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Caught by the Werewolf

Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

“Rach! Didn't think I'd see you here!"

The young woman stopped beside a jauntily carved pumpkin with a lopsided smile. Brushing her long, blonde hair back over her shoulder, Rachel turned slowly on the spot. A man with an orange and black striped cloth draped down from his hips licked his lips and looked her up and down. His eyes stripped her of her flowing, white dress and she balked, taking a physical step back, tiny nose wrinkling. As disco lights flickered over his bare, oiled chest, he tensed, pushing out his abs as if to draw her eye.

“Hi, Pete." She pursed her lips. “What are you then? That's a...nice costume."

He laughed, throwing his head back to show off a set of pearly whites. His tousled brown hair flicked into his eyes and he pushed it away, a smirk quirking his lips on one side.

“I'm Tarzan!"

He posed with his arms raised above his head. Swaying them back and forth, he bellowed, supposedly playing the part of a wild man swinging from tree to tree. Rachel did not respond and crossed her arms, a pair of silver wings jiggling on her back. Dropping his arms, Peter laughed, amused by his own joke.

“Aw, c'mon, Rach." He slung an arm around her shoulder even as she shrugged him off, as stiff and unyielding as a brick wall. “Don't be like that. Have a sense of humour once in a while!"

He smiled, laying a hand on her forearm.

“Something has to be funny to laugh at, Pete."

He rolled his eyes and snaked his arm around her waist, hand falling with far too much familiarity to the small of her back. She resisted the urge to shudder, shoulders laden with tension, as he leaned in close, lips nuzzling her earlobe. The back of her neck prickled and she delicately but deliberately extricated herself from his slimy grasp.

“Goodbye, Pete."

Adding a suitable dose of venom to how she delivered his name and thus the final blow, Rachel made good her exit, disappearing into the throng of the party. Bobbing through the crowd in her angel costume – in hindsight, it was a little contrived – Rachel muttered a curse on herself for coming to the stupid party in the first place. Really, what was the point? Forced to socialise with people she had little to no interest in... She grimaced. She'd rather have her nose in a book. In front of a roaring fire. Some of the tension slipped from her shoulders and she smiled. Ah, yes, that would be heaven.

Either way, she'd put in an appearance. She didn't like to stay at parties for long anymore, although they had been quite 'her scene' some time ago. But the time of knocking back the drinks and racking up the notches on her bedpost had long ago worn thin – though long before she had actually gotten a new bed altogether. The springs were far too worn out in the last one. Rachel sighed and looked down, staring at her prettily painted toenails through the open-toes of her strappy high heels, so tall that she had to take small, mincing steps. The angelic blue didn't seem to suit her as well as it used to. If she'd ever been an angel at all.

“Hey, Rachel!"

A brunette with a pixie-cut and fairy wings dangling at a sloppy angle from between her shoulder blades pushed her way through the crowd, a cheesy smile plastered across her face. Her lipstick was smudged and she giggled tipsily as she teetered on her overly high heels – taller than even Rachel's – before her friend. Rachel shook her head and put her hand on Tiffany's arm to steady her. The skinny woman hiccupped and stumbled into her arms.

“Did you see what Brigitte's wearing tonight?" She guffawed, slopping her drink over the rim of her red plastic cup. “She looks like a whale in that costume! She'd have done better to come dressed with an actual personality!"

“Very funny, Tiff." Rachel sighed. “Haven't you had enough?"

Tiffany blinked.

“Enough what?"

“To drink!"

“Oh!" She giggled and took a gulp of whatever was in the cup. “You should have some, it's good!"

Rachel rolled her eyes and pressed her lips together, saying nothing. There was no stopping Tiffany when she went off on one. She'd regret it in the morning and say that it would never happen again. Yet it irrevocably would. It always did.

“Anyway..." Tiffany fumbled over her words, tongue thick in her mouth. “Anyone you like the look of here tonight? It's Halloween – everyone's got their swag-thang on!"

Rachel exhaled sharply through her nostrils and squeezed her fingertips into Tiff's arm as she held her upright. Her fingernails bit and the scantily dressed pixie yelped.

“Ow! Why'd you do that?"

“What?" Rachel rubbed over the spot, smoothing the redness from her skin. “Sorry, didn't mean to. Um..."

She cast about her mind. What had Tiff's question been again?

“No, there's no one I really fancy here," she affected a lofty tone, nose turned up. “Pete's already tried a pass at me. Everyone here's such a..." She waved her hand. “A loser...you know? There's no one half-decent anymore."

“Yeah, well, I guess when you've slept with most of them, you've gone and done it all, haven't you?"

Tiffany snorted into her drink, drops of brown liquid trickling down her chin. Rachel stiffened, her stare falling frosty enough to have chilled the warmest of smiles. Tiff, however, had no warmth left to cool, her alabaster smooth skin pressed to the swell of Rachel's breasts through her dress.

“It's kind of your thing, isn't it? Getting it on with everyone and anyone? Why wouldn't you mind Pete stoking the old fire, hey?"

Rachel set her shoulders back.

“That's not my thing," Rachel growled, pinching the fat under Tiffany's arm. “You should know that! God, Tiffany! Maybe I've changed – alright? Can't you get that?"

Yelping, Tiffany scowled and thrust herself away, long nails scraping down Rachel's arm.

“Alright, alright," Tiffany snapped, throwing her cup away. “Jeez, I dunno what's gotten into you lately. One minute you want to screw everyone in sight and next you don't. And there's no need to pinch either! That hurts!"

It was meant to hurt, Rachel thought, not without a flicker of pleasure at Tiffany's pain.

Running her fingers through her air, Tiffany composed herself. Her brown hair was streaked through with purple glitter and she ran a finger under her eyes to catch any stray lumps of mascara. Straightening, she flashed Rachel a toothy smile, one eyebrow raised. The smudge of sparkly lip gloss on her teeth somewhat detracted from the sultry effect.

“Alright, so we got that out of the way. You're not interested."

She winked and leaned in close to Rachel as if confided a well kept secret.

“That wolf-dude over there's got his eye on you though..." Tiffany tapped the side of her nose. “He's got to be a better catch than Peter."

Rachel's eyes were searching for the wolf – werewolf? – before her mind caught up with what she was doing. The werewolf frolicked on the dance floor, hips swaying as he mingled with the crowd, eyes closed and costume lips parted. Black fur coated his costume from snout to hind paws and he walked as if on his toes, costume even accounting for the different body structure that a real werewolf could potentially have. Rachel raised her eyebrows. It was certainly a more impressive conversation than a werewolf impersonation.

“So..." Tiff giggled and pressed her cheek to Rachel's, following her line of sight. “What do you think? Bet he's a hottie!"

Rachel screwed up her face, prettily outlined lips puckering in distaste. The werewolf was pretty bulky, most likely from the costume. There was no telling.

“Ew, I don't even know what's under that costume," she shot back. “What if he's fat? Or ugly?"

“Yeah..." Tiff sighed and pouted. “You're probably right. It's only the weird ones that don't come in real costumes."

“It is a real costume – better than a lot here."

Tiffany studied her nails.

“Oh – puh-leaze, you know as well as me that the mask is covering something. We've all been there the morning after. At least when someone's wearing costumes like this," she pointed to the rest of the crowd, “you can see what you're getting."

“Okay, okay, if you say so." Rachel eyed her friend, still unsteady. “You gonna be good around the party on your own?"

“Oh, yeah, yeah!" Tiff was already walking away, round booty swaying. “I'll find someone sweet for you too!"

Rachel sighed. She'd had more than her fair share of 'sweet' guys in her young age. She was only twenty-one and it already felt like she'd been and done it all! But there was a party to enjoy and she could come up with no reason not to show her face for at least a little while longer. Otherwise, people would start to talk if she left early and she'd had enough of gossip. Best to keep a smile on.

Making her way to the drinks table, she poured herself a cup of some dubious looking pink punch and took a sip. It was too sweet for her taste and she wrinkled her nose, tipping the cup back and downing it in one. A bit of liquid confidence wouldn't hurt to loosen her up, though she knew she'd do well to avoid overdoing it. She sighed. One drink often led to many, however, a cycle she found herself caught in too many times. By this point, it was near enough inevitable.

“Hey."

Rachel was growing tired of that greeting. The wolf loomed over her, standing a good head and shoulders taller as he leaned past to grab his own drink from the table. His long, soft fur brushed her arm and she started: it felt real.

“That's a pretty good costume," she said, the words out of her mouth before she could stop them. “Where'd you get it?"

His amber eyes blinked slowly.

“A little place down the road, I forget what it's called."

His voice was musical, lilting as if from another age, and rolled naturally off his wolfen lips. The jaw of the costume moved with him and Rachel stared in awe as she caught a flash of teeth that seemed to gleam with saliva. She could have clapped her hands together in delight. So realistic! How could she not be intrigued?

The wolf tipped the cup back into his mouth, fur ruffled as he gulped it down. He half-turned away, interest waning, but Rachel stepped closer, as close as she could be without touching him. His fur was naked but he didn't seem to be larger in the waistline than anything else she would have spent time with.

Maybe he wasn't that bad after all. She took a drink from the table and sipped it speculatively, rearranging her wings so that they protruded from either side of her back more prominently. He made no comment and surveyed the party, head turning slowly as he swept his gaze from one end of the dance floor to the other.

She peered around him, eyes grazing down the line of his chest to where the pattern of his fur suggested muscle underneath.

“So where are you looking out of then?" She stood on tiptoes, trying to look into his eyes, fascination getting the better of her. “

“My eyes?" He blinked. “Just like you."

He shrugged, eyes seeming to darken.

“You ask a great many questions."

“It is a very good costume." She huffed and folded her arms. “Do you really expect people to not ask questions about it?"

The wolf shook his head and leaned in, putting his muzzle very close to her face. Rachel squeaked and tried to step away as he closed his paw around her wrist. She trembled. He was warm.

“I'd rather ask questions about you."

“Me?" She swallowed hard. “What do you want to know about me? I thought everyone knew about me already."

The wolfman studied her and she shivered under his gaze, shifting her weight. He had to be looking through plastic resin eyes or something – there was no way he could stare so intensely otherwise. Whatever it was, it made chills crawl down Rachel's spine. She ran her finger across her lower lip, checking her lipstick as she took a moment to gather herself.

“There's nothing to say about me, I'm just me," she said, the words feeling stupid even as she said them. “What do you want to know?"

The wolf didn't answer and tipped another drink into his maw, tossing the empty cup on the table. She fidgeted and bit her lip, casting her eyes about for an exit route. Tiffany was laughing with a group of scantily dressed women. Rachel's lips turned down in the tiniest of frowns. One friend at a whole party and not even a very good one at that. There was no one she could escape to. And yet the notion made her set her shoulders back and stand up a little taller.

She'd just have to look after herself then. She could handle one measly guy dressed up in a pathetic wolf costume. He probably was ugly anyway if he wasn't fat.

Taking a drink, Rachel folded her manicured nails around the cup and sipped. Let him leave. She settled her weight comfortably into her heels. She wasn't one to back down and turn coward with her tail between her legs. Smirking, Rachel looked him up and down. The wolf would do better to scarper back to his mother with his tail tucked down!

Tilting his head to the left, the wolf gave her a very strange look. Rachel peered closer, looking over the rim of her cup. Had his pupils...moved that time?

Impossible.

She took a drink to steady herself. It was a trick of the costume or the light. But it wouldn't unnerve her – oh no!

“All right." He nodded. “You had fewer questions for me than I expected, in the end. I had thought you would be a more interesting chase."

He rubbed the back of his neck, biceps flexing.

“All in all, you are as easy prey as all the others before you."

Rachel raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth, a snappy retort conceiving and dying on the tip of her tongue. The wolf grinned, muzzle moving far more than for speech, and licked his face, tongue lapping down the side of his muzzle and flicking around. Rachel's heart drummed quicker and quicker, shock freezing her in place as her hands hung limply at her sides. Jaw dropped, her mind couldn't catch up with what instinct understood in an instant.

As the wolf grinned, the woman stared, gobsmacked.

That wasn't a costume.

That tongue was very real. And not human. Far, far, far from human.

Jaw working, Rachel fought for words that would not come and the wolf slunk closer, teeth glinting in the low light.

“Is that..." Rachel's eyes widened and she stumbled back a step, heel twisting beneath her foot. “Your tongue..."

The gears in her head whirred – but not quickly enough. Pinning Rachel between the drinks table and his body, his paws closed around her waist and, before she could shriek for any kind of help, he had her up on his shoulder and was sprinting through the party to god knows where. A shriek ripped itself from Rachel's throat and her cheeks warmed to hear the raw fear lacing her voice.

But werewolves didn't exist! They were a Halloween joke! Just like vampires!

Rachel jerked her body as viciously as she could, fighting to twist out of his grasp. His claws only cut in all the deeper.

“What the –" Rachel slammed her fist into the wolf's shoulder blade, slumped over his shoulder like a sack of fresh meat. “Get the fuck off me! Put me down!"

Her words lacked the effect she'd hoped for, falling weakly on deaf ears. Were there better words to set a werewolf straight when he was hauling you off?

The wolf laughed, tongue rasping out to lick the side of his muzzle. And, even though she didn't want to believe what her eyes told her, the warmth of his body seeping through fur and claws cutting through her dress told a different tale. Rachel squealed, hair falling messily about her face as she twisted and writhed like a snake. The wolf snorted and squeezed his arm more tightly around her, stilling further movement.

“Too late, pretty one," he snarled, lip curling back from his teeth. “Much, much too late for you. I had my eye on you from the start and you were too wrapped up in yourself to notice what was right in front of you."

He looked back at her as he ran, pushing party-goers out of the way, amber eyes dancing and dark.

“You're all mine now!"

Rachel screamed and beat her fists into his back to no avail, clutching at random guests. A couple dressed as a unicorn and a girl with pigtails and a backpack flashed by, surprise crossing their faces, and a man with his questionable covered with a pizza box howled with laughter. A lady with white hair cropped above her shoulders and a decidedly blank expression turned her head slowly to face her as she approached, a trickle of fake blood oozing from the corner of her mouth. Rachel lunged for her and the zombie broke form and leapt back with a shriek, hands flying up as if to fend her off. The crowd paid attention at last but not in the way Rachel wanted them to.

“There she goes!" A man dressed as a slutty nurse in oversized red heels crowed. “Pete!"

He laughed as Rachel squealed, pinched between the werewolf's shoulder and neck.

“You've missed your chance, Pete!" He clapped a dejected Tarzan on the shoulder, laughing only harder when he was shrugged off boyishly. “She's gone and got herself a wolfman now! Likes the fur!"

“Better than you ever got out of her."

“Werewolf!"

“Nothing more than she always gets!"

“Help me, you fucking idiots!"

She screamed, pounding closed fists into the werewolf's back. He grunted, ears twitching, but otherwise gave no indication that he had even felt her moving. Slutty nurse threw his head back, cupped his hands around his mouth and howled, swiftly joined by others at the party. Some didn't even know what they were howling for but did it anyway, fuelled by alcohol and the entertainment in Rachel's plight. Everyone knew what Rachel was like, after all, and to see her running off with a guy was certainly nothing unusual at all.

Rachel swore and cursed and screamed to no avail as the howling rose, broken and twisted. Beneath her, the wolf chuckled throatily and her heart plummeted into her dangling heels. One of her shoes had fallen off while the other rapped uselessly against his broad chest.

Her reputation had proven her downfall. Tears welled up in her eyes as heat churned in her stomach and she raked her nails through her captor's fur, seeking skin. The fucker!

The werewolf did not seem to notice her on his shoulder as he raced into the host's house, whipping through the opposite side of the makeshift dance floor in their yard and up the stairs to the door. Rachel shrieked and sobbed past further guests as they pointed and laughed, burying her face into the werewolf's dark fur. It was oddly comforting, turning her world black with flickering lights around the edges, the sound of the party a rapidly distant burble.

Yet it did not still the fear in her heart.

Pattering up the main staircase with barely a sound, Rachel heard a creak and a slam and suddenly was airborne. Landing heavily on someone else's bed – she could not say it was an unfamiliar sensation – she sank into the mattress and groaned, pressing her hand to her stomach. The werewolf stood between her and the door and wagged his tail, mouth gaping in what she thought may have been his version of a smile.

“Better now?"

Rachel stared.

“You just hauled me through a party – a goddamn living werewolf – and you're asking me if I'm better now?"

He put his ears back, tail stilling.

“What's so wrong with that?"

“What are you going to do with me?" She shot back, doing her best to keep the tremble out of her voice.

There was no point screaming. Everyone already knew where she was and wasn't going to help. And what could she do – go to the police and claim a werewolf had kidnapped her? Rachel's mouth twisted, a smear of lipstick dabbed below her lower lip.

The werewolf grinned and bounced on the balls of his hind paws.

“What am I going to do? That should be evident already, my dear Rachel."

Bounding on the bed, he brought his paws down on either side of her stomach with a low 'woof' and lapped her face keenly. She shrunk back, certain that he was just tasting her in preparation for the main event, but the wolf dropped down her body, back legs sliding off the bed as he grabbed her thighs and nipped at the hem of her dress. He lapped at her bare calves as the human woman squirmed and kicked out uselessly, her last heel dangling off as the werewolf's strength kept her securely in place. She made as if to push at his head and drew her arms back a moment later, visions of the wolf's jaws closing around her wrist with an almighty crack of breaking bone flashing through her mind.

Only her voice remained her last weapon.

“What are you doing?" Rachel shrieked as the werewolf nuzzled up her legs. “For the love of god, I'll do anything – just please don't eat me!"

She tried to push her legs together, but he was persistent. The wolf nudged them further apart until his eager tongue swiped the inside of her thigh. She liked that when a lad did it to her...but not a werewolf! Cheeks burning, she loathed the tingle of heat warming between her inner thighs and bravely closed her hand around the top side of his muzzle, putting all her weight on his head to push him away. He might have moved an inch back at best.

“Get off me!" Rachel hissed through clenched teeth, neck pink as the heat grew against her will, the werewolf's tongue snaking higher and higher. “What do you want from me?"

She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, hating how weak her voice sounded. It was not as if the werewolf was just going to stop because she told him to in words that wouldn't have caused a lad with drink down his throat to stop.

To her surprise, however, the werewolf looked up, ears slanted to the sides.

“Is that not clear already?" He licked his lips and laid his head on her now bare thigh, dress pushed up nearly to her hips. “You are a very attractive human, Rachel. And I have heard many things about you in only my short time at this human gathering."

She rolled her eyes.

“So the fact that I've fucked a lot of men makes you want to sleep with me?"

He shook his head.

“That is merely a side note. I have heard of your beauty and your experience in being a pleasing partner."

Rachel pressed her fingers to her temples, the room and the lampshade hanging from the ceiling spinning as if she was on a fairground ride. And then her lips were moving before she had actually called on them to speak, tongue looser with drink.

“I haven't actually slept with any men," she said slowly, the confession teetering on the tip of her tongue before spilling forth like water. “It's just a rumour that grew and grew. I didn't want anyone thinking I'd never had sex, not at this age. The boys just made it worse and worse, saying I did things I never would do."

She let her head fall back to the bed with a heavy sigh, breasts heaving.

“And I let them go along with it like the fool I am. All for the sake of appearances and sticking in with the popular crowd. How ridiculous. And now look where I am."

The werewolf studied her, trailing his paw up between her breasts. Shivering, Rachel fought not to arch into his touch.

“You react strangely for one who claims to be a virgin."

“I let them do other things with me," she admitted. “I used my mouth. I just never wanted to go that far. It didn't feel right."

She gulped, forcing down the lump in her throat.

“And now I'm so old that losing my virginity to someone – anyone – seems to be freaking impossible."

The wolf's ears pricked.

“I believed you to be twenty-one? That does not seem to be a great age."

“That's old when it comes to losing your virginity."

He nuzzled up her body, swiping his tongue around her breasts through the fabric of her dress until the white fabric grew sheer and clung to the points of her perky nipples. Without thinking, she moaned breathily and clung to the bed sheets, mind drifting. It didn't seem like the wolf was going to eat her after all and alcohol made her limbs slow and heavy, her mind more open to suggestion. And his eyes shimmered with kindness. She smiled back at him, running her fingers through the fur atop his skull and down the back of his neck.

“Do you have a name? At least tell me your name?"

Tilting his head to the side, the wolf considered the question.

“The closest equivalent in your language would be Kinnison."

“Kinnison," Rachel repeated, trying out the feel of his name in her mouth. “I like it."

He flashed his teeth in a sudden grin, tongue lolling out between sharp teeth.

“I'm glad!"

He lunged on top of her, tail wagging, and lapped her neck, nipping and licking until she squirmed and clung to him, forgetting for a moment that a werewolf was on top of her and not the pleasurable attentions of a man. He nuzzled her cheek and pressed his tongue to her lips in a tentative kiss. She opened her mouth to accept him, tongues brushing and dancing between their mismatched lips as her hips arched up to meet the hard bulk of his body.

“Rachel, will you take a wolf to be your first?" He growled softly against her lips as they broke for breath. “You have waited for the right time."

He pulled back, looking into her eyes.

“Is now the right time for you? I may go and find another human, if you prefer."

Rachel gaped, pretty mouth forming a perfect 'O'. Kinnison chuckled softly to himself and pressed his lips to hers once more, forcing his long tongue inside to play with hers.

“You're actually asking me?" She forced out, breath more difficult to catch than she'd expected.

Kinnison regarded her seriously.

“My victims are not forced. Mating is an act of pleasure." He rolled his shoulders. “And I would not stoop so low as to feed on humans I actually enjoyed the company of. That is for mutts, not purebreds like myself, to engage in."

Rachel's head spun and she bit her lip, thoughts racing. Did she want to? Kinnison had warmed something within her, a desire that she had not thought she could have. And there was something irrefutably alluring about the wolf. He curled his strong paw around her thigh, thumb all too close to the searing heat that begged her to throw caution to the wind. Her underwear clung to her sex, damp with arousal that could not be denied. Yet her body could be a traitor too. As she tried to think, Kinnison returned to lapping her breasts, sending sparks through her body from the peaks of her nipples, too sensitive from his attentions.

Oh...to hell with that!

“Yes."

Kinnison needed no further encouragement and howled as he dove between Rachel's thighs, tail wagging fervently. He met no resistance worming her dress up to her waist and groaned as he swept his tongue over her sodden underwear, shoulders shuddering. Carefully, as the woman trembled, he pushed her cotton undergarment to the side with his flexible tongue and pressed his tongue deep inside her. Rachel bucked and moaned, fingers curling into the rumpled red bed sheets.

“Oh..."

Words failed her as warmth – a far cry from the fleeting pleasures she'd had with men who were more interested in themselves – spread through her body, heated and wanton. His tongue flicked over the nub of flesh that made her senses sing and he spared a moment to wriggle her underwear down her thighs to toss them aside: they'd only get in the way.

Stroking his head, Rachel twisted pleasurably, losing herself to pleasure as it washed over her mind in wave after delicious wave. Kinnison lapped and dipped his tongue into her sex, dragging it all the way up and over her clit. Pressing his tongue to the button of flesh, he bore down on it with teasing flicks and swipes until Rachel moaned and pushed into his muzzle, hips arching up trembling from the bed. Circling her clit with the tip of his tongue, Kinnison suddenly bore down and locked his lips around the soft bud, suckling until she squirmed and threatened to break from his grasp, pleasure taking her body to the very brink of what was bearable. Rachel panted, sweat dripping from her forehead. The wolf grinned and licked his lips, tail still wagging. He had a prize indeed!

Flipping about, Kinnison moved over her body so that his knees rested on either side of her head, his fleshy red shaft protruding from a sheath so neatly tucked into his thick fur that Rachel had not noticed it earlier. She flushed, curling her fingers around the shaft. She couldn't get her arm in quite the right position, but she couldn't make her fingers meet on either side either. As he lovingly lapped her pussy, she pushed herself up from the bed with one hand, nuzzling beneath his shaft to where a pair of soft, furry balls hung, just begging for attention.

Tentatively, she kissed and lapped her way up his shaft from his balls, saliva making the red rod of flesh slick and shiny. There was even a half-formed knot at the base, swelling with the implication of what it would become in sex. Rachel shivered. Cupping his balls, she squeezed gently, emboldened by his whimpers, and parted her lips around the tip of the tapered shaft, suckling until her cheeks hollowed in. Salty pre cum lathered her lips and she slid down further until he hit the back of her throat, leaving a good few inches of his thick shaft outside her lips.

She gulped, pumping what remained of his shaft with her fingers and palm, so large that she wondered how she had managed to get even that much into her mouth, let alone her pussy. Rachel's eyes widened. Would that even fit? She wouldn't have to wait long to find out. Shuddering, the wolf whined, shaft throbbing with those painted lips stretched around the tip.

Growling, he dragged his shaft reluctantly from her mouth with a wet slurp of saliva and pre cum, a sticky tendril connecting his tip to her lips for a fragile moment before breaking. His paws came down on her shoulders and Rachel squeaked as the wolf loomed over her, eyes shining and teeth bared. Yet his tail still wagged and she groaned deep in the back of her throat as he angled his hips, the head of his cock sliding over her soaked cunny. Kissing her neck, he nipped and rumbled against her throat, muscles quivering.

“As I said," he growled against her neck, teeth grazing flesh as he lapped. “You're mine now."

The funny thing was, Rachel did not mind that.

Bearing down on her, he dipped his hips expertly and Rachel knew, in that instance, that she was not his first as he was hers. As if he had aimed perfectly at a target in perfect line of sight, the slender head of his member nudged down her pussy lips, delighting in their wetness, and pressed into her slit. Grinding her teeth together, Rachel beat back a groan as she was stretched, inch after inch of that monster shaft sliding into her warmth. Yet, despite its size, it eased in as if it belonged there, the werewolf nipping and nuzzling at the bare expanse of her throat and breasts, hips juddering.

Coming up against a barrier within Rachel, Kinnison paused, ears flicking and, slowly, dragged his cock back. Rachel whimpered at the emptiness, gasping as he slammed home again, hips working like a piston now that he had determined just how much of him her hungry pussy could swallow. Her tightness sealed itself around him and he growled as he thrust, nipping and tugging at her nipples as she squealed and gasped for breath that could not be caught.

Rachel's body burned, virginity kissed away and raw sexuality thrust into the open. Could this be how sex was supposed to feel? The air seemed to crackle between the werewolf and the human as the wolf tenderly closed his jaws around her neck in a bite, letting her feel the strength behind the pressure of his teeth. Although she shook like a leaf in the wind, Rachel knew in her heart that Kinnison would never close them completely, letting her life blood flow as her body grew still. There was something different behind his eyes – something that she'd not even seen in the male companions she usually kept.

His love-bite kindled greater heights of desire and she moaned wantonly, planting her feet on the bed and pushing up to him, eagerly meeting his thrusts stroke for stroke, inching deeper and deeper. The fire in her loins built and built as she twisted beneath Kinnison, only kept in place by his strong paws.

Kinnison snarled, releasing her throat, and yanked himself free of her, grabbing Rachel's hips and flipping her onto her stomach. She gasped, bouncing lightly, and yelped as he drew her hips up from the bed, pulling her onto all fours. She would have complained at the sudden loss of him, but howled instead as his shaft sank home, stretching her out as she lowered her head between her arms, hair a tangled mess around her face.

The wolf's thrusts quickened, hips slamming into her backside, and she was dimly aware of his furry balls tickling her clit, grinding in as he panted and drooled above her. She stretched her arms out in front of her body and Kinnison snatched them up, pinning her down – as if she would have wanted to escape! The new position struck a pleasurable note deep within her and Rachel cried out as she teetered on the brink of climax that had only before been brought to her body by the cause of her own hands.

And she was helpless in his paws, wanting all he had to offer her and more. The wolf's breath grew laboured as he growled and rolled them on to his back, paws on Rachel's hips to help her ride him, round buttocks bouncing as she slammed down. Her legs quivered and she let the wolf guide her, lips parted and eyes half-lidded as she lost herself to pleasure, her world narrowing until it no longer seemed to contain anyone else but the wolf and herself, his knot grinding against her strained pussy lips as if he could secure entry. Rachel moaned.

When Kinnison drove Rachel back onto all fours, hips slamming into hers, she knew it was time. And she didn't think she could hold back the building pressure any longer, teeth digging into the inside of her lower lip and metallic, rich blood flooding under her tongue.

Hissing through clenched teeth, Rachel rolled her head back and forth, knees braced against the bed as the wolf's thrusts rocked her body forward. Pillows scrunched up beneath her arms and she panted open-mouthed as he claimed her, the trembling heat within her body building to an explosive crescendo. Writhing, Rachel's toes flexed and she screwed up her face, pressing it into the sheets as it hit.

She yowled like a wildcat through orgasm, hips jerking erratically up to the wolf, driving in with shorter, needier thrusts as he tilted his head back. Rachel lost herself to ecstasy, damp forehead squeezed into the bed as if for an anchor in the storm, and the wolf howled, a long, low sound of joy erupting from his throat. His paw dropped, squeezing his knot as it swelled outside her cunny, too large for him to even consider locking them together in the throes of climax. His cock twitched and throbbed, balls pressed up close to her stretched cunny as he pulsed inside, ropes of something hot and wet splattering her insides. It was as if every sensation had been enhanced through orgasm, the wolf awakening a deeper sense within her that went beyond what human beings should normally have felt during sex.

Whimpering as he filled her, Rachel turned her cheek to the bed and looked up at the wolf panting as he dropped his head to her neck and pressed his wet nose into the crook between her neck and shoulder.

“Rachel..."

She groaned and murmured an incomprehensible reply, words too thick on her tongue to be vocalised. Her eyelids drooped and Kinnison's paws slowly lowered her fully to the bed as his softening cock slipped out, a drool of cum oozing deliciously from her cunny. The wolf licked his lips and lapped up the mess as his partner rolled over, exhausting claiming the beautiful lines of her body.

Rachel collapsed on the bed, a sweet dreamless sleep that she had not experienced for what seemed like months on end claiming her as securely as the wolf had. Sleepless, Kinnison watched her drift off and smiled as he brushed her hair back from her face, tucking a wayward strand back behind her ear.

Yet their time together was all too short. A werewolf could mingle, but for a time, when humanity believed him to be wearing a disguise. It was the curse of his kind.

He dropped a kiss on Rachel's cheek, smiling as she murmured in sleep and reached for him. But he could not stay and backed out of reach of her arms, ears tilted back sadly.

He leapt to the window and slid it open, the night breeze curling into the room with a refreshing chill. He paused framed in the window, the full moon and twinkling stars in the background as he looked down over the rooftops and ongoing party, nose twitching. But he couldn't stop himself from looking back one last time at the human woman who had warmed something he couldn't explain deep in the vestiges of his soul.

Bringing his paw to his lips, he blew her a kiss that she would not see.

“Time will bring us together again, Rachel. I promise."

He swallowed hard.

“I will make it so."

And, with one last look, Kinnison disappeared into the night.