by Ava Lore
"No hot water," she said between chattering teeth, and he immediately rose and loped over to her. Still large, but small enough now to fit, he squeezed into the cottage and together they found the master bedroom.
One hopped up onto the bed and pawed the blankets away before reaching down with his nose and throwing them up over himself. He burrowed down into the bed, curling his body tight around beneath the covers until only his nose and tail stuck out.
Michelle laughed at him, and he was sure he was a comical sight, but she understood his purpose and climbed into the bed with him, sticking her icy feet beneath his belly and drawing the blankets up around her shivering body. After a while she warmed up, and once her teeth stopped chattering, she was asleep within seconds.
Her blood had revitalized him. One slept in fits and starts until the sun began to peek over the horizon and he rose and slipped from the bed, normal-sized now, and back in his wolfman guise. Not ideal for hunting, but he would take it. Michelle remained dead to the world in bed, her healing body requiring sleep—and food. Tiptoeing out of the bedroom, he peeked through a window and saw the day was still overcast. Perfect for finding something to eat in the woods. Opening the door, he sniffed the wind and, smelling no humans, he slipped outside and went a-hunting.
When he returned carrying a raccoon carcass in his mouth, Michelle had awoken. Though she wrinkled her nose at his offering, she nevertheless took it from him, butchered it badly on the shores of the lake, and roasted the meat she salvaged in the oven, rubbed with salt and pepper and other herbs she'd scavenged from the cabinets. It couldn't have been the most savory meal—though the smell had been heavenly, the meat was stringy—but she sat at the table, prim and proper as you please, and gobbled every bit of it up. When she was done at last, she turned to face him where he was lounging in front of the warm oven on the kitchen floor.
"You're awfully quiet," she said. "Is something wrong?"
Subject Number One shook his head. "No," he replied. "No-thing to say."
She nodded and leaned back in her chair as she folded her legs under her. "So what now?" she asked.
One only had an inkling of what he thought they should do now, but it didn't want to say it out loud. Now in the light of day, away from their frantic escape and finally removed from the radar, Subject Number One was beginning to have doubts. He didn't like them. He rarely had doubts, and when he did he sometimes mistook them for indigestion. There was no mistaking this feeling, however: as blissful memories of his mate's body began to intrude on his calm and centered thinking, he was growing more and more discomfited that he had lain with his mate in an almost bestial state. Here in the soft light of the kitchen, lit only by the gray day outside, she was beautiful. Sweet. A morsel not meant to be devoured in haste and brutality, and yet he had.
He watched her, filled with shame and a hint of lust, as she pursed her beautiful lips and stared out the window at the gray day.
"I suppose we should try to find Subject Number Four," she said. "Between him and you, we might be able to free the others."
One blinked, shocked. Had she... had she just suggested what he had only barely let himself dream about? He had a mate now, and he needed to protect her. Though he had certainly thought of going back to free his comrades, it was such a dangerous mission that he figured his chances of recapture were over fifty percent. With the help of Four, the odds might improve to a one in two chance of actually making it. And yet she had said we.
"We?" he asked.
She glanced at him in surprise. "Yes, we," she said. "I know the facility. They might not even think to take my fingerprints out of the system. I could help you guys get in."
He flattened his ears against his head. "Too much dan-ger," he said.
She waved a hand. "Not any more dangerous than wandering around in the wilderness waiting to get captured again. They won't expect you to come back. If it's a full moon and you have my blood in you, it could be even more effective. Although you might not be able to fit down the elevator shaft... Four doesn't have a mate, he could go down... oh, shoot, but he'd be a wolf. So it would have to be me. I'm the only one who could get the cages open. I'll need a gun, though..."
Subject Number One knew he should be paying attention as she blithely planned a prison break, but he couldn't help but be hung up on the first part.
"You..." he said, interrupting her. She looked at him expectantly. He tried to rally his thoughts. "You... mate with me? On full moon?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Uh... yes? Of course. Why wouldn't I?"
He sat up. "Not..." He searched for a word that he could say with his inhuman mouth. He finally settled for: "Gross?"
To his shock, her first reaction was to laugh. "What? No. I mean... it's not..." Her cheeks reddened. "It's not like you're an animal," she said at last. "You're a person. Inside an animal."
Her words hurt. "Still gross," he said.
"No," she told him. "Not gross. I... I liked it."
"In bo-dy," he said. "Mate bond."
"No," she said, and laid a hand over her chest. "In here, too. I wanted you, body and all."
For a long moment Subject Number One was certain he hadn't heard correctly, or if he had it hadn't meant what he thought it did. But she was looking at him, open and frank, her palm on her heart, her meaning clear.
It was too much. For months he had fought against his form, as though the outside could change the inside, as though if he spent enough time in the body of a monster he would someday become one inside as well. He loathed his body. It was not him. And yet she accepted it. Wanted it, even. The bond of a mate could be a powerful thing, but she could still feel disgust over her lust for an animal. That she didn't...
The urge to cry again came upon him, and it was physical pain that he could not.
Number One lay down on the kitchen floor, folded his paws over his eyes, and let out a long, keening whine, and in it he felt all his pain leave his body, replaced only by relief.
Michelle stared at him, shocked. Her strong, calm wolfman whining like a puppy? Had her words affected him that much? Abruptly she stood and walked over to where he lay and lowered herself to the floor next to him so she could look him in the eye.
"You think I didn't want it?" she asked, hardly believing what she was hearing.
The confusion in his green eyes was almost comical. "Yes?" he said.
Michelle shook her head. "You could smell how much I wanted you, couldn't you?" she asked.
"Mate bond," he repeated. "Mate bond make you mine."
Reaching out, she ran both hands through his fur, scratching him under his chin. "You are ridiculous," she said. "If I didn't want to mate with you, I wouldn't. I'd go back to the lab. Go back to my old life. Well, sort of. But if it were so terrible, you think I'd let you touch me? I don't think you'd take me if I said no, even if my body said yes."
He blinked at her and whined again, and she knew it was true. He wasn't like the Project. He wouldn't do terrible things only to serve himself. And that was why, no matter what, she was better off with him. She smiled and kissed his head and he sighed in her hands.
"But need own kind," he said, as though he were trying, with one last attempt, to convince her she should throw him away and go back to the humans who had betrayed her.
She took a deep breath. "You bit me," she said, "and I didn't expect it. It was frightening and painful, but it was necessary. I know you wouldn't have done it if you could help it, and I know you wouldn't hurt me if you didn't know it was reversible." She held up her hand, now good, and waggled her fingers before returning it to his throat where she continued to absently run them through his thick fur. "You are my own kind. On the inside. The spirit is more important than the body. What does it matter if someone looks human if they act like a monster?" Dr. Wells' face floated across her inner eye, and she shuddered. "You care about me. You care about other people. You could have killed that priest, but you didn't. You didn't try to kill anyone in our escape, althou
gh you might have."
The pain that flitted across his face at that suggestion made her admire him all the more. She smoothed his brow with a gentle hand, and he sighed in pleasure. Then, in a wholly canine gesture, he crawled forward and placed his head in her lap.
It was huge, and inhuman, but the brain inside, the heart in the chest—those were more human than most of the humans she had met since signing her life away for the promise of good pay and good benefits. Never worth it, but kept in place by the threat of punishment... she had been a coward. She still was a coward. But she wanted to make it up to him, and she could do that by staying with him. She wanted to stay with him. Her heart swelled with something that she didn't want to put a name to yet, and she leaned down and kissed his head to keep herself from confessing something to him that she hadn't yet admitted to herself.
"You're my kind," she said again as she pressed her cheek to the dome of his skull. "Or I want you to be. I want to be brave like you."
At that he drew back. "You brave," he admonished. "You not scared of me. You try help."
"Only after we escaped."
But he shook his head. "You try make life bet-ter. For us."
A lump formed in her throat. "I didn't really succeed."
She had the distinct impression that if he could have, he would have smiled. "You try. Still he-ro-ic. More he-ro-ic. Do with-out know it work."
Michelle closed her eyes. He had such faith in her...
She hadn't known she'd started to cry until he leaned forward, his hot breath puffing over her face, and licked away her tears.
"No cry," he said. "No cry, Mi-shell."
Reaching out, she put her arms around him, and when she finally pulled away she took his pawlike hand in hers and led him to the bedroom.
As though in a familiar dance, they mated again, this time slow and deliberate. His huge body sheltered her tenderly as he mounted her from behind, his whole being striving toward her pleasure. The feel of him moving inside her was bliss, sweet and bitter at the same time—sweet, because of how good it felt, and bitter because she knew it would end. His hands on her body, inhuman, but strong and protective, made her breath come easy and fast, as though she had been freed from some terrible confinement by his touch. And perhaps she had.
The bed creaked beneath his weight with every movement. He undulated against her, and she pushed back, aching and longing. His arms snaked around her, holding her fast against him, and every pant that escaped from between his teeth gusted over her ear, sending shivers through her. As he pushed her inexorably toward climax, he suddenly slipped out of her and turned her around, hooking her legs over his hips before pushing into her again, and the feel of the upturned tip of his cock stroking against the top of her tight channel made her eyes cross and her toes curl.
Twining her arms around him, Michelle pulled him close, moving her hips up to meet his, and when the fur on his pelvis ground over her clit she shuddered and went wild.
She'd never truly let herself go, but in the arms of her beast she knew it was safe. He would hold her up, keep her together, shelter her. If she shattered from the ecstasy, he would put her back together again. She let instinct take over, her hips grinding against his, and it only took a few quick thrusts before she was tumbling into space, her body shuddering and pulling apart under the impact of her orgasm.
Above her, her beast growled and roared and kept plundering her body, until her bliss drew out long and sweet, becoming almost pain before she begged him to come in her and he obliged. Quick hot spurts of cum pumped deep into her core, a primal marking, branding her as his, and when the stream of seed finally subsided he rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him before covering her with the blanket and wrapping his arms around her as his cock swelled and knotted inside her.
Michelle sighed with contentment and laid her head down on his chest. His great, brave heart beat against her ear and she reveled in its strength. She would help him. She would make amends for her time at the facility.
And whatever happened, she would always have him. Her mate.
They weren't alone any longer.
She let her eyes slide closed, and she fell asleep on the sweet swell and fall of his chest, listening to him breathe.
Want to stay updated on my new releases? Sign up for my update list here!
Want teasers, news, and special offers? Sign up for my newsletter here!
Enjoyed Mating the Beast? Then don't miss the first installment in the Project Loup Garou series, Baiting the Beast, the story of Subject Number Four.
EXCERPT:
Bonnie strained against her bonds, aching for something she couldn't even name. She hurt all over, an empty, throbbing pain that only built as the beast nosed her body, and she knew instinctively, though the instinct terrified and confused her, that this creature was the only one in the world who could soothe that pain.
She smouldered, an inferno sleeping under a pile of ashes. Her skin felt electrified, sizzling and popping with need, and when that cold nose, like the nose of a dog, brushed against her thigh and nudged the hem of her skirt aside, she thought she would explode. A moan escaped her, gusting into the air in a swell of mist and dancing in front of her eyes as the beast's nose inched up her leg, closer and closer to her pussy, which felt swollen and sore sandwiched between her thighs, throbbing like a bruise. She needed the beast to touch her.
She was sick. Sick and depraved. Frigid for years, only to get hot and wet over a monster. A monster she still wasn't certain was real. It seemed real enough, of course, but hallucinations always did. Should she fight it, or give in?
Her body was making the choice for her. With every second that passed, she was seduced more and more by the beast, its fearsome appearance belying its delicate, almost tender exploration of her body. Only the deep growls it had loosed and the shine of ivory-white teeth in the feeble moonlight had reminded her that it was dangerous. She wished she could see.
Cold, wet flesh moved her skirt up as hot breath curled underneath the fabric and pooled in the sharp valley of her thighs, like a flood flowing down a mountain to the lake below. Then the nose alighted at the crease between her thigh and pussy, and she moaned and squirmed, struggling to open her legs for it, to allow it access. She nearly sobbed with frustration as the chains bit into her calves, forcing her thighs to stay closed.
"Woman."
Bonnie's eyes flew open. The clearing seemed lighter after the total darkness of her head, and the moon met her gaze. Had... had she just heard the creature speak?...
About the Author
Ava Lore was raised by wombats and lives to corrupt the innocent. When she's not writing
erotic romance, she spends her time thinking about writing erotic romance and drinking enough iced coffee to kill a musk ox.
You can email Ava Lore at [email protected], follow her on twitter (@authoravalore) or visit her at authoravalore.com. She yearns for your approval and always loves to hear from fans.
Want more BBW? More Billionaires? More aliens? More menage? Something entirely different? Let her know!
Read more at Ava Lore’s site.
Other Titles by Ava Lore
The Billionaire’s Muse (A BDSM Erotic Romance):
His Acquisition (The Billionaire’s Muse, #1)
His Canvas (The Billionaire's Muse, #2)
His Inspiration (The Billionaire's Muse, #3)
The Billionaire's Wife (A BDSM Erotic Romance):
Bartered Proposal: The Billionaire's Wife, Part 1
Bartered Seduction: The Billionaire's Wife, Part 2
Bartered Bride: The Billionaire's Wife, Part 3
Bartered Desire: The Billionaire’s Wife, Part 4
Bartered Submission: The Billionaire’s Wife, Part 5
Bartered Passion: The Billionaire’s Wife, Part 6
Bartered Pain: The Billionaire’s Wife, Part 7
Bartered Betrayal: The Billionaire’s Wife, Part 8
Bartered Surrender:
The Billionaire’s Wife, Part 9
Maddy Takes a Memo (BBW Billionaire Menage Erotica)
Maddy Calls a Meeting (BBW Billionaire Menage Erotica)
Maddy Shifts the Paradigm (BBW Billionaire Menage Erotica)
Solstice Sacrifice (Reluctant Virgin Beast Erotica)
Baiting the Beast (Virgin Werewolf Beast Erotic Romance)
Her Alien Abductor: Galactic Concubine, Part 1 (Alien Erotica)
Her Alien Instructor: Galactic Concubine, Part 2 (Alien BDSM Sex Slave Erotica)
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Copyright Page
Mating the Beast (Virgin Werewolf Beast Erotic Romance) (Project Loup Garou, #2) (Project Loup Garou, #2)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Enjoyed Mating the Beast? Then don't miss the first installment in the Project Loup Garou series, Baiting the Beast, the story of Subject Number Four.
About the Author