by Abby Knox
He saw her pupils dilate and watched the blood plump her lips. She was ready right now. Why not lock themselves in the pantry right now and git ’er done before the children even realize Mommy’s home? They were both as athletic as the day they met—pretty much—and they had repeatedly defiled every room, closet and nook in this big old lake house, time and time again.
Ash could pick his wife up and take her right now, and she wouldn’t resist. And he would still be able to fuck the shit out of this crazy woman every other night of the week. He was tempted to try it. Ash looked down at that sweet face. She was looking up at him with a viciously arched eyebrow, like she was reading his mind. She was daring him to try something. To step out of line. Her lips were so close to his he could already taste them. He clenched his jaw.
She read his yearning for her like a book. Her lips parted, and she revealed her feline fangs for a quick moment, just enough for him to see them and to watch her run her tongue over those sharp, lethal edges before retracting them again.
Shit. It was unbelievable, the control this woman had over sex and over the release of her beast. Ash’s control was more black and white; but he could never just allow his fangs to show themselves. Once he crossed that threshold, there was no stopping the wolf.
Her hand was still on his dick, and it was now hard as granite. This was torture. Ash’s hands moved up away from her jaw to the back of her head, where his fingers laced into her waves. He gave a gentle tug. Her eyes widened; she hadn’t been expecting that, and in response, she let out the faintest panther growl that turned into a purr as soon as their lips touched.
She might make him insane, but she was always worth it. Those lips of hers warmed to him always and invited him to do anything he wanted and promised to do all manner of unspeakable things. Everything else fell away whenever their lips and tongues met. It had been that way between them since day one, and god willing, the two of them would still be getting it on when the kids had grown and left the nest. Or left the den, as it were. Of course, there was still no telling what kind of shifter creatures the little ones would grow up to be.
Speaking of kids. Rosemary’s hand jerked away from Ash’s crotch at the sound of several pairs of little feet pattering down the hall from the family room.
Damn.
She tried to pull away from his kiss, but Ash was not having it. He let go of her hair and lifted her feet off the ground with a big bear hug, their lips still fully engaged in a serious snog.
“Eeeew!” It was the favorite new phrase of the five-year-old twins, Beth and Leon.
Ash put his wife down and promised the twins that one day, they would understand. Before the twins could tackle their mom for a hug, the newly awakened toddler came jetting in line ahead of them. “Mama!” Robbie cried as Rosemary scooped him up for hugs and kisses.
She cooed over her littlest. “You’re so warm, did you just wake up from your nap? Your daddy’s a hot sleeper, too.”
Ash nodded, “Yeah, he napped, but I reserve the right to not tell you where exactly he fell asleep. Everything’s a little chaotic out in the back of the house right now.”
But the toddler chirped, “I woke up on a pile of Daddy’s undershirts!”
Rosemary laughed and shot Ash a look that said Ash had earned himself a spanking later.
He narrowed his eyes playfully at his wife. She arched an eyebrow at him again.
She had him by the short hairs, and she always would.
And Ash was pretty much fine with that. Pretty much.
Rosemary
Lionel and Betsy DuChamps came with their driver in their shiny black Suburban promptly at five p.m. on Friday. Rosemary smiled to herself as she watched her beefy, bossy daddy in his three-piece suit wrangle her five kids into car seats and boosters. She was deeply grateful, but also wished they would hurry up. She had just finished a five-mile run and wanted to wash the sweat and trail dirt off her body before Ash came home from his last-minute sex errands.
The driver efficiently stacked all of the kids’ suitcases, sleeping bags and backpacks in the way back.
This was the first used vehicle that old Lionel had ever bought. The man did not drive, and he certainly would never normally be seen around the social clubs of New Orleans in an old Chevy. He was a pristine Lincoln man, through and through. But Rosemary had convinced him he was going to need space for not just kids, but also all of the stuff that comes along with having kids.
It had only taken one spilled sippy cup of milk to convince him to invest in a used vehicle to transport his grandchildren. “It says spill-proof on the packaging,” he had sputtered.
Rosemary smirked. “What are you gonna do, Daddy? Sue the manufacturer?”
He had blustered, “Hell no, why fill the pockets of the lawyers when I can just buy the company and fire everyone?”
She had shaken her head and rolled her eyes at the time. But then, several weeks later, that brand of sippy cup had mysteriously disappeared off the shelves. The whole thing had given Rosemary the willies, reflecting on that kind of power. It haunted her enough that she convinced her daddy to offer all those laid-off people jobs with his company, which he eventually did.
On this day, though, it warmed her heart to watch the old man with her kids. She laughed at the thought of him taking them all for Happy Meals and shouting at them while they went apeshit all over the McDonald’s play area.
“Have fun!” she said with a wave as her daddy finally buckled himself in and the driver shifted into gear.
Her mother, Betsy, leaned across her husband in the captain’s chair and said, “Have fun! You two enjoy your time together. Go make me some more grandbabies, will you?” Betsy was beaming. She was the happiest grandmother anyone had ever seen. Lionel roared, half laughing, half horrified, “Oh god, please no more!”
Rosemary waved as they sped off down the long drive back to the main road. When the gates closed behind them, Rosemary turned tail up the front stairs and went inside, shut off the porch lights and locked the massive double doors behind her. By god, nobody was going to interrupt this weekend alone with Ash.
As she made her way up the stairs to the master suite, she kicked a teddy bear off the landing that fell down and landed on the piano, which itself was covered in blankets from a recent lesson in epic fort-making. Rosemary thought to herself she should have hired some help to get the house clean before sexy time began, but honestly, she could not have waited another second while someone ran a dust mop over the furniture or picked up Legos. An old money debutante through and through, she certainly wasn’t going to do it.
Time was ticking.
She pushed open the door of the bedroom, ready to strip down, shower and dress in her new teddy. Not that Ash needed any encouraging. She removed her smartwatch and checked the time. She would have exactly ten minutes before Ash would get home from running errands. He was probably out to get her some espresso ice cream —always a necessity when taking a break for sustenance while on a weekend sexcapade.
But when she looked up, she thought briefly she had entered the wrong room. She took a beat. Nope, this was the right room. There was their bed. But, there, on the other end of the room, suspended from the ceiling, was a contraption she had never seen before.
Well, she had seen sex swings in porn and had actually looked at some in an online catalog once. She must have forgotten to erase her browser history because here, in front of her, was some version of one. It looked way more complex than what she had expected. There were straps, buckles, harnesses—way more things going on than necessary. She moved forward and ran her hand over the accessories.
“Shit. He’s gonna get an extra spanking for this,” she muttered.
“Oh, no, baby girl.” Rosemary startled at the sudden sound of Ash’s voice behind her in the doorway. He was wearing a wicked grin and nothing else. “We are ’bout done with my discipline. It’s past time to get you under control.”
Rosemary cocked her head. “You know,
in ten years we’ve never tried any crazy shit other than scarves and feathers and vibrators. This is not even a normal swing. This is some large, varsity shit, Ash. You sure you’re ready for this?”
Ash crossed his arms in front of him, taking a stance of authority. “Yes ma’am. It’s custom made. I had it shipped from Germany.”
“In five days?”
“It was super expensive, but I got it done, just for you. Let’s do this.”
Rosemary smiled. She liked it when he took charge like this. “Lemme just shower first, babe. I’m a mess from my run.”
But her man shook his head. “Nope. I want you salty.”
She was instantly wet at the thought of how lucky she was.
Moments later, Rosemary was naked and was sort of half-strapped into the swing, one leg on the floor. Confused and lost, she examined the other harness while Ash was reading the manual out loud to her in German. Nothing seemed to make sense with this thing.
“Babe, I think my foot goes here,” she said, holding up a strap, “and my other hand goes over here,” she said, cocking her head to the side as she looked at a mysterious buckle at the end of another strap.
Ash grunted. “I don’t know, babe. I can only make out every third word of these directions. I should have stuck with German instead of quitting after half a semester.”
Rosemary stuck her other foot in a thing that looked like a stirrup and sighed with exasperation. “Well, how did you manage to get it attached to the ceiling?”
Ash looked up, “Well, I am a man with power tools, I can figure out how to bolt shit into walls and ceilings.”
“Ugh,” huffed Rosemary as she struggled with the various straps, stirrups and harnesses. “Those screws are gonna leave a mark, so I hope you know how to replace drywall, too.”
Ash shrugged as he continued to stare at the German manual. “The guys will help with that.”
Rosemary was trying to hoist her bottom into the main strap without losing her balance. “That will be cute. Invite the wolf pack over to fix the ceiling we fucked up with our sex toy.”
“Baby, the other guys are way kinkier than we are. Pretty sure Vann and Gigi are unable to do it without icing and various carbohydrates; Gavin once told me he and Chastity get turned on by tattoo needles; Penny and Bobby…well, I’m pretty sure they wolf out and go on rodent-killing sprees and then do in the woods…just a guess.”
Rosemary tried using all of her upper body strength to pull herself this way and that to get situated. “Yeah, we’re all freaks, I get it. By the way, why aren’t you the one in the swing right now?”
Ash looked up, like the thought never occurred to him. “Uhh…I don’t know. I guess I’ve only seen pornos where the female is in the swing.”
She was getting exasperated. “Well, sure, but babe, none of those had this many straps and things. I thought they were supposed to be super simple.”
“But this one was the most expensive one in the world!” Ash said, on the verge of getting annoyed with his wife. “I was trying to surprise you!”
Suddenly, Rosemary let out a shriek and tumbled to the floor on her ass.
Ash dropped the manual and was cradling Rosemary in half a second. “Oh my god, are you OK?”
Ash
He had wanted to impress his wife with an expensive, complex, over-the-top sex toy and now she was on the floor crying. He had her in his arms and was looking her over for wounds or bruises. He didn’t see any, but she was shuddering.
And then he realized she was not crying at all. She was laughing. Laughing so hard she was crying and could barely breathe.
Her entire little body was convulsing with laughter.
Pretty soon, Ash was laughing, too.
They hugged and laughed for several minutes until they were finally able to speak.
“Baby,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes. “Just bend me over the bed like in the old days and give it to me doggy-style.”
He grinned and smoothed her wild curls back from her face. “The prettiest words I’ve heard all day.”
Moments later, Ash was looking at his favorite view in the whole world: Rosemary’s sweet ass. With one hand, he gripped the curves that graced her backside and with the other hand, reached around and gripped her breasts, teasing her nipples, one and then the other, with the rhythm that matched his thrusting.
She wasn’t moaning yet, which piqued his curiosity. He knew she was enjoying it as her sex was around his manhood, coaxing him on.
“Talk to me, Rosie.”
She turned her head and he saw her flushed face smirking back at him. So she was playing another game with him.
“Come on, Rosie.”
She turned her head away and gripped him so hard he sucked in his breath. “Oh baby. You’re getting me so close. You gotta tell me what’s going on in your head.”
He watched as his saucy female gave the slightest shake of her head.
“I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to get me to wolf out. You’re trying to get me mad so I wolf out and bite you. I told you I don’t want to do that.”
Rosemary turned her head and for the briefest of seconds he saw the panther in her eyes. They turned yellow and the irises changed to that of a feline, and she let out an indescribable yowl of a cat in heat.
Ash, being Ash, lost it. Partially. He refused to fully wolf out, but the sight of those eyes and the sound of the panther sent him into orbit. His fangs came out, and he couldn’t help himself.
When his teeth nipped her skin, just enough to leave a mark, Rosemary shifted so Ash’s shaft hit her G-spot and she cried out in ecstatic surrender.
Her grip on him electrified him into a simultaneous explosion into her core, an explosion that lasted much longer than basic human standards.
“There’s no way you’re not getting pregnant by me tonight,” he whispered as he pulled her in close so her back warmed his chest. He breathed into her neck, his fingers blazing a trail across her glistening, damp skin.
She caught her breath when her most overwhelming waves of pleasure subsided. She purred as he adjusted them so they spooned together on the bed, both beasts sated for the moment.
She reached behind and surprised him by gently gripping him. “Listen,” she said. “I like the swing. We’ll try again later. But for now, all you need to do to get me where you want me is let me see a little bit of the wolf now and then.”
He closed his eyes and buried his face in her wild hair. “Whatever you want, Rosemary.”
A smile crossed his face. She literally and figuratively had him by the short hairs, and he never wanted her to let go.
The End
Part II
Having His Cake
By Abby Knox
Having His Cake
Vann West is a globetrotting celebrity New Orleans chef. He has everything from superhero good looks to a fangirl in every port. But now, he’s only got eyes for one female, and a powerful need for some Big Easy comfort food.
GiGi DuGray a hardworking local cafe owner and pastry chef extraordinaire. A sassy little kitten with big dreams, she’s got no time for local golden boys, but always time to feed a hungry wolf that comes calling.
When they meet, it might be more than just a party on the taste buds. There might even be a little blood. Most definitely, there will be icing. Strange things happen when the beasts are hungry.
Chapter 1
July 2018
GiGi
Few things were better than the gulf breeze in her hair, a book in her lap and a drink in her hand. Most cats are not a fan of water, but GiGi was not most cats.
She took a deep breath and was reminded that nothing back home was falling apart without her. Her days of micromanaging were over.
It was going to take a while to get used to this.
Only true love — and a ridiculous mishap at her cousin’s riverboat wedding last month — could have persuaded her to let it all go for a little while.
GiGi
stood and gazed over the railing of the vessel she now co-captained, and wondered what everybody was up to back in New Orleans.
The wedding had gone smoothly enough for a couple like Ash and Rosemary. More or less.
Sure, shit had gotten a little weird. But in the end: they were married, and Uncle Lionel had shown up to walk his daughter down the aisle. Whether the old man had shown up because of Ash’s crazy voodoo stunt, Bobby’s kidnapping scheme or Vann’s way with words, nobody could be sure. GiGi was sure of one thing only, and that was that all of the groomsmen wolves were individually taking the credit for that caper.
Best of all, GiGi’s masterpiece cake had been the hit of the reception.
Or so, she had heard. GiGi had not been available to receive the accolades, as she had spent the bulk of the reception below deck.
But that’s another story.
Chapter 2
Five months earlier…
GiGi
GiGi DuGrey had no life. Running a new restaurant meant she may as well set up camp 24/7 at work. If that were not crazy enough, it was even crazier to think she could compete in New Orleans. But it was her home, and this was her dream.
Which meant she did everything at GiGi’s Cafe: cook, bake, clean and check in with individual patrons in the dining room.
After closing time on this full-moon night, she was hauling out the trash when the wolf showed up.
“Hi there, Buster. Hungry?” GiGi had already set aside scraps for her furry friend. She knelt down in front of the hulking gray creature and set down a bowl of the leftover giblets from the night’s menu. “Not much of that stuff left for you tonight, Buster. The hipster foodies are actually eating organs these days, if you can believe it.”