomach. Looking up, her suspicions were confirmed. A bare-chested Owain stood over her, concern shining in his remarkable brown eyes.
“What’re you doing out of bed, miss? You’re not fit to be up and about just yet!”

Other titles by Lorelai Phoenix include:

Seducing the Teacher
Grad student Tracie just can't seem to get her mind off of sexy Professor Browning. When an outrageous stunt lands her an invitation to his office, she slips into sexy schoolgirl fashion to take her punishment. But will her horny professor's demands be too much for her to handle? Warning: This 4,400 word short story contains hot student-teacher action, light bdsm and may be too hot to handle! 

Sleepover Sexprise
When shy virgin Mitchell refuses to sleep in his own bed, Sharon has a plan. She'll use every trick in the book to seduce him back into his room. But will her womanly wiles win her a place in his heart? Warning: This 3,400 word short story contains steaming showers, lots of oral and a first time you won't soon forget!

About the Author

Mild-mannered English teacher by day, raunchy smut-slinger by night, Lorelai Phoenix aims to misbehave. Lorelai lives in the southeast with her husband and their two cats, Chaucer and Captain Nemo.

* * * * *
The Hunt
By
N.S. Charles

Copyright © 2012 by N.S. Charles

* * * * *

The fire grew low in that cave in the woods.  It smelt of bear dander and dried dung, decades past, and now the smell of burning tinder and dried grasses permeated the air.  The man next to the fire was leaning back against the wall, his hands making a bit of use in the firelight with his whetstone.  He sharpened his blade in the low light, waiting for the grouse to finish cooking.
One of his hands found another piece of kindling and he threw it into the fire, watching it flare up, hearing it crackle and pop as the flames ate the wood away.  He went back to his work, running the smooth, gray stone over his sword, taking care to hold it securely as he worked both sides to razor sharp perfection.
Something moved in the corner of his eye and he was on to his feet immediately, brandishing the blade in his right hand and grabbing up his leather targe in the other.  The hard crack of thunder rebounded off of the craggy, vine-taken walls of the bear’s cave as a sharp streak of lightning blossomed in the sky.
He’d seen movement on his left, and so he circled to his right, keeping his blade ready.  His steps took him outside of the cave into the light drizzle of rain underneath the treetops.  The bear’s cave was a blessing in the ill weather, but he worried now that it might have a different inhabitant despite the smells of an animal being long diluted.  Sword in hand, he ventured out, catching a glimpse of something disappearing behind the rocks of his warm shelter.
Already he knew the surrounding woods, having mucked through them for dry kindling.  There was a rock about ten feet off on his right; he crept toward it now, not feeling safe to return to the cave.  He would leave his meal behind if he had to, not trusting this dark, treacherous wood with its whispering trees.  The bear’s cave had been welcome comfort after a long day’s journey, and he would miss it.
There was a flutter of wings and a bat’s shriek as something black and ferocious leapt from the peak of rock above.  He threw up his targe in defense, wishing there had been a moment’s notice to affix its spike to meet this manner of beast head on.
It came down on him, a fury of talons and leathery bat’s wings, screeching its rage.  The swordsman, the hunter, flung the beast back and readied himself for combat.
“Come beast,” he said.  “Come and face death.”
The bat thing attacked, flapping its great wings and rearing back to strike with its clawed feet.  The hunter swung his broadsword to keep it back, feinted left and dodged right as it jumped through the air he had just occupied.  They circled around each other as the thunderclouds above broke and rain poured down over them.  The swordsman felt his hair go slack over his eyes, his leather armor bouncing the assaulting rain off of his body.
He watched, in horror, as the rain sizzled and refused to hit the beast.  It rolled off of it, like an invisible barrier surrounded it, a few fingers width over its mangy fur.  The daemon thing snarled, screeched its sonic scream and bounded after him.
The targe took most of the blow, and the swordsman pushed it back, barely.  His leather boots slipped and he stumbled for purchase as it leapt forward, its heavy wings beating as it rose up over him and dropped.  His sword arm came forward to meet it in a thrust, but it turned to fog before his very eyes, transforming from bat beast to  shimmering fog and he took the chance to pull a dagger from his belt.
If he was to be without the shield spike, so be it, but he would have his main and secondary weapons against so foul a thing.  He kept his eyes trained on the fog, trained on the thing, standing at the ready.  There was the snapping of a twig in his ears and he looked for a quarter second.  The fog shifted, swirling back into the bat thing before it attacked.  The second daemon thing, the one that snapped the twig leapt up on his left.  He doubted that it knew he had his secondary in his hand.  He moved, bringing the targe up to deflect the first, spinning with it to get away with renewed vigor.
His sword came down on the second, catching it in the wing, slicing into the leathery stretching and causing it to shriek in its pain.
Lightning flashed and he saw them both illuminated, two horrible bat beasts, crying and shrieking their anger.  The second came at him again as the thunder boomed, pouncing high into the air.  He ignored his burning urge to use the shield this time, thrusting his arm out to catch it in the throat with the rim of it.  The thing let out a choking cough and stumbled backwards, the brother creature rushing forward with gnashing jaws, only to catch the swordsman’s blade in its great maw.  He shoved forward, slipping in the mud, driving the sharp blade into its brain and killing it.
The second brother jumped on him before the elder went into death throes, but the swordsman’s blade was stuck deep.  He whirled, meeting the thing with his dagger, the short steel cutting a swathe of flesh from its snout.  It leapt back, thunder cracking overhead at the same time its sister flashed across the sky.
Behind that wretched thing there were a dozen more, filling the air with their mourning cries.
In the back, there was a girl, the girl he was meant to save.  Fair-haired and pale-eyed.  She looked at him with a trembling face and quivering lips.  A braid of rope bound her hands, and she was emaciated, her complexion fraught with dark circles under the eyes and high, but hollowed cheeks.
That was all that he saw in that burst of light, as the gods wept high overhead.  They dropped the tumultuous curtain of rumbling storm clouds and hard sheets of ice rain down onto that good man that night.  He pulled his sword from their bat brother as they keened, and the foul daemon things gave him time enough to steady himself and affix his shield spike.  They gave him time enough to remember his training, remember his creed, and remember his name.  They did not, however, give him time to look up into the beautiful, horrific sky and pray to the divines for their wisdom, courage, and power.  Those horrendous bat creatures made him a man before them, but not a champion.
They flew at him in a rage, and the swordsman took a swipe before he took off through the trees.  He was fast, built for combat, built for agility, and his legs pumped with a vigorous adrenaline.  But the shrieking things were faster.  He met the elder thing’s brother in a clutch of trees that would be soon stained with blood.  The creature chomped its jaw at him, the teeth gnashing over his dagger with a show of spark.  He gutted that one with the broadsword, whirling to meet the next.
His shield blocked a blow and tore a gouge of flesh out as he slammed a sinewy, musty beast back, and he spun to meet another, his blood pumping.  The swordsman danced with them, spinning and parrying to evade their talons, his leather armor doing its best to repel the hot, nasty breath that brought bile into the throats of many a veteran warrior, to dispel their flying spittle and acrid blood.
Talons raked into his back, smashing him to one knee, catching the string of his bow and snapping it back on him.  He roared as he went down, eager to reach for a potion, remembering his poultices back in the bear’s cave.  Bravely, he rose from bended knee amid the chaos, surrounded by the sonic shrieks and fluttering wings.
Another came down on him, swooping low with talons outstretched.  His targe went out and he bent to protect himself, whirling about in a blur to take one horrendous talon with his newly sharp blade.
When it cried, they flew down upon him and one by one he repelled their attacks, shield spike taking chunks of flesh, dagger stealing grim chances at snouts and fangs, always parrying what he could not block.  The sword, however, did the most work that night, letting blood and gristle and innards from their owners until he found himself face to face with just one.  Just the eldest.  The biggest, greatest thing.
It charged, reared up with its talons out, and when he swung through it, a clean killing blow, it transformed into that same mist, passed through him, around him.  It chilled him, to know its taint across his flesh and inside what makes men and women human.  He shivered with the feeling, spun to meet it again, and saw its true form.
“Come then, blood drinker.”
It snarled at him, he snarled at the swordsman.  Bleeding and keening with words that did not come from a human tongue.  It passed into its hound form and rushed him, with jaws snapping for his throat.  The blessed shield spike repelled that, and it came at him again, with claws that would tear into his arm, sinking into his flesh and setting him on fire, but he let his beloved dagger rake along the thing’s side.
It backed away, afraid of his saint’s steel, afraid to be undone by the powers of the divine.  It misted, that suffocating white fog fleeing into the sky before shifting into its bat skin, running from the fight.
He pulled the bow and nocked an arrow after shaking his targe away and dropping the blessed blade.  He aimed as it grew distant against the moons, ethereal and blue in the ice rain.  Lightning struck, blowing wood into splinters that whipped for almost a mile around and his arrow struck true.  It died before it hit the ground, that blood drinking thing, fell end over end through the canopy of trees, with an arrow dipped in poisonous wet of the divine through its thick sinuous heart.
The swordsman took the girl, cut her free from her enslavement, returned to the bear’s cave.  She was grateful, but scared.  Abused and broken, a former slave to the blood drinkers, and by the look of her pale, malnourished body, she had been in their thrall for some time.  She didn’t let him take her under his arm as they trekked back to the bear’s cave in the dark, the freezing sheets of ice rain pelting her with frozen pebbles at times, and struggling to make off with her skirts at others when ill winds blew up.
But they made it to the bear’s cave, and the grouse was perfect, juicy and tender.  The swordsman gave the girl the dark meats and although grateful, she ate little.  Originally, his plan had been to go looking for the beasts in the day, to save half of his bird for the next morning and sup lightly that night.  But his fight had left him ravenous, and while the girl ate in nibbles he almost made a show of pulling the meat from its bones with his teeth.
The girl giggled at him, and as she warmed by the firelight, her legs tucked underneath her, he realized that she was no girl.  The color was returning to her face, bringing out the eyes from their dark hiding space, and the scraggly, white blonde hair transformed into glowing locks that framed a delicate heart shaped face.
“Let me treat your wounds, hunter,” she finally said.  Her voice was a lilting, cheery, personification of a lark’s call.
“I am fine, madam.”  He said to her after a moment’s hesitation.  “They’ve stopped their bleeding for the night.”
His charge rose to her feet in the flickering warm of the fire.  She took light steps around the circle of stones he had made, drawing her skirts up to the ankle as she paced around the crackling fire.  She sat further back than he, behind him, but off to one side.
“My father and brothers are hunters,” she spoke.  Her hands were already taking stock.  She counted his rolls of bandage aloud, and gathered his healing poultices without having to ask which were made from perfumed grasses and which came from ground fats and spices.
She took off his armor, sitting behind him on her legs, rising up on both knees to take the pieces he offered and talking about her family.  They were what she missed the most, these days, she explained, the entire reason that she never gave in, why she never let anything beat her.  She whispered, “I will see them again one day,” with a wavering voice.
“Your back has not stopped bleeding at all, sir.”  She said as she helped him out of the leather jerkin.  His shirt was torn, and a circle of blood had seeped into it.  “I should call you a liar, but I don’t know you by name.  I’m afraid that the title wouldn’t stick.”
“Dalin.  Of the Creed.”
“And rightfully so, sir.  Only a Creedsman could do that work, two and twelve blood drinkers in the span of an hour.”  She moved to take his shirt off of him, but he did not budge.
“Madam…” he started.
“No.  Take this off.  You need to be treated, or fever will take you, Creedsman.”
Together, they worked the shirt off of Dalin, and his charge took it upon herself to work poultice and bandage over his wounds, binding him tight to keep infection from spreading.  Her hands worked over his back with a gentle touch, loosing tension that had built up in his many seasons of courageous adventure.  When her hands danced over his neck, Dalin decided he’d had enough of her for one night.
“Madam, your hands are like magicks, but I am full and the fire warm.  You have made me content and I thank you, but let us sleep, we will set from these woods with the sun.”
“You speak true, sir,” she whispered near his ear, “but I owe you my life.  Let me keep you company tonight.”
“Madam—“
“Miss,” she corrected.  “Anessa Curtis, of the Plains.”
She planted a kiss on his neck, letting herself linger over his warm flesh.  One of her hands wrapped around his torso, feeling the corded muscle of his chest underneath dainty fingertips.
“Miss Curtis, I don’t think it wise.  I’ll prepare bedding for you.”
“Don’t bother,” Anessa said.  She pulled Dalin back toward her, laying him down against the warmed rock of the bear’s cave.  Her hands went to his pants, hovering there above the closure.   Dalin barely felt her hands working to loose him, lying there, looking up at the illumination of her legs beneath her skirts.  She was smooth and pale, and although her closed jacket held her bosom close and covered, he imagined that her breasts were firm, the size of small apples, with pale nipples the hue of milky pigeonberry.
Anessa took him into her hands and moved to bend over him.  She used her tongue to wet her fingers before rubbing her thumb over the head of his shaft, watching it grow in size as she manipulated it.  Her fingers gripped him firmly, her mouth nibbling near his base while her fingers worked over him.
Dalin groaned as she worked, one of his rough hands finding her thigh.  He rubbed her through her skirts, feeling the smooth legs underneath her clothing and undertunic.  He wondered what wonder lay under her skirts, and lost himself to the fire and her fingers as she worked him harder, faster.
The swordsman groaned under her touch, watching her fingers fly over his cock from base to tip, her thumb teasing the slit in its head.  Her tongue trailed up his length and he felt his hips jump and shake involuntarily as she did so.  His fingers dug into her supple flesh, and he panted hard, rivaling the crackling sounds of the fire.
Anessa took him into her mouth, her wet fingers moving over his muscular thighs as she pushed his pants and breeches down to his knees.  Her tongue twirled over his shaft and her hand came up to stroke him between his thighs, waiting for his muscles to relax until she pressed her finger inside.
Dalin moaned, the hand he had on her thigh sliding on her silken skirts to nestle against the beautiful mound between her legs.  She was hot with desire, but didn’t allow him entry, instead seeking to concentrate on his pleasure.  He felt her hot mouth swallow him, suck his hard shaft deep until he was rubbing against the back of her throat.  The finger inside between his legs curled and pressed upward, rubbing him just the right way while she bobbed on him.  Her free hand at his base twirled around him, manipulated him like no man had experienced before, until finally, with his breathing ragged he pulled her lips from his prick.
She worked him until he exploded for her, shooting hard and landing a few drops on both of them.
Wordlessly, Anessa cleaned them both up, pulled Dalin’s thick furred pelt—a sign of a Creedsman—from his traveling pack and fell asleep bundled together with him.
***
The swordsman woke to find his shirt laid out for him, pressed into a little square that was warm with the sun’s rays.  The thick pelt laid made him hot, which caused him to fuss in his sleep.  He found dried blood on his chest that rubbed off of his skin when he touched it, but most of the bandages running across his chest were free of any ruddy trace.  He stoked the fire with a piece of kindling to make sure that it was still going, and then banked it to preserve it for the night.
His mind trailed to Anessa, and he turned round to see if maybe he’d missed her underneath the great fur.  She was in the back of the cave, with her knees drawn up to her chest.  She looked fuller in the face, healthier.
“I am going to hunt while the light is still good, Miss Anessa,” he stated.  The sun was sinking in the sky, and he immediately regretted not being up the sun like he said he would be.  “I apologize for sleeping in.  I didn’t think I would be this tired.  Are you alright?”
“I am fine.” Anessa’s voice was a grave imitation of what it had been.  It was light and feminine, yes, but there was a grating sound that wasn’t quite there the night before.  Something feral.
“Then please, come out with me.  I don’t want to leave you to this cave while I hunt.”
“I will be fine.  I… I don’t agree with the light anymore, I’m afraid.”  There was a frown on her fair visage.
“Did they keep you in chains, away from the sun?”  It was a common thing, for blood drinkers.  They introduced their thralls to their insanity, kept them waking during normal hours of sleep, convincing them that they were also creatures of the night.
Anessa didn’t answer.
They had grouse again that night, and Dalin offered the plainsgirl his wineskin, which she eagerly took.  He was left to consume the grouse by himself, Anessa’s stomach too accustomed to thin gruels to take such a hearty meat at once.  She promised she would work her way up to such a meal soon, but in the mean time she would take wine and water, and perhaps the juicy drippings of the meat with hard bread if he could find a way to catch them.
“So tell me about you, sir.  Did I make you do something terrible last night against your will?”  She scooted in closer to him after their dinner, cleaning herself on the dark fabric of her jacket.
“No, miss,” Dalin replied.
“I’m glad then.”
“Do you have family?” She asked.
“All of them lost to me beyond my creed.  But I have brothers, brothers of my oath now.  We are one and twenty, ready to fight the creatures of the night by our creed alone.”
“And are they all as handsome as you, sir?”
“What would you do if they were, Miss Anessa?”  They both laughed, the plainsgirl putting her head to his shoulder.  She looped her arm in his and leaned into him, her wispy white blonde hair glowing by the firelight.
She reached her hand to his pants, quickly undoing them to get at him.
“Miss Anessa,” Dalin said in a whisper of breath.  “I don’t think this wise.”
“Shh, my Creedsman,” she replied.  She pushed him back against fur underneath them, took his pants and breeches to his knees and pulled his swollen member into her mouth with more exuberance than the night before.  Her cheeks hollowed out as she swallowed inch after inch, bobbing up and down, up and down.
His hands found her head and he stroked her hair back from her face as she sucked on his tip, twirling her tongue around him before dipping to take him fully again.  The fat head of his cock slid deep into her throat, making her choke.  Anessa came up for air, replacing her mouth with a tight fist, fucking him with her hand while the other reached down to caress his balls.
“Ahh, yes,” Dalin breathed out.  His lungs were hitching and catching with each gasp.  His hips bucked involuntarily and he felt his meaty cock slide down Anessa’s throat.  She bounced on his crotch, pushing him as deep as she could get him, with a hand at his base to keep him steady.
He reached out to grab her by her hips, interrupting her sucking to pull her on top of him.  She was already wet between the legs, and he moved himself under her skirts and undertunic to find her dripping with her excitement.  She moaned when he touched her, when he split her apart to dip a finger into her wet canal.  Anessa’s hips came down to meet him and her nether lips swallowed his finger as they rolled and crashed against his hand.
He inhaled her arousing scent and pressed on, two thick fingers squeezing in; stretching her while his thumb busied itself within her folds.  He thumbed her elusive pearl, and felt it slip away from him as Anessa moaned her pleasure out on his cock.  She was steadily bobbing her head to slurp him, her hand following her lips as she bounced up and down on him, twisting around him.
Dalin pressed his fingers into her, sliding them in and out at a furious pace.  His fingers pistoned in and out of her, his knuckles rubbing against her lips as she rocked back to meet him, moaning around his member every time the pad of his thumb grazed her.
She flung her body back to meet his hand, swinging a little circle to press him into the places that felt the best.  Her hand came off of his rod so that she could take him more aggressively and she crashed her face into the thick forest of hair around his shaft until his balls pressed against his body and he came into her hot mouth.  “Mmm…” she moaned, her hips jerking erratically as her clit bumped into Dalin’s thumb one more time and she came as well.  She rode his hand slowly as her body spasmed, her clit clenching and her tunnel fluttering until she lifted her head to cry out.
They cleaned up and Dalin went back to the grouse, finishing another piece of thigh meat off before pulling a skin of drink from his traveling pack.  Anessa’s eyes were already lit by the time he looked at her, vibrant and the blue of the cold morning sky.  He offered her the first drink and she happily took it, raising it to her lips before recoiling and coughing.
“Are you alright?”
Anessa cleared her throat and Dalin rubbed her back to soothe her agitated throat.
“I’m fine.  I haven’t drank such clean water in weeks, is all.”  Her voice was once again the lark’s song filtered through gravel.  Dalin worried that her health was more seriously deterred than he had once thought.
“Maybe you should sup,” he said, taking the skin from her.  It was not his wine, but the crisp, refreshing taste of blessed water that always reinvigorated his faculties.  Certainly not for all, the pure dew of the divine was always cold as a mountain stream.  In front of the fire, Anessa’s breath blew out visible until the fire ate the moisture up.
“I want to take a bath tomorrow,” his charge spoke.  “I am dirty, and I want to be fresh for our start out of this devilish wood.”
“You know that I can’t let you be alone out there,” he said in response.  “I will sit on the bank.”
“And watch me?”  She giggled at him.  Her voice was the lark’s song again.
“Maybe we can find a spot with a bit of bush so you can have your due privacy, m’lady.”
“Oh, I think you’ve already seen through my bush, Dalin.”
***
The next day, the Creedsman rose even later than the previous.  His chest ached under his bandages and so he unraveled the fabric to loosen them.  Anessa wasn’t around, but she came back soon enough, holding his bow and arrow and a fat hare.  Her skirts were tucked into the belt of her jacket, affording him a view of her leg as she strolled in with the dusk.  She smiled when she realized where his gaze went.
“You didn’t stir all day.  I was beginning to get worried that infection might take you from me.”  She said.  She sat with the hare between her legs, unloading the bow and arrow before she put everything back where it belonged.  She reached for his dagger, but hesitated before her hand crossed near the blade.  Dalin eyed what she was doing.
“Excuse me,” she said.  She offered up the hare with her apology.  “I should let you skin it.  I’m not good with that part anyway, just catching the things.”
He took it from her, still groggy.  She’d made an excellent kill, but there was no entry wound for the arrow.  He blinked his eyes a few times until he finally decided there was none to be found.
“How did you kill this?”  The fire was quiet between them until she brought it back to life with tinder she’d stowed in the quiver.  She was careful to inspect each slender piece she brought out of the arrow bag, lest she toss one of his blessed arrows into the fire.
“Oh.”  She almost didn’t say anything.  She finished sorting the kindling out into a pile before she answered.  “A beautiful thing, really.  My brothers and I used to chuck stones.  I always had the best accuracy, with rocks like…” she held up her fingers to curl into a circle, “this big.  So when I saw this fellow not paying attention, I beaned him in the head.  There’s a dip in the skull if you want to feel for it.  I washed him off when I took a bath.”
“That’s an odd thing to do with brothers,” Dalin offered.  He took his dagger and cut along the animal’s belly, then around its limbs to make good cuts and save the hide.  He pulled with one hand, cut with the other, like he’d been taught, and like he’d always done, making quick work of the hare like he did when he’d skinned and defanged the bat beasts the day before.  “They didn’t tease you off or tell you to play with your dolls?”
“No.  We were close, the lot of us.  A few cousins too.”  She smiled as she said it, but her lips trembled and her voice wavered.  “Do you have any more wine?  I think I’d like to drain a skin or two.”
“You confuse me with a dwarf.  Only the one, I carry.”
“I would think it took two for a Creedsman to feel even dizziness take him.”
“And I would tell you to get a barrel.”
Anessa laughed, and they joked back and forth until the rabbit was done and the moon and stars were out.  In the flickering light of the fire, she was healthy and happy.  Her cheeks had filled out in the two days since he’d found her, though the rim around her eyes was red, like she’d recently cried.  She smiled at him for hours as they chatted, nibbled on a bit more of the hare than he expected when he finally declared it done, and helped him finish off the wineskin.  They curled up by the fire and Dalin dozed off before he knew what had hit him.
***
He woke with a start several hours later with Anessa’s white blonde hair buried in his chest.  The bandages were undone, he knew that much from the feeling against his back on the fur and he tried to gently move the head of the plainsgirl, only to be met with a feeling of pain stretching through his entire chest.  His blood was on fire then and he hazily nudged Anessa’s head.  His throat began to close and burn and he reached for the skin containing his water.
Dalin hurried along faster when his heartbeat thumped in his ears and his tongue felt thick in his throat.  He fumbled the skin and it spilled over him, soothing his aching chest.
Anessa recoiled, swatting at her face and screaming bloody murder into the night.  She rolled away and jumped to her feet, and once Dalin regained complete use of his body he did the same.  She bared her fangs, the side of her face sizzling and healing.  Her pale blue eyes were a frozen, piercing blue.  Something unreal, but exquisitely beautiful.
“I put you out for the night,” she hissed.  The flesh on her face was perfect now, but the wet hair fell out.  He saw it, before his eyes, growing back out to replace the patches.  “How are you awake, Creedsman?”
“I’ve been drinking holy water.”  He inched forward for his sword and she took two steps in the blur of a quarter second.
“Don’t try me, hunter.  I have hundreds of years that make me your better.  You might have taken my brothers and cousins from me, but I am no wildling.  I was their ruler, their master.”
“Their sire.”  Dalin edged forward again, but she was there already, pushing him back against the far wall of the cave.
“Do not tempt me, you pathetic excuse for a man.”  Her mouth was stained with what looked like a beard of blood, and it ran down into her exposed cleavage.  She pressed against him and his cock filled with blood for her.  “Your kind cannot resist me.  Your kind are mere puppets to be played with.  I touch you and nearly come.”
“It’s your beauty that makes you lucky, Dalin of the Creed,” she added.  Her hands fell to his pants but she didn’t use her fingers to unlace him.  The familiar feeling of her magic working to pull the bow and push his pants down reminded him of their first night.  Her beautiful, crystalline blue irises bore down into his own, drowning him in her wintry gaze until he could no longer think.
Anessa’s hands took him, tugging and twirling him into pleasure.  She instructed him to lay down with her, to take her on his fur, and Dalin did as she asked.  He lowered her by the fire, taken by her charisma and compelled to do her desire.  She reached up to take off her stained undertunic, exposing her body to the warm air, and brought him down onto her in search of his lips.
They kissed each other hungrily, Anessa’s body warm and plump from feeding.  Her tits hung full and heavy as he grabbed them with rough hands, kneeling in front of her with his pants at his knees and his cock twitching in anticipation.  He plucked her milky pink nipples from her swollen flesh, twirling each between his fingers before he dipped his head to pull them into his waiting mouth, one at a time.  She was no longer the thin wraith he’d rescued, but a full, curvy woman.
His lips travelled down over her pinched waist and dangerous rounded hips, tickling her navel with his breath.  Anessa pulled him back up, crushing her lips against his and parting her legs for him.  Her juicing slit pulsed with her aching need and she welcomed him as the purple head of his fat cock pushed up against her.  Dalin reached a hand down as they kissed, covering his face in his own blood.  He guided himself into her, his shaft enveloped by her warmth.
She compelled him to slam into her and he did, lifting her into his lap to ride him, her nipples hard against the cool air and torturously rubbing against his body with each jiggling bounce.  She moaned into the night as she rode him, feeling his balls slapping against the puckered knot between her ass cheeks, feeling him spear into her again and again.  The warmth in her body spread as she neared her peak and she clung to him, throwing her hips against his, rolling her hips back to meet his cock, sheathing him again and again.
Dalin met her aching chest with his mouth again, taking a nipple into his mouth to run the flat breadth of his tongue over, wriggling it from side to side like she knew he wanted to do before she pushed him to do it.  His tongue traced lazy circles over one and then the other, sucking and slurping each into his mouth as they fucked, his shaft harder than steel as it penetrated her deep.  He groaned into her breasts, lowering his head to lick their softness, taking his time to let his tongue wander into their undersides.
Anessa yelped, cooing and shivering with pleasure as she rode him, feeling full and hot, wet and stretched to her limit as she slammed down into his lap.  She fought to remain in control but felt herself losing, felt herself about to cream on his cock.  She bounced on him as best she could, pressing his face into her chest as he licked and kissed and blew cool air across her distended nipples.
She couldn’t help but fuck him with short, grinding thrusts of her hips that pushed his dick deeper into her, bringing her closer to that edge.  Dalin was breathing his ragged song, clutching onto her hips for dear life as he pushed his thick cock into her with quick thrusts.  He was hitting her deep, hitting her just right.  His hands would leave bruises on her lower back, and he suckled just enough to mark her in all the spots he enjoyed on her body.  His tongue bathed her big, firm tits as he came up to suck hungrily on a swollen, hard nipple, and she groaned as he rammed into her—just where she wanted it.
They both came, one right after another.  Dalin shot deep inside of Anessa, filling her with his seed as he pumped away, that first splurt of jism setting her off and making her clamp down on him in a quivering, explosive orgasm that threatened to knock her out if she let it.  Her hold over him waned as she finished her ride, exhausted.  Her clit clenched with each shuddering aftershock, and she moaned into the great night as they came together in a deluge of cum and honey.
She could see Dalin regaining his clarity, becoming mind and body and soul once more, too tired to take up arms against her.  Anessa pressed her forehead to his and kissed his lips, softly, gently, hoping not to alarm him with the coppery taste of his own blood.  Then she kissed his forehead and hugged him close.
He pushed her back and went for that ruinous dagger, but she was faster.
Her teeth came down on his neck in a blur and he bellowed there, in that bear’s cave.  Louder than any man she’d taken in that same manner.
She drank her fill, you see, for she was always thirsty.
END :)

If you liked this story you might also like Spanked and Fucked.
Lisa always thought herself better than her roommates, but during a late night encounter she suddenly finds herself succumbing to a new form of punishment. Maybe all she needed was discipline... 12000 words of immersive, sizzling ADULT action. Warning: BDSM, spanking, humiliation, explicit and anal sex.

Excerpt:

Smack.
"Five! Thankyoucanihaveanother."
"Enunciate, speak up, remember what I told you, Lisa." Brian made a slow circle with his fingertip digging into her firm flesh before spanking her again, harder.
"Oohh, s-six. Thank you! Can I have another?"
"Manners, Lisa."
Smack.
"Sevunnn... Thank you, may I have another, please?"
Smack.
"Eight. Thangyu... thank you. May I have another, please?"
Smack.
"Aah-ahh... nine. Th-thank you. Mayaye hab another, please?"
Smack.
"Ten! Thank you. May Ihave another, puh-please?"
"You're doing well, Lisa," she was sure that he was saying her name louder than usual to make sure that they heard her. He passed his hand over her butt in a gentle rubbing motion. The prickles of pain receded. "You can rest for a minute, but I want you to kiss me."
Lisa turned to face him, her butt hanging off of the stool. Brian made little effort to slide toward her so she moved forward to meet him, sliding her arms around his neck to keep her balance. Until their lips met, she didn't realize how hungry for him she was. She let her tongue dip into his mouth, suckling on his in a wildly passionate kiss.
A minute went by and he pushed her back, gently, holding her by the shoulders. She presented herself again, announcing her predicament loudly. They continued from where they left off, Lisa counting spanks, thanking Brian, and then asking that he grant her another spank. He increased his intensity, sending ripples of pain through her bubble butt, causing her to clench around the plug and start to drip onto the wooden stool. Her exposed peach was over the lip of the stool and she could imagine thick, syrupy cum dribbling over the side while her housemates watched.
At the end of the next round of ten spanks, Lisa turned to Brian, expecting to repeat their kiss. She was hungry and waiting for him, and felt her thigh shift into the little puddle of juices on her seat. He bent forward, and she pressed herself to his lips, but he made no move to kiss her. His strong arms turned the stool so that she faced the countertop again, and then he started to spank her rapidfire. Lisa heard Kendra gasp from the top of the stairs.
"You don't have to speak up for these."
Instead of kissing for the full minute, he spanked her hard and fast, readjusting to make sure he made contact with the crest of her globes when she started squirming and twisting in pain. Once or twice he accidentally, or maybe purposely tapped the plug, and Lisa was reduced to panting and moaning on the counter while he worked her ass. She lost track of the count somewhere around seventy, but by then she was thrashing about as much as she could on the stool and had ditched biting her lip to keep quiet in favor of low, throaty moans.
"I'm going to start normally again."
Smack.
"Uunh... twinnyone. Thangyu, may I habanudder?"
Smack.
"Oohhh... mmm. Twinnytoo. Thangyu, may I habanudder?"
Smack.
"Fuck meeee. Puh, please."
Smack.
"Twinnythree. Thank you, please f-fuck me."
Smack.
"Yess... twinnyfour. Thangyu. Mmm... fuck me, please."
Smack.
"I want you to fuck me with your thick cock, please. I'm dripping wet for you. Slide it in my pussy and put your big, thick cock in my tight little butthole."
Kendra gasped again, and Derek definitely muttered a low, "Wow," at her frankness. But she couldn't take it anymore. Each swat against her red, abused, quivering asscheeks pushed the plug against her inner walls and sent a spark of uncomfortable, but incredible pleasure through her body. She couldn't be any more ready for him then she already was.
There was a moment of sheer anxiety as he pressed himself against her. The clatter of his belt buckle gave away what he was doing, and Lisa pressed her toes on the lower rung and pushed her backside further off of the stool. His warm hands took hold of her hips and he pressed his thick cock into her dripping tunnel.
"Mmm... yes, yes..." Lisa cried, trying to squirm her hips to sheathe more of him inside of her wet hole, but she was teetering on the edge of disaster, and she let him take her while she placed her faith in the granite countertop.

Other titles by N.S. Charles include:

Hot Sex With His Unexpected Visitor
Michael enjoys being alone, but when his sister asks if a friend can stay a few nights, his normally quiet lonely world is thrown for an interesting loop. The last time Michael saw Lacey she wasn't so... enticing. Can he resist his unexpected visitor? 9000 words of steamy sex comprise this ADULT work. Warning: Oral sex, thick cocks, masturbation, rimming, m/f sex and a lonely bachelor

The rest of the DORM SLUTS Series

Fucking the Professor
Eve has been longing after her professor for a long, long time, but she fears he hasn't noticed her dreamy stares. When she decides to up the ante and he catches her in the act, will she be able to convince him to succumb to her every desire? Warning: This ADULT work comprises 8000 words of hot action. It contains m/f, oral sex, explicit and anal sex, and a horny wife that likes to watch.

She Talked Me Into It!
When Desmond agreed to let his jerk of a roommate set him up on a blind date, he didn't think he'd be back in bed by ten, pretending to be asleep while he watched his roommate with a girl. Things heat up when the beautiful Summer sees right through him and guides him into something he's always wanted. A taste of his roommate. Warning: This 8800 word story contains explicit m/m/f situations.

About the Author

N. S. Charles is a former pizza "delivery expert" that serviced an area directly in front of and surrounding one of the most populated colleges in the nation.  If it's sexy, raunchy, gritty, dirty, or just plain funny, he's seen it unfold before him growing up in his almost sadistic college town.  He's chosen to serve up a few scenarios from his many tip-laden years of pizza service for your amusement.  Let's just say, not everyone wanted to pay for their pizzas in cash.

Follow me:
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Contact me:
nscharles.erotica@gmail.com

* * * * *
Letting Go
By
Polly J Adams

Copyright © 2012 by Polly J Adams

* * * * *

She went to him in the night.
She heard him moving about the house, sounds drifting down from upstairs. The rush and clunk of water in the ancient pipes, the bang of the bathroom cabinet, the buzz of his electric toothbrush. She heard all of these things, her senses fine-tuned. Alone in the house so much during the day, somehow things had become sharper for her, more intense. 
Some things, anyway. Others: dulled, blurred, indistinct.
By the time she reached the bedroom he was flat on his back, the lights out.
He hadn't bothered to draw the curtains and the room was lit by the cold blue light of the half moon.
She paused. 
The bed was like a landscape in the eerie light. A white sheet was twisted, half-covering him. His body looked as if it had been sculpted from marble, only a slight rise and fall of the chest betraying the illusion.
She almost turned and left, but she couldn't. 
She was drawn to him. 
She had to be here. 
She had to join him.
*
She lowered herself gently beside him, propping herself up on one elbow so that she could continue to study him.
His head was turned away from her, his dark brown hair looking black in the moonlight, the stubble thick, several days' worth. His chest was well-muscled, a thin covering of dark hair stretching from nipple to nipple, up to the notch where his breast-bones met, and down across a belly that had once been taut six-pack but was now just a little more softly-defined. At his belly-button the hair thickened and then was lost beneath the white twist of sheet. 
She reached for him, one finger, a long nail making gentle contact with his chest. She pulled her hand towards herself, drawing the nail through his chest hair. He twitched. She hadn't expected him to be so well out of it, so quickly. 
Her nail reached his nipple, scratched across it, and he twitched again, opened his mouth as if to speak, then sighed, settled again.
She moved her finger back to the centre of his chest, dragged the nail down over his ribs, his belly, and finally pushed down beneath the tangle of sheet. 
There, where the hair thickened yet more, the side of her hand came up against the base of his cock. She pressed the flat of her hand against him, teasing the beginning of his shaft, feeling it stiffen against her palm. 
She moved her hand farther down, took him in her grip, and squeezed and pulled as he grew in her hand. 
He always had been a grower and now he was long and hard and thick and she had to shift her grip, stop pulling downwards, start pulling up as his cock came to lie hard against his belly in her hand. 
She worked up and down his length, squeezing the shaft. She slid up to the head, pulling the foreskin back to reveal the hard head, already shiny and wet in the moonlight. 
Loosening her grip, she pressed him hard against his belly with her palm and started to roll his cock from side to side. He gasped, shifted his body, but still didn't turn to her. 
Moving back down, she cupped his balls, held them. His cock twitched and pulsed against the heel of her thumb, and she worked at it, his cock swinging freely from side to side, as hard as she had ever known it.
Finally, she dipped her head, allowed her hair to trail down over his ribs, his belly. 
So close, he must have been able to feel her hot breath on the wet head of his cock. She hesitated, his scent so intense in every breath she took. She drew the moment out and then, when she could hold back no longer, pressed her lips against the underside of his glans. 
Opening her mouth, her tongue swept across his cock and she started to lap, a kitten at milk. He groaned at this, and finally a hand swung down and gripped the back of her head firmly, her hair tangled in his fingers. 
This was all about him, she realised. At first it had not been so, she had wanted him, ached for his touch, for his hardness to be deep inside her, but now... now things were different, one of those imperceptible shifts. Now she wanted to give. Now she wanted him to have it all.
She took him deep and his body twisted and bucked. His sweet salt taste was an intense trigger for her, the spark for so many memories. Of the first time she had sucked him, a cheeky party blow job in the bathroom of a friend's house. The look in his eyes when he had realised what she was just about to do, what she was doing... what she had just done, as she rocked back on her knees, grinning and laughing and wiping at her mouth with the back of a hand. Of lazy Sunday mornings, of kissing her juices off his face and then working her way down to his eager, twitching cock. Of snatched moments, of lazy foreplay, of him coming... the way he came so hard in her throat or when she pulled back for him to spurt over her face or breasts. 
Now, she pulled her head clear and wanked him hard, two hands pulling and twisting, his cock slick with her saliva and his pre-come. 
His hands were at his sides now, fingers clawed, gripping the bedding. 
She took him in her mouth again, still wanking him, enveloping his glans in her mouth, flicking at it with her tongue. 
Her movements had become urgent, almost desperate, a savage intensity in every movement. 
He arched his back, pressed up, forcing himself briefly deeper and then she felt hot liquid suddenly filling her, pulse after pulse.
She pressed down on him, her lips around him, swallowing him deep. 
As he softened she drew him deeper, deeper, until his cock was entirely in her mouth, and still she sucked. Every last drop of come, sucking him dry, sucking him soft.
His body subsided, the tension ebbing away, leaving him. 
Finally, she released him, moved up to lie beside him, an arm across his chest, a leg across his hips, his head still turned away, his breathing slow, deep. 
*
He left the next morning without a word. 
Daylight in the room, suddenly harsh on her eyes and she was awake, aware that she was alone again. No sounds of another person in the house, just the wind in the eaves and the sound of an occasional passing car outside.
She could still taste him, still smell him. 
She rolled over onto his side of the bed and convinced herself she could feel his shape on the mattress.
*
He had dreamed again last night, and then woken with the heart-tearing rush of reality reasserting itself, the lurch from dream to real, the fall from her, from his love, to the truth that she was gone, dead, taken from him. 
He'd showered in cold water, scraping at the dried scabs of come on his belly. Guilty, as if he'd somehow betrayed her by dreaming of her again, of having a wet dream when all he felt in his heart and his head were a gaping, aching emptiness.
Dry, he'd pulled on whatever clothes came to hand, grabbed his keys and left the house in a rush. He couldn't stand it. Couldn't bear this any longer. 
Outside in the car, he slumped until his head came to rest against the steering wheel. He remembered her hand on him, pressing his erection hard against his belly. Christ, it was as if he could feel it even now! 
He remembered the wet sliding of her lips over the head of his dick, so familiar. 
He drove. Through the fringes of town, ignoring the usual turning that would take him to his office. 
He turned into the beach car park, an open grassy area that would close soon for the winter. Easing off, he came to park at the cliff edge, just a low wooden barrier separating him from the void. The cliff wasn't high here, but it was high enough. A good burst of acceleration would take him through that barrier. End it all. Why not?
He sat staring at the sea for an eternity. 
He couldn't go on like this.
Somehow he had to find a way to move on, or he would sink forever until it was too late.
*
She went to him in the night. By the time she reached the bedroom he was flat on his back, a twist of sheet across his middle, his body sharp and sculpted in the cold light of the moon.
She paused by the bed and looked down at him, taking in every detail, the shape of his chest, its gentle rise and fall, the dark body hair thickening towards his belly.
She was drawn to him.
She had to be here.
She had to join him.
She couldn't let him go.
Ever.
*
She woke in time to see him leave. 
In time to see the look on his face as he woke, looked down, saw the dried crust of their juices on his belly, his drained cock. The look... it was horror. Pain. Despair.
His eyes were sunken, set deep in heavy black shadows. 
He cried out, twisted his body away from her, stumbled through to the bathroom. 
She lay there in the shape he had made on the mattress. 
She knew he was blind to her, but now it sank in, twisted something in her chest, made her feel how he had looked. 
It wasn't fair. 
She needed him.
She couldn't let him go.
She wouldn't.
*
She did.
She had to.
She loved him and so she had no choice.
*
She went to him in the night, one last time.
She wore heels. High stilettoes, black, a delicate strap at the heel. Fishnet hold-ups, with deep lace tops. Tiny black and cream satin briefs, and a matching balconette bra. 
She stood at the foot of the bed, light from the half moon spilling in around her, lighting up his sleeping body. His chest was uncovered again, the sheet covering him from the ribs down. 
She reached over and tugged at the sheet.
It came free from his body and she took him in, savouring the sight. His figure was still lean and strong; he had one leg drawn up slightly, his cock lying to one side against his hip. 
He grunted, shifted, settled.
She reached down to one of his ankles, stroked, ran her knuckles up his calf. He twitched and shifted again. 
She stroked his other calf and watched as his cock started to stiffen.
"Hey," she said softly. "It's me."
Fingernails on the inside of that bent leg, scraping along the thigh.
He put a hand to his face and rubbed at the stubble, and then at his eyes.
Her fingers ran across his balls and back down the other thigh. 
At last, he moved his hand away from his face and opened his eyes.
"Wha...?"
"Shh."
She stood back, let him take her in.
He sat up, leaning on his hands, eyes wide.
"But..."
She leaned forward, took his chin in her hand and kissed him, dipping her tongue between his lips and then yielding as his tongue drove into her mouth. 
She pulled back, stood.
"You have to let me go," she said. "You can't go on like this. You just can't."
He started to raise a hand, then stopped.
"You can't."
She put a hand to his shoulder, gently pushed, and he lay back. 
She stood, looked at him stretched out on their bed, cock long and hard against his belly. 
"But..."
She slipped the briefs down, off, balled them and stuffed them into his mouth. She took his hands, pinned them above his head, gripping him hard by the wrists as she swung a long stockinged leg across him. 
Straddling him, she looked into his eyes and she saw that he knew, that he understood. 
She lowered herself, her pussy lips pressed hard against his shaft, parting, settling around him. She felt his hardness against her, and started to rock her hips slowly back and forward, sliding his length against her in gradually lengthening strokes until the head of his cock met her clitoris and then she slid back down over his entire length, slow and teasing.
He made to move, to bring a hand down, but she had him gripped firmly. Slowly, she stroked the length of his cock with her wet pussy, over and over again.
When he tried to move again she dipped her head, found one of his nipples with the tip of her tongue, flicked at it. And then she used her teeth, dragging them across the nipple, then closing on it until he gasped. 
For a moment, she settled with her pussy against his balls, the base of his shaft hard against her clit, and then she slid up along his length again and paused with the head of his cock against her opening. 
She kissed him, her lips meeting the satin briefs she had gagged him with. She closed her teeth on the fabric and pulled the briefs clear, spat them away, and suddenly his hands were free, too, one at the back of her head, pulling her to him, the other running down the curve of her ribs, her waist, the swell of her arse. 
A slight shift, a change of angle, and he was inside her, slowly sliding deeper, filling her like she'd never been filled before. 
She pulled her head back, away from his savage kiss, the metal taste of blood on her lips, cried out as he impaled her, up to his balls in her hot, wet cunt. 
Now, although she was still on top, he was taking control.
He moved both hands to her hips and held her hard as he drove his cock into her with urgent passion. Each time he buried himself, she felt a rising pressure, a growing wave, and she knew that she would come soon.
She started to rock and twist her hips in time to his movements, her breasts crushed against his chest, her mouth close to his, her hair draped down around his face like a curtain. 
So close now... so close.
She put a finger to his lips, calming him, and he paused, deep inside her, cock hard and throbbing and so close to letting go. 
She pressed down on him, slow and hard, every tiny movement magnified, both of them right at the edge. 
His mouth opened, he ground his head back against the pillow, the moment drawn out as if forever. 
The first pulse of hot come deep inside her pushed her over the edge and it was as if her whole body spasmed as she came, each pulse of his come bringing on another wave of her own climax, until they slumped, spent, in each other's arms.
Some time later, she moved. 
Again, he made as if to speak but she stilled him with a finger to his lips. 
Shifting to her knees, she turned, found his now soft cock, and took it into her mouth, licking and sucking until her juices were gone from him.
She hadn't expected him to respond again so soon, but he started to stiffen in her mouth and suddenly he was hard again. She drove her head up and down, savage and brutal in her passion, and almost immediately one last pulse of come filled her mouth. 
*
She stood at the foot of the bed for one last time and looked at his naked body, sculpted into landscape shapes in the light of the half moon.
"You'll always be in my heart," he told her. "You'll always be in my dreams."
"I know, my love," she said softly. "But you have to let me go."
He nodded, and he did, he let her go, but always, a small part of her would remain, forever his.
END :)

If you liked this story, you might also like The Touch.
Ruth lives in the Hall with the mysterious Sisters. They have powers, and they have ways of influencing the world. They have ways of getting what they want. When Ruth sees Saul working with the stonemasons on the village church, young, stripped to the waist, fit and tanned, she knows what she wants. Refusing to use her own magical powers, Ruth sets out to win Saul on her own, without any help from sisters Anna and Esme. But if she can't use supernatural Charms and Enchantments, just what can she do to make him hers?

Excerpt:

Back in the village... he hadn't expected this.
The first streets had been quiet, but now... now a woman hung out of an upper-storey window, topless. Naked for all he knew. "Hey, lover boy," she called to him, words slurring. "Come here, lover boy."
Up against a wall, lovers tangled. Two women kissing hard, legs tangled, grinding. As he watched, one tore open the other's top and dropped her head to suck and bite at a dark nipple.
He hurried on, only to find a group of women in the street near to the inn, blocking his way.
They saw him and it was as if a pack of predators had spotted prey.
"Hey, Saul," said one of them, a woman he half-recognised. "Saul, you going to show us what you got? Where's a man when you want one? Off fucking the witches of the Hall. Well we can all play at that now, can't we? Saul? Saul? Come here, Saul."
Buffeted from woman to woman, he tried at first to treat it as a joke and laugh it off, but they kept blocking his way and so he tried to force his way through.
Just a short distance to go to the inn and refuge, a door he could barricade himself behind until this madness evaporated.
One of the women caught his shirt and pulled, ripping it, and the sight of bare flesh seemed to drive them into a frenzy.
Another grabbed his belt, and then there were hands all over him, scratching and stroking, hands on his chest, on his arse, hands squeezing his cock through his trousers, hands buried in his hair. He would have fallen, but all the clutching hands supported him, and suddenly he was being lifted, carried at waist height in the middle of the throng.
Trousers parted, hands pulled at his hard cock and suddenly he feared they might pull it right off. Hands... hands... he didn't know how many hands, pulling and squeezing and scratching as they carried him.
A gunshot froze the scene, and Saul was half-dropped, half-released so that he could manage to extricate himself, to stand.
He was wearing only open, torn trousers now, and one boot.
He forced his way through the crowd and there was Rosie, his saviour, standing at the side door of the inn with a shotgun pointed skywards, smirking at his rapidly dwindling erection.
"Get inside, Saul," she said softly. "You really don't want to be out on a night like this. Not if you want to stay in one piece. Not with half the village out for a revenge fuck while their men are up at the Hall with the sisters."
(continues...) 
Purchasing links on Polly's website.

Other titles by Polly J Adams include:

Three Times a Virgin
Jess likes to explore her sexuality; she likes to play and she's a girl who finds it very hard to say "no". Her husband Adam is less adventurous. He likes to fantasise. He encourages Jess in her sexual adventures and loves to hear about them afterwards. Then, chatting one night in bed, Jess realises that Adam might be open to a little more than just planning and hearing about her exploits. Maybe it's time for Adam to get a little bit more involved.
Purchasing links on Polly's website.

The Rules of the Game
Jack and Karen live complicated lives and rarely get time alone together. So when Jack is called away on business on their anniversary there is a price to pay. Karen sends him a series of messages on his phone and he has to follow her instructions to the letter if he is to win - he has to play by the rules of the game.
Purchasing links on Polly's website.

Knee-tremblers: The collected stories
All five stories in bestselling erotica author Polly J Adams' Knee-tremblers series, brought together in a single volume.
Knee-tremblers: where one moment of madness leads to a passionate affair, a country club gangbang and much more... Five sizzlingly explicit tales of oral sex, group sex and much, much more:

New girl Katie has been keeping her husband under wraps. Maybe she knew all along that I'm a bitch, a slut - maybe that's why she'd been hiding him away. What we did that night was wrong, I know. A snatched moment away from the party, a moment of madness. That's all it was. But once you've tasted forbidden fruit, is there ever any going back?
As I grow closer to Katie's husband, I grow closer to Katie, too. I try really hard to be good. But I'm just not that strong. And I'm a bitch. Maybe sleeping with other men would help? Lots of them. All at once. Or maybe not...
Knee-tremblers is the passionate and very explicit account of a headlong journey of sexual exploration and the growing, changing relationship between three people, as a one-night stand turns into something far, far more.

"I've just read the first book and I loved it" Katie Cramer, author of Rip Off My Panties

These stories are also available as separate, standalone ebooks.

Purchasing links on Polly's website.

About the Author

Polly J Adams comes from a comfortably middle-class background, brought up in Surrey by a mother heavily involved in charity work and a father who was a high-flier in the financial world before he retired. Bit of a shame for them that she writes about sex, then!
As well as writing scripts for adult movies, Polly is a bestselling erotica author. Her works include Bad Again, Private Party, The Touch, and the popular Knee-tremblers series.
You can find out more about Polly and her writing on her website, on http://www.facebook.com/pollyjadamswriter and on Twitter as @PollyJAdams.

* * * * *
Pack Initiation
By
Serena St Claire

Copyright © 2012 by Serena St Claire

* * * * *

Caleb sighed as he wandered through the forest. He had nowhere to go and he was more or less wandering aimlessly. This was a journey of self discovery. Caleb was a werewolf, but he had only discovered this recently. Now, he was outcast. He couldn’t go back to living with the humans. They wouldn’t understand me he thought to himself. It’s funny to think that just a month ago I was a normal kid. Literally my biggest worry was if I was gonna miss a deadline or if our football team was going to win the game this weekend. Fuck. Why the fuck did this happen to me? His moodiness was not improved by the fact that he was actually quite hungry.
These new werewolf features were new to Caleb, and he was still getting used to them. He felt like a kid again, with no control over his limbs. Sure, he was now a much faster runner and could leap and bound at a speed the ATV in his human life couldn’t even come close to matching, but he ran the ATV into trees a lot less than he did his limbs. He’d managed to catch a rabbit the other day, that had lasted him a day or so, but he was hungry again. He could eat the berries, sure, but he didn’t have an appetite for fruit anymore. He craved meat, he craved it badly. 
However, worse than the lack of food was the pure loneliness Caleb felt. As a human, he had never really minded being alone all that much. He had some close friends, some very close friends even, but he never really was the social butterfly that a lot of people he knew were. He didn’t mind spending at least a few nights a week alone in his place after work. He found it relaxing. Now that he was a wolf, however, Caleb felt lonelier than ever. He wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it’s because I don’t have anyone to talk to about this. At least when I hung out with guys like Mitch I could talk to them. But it felt like more than that. Now that he was a wolf, Caleb felt that loneliness spill deep into his bones. He craved interaction, he needed it. It feels as though there’s a part of my soul that’s missing, and that the only way to fill that hole in my body is to belong to a group. The loneliness was draining. I just don’t have any fucking energy.
Caleb found a tree trunk and sat down on it. Small bugs were crawling along it, into a hole leading to the rotten interior of the mossy branch. Caleb grabbed as many bugs as he could and shoved them into his mouth. After a few mouthfuls he knew he had satiated his stomach for at least a few hours.
Fuck, I can’t keep living like this. Caleb thought. It’s insane. I’m going to die of hunger before I figure out how my body works. This must be what it’s like to be an animal in the wild. I’m tempted to go raid the Costco meat department, but security would probably kick me out as soon as I walked in. He smiled to himself, thinking about the reaction his furry, wolf-like body would get if he wandered into Costco. They always say people in New York who are crazy just get ignored by everyone, maybe I should try over there. I’d fit right in by the sounds. Caleb looked at the tree trunk, now devoid of any bugs. You’re going nuts man. You’re going completely nuts.
Caleb got up and tried hunting. He spotted a doe, but she heard him first and ran off. He would have been able to keep up with her, but he couldn’t turn quickly enough to avoid the trees. Caleb felt like crying. Then, just to top things off, it started raining. Caleb found a thick cedar tree and lay underneath it. He fell asleep dreaming of the warm bed he used to sleep in. 
The next night, Caleb woke up feeling a little bit better. The day started off well enough. He found a tree full of berries that he forced down. Sure, they didn’t taste nearly as good as meat, but they were filling. 
As he wandered through the forest, he still couldn’t shake that feeling of loneliness. Suddenly, he heard a huge roar. I know I haven’t been eating but there is no way that was my stomach. Caleb thought as he ran though the forest to see what was going on. Eventually he reached the small clearing where the roaring was coming from. Holy. Shit. Caleb thought. Not thirty feet from where he was standing, a wolf was taking on a bear. Then Caleb realized it wasn’t a wolf, it was a werewolf like him. Wow, I’m not the only one. The bear was definitely winning the fight. He’d pinned the wolf underneath him and was biting the flesh off the wolf’s shoulder. Maybe it was the extreme loneliness Caleb felt in his bones, but he felt an affiliation with the other werewolf. He immediately ran forward, howling, and jumped onto the bear’s back.
The bear, not expecting this sudden attack, let out another roar. He stood up just enough for the other werewolf to get out from under him. 
“Run friend, run” Caleb cried out to him. But the other wolf stayed. He jumped up and scratched the bear’s eyes with his claws. The bear howled and stood again, which threw Caleb off his back. Caleb ran forward and bit the bear’s right leg, causing him to all out fall backwards. The other wolf jumped onto the bear and ripped its throat. The bear’s roaring stopped.
The other wolf looked at Caleb with suspicion. “Where do you come from, wolf?”
Caleb had no idea how to respond. “I don’t know” 
“What do you mean, you don’t know? What pack you belong to?” 
“I don’t have a pack. I don’t have anyone.”
“You don’t have a pack? How do you survive?”
“I don’t, really. I’ve only been a wolf for about a month. I’m barely surviving as it is.”
The other wolf looked Caleb up and down. His story was well served by the fact that Caleb’s body, muscular as it was, lacked in the fat department. He didn’t have an ounce of it on him. 
“Well man, what’s your name?”
“Caleb.”
“I’m Alex, Caleb. We got us some meat here, why don’t we have us some dinner while it’s still warm.”
Caleb nodded. The two of them dug into their meal. Caleb was famished. The bear was easily big enough for the two of them. Even for Caleb, who hadn’t had a good meal in a while.
When he was finished, Caleb sighed and leaned back. “Maaaaan I needed that.”
Alex looked at him. “So you really don’t belong anywhere, do you?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Well look man, you saved my life. That doesn’t count for nothing. I shouldn’t have been out here by myself and the bear caught me by surprise. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be dead. And frankly, if you don’t find a pack soon, you will be too.”
Caleb shrugged. “I don’t have a clue how to find a pack to belong to. I’m pretty much a terrible werewolf. I can’t even hunt properly, no one would want me even if I found them.”
“I dunno man, you’re brave. You proved that by helping me out. I owe you one, that’s for sure.”
“Don’t worry about it”
“Come back to the pack with me. They won’t trust you right away. I’m definitely not a head honcho or anything, I think I proved that by coming out here by myself which was a pretty dumbass thing to do. But my word does count for something.”
Caleb was stunned. Here he was, being offered a chance to be part of a pack. This is exactly that key I was missing. All that loneliness, it was all from not belonging to a pack.
“Yeah sure, that sounds awesome.”
“It won’t be easy. As I said, I’m not a higher up. The alphas are going to wanna make sure you’re not some sort of spy from another pack, or just generally not gonna be loyal.”
“No way man, I’m pretty damn desperate here. I’d die for a pack that would take me in right now, because I’m pretty sure I would literally owe them my life.”
Alex laughed. “That’s the right attitude to have there Caleb.” Caleb smiled. His stomach was full, he was speaking with another wolf and he had a tentative invite into a pack. He would do anything to be allowed in. 
Eventually, Caleb and Alex went back towards Alex’s camp. On the way there, Alex taught Caleb a few tips about controlling his new body. “Nah, you can’t just jump and assume you’re going to land somewhere safe. You have to stop looking like a human, 10 feet in front of you. You have to look a hundred feet in front. If there’s a tree anywhere in the 100 feet in front of you when you start running, if you go straight you’re gonna hit it. If there’s a tree there, you gotta start running at an angle to avoid it. Practice darting through the trees, turning at the last possible step to avoid it. That’s how you’re going to become a good runner.”
Caleb practiced. Sure enough, he started being able to dart trees pretty easily. He found that he really enjoyed Alex’s company. The wolf was fun to be around. They got to around a mile from the camp, and Alex told him to stop. “Stay here, I’ll come back for you. I gotta go tell the alphas about you and they’d have my head if I just brought you right in. I might be a while, but just hang out here.”
Caleb did as ordered. He stood around and practiced his new darting skills. He was thrilled. I wonder what I’ll have to do to prove my loyalty. I hope it’s not too painful. I’ve gotten a tattoo before, that was pretty bad. As long as it doesn’t hurt that much, I guess. That’d be good.
Finally, Alex came back. “Ok man, they’re gonna give you a chance. I had to go balls to the wall for you, but they will try.”
“I appreciate it man, I really do.”
Caleb followed Alex as they went towards the camp. When they got there, Caleb was awed. There were about a dozen wolves, all of different sizes, with different shades of fur and everything. Some were blonde, some were black and there were all kinds of in-between shades. Caleb himself was a lighter wolf, with sandy blonde fur. It was the same colour as his hair had been when he was in human form. 
Caleb followed Alex past the wolves and into the forest. A small band of cedar trees formed a small semi-circle in which there were another four wolves. They were all quite dark, two of them had completely black fur and the other two dark brown. They were all tall, with dark eyes and very muscular. The one in the middle, one of the dark brown furred ones, was obviously the leader. He stepped forward. Oh man, what did I get into? Caleb thought to himself. Alex left them without a word.
“I am told your name is Caleb.” Said the tall dark leader.
Caleb nodded. He didn’t trust his voice enough to answer.
“You want to join our pack.”
Another nod.
“Are you loyal to another pack?”
This time Caleb shook his head no.
“Will you be loyal to this pack until death?”
“Yes, I will” Caleb managed to squeak out. He felt it was important he say those words out loud.
“I’m the alpha of the pack, Riley. Will you be loyal to me until death?”
“I will yes.”
The wolf smiled. “Alex vouches for you. He says you saved his life. For this reason, we will be doing your initiation into the pack here, in private.”
“Thank you.” Caleb wondered exactly what this initiation was going to entail.
“Now get on your knees.
All of a sudden Caleb understood. Apprehensively, he obeyed. He had never done anything like this before. He was definitely scared, but he desperately wanted to belong to this pack. 
Once on all fours, one of the outlying wolves who hadn’t said anything came forward. He stuck his cock towards Caleb, and Caleb’s hot breath on the wolf’s cock made it stiffen in front of Caleb’s very eyes. Caleb had seen cocks before in the change room and also his brother’s, but never one this big. Even erect Caleb knew that this wasn’t any normal sized cock. Eventually, it hit Caleb’s chin. Understanding what he was to do, Caleb licked the cock. He licked saliva all over, gently. Then, he opened his mouth and took as much of the cock as he could. He closed his lips over the now completely erect wolf cock and started to suck. He took the cock in and out, going deeper with every suck. He teased and tantalized the cock with his tongue. 
Then the wolf spoke. “Will you always obey your leaders in this pack?”
Caleb moaned a yes through the cock in his mouth while nodding. 
Something awakened inside Caleb and he felt his own cock harden. He realized he was loving this. He was completely being turned on by sucking this wolf’s cock. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to act on it, so he resisted touching himself, as hard as it was to do.
Suddenly, he felt another wolf come over and stand to his right. This one’s cock, at least the same size as the other wolf’s, was already hard. With his right hand, Caleb reached towards his penis and rubbed off the precum. The touch of his hand against his erect cock sent fire up his spine. He could feel his cock throbbing as it begged for more. He took the precum covered hand and used it to lube up the penis to his right. He started jacking off the second wolf. 
“Will you do whatever you have to in order to protect your brothers in the pack, even if it costs you your life?” came the question from the second wolf.
Caleb moaned and nodded again.
Then came the third wolf, the third one who hadn’t spoken. The only one left still watching and not involved was the main wolf, the alpha. The third wolf stood to the left, his cock also erect. Caleb did the same thing with his left hand. His own cock was throbbing but he no longer had any hands to touch it with even if he had wanted to. 
“Will you ever betray you pack, or let a wolf from another pack see you?”
Caleb moaned a no, and shook his head. The sensation of the moaning coupled with the head shake made the wolf Caleb was sucking off growl in appreciation.
Caleb was on his knees, sucking off one wolf while jacking off another two. Just then, Caleb could feel the last wolf, the alpha, moving behind him. His movements were slow and deliberate. Suddenly, Caleb felt something poking against his asshole. He knew it was the last wolf. He breathed in, sucking on the cock as he felt the hard, long cock of the alpha plunge into his ass. 
It was a senation unlike any Caleb had ever felt before. He momentarily forgot everything else as he was blinded by unimaginable pain. It took everything Caleb had to avoid screaming. After a few seconds, the pain began to subside. It was replaced with a new sensation. He was being pulled wide open. Riley, the alpha, started to thrust in and out. Every thrust was like a wave of sensation to Caleb. He thought his brain was going to explode simply from getting too much sensory information. It was still painful, still horribly painful, but the pain was also coupled with a strange sort of pleasure. And it was the pleasure, not the pain, that was getting greater with each thrust from Riley’s monster wolf cock.
After a few moments Caleb remembered from the growls of the other wolves that he still had to finish three other cocks. He started sucking and rubbing some more. Every single orifice he had was filled by a wolf. He was doing four of them, all at once. His own penis was begging for someone, something to take care of it. At this point he was far past caring what or who. It was throbbing, the thought of release among the most desperate desires Caleb had ever had. 
“Will you follow me, Riley, as the alpha wolf in this pack, until the day you die or until I stop leading this pack?” came the growled question from behind him. Once again, Caleb moaned a yes and nodded his head.
The moaning was getting to be too much for the wolf at the front of him. The wolf’s cock was on fire, and he could feel the release coming. He knew that he was only minutes away from it, and he desperately wanted that release. A tingling sensation ran through his veins, leading to his cock. He looked down at the young new pup who was sucking his cock, watching his soft, young lips wrapped around his erect, throbbing member. He could feel those lips sliding up and down along his shaft, and when he answered questions the vibrations from his moaning made his cock even harder. 
Finally, the wolf couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed Caleb’s head and started thrusting against it. He needed that release so badly and he needed it now. Finally, it was time. With a loud growl, he came inside the new pup, who dutifully swallowed every last drop. Wave after wave of pleasure came over the wolf as he reached his climax and shot hot seed deep into the throat of the pack’s new addition. 
Caleb dutifully sucked up every drop of cum off the wolf’s cock. He didn’t dare let a single drop spill. He sucked it clean before the wolf finally removed his cock and just walked off. 
Caleb continued to jack off the other two wolves, while the alpha behind him was still pounding his ass. Caleb’s cock was burning and he had no idea if he would be allowed to cum himself. The thought of not being allowed to was so painful he tried to block it out of his head.
Then, the wolf to his left started grunting. Caleb felt the cock throbbing even more than it had, and starting rubbing even faster. He knew it wasn’t long now, and sure enough, a minute later the wolf was spurting cum all over Caleb’s hand and arm. 
Almost immediately afterwards, the wolf to Caleb’s left did the same thing. Spurt after spurt of hot wolf cum landed on Caleb’s arm, hand and the ground below. When they were done, both wolves walked off as well, as had done the first one. 
It was only Caleb and Riley now. The initial pain of Riley’s huge cock in Caleb’s virgin ass had mostly subsided into a dull ache. He felt the pleasurable sensation much more strongly, and focused even more on it now that he had no other cocks to tend to.
Now that Riley was alone he started thrusting harder and faster. Caleb could barely breathe, and he certainly couldn’t think. His brain was completely overloaded with sensation. He just let himself be taken along for the ride while wishing he could get himself off.
“You wanna touch your cock don’t you there?” Riley asked.
“Yes... yes... oh yes” Caleb replied, desperate for the permission he so craved.
“Well” Riley continued, “if you make it through until I cum without cumming yourself, you’re welcome to do whatever you want to yourself. If you cum first, you don’t get to be a part of the pack.”
This was definitely not what Caleb was hoping for. It seemed like every single nerve ending he had ended at his penis, and every single one of them was begging for touch. It took everything Caleb had to think about other things, to focus on the ass fucking he was getting.
Caleb could feel Riley’s cock pulsating inside of him. The wolf would finish soon, and then Caleb could have his release. But first, it was Riley’s turn. 
Riley was enjoying this fucking immensely. He had a virgin ass. He didn’t have to be told, he knew one when he fucked it. The sensations were so much stronger in a tight ass, an ass that had obviously never been fucked before. Every sensation was so much stronger, everything was so much tighter. He looked down at the puckered asshole he was fucking, watched as it changed size, constantly closing on his cock. Finally, he hit the release. His legs felt like jelly as the sensation of orgasm passed over him. Riley howled into the night sky as spurts of hot seed flew out of him and deep into Caleb’s ass. Pulse after pulse shot from his cock and he howled again. Every muscle in his body was tense, and yet felt eternally relaxed. Finally, the orgasm passed and Riley pulled out of Caleb’s ass. The four wolves had completely dominated him. Plus he had listened when Riley said not to get himself off. Caleb would be a good, subservient part of the group.
As soon as Caleb felt the hot cum of the alpha wolf inside his ass, he knew he could touch his cock. It barely took more than that one touch for Caleb to spurt all over the forest floor. His penis had begged for release for so long that it felt like Caleb had three orgasms in a row. He had never felt this drained before. He couldn’t think, he definitely couldn’t stand, and so when Riley pulled his cock out of Caleb’s ass, Caleb couldn’t do anything except collapse onto the ground from exhaustion.
Eventually he opened his eyes and saw Riley looking down at him.
“That was quite the experience, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah... yeah, you could say that.”
“Welcome to the pack, little pup. I’ll give you a while to get your bearings back together, then we’ll go introduce you to the rest of your pack mates. Your brothers.”
END :)

If you liked this story, you might also like His First Werewolf.
After getting a big promotion at work, Alex decides to go to the bar to celebrate. However, while stumbling back home he gets hit over the head and wakes up tied to a bed. A werewolf comes in and gives Alex a bonus he'll never forget. Warning: this super sexy, 3000 word gay werewolf story contains monster werewolf cock, oral and anal sex and moonlight orgasms that will make you want more.

Excerpt:

When Alex woke up, he had a splitting headache. He closed his eyes and groaned softly. He couldn’t think. He had no idea where he was and his arms and legs wouldn’t really move. Eventually, he opened his eyes. Wherever he was, it was dark. His eyes slowly adjusted to the low light and Alex managed to get a bit of a look around. He was tied to a bed, arms and legs against the bedpost, which was why he couldn’t move his limbs. The room was barely furnished, with just the bed he was laying on and a small lamp in the corner which was missing its shade. The light was off, and the only light entering the room came from the window above his head, the full moon giving the room at least a little bit of light. Alex was suddenly gripped with overwhelming fear. I’ve been kidnapped. Oh my God, I’ve been kidnapped. Someone has taken me here and tied me up. Holy shit. What is going to happen to me? These thoughts and more ran through Alex’s head. He tried moving around, he tried getting out of the ropes. Nothing worked. Alex was trapped.
Suddenly, he heard a door open somewhere in the distance. His blood froze. This is it, I’m going to die. I wish I’d said goodbye to my mom. Suddenly, a shape stood in the doorway. It looked human in a way, but it also looked too big and hairy to be human. The shape walked over to the lamp and flicked the switch. The whole room was bathed in 50 watts of light, illuminating everything. Alex’s eyes adjusted to the light, and he gasped when he saw the creature who had kidnapped him. 
It was definitely the trucker guy from the bar earlier. Alex recognized the beautiful, straight black hair, the jet black eyes and the hard mouth. But this guy definitely wasn’t human. His hands were more like claws, he was covered in hair from head to toe and completely naked. His beard had somehow gotten longer, his eyes darker and his hair longer as well. Alex stared. He was looking at a wolf. He was a werewolf. He had to be, there was no other explanation. 
“Welcome, young one, to my home” the werewolf started. 
“What... what...” was the only reply Alex could muster.
“Oh don’t worry, you’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you.”
This reply didn’t really help Alex relax. He had still been kidnapped and tied to a bed.
“See, the thing is, tonight worked really well for both of us” the werewolf continued. “You were celebrating a nice promotion and probably want to have some fun. I’m on the first night of my transformation as a werewolf, and I need some prey.”
“Some... prey?” Alex was finally able to ask, terrified about the implications of the word.
The wolf laughed, it came out as half laugh, half howl. “Don’t worry, not that kind of prey. I just need to release some energy. I’ll let you go when we’re done.”
The wolf came over to Alex. He started running his hands down Alex’s body. Alex suddenly realized he was completely naked. The wolf’s touch on Alex made his skin tingle. He sighed deeply. The wolf, as crazy as this was, was actually pretty sexy. Alex couldn’t deny it. If he was telling the truth, this could be a good night, despite the kidnapping. 
The wolf’s hands slid down to Alex’s ass. He stroked, gently teasing. Alex could feel himself stiffen as the hard, tough hands gently stroked his smooth skin. 
The wolf gently kissed Alex all over his body, the wetness where his saliva hit sent tingles though Alex’s skin. 
Suddenly, the wolf completely ripped the ropes from Alex’s legs and flipped him over. Alex’s now-hard cock stood at attention. His arms were intertwined above his head. The werewolf climbed over him and straddled his head. The wolf’s cock was now in front of Alex, who licked his lips and happily started sucking the cock. This was the best promotion present he could hope for. A strong, tough, half-man, half-wolf. Alex licked the cock from base to tip and it started to stiffen. It got bigger and bigger, the biggest Alex had ever seen. It was incredible. His eyes widened as he realized he would have to take this huge cock into his mouth. 

Other titles by Serena St Claire include:

Alice’s First Werewolf
When Alice comes home one day she finds her sexy roommate Mike being attacked by a strange group of men. But something's wrong with Mike. He doesn't seem quite... human. Will Alice leave while she still can or will they both give in to their primal urges? This 3000 word story contains dubious consent, oral sex, blood and monster cock.

Alice Fucks the Pack
Six months after her strange encounter with Mike, Alice goes back to the old apartment because she can't stop thinking about him. No one is home, and she goes to the forest to think, where she finds Mike... but the rest of his pack is also there. This 3000 word story contains dubious consent, group sex, oral sex, jacking off and werewolves. Very, very hot story.

Punished by the Alpha
Tyler, the alpha of the pack, wakes up one night to his entire pack being attacked. But who betrayed them? When he finds out and the wolf responsible comes crawling back, Tyler has to show him who's the boss, and what happens when you betray your pack. Warning: This 3300 word story contains dubious consent, oral sex, anal sex, monster werewolf cocks and some amazing orgasms.

Becoming an Alpha
Peter longs to be an alpha as he sees the influence of his pack leader. A former pack leader tells Peter the secret to becoming an alpha & wants him to try it out on Martin, a new addition to the pack. Will Peter manage to dominate Martin, taking his first step to truly becoming alpha? Warning: this story contains big werewolf cocks, oral and anal sex, light domination and some explosive orgasms

About the Author

Serena St Claire is a regular office worker who spends her evenings writing the erotic stories that you love!

* * * * *
Riding the Snake
By
Victoria Scarlett

Copyright © 2012 by Victoria Scarlett

* * * * *

“Krana's village sends him up a mountain with an offering to their god.  What they don't tell him is that he is the offering...”
***
Krana stumbled over a vine in the mountain path and cursed loudly, his voice echoing in the chill air.  He hopped to a rock on the side of the windy path and sat to examine his foot, placing his heavy backpack next to the rock.  He peeked through a hole in his boot and concluded that nothing was broken, and he took an extra minute to rest before continuing his trek.
He stood, debating whether to continue up the mountain or to return down to his village.  As the son of a previous mayor, he had been chosen to deliver this autumn’s offering to the god who lived on the highest mountain in the region.  Assuming he survived, he would receive enough money from the village to live through at least the winter.  And, Krana thought, maybe he could even afford a pair of decent shoes.
He stretched his back until it cracked.  He could see his breath now and he cursed again, wishing he had demanded some money or warm clothes as a down payment.  Krana slung the clunky backpack over his shoulder and stepped onto the path, trudging onwards up the mountain.
The sun began to set and the air grew even chillier, and Krana prayed he was close to ending his three-day journey.  Suddenly he stopped and yelped, kicking one leg in the air.  Something dropped from his pants and writhed on the ground.  A snake straightened itself out and slithered away, disappearing just as suddenly as it had appeared.
Krana gaped where the snake had been.  He didn’t care much for snakes and paranoia set in, but he forced himself to continue up the path, studying the ground to make sure no other snakes crawled up his leg.
It was almost night when he reached the mountain’s summit, out of breath and praying he could take off the heavy backpack for good.  It was dark enough that he didn’t notice the moving ground right away, and he realized too late that he was surrounded by a large writhing mass of snakes.  They wrapped around his legs and rose to his hips, and he struggled in vain to pull them off.
Suddenly the mountain illuminated and Krana had to cover his eyes.  He felt the heavy reptiles fall from his body and he blinked rapidly, growing used to the bright light.  The summit was a large flat rock with some sort of man-made structure at the far end, and tall thin torches lining the clearing.  Krana walked slowly into the summit, a couple of snakes escorting him at a distance.
He startled when he saw a man standing in the center of the summit.  The man had narrow horizontal eyes, snow white skin, and black hair that reflected the remainder of the early spring sun.  His hands were held out in front of his stomach, palms facing each other and his fingertips pressed together.
There was something odd about the man, and Krana realized that this must be the human form of the god his village prayed to.  Krana approached him, stopping at a safe distance to slide off his backpack, placing it in front of him and bowing his head deeply.
Krana cleared his throat.  “Oh great Naaza, on behalf of my village, I ask that you grant us a great harvest this autumn.”
He hadn’t been instructed to say anything else, and he waited for some sort of response.  He slyly glanced up, surprised that the god hadn’t moved except for a slight upwards tick of his lips.
“When I asked for a virgin, you are not what I expected.”
“Ah, forgive me,” flew from Krana’s mouth before he realized what Naaza had said.
The god gave a small shrug.  “Oh well.  You are suitable.”
He dropped a hand, breaking his elegant pose to brush his fingertips on Krana’s face.  Krana flew from his touch, falling on his backside and scooting away.  His heart raced and he doubted he had heard what he thought he heard.
“Wh-what did you say?” he asked in a faltering voice.
The god stood with his hand out where Krana had been kneeling.  “You are my offering this year.  I required something more, what with the extra rain and bountiful crops I granted your village.  That sort of blessing required more energy than normal, and thus, I requested something outside the norm.”  He glided towards Krana under his ground-length tunic hem.  “I know many of my comrades request virgins.  It seemed like a nice change from the usual shiny rocks and whatnot.”
Krana scrambled to his feet, brushing his pants and making sure a good amount of distance remained between them.  Attempting to placate Naaza, he said, “Your Greatness, if you desire a woman virgin, please allow me to return to my village and bring you one.”
“It will take a week until you return.  I will not survive that long.”  Naaza swung his hand back, motioning to his temple.  “I insist.”
Krana’s heart sank.  If he rejected the great god, his village would be doomed.  He bent over and picked up the large backpack he had carried through the mountains and clomped one foot in front of the other towards the temple.
It had been built into the side of the mountaintop, blending in with the peaks.  Ornate carvings covered the facade and depicted the four seasons, and with what Krana assumed to be Naaza’s true form looming over the tiny stone villagers.
Krana stopped walking at the top of the stone steps.  A wriggling group of snakes lay in front of his feet, and he had no desire to step through them.  Naaza silently appeared at his side, nearly giving him a heart attack.  The snakes untangled themselves and slithered out of sight, and Naaza walked in front of Krana, leading him into his home.
Krana stepped past the open wooden doors and took in the unusual sight.  The entire temple was one large room and the wall on the mountainside was half carved away, containing a roaring fire taller than he.  Shelves carved along the walls contained centuries’ worth of diamonds and rubies, refined swords and shields, marble carvings and metal sculptures, and riches Krana couldn’t even begin to identify.
Naaza waved his hand and a red velvet chair moved out from a corner.  Snakes wrapped around its legs pulled it towards the fireplace, stopping near the thick fur rug covering the stone floor in front of the blaze, and slithering out of sight once again.
“You may prepare yourself,” the god said.  “Tonight will be the coldest night of the season thus far.”
Krana set the backpack on the floor near a shelf and approached Naaza and the chair.  “I don’t have anything to prepare,” he said, still not quite sure what he meant.
A tiny smile crawled across Naaza’s thin white lips.  In the blink of an eye he was in front of Krana, who was eye-level with his shoulders, and he raised his hands so his fingertips were resting gently on Krana’s jawbone.  The thick wooden doors slammed shut, blocking the light from the setting sun.
Krana forced himself to stay still, his eyes boring holes in the god’s chest.  Naaza wrapped his arms around Krana’s shoulders, pressing him tight against himself.  “It is very cold here,” he said softly.  “Oh yes, your village shall have a very successful harvest.”
“Your Greatness, what do you expect me to do?” Krana said, his voice steady but muffled by Naaza’s tunic.
“Keep me warm, so that I may survive another winter.”
His hand slithered under Krana’s shirt, his cold touch immediately producing goose bumps on his back.  Krana shivered, and despite his instincts his blurted out, “I’m not a virgin!”
The hand on his back stopped moving.
“I, I have been with a woman.  With a lot of them,” he admitted.
It seemed like forever until both of Naaza’s chilled hands resumed movement on his back.  “No matter.  I do not know why the virgin part is a requirement.”  He rested his chin on top of Krana’s head.  “The gods are a strange crowd.”
“Be that as it may, I truly do not think I am a good companion,” Krana said.
“You are warm, and that is all I require.”
Naaza moved his head off Krana’s, his slanted eyes studying his face.  Krana doubted his abilities to please him; but really, keeping someone warm for a night was something any simple human could do.
Naaza opened his mouth and pushed himself on Krana’s.  Krana obediently opened his own and responded, not daring to directly cross the god.  Naaza wrapped his arms tightly around him, one hand sliding under the top of his pants.
He kept his new companion in his mouth, relishing the tender warmth that only a warm-blooded creature could provide.  Naaza felt him twitch as his arms fell lower on the back of his body.  He explored every crevice of Krana’s mouth with his tongue, bemused at the feeling of so many natural blunt teeth.
Naaza pulled his head away, his narrow dark eyes seeming to stare straight through Krana to his soul.
Krana’s heart beat faster and he struggled to say, “What do you wish me to do, Your Greatness?”
Naaza loosened his arms and stepped back.  “Remove your clothing.”
Sweat built up on the back of his neck and Krana’s hands shook as he untied his worn coat and boots, then his shirt and pants.  He stood with his hands folded in front of himself, shivering despite the enormous fire nearby.  Naaza’s face kept its permanent small smile, taking in the sight of the naked man.  He moved his own slender fingers to the front of his long tunic, untying only a few strings, and the front opened to reveal his full human form.
Krana gulped at the sight of the porcelain god in front of him.  He had never seen a naked man with no scars, wounds, or burns; Naaza’s skin was a flawless white with vague muscles and perfect anatomy.
Neither of them moved for a moment, so Krana said, “Ah, Your Greatness, what, uh....”
Naaza tired of the timid man’s words and closed the space between them again, this time their skin coming in full contact.  Krana forced himself to stay still as the god’s cock pressed against his hip.  Naaza bent his head down and bit Krana’s bottom lip.  Krana groaned at the sudden pinch, opening his mouth and running his tongue along his lips.  He flicked at Naaza’s nibbling lips, more nervous that he had ever been in his life.
The contact against his cool skin made Krana’s cock twitch and he tilted his head to position their open mouths together.  His tongue snaked through Naaza’s mouth, leaving a trail of warmth through his unusually cool orifice.  Naaza’s skin felt like satin and he couldn’t help but lift his own arms to the god’s body, slipping under his elegant clothes.
Naaza’s human form looked as strong as a young girl’s, so Krana was stunned when he was pulled to the ground, the god and his robes writhing on top of him.  The soft bearskin rug prevented his skull from cracking open but he lay in a daze, Naaza sucking on him and his tongue rubbing in every direction on the roof of his mouth.  His hand dug into Krana’s hip, his long nails almost drawing blood.
Krana stayed on his back, the god laying between his bent knees and their waists pressing together.  Blood rushed to his cock and his trepidation vanished, primal instinct taking over.  Krana moved his hand down to his shaft, rubbing the bottom with his fingers and stimulating himself.  He felt pre-cum pool up in the tip of his slit, and a cool hand wrapped around his.  His hips quivered at the foreign touch.
Naaza reluctantly pulled his mouth away so he could look down at Krana’s erection.  He didn’t quite know what to make of it, having never been aroused in his human form before.  Krana noticed him furrow his brows, and licked his lips to speak.
“Great Naaza, please -”
His words were interrupted by Naaza’s rough tongue, pushing his body closer against Krana’s.  Krana managed to sit up with the god straddled between his legs.  He gave up on trying to ask permission or even speak, and with some hesitation, placed a hand on Naaza’s chest.  His heart beat slowly under his touch, the cool skin something he had never felt before.  It was soft, dry, and silky, completely unlike any woman he had ever been with, and his cock grew larger at the sensation.
Krana dropped his hand until he reached the god’s own cock, taking the shaft in his hand and stroking it to life.  Naaza dug his nails deeper into Krana’s thigh, his erection growing at the warm touch.  Krana watched the god’s thick cock come to attention, cum leaking from the head in a matter of minutes.  He pulled himself closer, his fingers working on the underside of Naaza’s slit, and their cocks brushed against each other.  The sight of Naaza’s body quivering hardened his determination.
“Naaza, it would be easier if you laid on your back,” he suggested.
“For what?”
He hadn’t expected that reply.  This glorious god, who controlled whether his village would starve over the winter, was as experienced as a virgin.
“I will warm you up.”
With the magic word slipping out of his mouth, Naaza fell back, his legs still wrapped around Krana’s waist.  Krana bent over him, his hands still firmly on their cocks and he rubbed their heads together.  Their pre-cum melted together, dripping in a single line onto their bodies, and Krana felt himself about to burst.  He removed his hand from his cock, leaving Naaza to continue imitating the movements of Krana’s other hand.
Krana reached under the base of Naaza’s shaft, his fingers circling his balls.  Much to his relief there was no sign of hair, and his hand moved without resistance further between the god’s legs.  His middle finger reached his anus first and he pressed on the ring.  Naaza made a sound at the completely alien touch.
Krana pulled his hand back, placing it on Naaza’s and pushing himself forward.  The head of his cock thrust against Naaza, and he forced himself into the god’s tight ass.  Naaza gasped, his eternal smirk vanishing as Krana’s hot rod pierced him, and he squeezed his legs tighter against Krana’s waist in the air.
Krana thrust with vigor, too horny to worry about displeasing the god.  He wrapped his fingers through Naaza’s long black hair, holding tight as he pounded mercilessly.  He bowed his head down onto his neck, nibbling on his satiny flesh.  Naaza encircled his robed arms around him, rocking his body in sync with the hot, wet thrusts in his ass.  Krana braced his knees against the rug, the fire blazing beside them as he came deep within Naaza.
Naaza cried out the loudest sound he had ever made in his existence, the hot cum spreading through him like wildfire.  He was overtaken by the feeling and his balls tightened.  He came on Krana’s stomach with another cry, falling limp as his own hot cum coated Krana.
Krana held himself up on his elbows, his face buried in Naaza’s neck.  He gasped for air, his breath hot against Naaza’s flesh.  The fresh heat drove Naaza crazy and he couldn’t resist anymore.  His thin lips curled back, fangs coming to attention, and he sank his teeth into Krana’s neck.
Krana screamed and struggled to pull away, but Naaza held his head tight.  His fangs released venom, coursing quickly through Krana’s veins thanks to his rapid heart rate.  Krana felt himself become sleepy, and his struggling weakened until he passed out on top of Naaza.
***
He woke up some time later, unable to tell what time of the day or night it was in the completely sealed room.  Krana sleepily looked around, wincing at the fresh wound in his neck.  Naaza was sleeping peacefully curled against his body on the fur rug, with another fur blanket laying over them.  The crackling fire and expensive fur were luxurious compared to his own home and he smiled to himself, snuggling against the god.
Naaza’s narrow eyes opened and looked down at him.
Krana gave him a polite smile.  “Do you feel better, Your Greatness?”
“I can feel my fingers and toes.  It is rare that I do.”  Naaza wasted no time, snaking his hand across Krana’s chest under the blanket.
“So, now that you’re satisfied, shall I return home?”
Naaza frowned.  “Not yet.”
He ducked under the blanket and Krana felt him move down to his groin.  Naaza’s tongue flicked on his cock and he startled at the wet touch.  He felt Naaza’s head stop and his lips nibbled on his inner thigh, his long fingers pushing his legs apart.  Naaza’s tongue spread flat against his inner thigh, and Krana expected the god to suck him off.
What he was not expecting was the sinking of fangs into his leg near his balls, and Krana yelled at the pain as Naaza sucked his blood from the wound.
Naaza slipped back up so he faced Krana, who was shaking and reaching down to stop the bleeding between his legs.
“You are fine,” Naaza said, calm as ever, with Krana’s blood staining his teeth.  “It is different from the venom I used last night and the wound will heal momentarily.”
Naaza’s poison flowed through his veins and Krana felt himself flush.  He didn’t become as drowsy as he had last night and his body felt hot.  He shifted to move the blanket off him, but Naaza grabbed his hands.
Naaza pulled him onto his stomach and nimbly straddled his back.  His slippery cock slid on his skin, aching for release.
“What are you doing?” Krana squawked, his face buried in the rug and his cock erecting faster than it ever had before.
Naaza slid further down so the head of his shaft pressed on Krana’s ass.  “So warm,” he murmured, pushing into him.
Krana gasped.  He had never been penetrated before, and the slick wet rod was hot as it brushed through his tight puckered ring.  Naaza thrust with ease, as if he had been doing it his entire life.  He pounded rapidly into Krana, whose body pressed against the floor with every push.
The rushed thrusts and venom in his blood was too much and Krana moaned lustfully, his fingers gripping the fur rug.  His stomach tightened and he felt cum leak from his cock and into the fur.  He was horny as hell and moved his ass with Naaza’s shaft, his moans louder with every movement.
Naaza bent over him, his chest brushing lightly against his back.  He wrapped his hands around Krana’s chest, holding the hot-blooded body close as he drove his hips into Krana as fast and hard as he could.  Krana’s cries echoed through the chamber and Naaza came, gripping Krana and sinking his teeth into his neck again.
Krana screamed and he came on the rug, his cum pooling underneath his hips.  Naaza kept his arms tight around him as he went limp, despite Krana wanting desperately to continue.  He panted against the floor, his cock burning for more.
“Naaza,” he managed to say, his name lustily falling from his lips.
Naaza brushed a hand through Krana’s hair.  “Yes, my companion?”
“Do it again.  Fuck me harder,” he begged.
The god appeared bemused.  “You no longer wish to return to your village?”
“Not yet.”  His body quivered.  “I need to make sure you are warm enough to survive blessing our harvest.”
Naaza rubbed his cock on Krana’s back, earning another moan from the human.  “All winter, then?”
Krana nodded, arching his back and rubbing himself against Naaza’s throbbing shaft.  Naaza buried his head in his companion’s hair, breathing in his scent and smiling to himself as he hardened for yet another round.
END :)

If you liked this story, you might also like Banging the Boss 1.
Roland is on his way home from a bar, recovering from a hard day of work, when a younger man propositions him. James claims he can satisfy Roland 3 times in a row, but he doesn't expect Roland to hold him - literally - to his word. 

Excerpt:

“You look like you could use my help,” the young man said in a syrupy voice.
Roland didn’t know how to respond until the man moved his fingers to brush against Roland’s groin.  “Why?” was all he could slur out.
“You look like you need it.  Besides, I’m the best you’ll ever get.”
A smirk crawled across Roland’s face.  “Really?  Why is that?”
The man’s fingers rubbed his groin.  “I’ll bet I can make you cum three times before I do.  I always do.”
Roland looked around and jerked his head toward the motel he had just passed.
The younger man, James, followed him in as Roland checked a room for them.  It was cleaner than he expected, but he was just glad he didn’t have to do it in the side alley again.  He followed Roland to their room.  The walls were pale and the only light came from a fixture in the middle of the ceiling.  There was a bureau near the door and dark curtained windows on the opposite wall next to the bed.
Roland laid his briefcase on top of the bureau and loosened his tie as James sat on the end of the bed.  Roland stretched his back and said, “Well, what do you do?”
James grinned and took the invitation to stand and take off his jacket and shirt, dropping them to the floor and motioning to the bed while saying, “Make yourself comfortable.”
Roland shrugged and sat high on the bed, almost on the pillows, watching James remove all his clothing.  “Three times?” Roland asked.
James crawled on the bed until he reached Roland’s pants, running his hands up his legs and thighs, and his slender fingers smoothly unworked his belt buckle.  “That’s what I promise.”
Roland smirked again and James took the challenge, pulling the zipper down and moving Roland’s soft dick out of his boxers.  He caressed the head with his forefinger, rubbing the shaft with his other hand until it stiffened.  The slit on the tip of his cock oozed a single bead of glistening pre-cum and James glanced up at Roland.  He watched him in return and seemed to be enjoying James’ touch, and he took the head of Roland’s burgeoning erection into his mouth.

Other titles by Victoria Scarlett include:

The Nun’s Naughty Secret
Sister Yvette despises Sister Rufina, so she is delighted when she discovers forbidden lingerie in Rufina's room. But before she can report it, Yvette is punished for the sinful garments. She confronts Rufina, accidentally finding another item - a large sparkly dildo hidden under her bed. Yvette immediately comes up with a humiliating revenge, but when the time comes, she may be the one who's taught a lesson in personal space. (f/m, crossdressing, masturbation, pegging, anal)

Full Moon Fuck
Nikolai’s life as a janitor for the local courthouse is calm and uneventful, something he doesn’t complain about. One night he stumbles across a young man who breaks into the kitchen, and Nikolai takes pity on him. He doesn’t know that the man has a secret, and the nearly full moon is driving him to do things - and people - he wouldn’t normally do. (m/m, werewolf, 69, oral, anal)

Rosebud Slave
Vance is tending to his step-mother's flowers while he recovers from a severe injury that has left him unable to walk. His criminal friend Martin sneaks in to visit him, but Vance is in no mood to talk to the man he holds responsible for his injury. Martin isn't worried, though - for what he has planned, he doesn't need Vance to talk. (m/m, oral, handjob)

About the Author

A care home nurse by day and a smut peddler by night, Victoria Scarlett's dirty after-hours imagination guarantees a little something for everyone.
Check out my Amazon Author Homepage!

* * * * *
The Werewolf Whisper 1: Sit, Stay, Good Boy
By
Victorie Lazer

Copyright © 2012 by Victorie Lazer

* * * * *

My name's Mark, and I guess you could say I'm living the dream. I own my own doggie day care, have only one mortgage on my cute suburban cookie-cutter house, and I'm dating the greatest guy in the world. Monty has it all. Deep green eyes, dark hair, perfect teeth, and the sort of abs you could do your laundry on. We like all the same books and bands and B movies. This probably sounds corny, but I think he might be The One. I really do. 
I didn't always think so. In fact, not too long ago, I realized he was keeping a secret from me, and I'll admit I jumped to bad conclusions.
Every month, he'd disappear for a few days at a time, just like clockwork. He told me that he traveled for work, but he always paused a little too long before telling me where he was going. Considering that he owns his own small business (a roadside store where he sells handicrafts and exotic flavors of jerky), you can see why I had a hard time believing him. Even weirder than that, sometimes he'd come back with bruises or strange scratches that he couldn't quite explain. It was more than just fishy. It stank to high heaven. Sometimes he did, too!
I started to worry that there might be somebody else. Another sweet twink to keep him warm at night, maybe even a woman. The more I thought about it, the more certain I became. He had to be cheating on me. What other explanation could there be? 
Those awful, dark thoughts were the reason I ended up sitting out in my car, in the middle of the night, in his driveway, staring at my supposedly "out-of-town" boyfriend's truck. All I knew was that if he had another lover in that decrepit old cabin of his, I would make him regret it.
I left my car, not locking the door. Monty lives out in the woods in the middle of nowhere, so there wouldn't have been anybody around to steal it. Unfortunately, Monty's living in the middle of nowhere also meant that there were no street lights to guide a creeping boyfriend in his borderline-stalker behavior, but thankfully the moon was big and bright that night. I didn't have any trouble sneaking my way around back and letting myself in with my key.
I know this sounds bad, but don't judge me too harshly. Even though he'd lied to me, I wasn't there to give him a hard time. If he'd really been working or having some alone time or whatever, I would have apologized and make it up to him a hundred-fold. But I was really starting to fall for the guy, and I felt that if there were somebody else, I deserved to know.
I slinked my way through the dark kitchen and living room, peeking into his study and bedroom along the way. A pitch-black stillness filled the cabin, and I felt ashamed. Just because he'd left his truck here didn't mean he'd stayed too. He'd probably gotten a ride from one of his hunting buddies to drive him to the Greyhound station or something. I'd tiptoed my way back to the door out when I heard a thump. 
It came from the basement.
I couldn't quantify exactly why, but something felt wrong. With my heart thumping all the way into my throat, I opened the basement door, just a crack. I'd never been down there. I'd never had any reason to. But at that moment, I just couldn't help myself. Before I knew it, I'd taken a step downward, and then another.
The stairs led to a small storage room that looked normal in every way except for a thick oak door on the far wall. It sported an old-fashioned bar latch holding and locking it shut … on the outside.
I knew then that I was in over my head. What if he was some kind of serial killer who kept his victims in his basement and slaughtered them during the full moon? What would I do then? And yet I couldn't stop myself from sliding the bar out of place and opening the door. Nothing could have stopped me from wanting to know.
A wide unfinished basement, largely empty, lay behind the door, dimly lit by what little moonlight filtered in through the small basement windows. I fumbled for a light switch, but failed to find one. Instead, I spotted a bare bulb in the center of the room with a chain hanging down. I stepped toward it.
A growl echoed through the tiny room. It came from behind me, and I whipped around to catch a glimpse of the source, but saw nothing. The sound of shuffling paws circled me, and this time when I spun around I managed to lock eyes with him.
There in front of me stood the biggest and most gorgeous wolf I'd ever seen. It had thick gray fur, lean muscles, and soulful green eyes. Looking into those eyes, I understood everything.
How stupid I had been. My poor, dear Monty was still the perfect man. It's just that he was also a werewolf.
A werewolf that was, at that moment, snarling at me. I didn't know how much of him was the man who'd always been so kind to me, but the dominant portion of him appeared to be pure canine. In a way, I took comfort in that fact. If there were any two things that I could handle, it was my boyfriend and a dog.
I offered my hand. He was so big, I didn't even need to crouch. He padded forward warily and gave it a sniff, then looked up at me. 
"Come on," I said, "You know this smell."
The wolf seemed to consider this, and then pushed his muzzle into my crotch.
I couldn't help but laugh a little. "Yeah… you know that smell too." I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small plastic bag of treats, enjoying the attentive perk of his ears at the sight of them. He followed it with his eyes, nose in the air. I'd never let Monty make fun of me for carrying dog biscuits in my pocket ever again, that was for sure!
"Sit!" I said, loudly and firmly, but not angrily. I didn't want to punish or threaten him, but simply to let him to know that I was in charge. I never broke eye contact, and I didn't let his little growls threaten me.
He didn't move at first, and I tried not to worry about what I would do if he didn't read any English.
"Sit," I repeated in my most commanding tone.
Finally, he sat.
I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Somewhere in there, he still understood me. I gave him his treat, waiting until he'd finished crunching it before very, very carefully reaching out to pet his head.
"Good boy," I said. "Good Monty." He was. He was the best boy. But that having been said, I didn't harbor any illusions about the safety of spending the night in there with him in that state, even if he was acting tame. I stood up tall and produced another biscuit. "Stay."
I took a step backwards, and he started to stand up.
"No. Sit."
He growled.
"I don't want to hear it, mister. I told you to sit."
He sat.
"Now stay. Stay." I shuffled backwards 	until I could feel the door, and then I tossed him the biscuit and made my escape, latching the door behind me. This move clearly didn't please him, because the next thing I heard was the thump of his considerable body mass up against the door, followed by a flurry of scratching an angry howl.
"Sorry, Monty. I'll make this up to you in the morning."
Not wanting to leave him, I wadded up my jacket to use as a pillow and tried to get some sleep. After awhile, he quieted down and we lay there, on opposite sides of that door, neither of us sleeping. I finally nodded off just before dawn, and it seemed like I had barely closed my eyes when someone was shaking me awake.
"Mark! Mark, oh god, are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"
I blinked hazily up at the handsome naked man who stood over me. I hadn't remembered being hurt, but I seemed to have woken up in heaven. "Huh?"
"What the hell are you— do you have any idea what you just— I could've—!" Monty was hyperventilating.
"It's fine," I replied sleepily. "You were a good boy."
"Mark!" he protested.
"How do you open and close the latch, anyway?"
"I use a credit card—damnit, Mark, this isn't funny! I could've killed you!"
It seemed like he had no intention of letting me go back to sleep, so I regarded him seriously. "Why didn't you tell me?"
He groaned. I had the feeling he'd been asked this question before. "What was I supposed to say? 'Hi, my name is Montgomery and I enjoy cooking, long walks on the beach, and running around naked in the woods dismembering elk'? You'd think I was crazy."
"Good point," I said.
He buried his face in his hands. "I'm dangerous. I'm a wild animal. I had a system, a way to keep everyone safe, and all you had to do was stay away for a few lousy days. And now…"
"It's fine."
"I understand if you want to leave me, but you can't tell anyone. I promise not to hurt anybody, that I haven't hurt anybody, so please…"
"I'm telling you, it's fine." I couldn't stand seeing him like that. I wanted to pet him and soothe him and make him feel better. So I reached up and pulled one of the hands away from that gorgeous face of his, kissing the palm. 
"Mark," he practically sighed, never once looking up at me. "I still have another day of the wolf in me. I won't transform until the sun goes down, but I'm going to be crazy all day…"
I sat up and kissed his jaw, letting his rough stubble scratch up against my face. He snarled in response. Still, I didn't stop. He needed to know that I could handle him, and I was happy to show him. 
"Good boy," I whispered, and kissed him on the lips.
I had no idea how much he'd been holding back until he returned that kiss with savage enthusiasm, tongue prowling its way into my mouth. His arms encircled my shoulders and he crushed me to his chest.
He'd never been like this before. He'd always been strong, and he could be goaded into taking me roughly if I insisted, but I'd never felt this level of raw urgency from him. Before I could so much as squeak in protest at my sudden inability to breathe, he'd shoved me  down to the floor. He hovered over me, his breath heavy and his arousal digging into my thigh.
"Off," I said.
His hands tore at my shirt, ripping through buttons. His mouth moved down, nuzzling my neck right at the pulse.
"Off," I said.
He moved downward, hands unbuckling my jeans and lips finding my clavicle to nibble on. Suffice it to say, I liked this side of him, but I couldn't let myself be carried away with his wildness. Even if my body cried out to be rutted like his bitch, he needed to know that I wouldn't be overtaken by him. On the floor, my fingers brushed up against a stack of old newspapers, and I knew what I must do.
I took one in hand and smacked him on the nose. "Off!" I cried. He retreated, looking ashamed, and I got up. "There's no such thing as a bad dog," I said, smacking my newspaper into my palm. "Just a bad owner. It's about time I stopped letting you run wild and gave you some training." 
"Train me," he agreed. "I'll be a good boy."
"I thought so. Sit!"
He sat back, looking up at me for confirmation. I ran my fingers through his hair. "Good boy. Now stay."
I circled him, taking in the smooth, perfect muscles of this man who wanted nothing more than to love and to please me. He resisted the urge to watch me and I smiled, thinking that maybe he had a little discipline in him after all. I'd have to reward him for that.
"Stroke," I said.
He took himself in hand, one big beast holding another, and stroked himself slowly, lingering at the dripping tip. His eyes fluttered and finally shut, thick lashes resting on his chiseled cheeks. Tiny grunts escaped his throat as his hand pumped up and down on his fat cock. My own pants started to constrict at that lovely sight.
"Stop," I told him.
He whined in protest, hand stopping but not pulling away from his sex.
"Off!" I ordered, brandishing my newspaper.
With a small grumble, Monty let his hand drop to the side and turned to me for further instruction.
"Good. Let's try something a little harder."  I stopped in front of him, my already-unbuckled fly in his face. "Fetch me a bone."
Without hesitation, he took my zipper in his teeth and pulled it down. His muscular arms curled around me, giving my firm ass a firmer squeeze before yanking down my jeans. My hard on had formed a tent in my boxers, but that didn't last long, as he pulled those down in the next motion. 
Next time, I thought, I'd make him work a little harder for his treat. I'd take my time and really relish the animalistic hunger that emanated from every inch of him. But right then, I needed it just as badly as he did, so I let him slurp me up. 
Monty was a master of the deepthroat, and he had all of me between his greedy lips before I could so much as exhale. His tongue lapped me greedily, clearly pleased by the taste. I hadn't been prepared for the intensity of it all, and I needed to steady myself against the mass of his shoulders in order to keep from being bowled over. The heat spreading from his mouth and my throbbing member rapidly overtook my body. I exploded into him, spurting right into that needy tongue, and he took it all in with gusto, sucking until he'd milked me dry.
"G-good boy," I panted. Rather than giving in to the pleas of my limp body and collapsing, I dropped down to my knees and kissed him, savoring in my own salty taste on his lips. 
Sleepy and sated, I could have done that forever, but he whined into my lips, reminding me of his own need. I realized that he'd been trembling from holding himself back, and I thought that he'd had enough. He'd more than earned another treat. 
"Lay down," I said, and he did, but that huge cock of his stood up tall. Maybe it was just my lust-fueled imagination, but it seemed even bigger than usual, and had something of a red tinge to it. I ran my fingers across the shaft, driving my wild man wilder,  and then took it into my mouth. I didn't suck for long, though. I'd grown high on the power of bossing around such a powerful man, and I didn't want to let him come just yet. I decided to get my clicker and pick on him just a bit more.
"Stay." Without getting up, I turned around and leaned over to dig through my jacket pockets. For just a second, and without any real awareness of my actions, I'd gotten down onto all fours.
Two phrases come to mind as I tell this part of the story. One: Hubris is the folly of man, and two: Don't turn your back on a horny werewolf. 
Monty might have seemed docile mere moments ago, but with the way I gave him an eyeful of my wiggling bottom… well, I might as well have dangled a steak in front of him. He was on me in a flash, a tongue (which, just like his cock, I could have sworn hadn't been that long before) burying itself into my ass. I gasped, shuddering with an unexpected wave of yearning. Monty had always been talented with his tongue, but this was on a whole new level. I debated stopping him, trying to take control of the situation, but who was I to come between a werewolf and the full moon?
And just as I really started to get into the waxing and waning of his skilled tongue, he withdrew. I whimpered in protest. At that moment, I'd forgotten about training him. I wanted to be his bitch, mounted and fucked until I yowled in pleasure. So I said nothing, simply vocalized my need in cries and whimpers.
Wasting no time, he crawled up on me, his thick red rod finding its way straight to my horny hole. Nor did he take his time entering me, slamming into my hips in one rough thrust. The saliva did its job well enough, but Monty had never taken me with so little lube or so much force before, and I cried out in surprise. 
Isn't that funny? He's the werewolf, but without a doubt, I was the one howling. 
He grunted in time with each pounding he gave my rear, and eventually I realized he was saying something, practically chanting under his breath.
"Bitch, bitch, you're my bitch."
I couldn't exactly argue with that in my position, but hearing it vocalized really snapped me out of my lusty haze. I couldn't let him think he had me totally dominated, or I would never tame my wolf. "Harder!" I demanded.
Okay, maybe that's not the best thing to demand when you're trying not to be someone's bitch. But I'm giving myself points for effort here.
Whether following my orders or his instincts, he obliged my request, monster member filling me all the way up as his hands clawed at my hips. I took it all in and wanted more.
"S-stroke!" 
He curled over me and dropped one hand down to my lonely cock, giving it a little squeeze before jerking it roughly. Between that and the abuse I'd been taking from behind, the building pleasure became more than I could even dream of resisting. 
"Bitch…"
"Yeah – fine, I'm your bitch," I panted, loving every second of it. "I'm your—"
I couldn't even finish. I came right then and there, spraying his floor and hand with my hot jizz in high-pressure spurts. From that point on I just rode the wave, letting my lean lycanthrope have his way with me until he, too, came, drenching my insides with his canine seed and bruising my thighs with his digging hands.
Afterward we collapsed into a heap on the floor, him still inside of me. He wrapped his arms around me and nestled his face in my hair. The beast was at rest, at least for now, and after a long night, so was I. We fell asleep just like that, totally spent.
* * *
We woke up around noon, partook of Monty's world-famous pancakes (at least, they ought to be world-famous), and talked quietly about nothing, neither of us mentioning last night. Finally, he sat down across the table, looked at me so intensely I felt a little self-conscious about how much bacon I'd stuffed into my mouth, and spoke.
"Every month, for a few days on either side of the full moon, I completely lose it. I can't keep my head on straight during the day, and I turn into a monster at night. That's the long and short of it. A lot of weres have gone urban these days, so I don't have much of a pack to run with right now, and I was worried that I'd do… I don't know, something. Hunt you down, hurt somebody. That was why I had to isolate myself. I'm sorry I lied. I'll still totally understand if you want to—"
"I want to train you," I interrupted just as soon as I'd swallowed my mouthful of hot pork. "You're afraid of hurting people, but you didn't hurt me."
"That's different," he protested. "You're my…" He stopped himself, blushing.
"Your mate?"
He nodded. Nobody in the world could ever look as cute as my Monty did at that moment.
"I love you too," I said. "And I'm going to tame you."
Defiance flashed in those deep green eyes, and Monty abandoned his seat, circling around to my side of the table to breathe in my ear. "You didn't tame me this morning."
"It takes more than one session," I replied, unmoved.
He began to nibble.
"Sit," I said.
He sat.
I grinned. We had a long day ahead of us before the sun went down, and this time, I intended to give him the training of his life. 
END :)

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Dee is a lipstick Satanist with a grudge! But when her revenge spell backfires, she ends up with a very sensitive part of someone else's anatomy. Well, it doesn't hurt to test it out, does it? And the sexy demon Nestir is more than happy to help her out with that... Be warned! This is an adults-only ebook containing several sex acts and several more terrible jokes!

Excerpt:

Dee found herself staring down at a huge cock hanging flaccid from beneath her own fastidiously-trimmed, five-pointed-star-shaped bush. Her jaw dropped. 
"The deed is done," said Nestir, and turned to leave for parts unknown and unknowable. Before it could exit this mortal realm, however, it received a flying ottoman to the back of the head.
"Oh no you don't!" Dee shouted, leaping to her feet. "What is the meaning of.. of this?"
"You did wish for the thing that he loved most. I already had it on hand, so—"
Dee had stomped over and grabbed Nestir by its pointed ear. "Don't you bullshit me! Am I really supposed to believe that pathetic loser had the biggest, most beautiful dick I've ever seen? You lazy piece of shit! I want to speak to your manager!" 
"There are stranger things this world than a beautiful dick. I have told you the truth. He sold this to me. Would you prefer it go to waste?" 
The demon had an apathetic look on its face, but Dee knew better. Her kitties made the same face when they fell off the sofa. She dropped it, grunting with irritation. "At any rate, I didn't ask to have it attached!"
"Don't knock it before you've jerked it," said Nestir.

Other titles by Victorie Lazer include:

Fuck! That Demon Stole My Dick
Ken would give up anything for his big break into show biz, but when he summons the sexy demon Nestir, it turns out he's going to have to give up something far more important than his soul!

Bound Bounty
Brocas Nails is the most wanted man in the galaxy, and when he gets captured by the legendary bounty hunter Serge Tapp, he must suck, screw, and fight his way to freedom! 5000 words, m/m, oral and anal sex, spanking.

About the Author

Victorie has risen from the depths of the netherworld to punish all the naughty boys and girls.

* * * * *
Cry of the Wolf
By
Vivian London

Copyright © 2012 by Vivian London

* * * * *

The creak of the inn door startled Alois, who certainly hadn't been expecting any travelers. Especially not this late.
Especially not so handsome. This newcomer he didn't recognize certainly set his heart beating a little faster, and not only from the obvious enchanted sword hanging at his hip. 
"Evenin'," he said cheerily. He put the cloth he'd been using to wipe off the table-top back in its place tucked into his belt, and made his way back toward his counter. "Haven't seen you in here before. What can I get you?" It was a simple enough spiel, he figured, for this new man did look like he'd come a long way. Alois could scent it on him.
Adlar gave Alois a nod, looking him over as he dropped his bag. "Mead for now. I'll need a room, for the rest of the week at least, possibly longer." He was reluctant to tell the nature of his visit, but he assumed that the townsfolk would eventually figure it out. The fewer questions, the better, so he intended to keep it to himself as long as he could. "Where's the owner?"
Alois was unable to resist a proud smile. For all the inconveniences the inn caused him regarding his transformations, it was still his pride and joy. "Standing rate is ten gold a night. And I'm the owner." His chest puffed out a little bit. "Bought this place around three years ago."
Having said that, he leaned under the bar to get a clean tankard and a bottle of the local mead. Brewed right there in the cellar. He set the full tankard down on the counter and then leaned on it himself. "Name's Alois. I take it you knew the previous people who owned this place, yeah?"
"Thought it looked nicer." Adlar mumbled, reaching into his travel bag and pulling out a satchel. "Here, a week's rent, paid in advance." He then took a long drink of mead, giving a small hum of appreciation. "Its been a while since I've been able to enjoy a fine cold brew," he mused, glancing up at the other man. "Alois, eh? I'm Adlar. You're not from Mystfell , are ye?"
"Thanks." Alois stashed the coin purse under the bar until he could bring it into his room later. "And thanks again. Make the stuff myself, as well as a few special drinks for the adventurous. Everyone enjoys mead though." 
His mouth turned up in a wide smile, watching Adlar enjoy himself. "No. Originally from Brackenridge, all that way up north. Are you from down here? You swaggered in like you knew the place pretty well, I thought." He laughed, only meaning it as a gentle tease. It had taken the people here in Mystfell  a long time to get suited to an innkeeper with a sense of humor.
"I lived here for a while, yeah." Adlar said before draining his mug. "Pretty much grew up here, though I left when I was still young and went--" He paused, looking over Alois again, "Up north." He pushed the mug forward, a quiet ask for another, but with a small smile. "Brackenridge. Your family from Cadlen then?"
Without even having to ask, Alois refilled Adlar's tankard. He also returned the small smile with a bigger one. "They were. Lived out in Brackenridge, commuted to the city, really. It was pretty idyllic, but I grew up learning how not to run an inn, if you know what I mean." He laughed. "The place up there is a rathole. Luckily, they had a boy my age who was handsome."
Adlar quirked an eyebrow, not saying anything as he drained half the mug. "So, why Mystfell ?" He asked after a moment. It was nice to talk to someone new, someone who was more pleasant than the miners that populated the inn in Averglow .
"I like the quiet." Alois pulled a stool up behind the bar so he could sit, also enjoying the pleasant conversation. Nights in the inn were typically pretty morose. "I also like the wilderness--plus I'd never been here before. I couldn't settle down somewhere I knew, I figured."
He shrugged, pulling up a bottle of mead for himself. "I did some adventuring, and suppose I still have the wanderlust for it."
"A bit hard to adventure when you have an inn to run, isn't it?"
"Unfortunately." Alois drank some mead and pulled a face. "Not so bad, though. Innkeeping--well--I feel like it was something I'm supposed to do. Always had a knack for mixing drinks, at least."
"It shows." Adlar's voice held a measure of admiration. "So, has Mystfell been as quiet as ever lately?"
"Mostly. Except for that whole Sigurd situation. Heard about that?" Alois looked sourly down the neck of his mead bottle. "Ripped a woman to shreds recently." The words to tell Adlar that Sigurd was a werewolf were on the tip of his tongue but prudence and fear of discovery held him back.
Adlar fought back the urge to grin--the rumours were true! "Oh? Are they blaming the old Mystfell Fever with it?"
"I have other suspicions." Damn his wagging mouth. Alois settled back on his stool with a rueful smile playing about his lips. He reached up to smooth down one of his scruffy sideburns as he told Adlar, "I think he's a werewolf."
"Good." Adlar said, draining his mug. "That's why I'm here."
"Eh?" With that one comment, Alois' pulse began racing again. "You a werewolf hunter or something?" Please don't be.
Adlar smirked. "Something like that. More of a bounty hunter, really."
"Ohh." Alois finished the rest of his own mead, more than a little relieved. He'd hate to have been found out and murdered. "I see. So you want to take care of this Sigurd problem, so to speak, and then reap the Baron's gratitude? Just a friendly word of warning--he might give you some coins, but don't expect any kind words from Bryngrim." Alois rolled his eyes. "Thinks we common folk are nothing but maggots."
"The Baron? You think I'm doing this for the Baron?" Adlar chuckled, the sound low and dark in his throat. "My aspirations are much higher than that. The thrill of the chase, the hunt, now that's what I'm after. The gold is secondary."
"The hunt," Alois repeated. He drummed his fingers on the wooden bar, feeing the blood in his veins practically thrill. He hunted several nights a week, which was difficult enough to manage already, but sometimes just hearing it like that made him crave the earth under his claws, soft prey-flesh in his teeth…
He snapped out of his reverie, refocusing on Adlar with a lazy, secretive sort of smile. "Then I hope you fare well in that, Hunter."
Something in Alois' tone sent a jolt through him, and suddenly his senses were alive. Not here, not now. He swallowed hard, fighting back the array of sounds and smells, but one scent stood out, something familiar that he couldn't quite place. It was going to bother him until he discovered it. In spite of himself, he sniffed the air, trying to pin down the source, but was overwhelmed by the smell of blood, sweat and alcohol in the inn. "Do you have a dog around here somewhere?"
Immediately Alois' blood, running hot with the thoughts of fresh blood, turned to ice. "No, we don't keep a dog here. Sometimes village folk bring one in, but it doesn't stay." As if to prove his point, a huge grey cat made its presence known as it jumped onto the bar. It meowed demandingly at Adlar. 
"Means I have to scrub down the inn again, I guess," he laughed. Trying to lighten the mood.
"Oh." Adlar looked surprised. "Must be what I smelled then. Not that it stinks in here, mind you, but in Averglow , animals weren't allowed inside the inn." He was babbling, trying to cover his near-slip. "What's his name?"
"Wulfgar." Almost on command the cat meowed again. "There's a few others around here somewhere. Probably sleeping on my clean beds." Alois laughed again. "Averglow ? That's quite a long way."
"It is. But I'd rather not talk about it, grateful to be away from it." Adlar smiled, lifting his empty tankard. "Damn. Another round?" He asked with a wink. As Alois moved to refill his mug, he took a moment to really look at the man. There was something about him that intrigued Adlar. His eyes raked over the man, from his well-toned arms and chest, down to his hips that swayed a little with each step, back up to his handsomely rugged face, short messy hair and sideburns. There were scars on his face, probably reminders of his adventuring days, and a curious faded red tattoo both above and below his eye. Adlar felt his face heat momentarily--Alois was certainly an attractive man.
"Most certainly," Alois purred. He knew flirting when he received it, and just how to give it back, doing some unnecessary flexing to open Adlar's next mead bottle, and his own.
He'd had the opportunity to look Adlar over when he'd first entered the inn and definitely liked what he saw. Long, braided dark hair with beads and feathers--a nice touch--with a prominent nose and when he turned his head, Alois saw the blue inked ivy leaf on his neck, the symbol of Mystfell. Toned arms, but not too big and muscular, and from what he estimated, a cute ass.
Perfect. Alois knew he'd be smitten with Adlar by the end of the week, if not before. "Glad you're enjoying it."
"This isn't local stuff, I can tell." Adlar felt his face heat again, and hoped he could pass it off as simply being in his cups. "I assume its a mix? Personal recipe, yeah?" He felt that familiar twinge, the beast inside him raised its head to sniff around. Not now. He thought again, trying to push it away. He turned his attention back to Alois, watching the man move. His cock twitched at he watched muscle move under skin, clothes pulled taught across his broad shoulders, a single bead of sweat rolling down the side of Alois' neck. The beast within him howled.
It probably would have been a comfort to Adlar to know he wasn't alone. The beast in Alois was answering to Adlar; straining and chomping at the bit. "Mmhm. Glad you have enough taste to notice. I guess the folk here have drank so much of it they don't even care anymore." Despite trying to keep his voice light, some huskiness seeped through.
Desire was already taking its toll on Alois. Passion ran so much closer to the surface for werewolves, he figured, and base desires were very strong. Like the urge to, well, mate. To grab Adlar's shoulders and force him down, to submit, earn that right to mount him--Alois took a breath. A deep breath. Suddenly, he needed his pipe--but didn't dare move to get it, lest Adlar see the bulge his halfhard cock made in the thin pants he was wearing.
"I've got some Reserve in here somewhere, too, if you're feeling fancy." By the gods, it was so difficult to keep his words sounding somewhat normal.
Adlar swallowed, "That'd be a real treat." He reached down, ducking his head under then bar as he searched for his coin purse. He took a deep, quiet breath, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to push away unbidden images that had come to mind, images of Alois undressing, of himself on his knees in front of the man, Alois with his fingers tangled tight in his hair, forcing his head down and his mouth closer to his cock. Adlar took another deep breath, sitting up, certain his face gave away his guilty thoughts. He placed some coin down on the table, "Before I'm too drunk to remember." He forced a laugh.
"I'd have given it to you at a discount--don't worry." There was still a rumbling purr in Alois' voice no matter how he wanted to hide it. "And I'd have reminded you in the morning." Maybe there was something about wolves, he thought, being able to sense desire in a room. Heightened senses of everything thanks to his secret. 
He bent and stuck Adlar's coins next to the rest of them on the shelf below the bar, grabbing a bottle of Reserve for his guest. He wanted to fuck Adlar, bend him right over the bar and wreck his ass until Adlar couldn't even walk to his bed. Then make damn sure he wouldn't walk for a few days. "If I needed to. You don't look too tipsy to me, but I've been wrong before." He chuckled again, biting his lower lip as fantasies continued to assault his mind.
"Like I said, its been a while since I've had a good drink like this." Adlar noted the way Alois' voice seemed deeper, huskier. Adlar smiled. "I'm feeling it." He wondered for a moment how Alois might react if Adlar began stripping his clothes off, if he begged Alois to fuck him, his mouth, his ass, anything. He took another deep breath, before lifting his mug. "Cheers."
"Cheers, Adlar." Alois' voice still had that husky tone because his cock was still hard. Harder, actually, imagining cock-bruised lips and those flushed cheeks, with a little added topping of his own, so to speak. His wants were never usually this intense. "I'm giving it to you hard--half price. I mean."
Now it was Alois' turn to flush for slipping up like that. 
Adlar looked up quickly, mouth falling open. Did he just hear that right? He was afraid to ask, but at the same time, he desperately wanted to know. "Alois--" The name came out a hoarse whisper. He cleared his throat. "So, do you, uh, run the inn alone?"
"All alone." Alois bit his lip, trying to gauge Adlar's facial expressions. Was he reading them right? "Not a customer tonight, either. Just my cats." Please let me fuck you. "It can be a--ah--a lonely place, late at night."
"No one else here?" Adlar reached up, unbuckling his armour and dropping it onto his travel bag. He hoped he was right about Alois as he unlaced the top of his shirt, showing some skin. "Its a bit warm in here, I hope you don't mind."
Damn. Alois knew, at that moment, that he and Adlar were going to fuck--tonight. Hard. "Adlar." He purred the man's name again, and then reached quickly across the bar. Adlar's shirt bunched up in his powerful fist as Alois pulled him practically across the counter and against his waiting, greedy mouth for a brutal, searing kiss. 
Adlar moaned into the kiss, hands moving to the bottom hem of his shirt. He tried to pull it up over his head, but Alois' hands were in the way. Desperate, he ripped the shirt, forcing Alois to relinquish his hold on him long enough to lose his shirt. His fingers went to the lacings on his pants, and he prayed to every god listening that Alois wouldn't have a surprise customer that night.
As soon as Adlar went for his pants Alois practically leapt across the bar with supernatural agility to grab at him. It was bestial, animal passion and lust as he nearly ripped his own clothes off. His cock was swollen, slapping against his taut stomach with nearly every movement he made as he grabbed at Adlar, running his fingers--his claws--over the man's skin.
His teeth grazed tender flesh as he tried to find his way back to Adlar's mouth and claim it again, growling all the while.
The scent was back, stronger than before and suddenly Adlar knew what it was. "You're a wolf." He breathed, words turning into a moan as Alois' teeth moved over his skin. "Gods, Alois, fuck me!" 
"So are you." Gods yes. "Oh, gods, Adlar." Alois growled deep in his chest and unapologetically shoved Adlar down against the bar hard, just like he'd fantasized. His muscles rippled as he kept the squirming man pinned down, even though Adlar was only squirming  to thrust his ass back at Alois to present himself, utterly for the taking.
So Alois did. He spat on his hand and gave his thick cock a squeeze and then slammed it home, spreading Adlar apart nearly all the way through. Alois didn't even pause before he began fucking him so hard, so beast-like, that the whole bar rattled. Every thrust drove his enormous cock in to the hilt, balls slapping hard against Adlar's skin.
"Yes," he growled, tilting his head back. The wolf in him howled triumphantly as he claimed Adlar, fucked him, made him Alois' own.
Adlar half-shrieked as Alois' cock slammed into him, his ass clenching tight with each thrust. "Fuck, Alois!" He moaned, nearly sobbing as his fingers scrabbled to get a good grip on the bar-top. He moaned again, arching his back as Alois' cock brushed against that spot deep inside him. "Alois," he panted, "I've never--oh fuck!" Adlar hoped Alois understood what he was trying to say, and appreciated the significance of it.
A sweat broke out across Alois' back as somewhere, dimly, his sex-addled mind processed those words. Adlar had never been fucked before--Alois was the first.
Mine, the wolf inside him roared, and Alois moaned aloud. He fucked Adlar even harder after that, trying to make his toes curl and his feet even leave the ground. "Mine," he said aloud for both of their benefit, and slammed himself inside of Adlar's tight asshole as far as his body would let him. It was not enough. Adlar's searing, tight sucking heat enveloped his cock in a way he'd never felt before. It was impossible to keep from riding him like this.
"Oh gods, yes, yes!" Adlar moaned, shoving himself back onto Alois' cock with every thrust forward. "Alois, just like that!" His cock was rubbing against the bar counter, leaving a slick trail of precum along the wooden top. He moved one hand down, trying to slide it between his body and the bar, needing to feel more, more friction, more skin, more of anything.
Even if he had wanted to stop, at this point Alois wouldn't have been able to.
The wolf had taken over, though his shape was still that of a man, and Alois could do nothing but fuck. "Take it," he heard himself say, and almost didn't recognize his own voice. The wet, slapping sound of sweaty skin hitting skin continued; erotic in and of itself, but he could also hear, with his lust-heightened senses, the sucking sound of his cock pumping in and out of Adlar's stretched and abused asshole that so voraciously re-enveloped his cock every time he thrust it forward. 
It only served to incense him further, trying to split Adlar's legs like he'd split his ass just so he could see if the other man could take even more.
Adlar cried out against the rough treatment, but made no move to stop Alois. His fingers wrapped around his cock, squeezing in half-hearted attempts to stroke himself. There wasn't much he could do besides lie there and accept the brutal fucking. He pressed back again, submitting to Alois, the man's name spilling from his lips with other mumbled words. With every growl of the wolf on top of him, with every thrust, Adlar found himself closer and closer to cumming.
The submission was delicious; Alois could nearly taste it on his tongue. He scented blood, too, and groaned. 
His cock was skewering Adlar's ass so deep he was amazed it hadn't killed the writhing body beneath him. "You taste it yet?" He asked, chest rumbling as he leaned forward to press his hairy chest to Adlar's smooth, sweaty back. He felt the muscles there moving beneath skin. "You feel my dick in the back of your throat, whelp?" 
One of his powerful hands met Adlar's at the other man's cock, squeezing the base. There were more tremors to the clenching of the ring of muscle stretched around Alois' cock and, sensitive as he was, he knew Adlar was going to cum soon. He couldn't have that; he was nowhere close and wanted to ride this high to the end. 
"Fuck," he moaned. He was no longer pulling out so far and slamming back in; what was happening now were short, brutal thrusts that clenched his strong abs, jabbing his cock deeper and harder, lodging it up against that sweet spot inside Adlar. 
"Alois!" Adlar groaned, clawing at the bar-top. "Please, I'm so close." He was shameless with his begging, pressing his hips down to rut against the wood as he tried to find release.
In response Alois merely kept his hold, smirking against Adlar's back. He then dragged his teeth across a shoulder blade, following them with his tongue to taste the sweat there. It was salty and smelled like Adlar, so sweet and submissive, begging his alpha to let him cum. 
"Not yet, whelp," he grunted. The muscles in Adlar's back moved beneath him still, and Alois felt the shameless grinding of his hips--against Alois' hand, against the counter top. Anything to help bring him to orgasm. It sent a shockwave of pleasure through Alois, but he  didn't let up--and neither did his vicious fucking. "Make more noise," he demanded after a hard, sucking kiss with teeth against Adlar's spine. "Tell me how you love this."
Adlar arched his back and moaned, his body trembling with desire. "Love it," he gasped, "I love being fucked like this, oh Alois, please!"
Alois' other strong hand gripped Adlar's shoulder and pulled him back hard on the dick claiming him, just as Alois shifted his hips to plunge forward. With Adlar whining and writhing on his dick like this, it was getting more and more difficult to hold out. The other man's hips were constantly moving and his asshole was so hot, clenching and practically gobbling his dick up.
His balls were heavy, slapping against Adlar's ass as Alois thrust into him. It had been a while since he'd fucked anyone, especially someone so hot. This load was gonna be huge; he could tell. 
"Fuck," he grunted, leaning down to again mark Adlar's back with his teeth; the grip on Adlar's cock tightened for a second and then released with one last squeeze. Alois put both his hands on Adlar's hips and leaned back, tightening the muscles in his abs and ass to start fucking harder, pounding Adlar's poor abused ass even more than before, with the desperation that comes from being close to orgasm.
"Yes!" The word came out as a sob. Adlar clenched tighter around Alois' cock, his head thrown back as he came. His moans turned into a long howl, the beast inside him finally sated.
Alois practically heard Adlar's cum hitting the wood when he was finally allowed. Adlar's hips were still moving in a frenzy, his asshole now so tight around Alois that he felt he'd never pull out. That would have been fucking amazing, he decided, but he needed to claim his  dominance over this whelp, this submissive. The thought of it brought him that much closer to cumming, hips still pumping with all his force into Adlar's tight hole.
With that in mind Alois rumbled, "You belong to me, now. You know that, don't you?"
The fog seemed to dissipate from his mind, and now that he was satisfied, Adlar was defiant. "Do I?" He growled.
"I dominated you." Alois gave a pointed thrust of his hips, cock still lodged far inside Adlar. "I'll mark you." Before Adlar could move against him, Alois grabbed the other man's hair tight and pressed him down against the bar once more.
He almost didn't make it, feeling the pressure in his sac mount and then release. With it came the intense, sheer pleasure of cumming, and Alois had begun to shoot his load just as he finally dislodged his cock from Adlar's stretched and used hole. There was his precum dripping out of it and now he held his thick cock right between the cleft of Adlar's asscheeks, letting his thick, hot strands of cum spray all over the other man's back. It hit the hickies and marks Alois had left, making even more of a possessive statement.
It was a long time before he was done; he had blown a huge load, one that left even the wolf inside him curled up and docile. Alois moaned, staggering back a step to stare at his handiwork. "I own you, whelp," he said again.
Adlar was left panting on the bar-top, feeling the hot cum dripping down his back and legs. He enjoyed it, in spite of himself. Submitting  to another man, another wolf, it was something he could definitely get used to. He rolled over lazily, still leaning back against the bar as he smirked up at Alois. "Fine," he purred, "You own me."
Alois grinned in return, showcasing his very large set of teeth. "You're damned right I do." The sight of cocky Adlar, naked and with the scent of Alois in and all over him brought a pleased rumble to the older werewolf's chest. He leaned forward and nipped Adlar's lower lip while sliding a hand up his thigh. "However," he intoned as his teeth slid from Adlar's throat down over the fuzz on his chest, "I don't mind letting you mount and have your fun, too." He bit down on a nipple. "So long as you remember who dominates."
Adlar hissed, sliding his hands into Alois' hair. The beast was stirring again. All thoughts of Sigurd and the hunt were pushed aside, he would tend to that in the morning. His fingers gripped Alois' hair tight, and he tugged on it, playfully pushing his head further down. 
"The night is still young, Alois."
END :)

Other titles by Vivian London include:

Howl II: Bloodlust (Werewolf Domination)
Sequel to Howl - Adlar is a bounty hunter on a search for werewolves. When he goes on the hunt for an alpha werewolf, he finds much more than he bargained for. Sigurd isn't alone, and the two werewolves are intent on making Adlar submit to them.

Cabin Fever
Josh is still reeling from a messy breakup, and the best cure for a relationship hangover is a Boy's Weekend at the cabin. When a sudden storm interrupts their fishing, Josh and his friend Casey have to find other ways of entertaining themselves...

In Too Deep
Sean has had his eye on the mysterious, handsome man who lives in the apartment above his own. Will a late night encounter at the pool give him the opportunity he has been waiting for?

After Hours
It's been quite some time since Martin has been able to spend any quality alone time with his boyfriend, Ben. When he decides to surprise his busy lover after work, will Martin finally get some of that rough love he has been craving lately?

About the Author

Vivian London is a middle school Maths teacher by day and a smut peddler by night. When she’s not teaching maths or writing steamy stories, she’s lounging on a sunny beach near her home in Florida or curling up with a good book and a hot cup of tea. You can follow Vivian London on Twitter @LondonVivian or by visiting her blog at VivianLondon.blogspot.com

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