by Olivia Myers
Celia gave little shuddering cries as the clothing was torn away from her, as though it were a past life she was shedding. She was naked now, purified to enter the fire of his being. She ceased kissing his lips and maneuvered down his chest, past the massive pectorals, strong as armor plating, until she reached his cock, nearly splitting apart his briefs, it was so hard. As hatefully as he’d ripped away her clothing, she ripped away this last barrier, and at last cupped him whole in her hands, like a powerful animal.
She touched him with her mouth. She wanted to show what control she had over him and so she teased him, lubricating his shaft with the softness of her tongue, taking only his delicate tip in her mouth and then pulling it back out again. It must have been torture for him. That was what she wanted. To show that she could torture him.
But at last the torture grew too much even for her. She was done teasing. She would have him now. Celia mounted his body and moved his formidable hands onto her breasts. Instantly they began squeezing her. He seemed to know exactly what she wanted him to do. He knew exactly what she needed of him. Her clit was as soft and as moist as a sponge, but she was careful when she positioned herself. She wanted to show him that she could wait, that she was still in power, that she was capable of prolonging not just his torture but her own.
And then finally, she let his huge girth slide inside her, filling her with the undisguised splendor of another living being. Celia gasped with the breath of two. The firm trunk inside of her was like the trunk of her own soul, taking root in the soul of the man beneath her. She rose, elevating herself, and she felt the weight of two rise with her, towering over earthly pain. And when she sank back down again, with a gasp and a little shudder, she felt the reconnection of her soul with his. The connection was savage and it was beautiful. Again and again she rose up and came down, pumping Thomas inside of her with each rise of her thighs, breaking him more and more with every blow, consuming him.
“Come for me, Thomas,” she said. She felt her soul rising into the bliss beyond herself. She knew she had to have Thomas ejaculate to catch the fleeting bliss and cement it to her being. She needed his essence to become complete. “Come for me.”
Thomas groaned, and Celia could feel his body, willing his release, willing the connection. It was slipping out of his power. She had taken it from him.
“Celia,” his deep voice quaked. And then he shuddered, as though an earthquake were passing through his body. Celia shuddered as it passed through her, ricocheting through her muscles, and ending with an explosion deep within her—a white-hot burst of his being. She threw her head back and howled.
***
Afterwards. In the dead of night. In the cold and clear sky that poured in through the windows, Thomas pulled on his trousers and told Celia that they would never see each other again.
“Old sins have followed us, infected us,” he said. “We will be driven to inhuman and impure lives. We will suffer hell and madness if we pursue each other. We will suffer as Diane has already suffered. And I do not think there will be sanctuary for us as I have managed for her.”
“Where is she?” Celia asked as he struggled into his clothes.
“Safe,” Thomas said. His words were razors again. Celia had stripped the armor of his soul, but it was still there in his being, in his person. She resented him for it, yet she knew that he needed his armor to survive.
“You will see her in the town,” he said. “Talk to her. Hold her. Maybe you will never learn to recognize her, but she has already recognized you. She gave you her picture, didn’t she?”
Celia nodded.
“You won’t rescue her past identity, but you can remind her of it.”
“And you,” she said. Her voice was surprisingly cold, as his was cold. “Where are you going?”
“I would never tell you.”
“What if you fall into trouble?”
“I have already fallen into it. Now I shall climb out.”
“I could help you, Thomas,” she said, and pressed her tender hand against his chest.
“No,” he hissed and pushed away her hand.
Celia felt shock, but it was replaced quickly by neutrality. There was no change in Thomas. He had become amorphous again. A ghoul.
“I will be alone,” he said. “I have always been alone. I prefer it. But you, for you I leave the Bly family inheritance. It’s yours if you want it.”
Thomas took a sizeable house key out of his pocket let it drop limply on the floor. His disgust was obvious. “I’ve left instructions for it to be transferred to Diane, and from Diane to the sister that she recognizes. If you want it. You can easily refuse and let it pass away into rubble.”
“I want a family, Thomas,” Celia pleaded. “I don’t want your damn inheritance. I don’t want this rotting place.”
“Then it is yours to refuse,” Thomas swept across the room and gathered his overcoat. He paused before the door. For a moment Celia was sure he was going to say something, admit some regret.
But there were no final words. No last goodbyes. Only the sound of retreating footsteps and, at last, the crunch of snow beneath the million million eyes of the cruel, cold night. Every eye Celia knew was watching her, waiting, anticipating her fatal next step.
And Celia stared back. She was in control. She could conquer all of these million million staring satellites, as she’d conquered the man who walked beneath them now in the dark hinterlands, off and away to an unknown and perilous future.
THE END
Forbidden Shifts
The breeze rustling through the trees behind me. The bite of the cold air on my fur. The spots of rain that dripped on my ears and rolled down my nose. God, it felt good to be out again as a wolf.
I couldn’t really form thoughts when I was shifted, except to consider what I was feeling and seeing and hearing. It was so satisfying to have everything stripped down to its most basic form. It was liberating not to have to worry about bills or worry about how I was going to pay the rent this month. It was even better to not have to worry about her.
Lifting swiftly and immediately back into my human form, I scolded myself. I’d promised myself that I wasn’t going to let my mind linger on Lindsay any more. It was stupid to think I had anything even resembling a chance with her.
I was only a few feet from where I’d parked my car, and I walked over to it to get the clothes I’d stashed in the trunk. Driving a car naked, as I’d discovered, wasn’t exactly the best way to go about the whole not-getting-noticed thing. Opening the trunk, I pulled out some jeans and a t-shirt, and pulled them on. I was still speckled with sweat and rain, and my skin smelled like grass in the cool midnight air. But even as I tried to focus on pulling myself back into being a person, her face was there in my mind.
Damn these post-shift hormones.
Sure, I could blame it on the hormones. It wasn’t like there was anything more to it than that…at least, I could keep telling myself that.
I’d been the beta in our pack for more than a year before I met Lindsay. Her father was the alpha, and he had always done a careful job of keeping her away from us, a bunch of horny, hot-blooded werewolves. But she turned up at the bar one evening, curious to meet the rest of her father’s pack, and Mark, her father, wasn’t around to keep an eye on us. I was smitten. Smitten in a big way. She was tall, as tall as me, with generously long legs and small, perky breasts, the kind that would have fit perfectly into the palm of my hand. And she spent the whole evening flirting with me as if her life depended on it. We bought beers, we laughed over our mutual love of stupid sitcoms and our teenage taste in music, and Lindsay invited me back to her place when the night was over. But I’d said no. I had to. Mark would have finished me if he found out I was putting the moves on his beloved daughter. What kind of beta would I be if I was screwing the boss’s kid? No matter how cute or charming or flirty Lindsay got, I had to make sure that Mark and the rest of the pack knew my loyalties lay with them, and not her. Plus, banging your
friend’s daughter is probably bad form, even in the non-shifter world.
I tried to shove the thought of her to the back of my head as I climbed into the car and drove off, heading back toward my apartment in the canter of town.
I put on some loud music and tried to blast any thought of Lindsay from my mind. The roads were quiet. Trying not to think about Lindsay, I spent the whole journey thinking about the couple of beers I had in my fridge that I would throw back as a reward for not driving straight to Lindsay’s place and fucking her brains out, no matter how tempting the thought was. She’d slipped me her card and told me to come down whenever I wanted, but I’d tried to forget the address etched on the crisp white square. Despite my attempts to forget, it was still carved into my memory. I could get there in minutes if I changed my mind. The testosterone from my run was still pulsing through my body, and I knew that this time, this time it might be different.
I pulled up to a red light and pressed my head against the steering wheel. Was I really going to do this? Was I really going to go there after all this time spent fighting the urge? It was reckless, sure, and she might turn me down, but I knew I had to try. After all this time denying myself, I still wanted her. And I wanted her now. There was no ignoring the chemistry between us, and maybe this one, quick encounter would put her to the back of my mind for good. I sure as hell hoped so.
Turning the car around, I repeated her address in my head to make sure that I knew where I was going. 14 Appleton Road. I knew I was going to the right place. My heart practically in my mouth, I pressed my foot to the pedal and hurried through the quiet city night.
I was in front of her house in a matter of minutes, my breath heavy, my mind racing. Was I really about to do this? Stepping out of the car, I mussed up my hair and adjusted my shirt, trying not to let my brain process what was going on. If I didn’t realize what I was doing, I couldn’t be doing anything wrong, could I? Oh God, but what if she turned me down? Or she’d gotten a boyfriend since we last hung out? I tried to ignore my rushing brain as I pressed the buzzer for her door. There was only one way to find all of that out.
“Hello?” Her crackly voice through the intercom took me by surprise.
“Hello, Lindsay, it’s…it’s Kellan.”
There was a pause at her end, then I heard the door click open. “Come on up.”
Walking through the door and up the stairs, I found myself outside her apartment, my heart pounding in my ears. She let me in. Did that mean she’d spent as much time thinking about our connection as I had?
The door opened and there she was, standing in front of me in a thigh-length silk dressing gown, the kind that looked like it had been thrown on just as she’d gotten out of bed.
“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” I apologized, not wanting to enter her house until she invited me.
“No, no, it’s fine. I was just up reading for an essay I have due next week,” she replied, yawning, gesturing for me to go past her. Her hair was done up in a messy ponytail, tendrils escaping around her face and neck. I wanted to brush them out of the way, but I wasn’t sure how she’d react. No need to push my luck more than I’d already pushed it.
“So, what can I do for you?” asked Lindsay, plonking herself down on her sofa and nodding for me to take a seat in the armchair opposite. The apartment was small and chic, in a boho kind of way. It looked like the kind of place an early-twenties history major might live. I was temporarily taken aback by her question—What was I doing here? Could I just come out and say I’m here to fuck? No, I would have to be a bit more subtle than that.
“I…I was coming home from a shift and I thought maybe we could hang out.” It sounded so needy, so desperate, but it was the truth. The G-rated truth. There was that chemistry between us again, as the air seemed to turn solid with tension.
“I’m actually really glad you came over.”
Her words took me by surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah. I’ve been thinking about you a lot since we met that night, and I…well, I know that my dad would go crazy if he thought you and I were messing around. But I really liked you.” Her tone was steady, but I could see her hands shaking. It felt like some kind of validation that she wanted this as much as I did. And God, she looked so good, the kind of sexy that only comes with being genuinely confident in the way you look, in the way you are. She was intoxicating, and I wanted her. She continued talking, her blue eyes meeting mine.
“…And I wanted something to happen. But I knew the only way we could manage that is if we did a bit of…sneaking around. Just until we figured out what we both wanted.” Her eyes were searching mine, clearly testing to see if that’s how I felt, too. I did.
“That sounds…pretty much what I was looking for, too.” I agreed, trying to keep my voice steady. I didn’t know if anything was going to happen tonight, but just the confirmation that the attraction wasn’t all in my head, that Lindsay wanted it too, was enough to take home with a smile on my face.
There was a beat between us, as both of us tried to figure out who was going to make the first move.
“Plus,” I added, trying to sound casual, “I’ve wanted to fuck you since I first laid eyes on you.”
And that was all it took. Grinning, Lindsay stood up and walked over to me. Her legs were so long and so lush, and all I wanted was to finally feel them in my hands.
She placed herself slowly in my lap, curling up so her face was inches from my own. “Me too,” she replied. And then my mouth was finally on hers.
It was the kind of kiss that you remember with a fuzz in your stomach for months after the fact. Her lips were soft and gentle, and I ran my hands up her back as I slowly parted her mouth with mine, caressing her tongue with my own. Brushing the hair back from her face, I pulled her close, desperate to finally feel all of her. It might have been my hyper-alert post-shift senses, but she smelled extra-good, too, like warm summer air. Leaning toward her neck, I kissed her just under the ear and inhaled deeply. Yes, that was exactly what she smelled like. As I moved up to gently kiss her ear, I heard her moan quietly, and the sound was a gorgeous, satisfying thing; I guessed she’d been thinking about this encounter for as long as I had. Our bodies were in perfect synchronicity as we made out, my hands brushing up her legs and across her thighs as she tugged at the edge of my shirt.
I slowly edged my hand up her leg, ears pricked to listen for any kind of reaction. Her breathing got more ragged as I edged closer to her pussy, and I could tell that the forbidden nature of the situation was getting to her too. I caressed just the edge of her smooth pussy lips, and her whole body jerked as if I had run an electric current through her. I pulled away to check in with her, and she nodded her approval. Gently finding my way to her slit, I pushed a finger inside, causing us both to let out a small, serious gasp.
She was already soaking wet, and as tight as I had dreamed when I’d thought about this moment over the last few weeks. Slowly moving my fingers in and out of her, I felt my erection grow beneath my jeans; I had spent so long imagining this moment, and here it was, better than I had fantasized, this gorgeous woman curled in my lap, mewling softly as I fingered her perfect pussy. It was all I could do not to pull down my jeans and settle her onto my cock immediately. But I wanted to savor this. I wanted to prove that what we were doing was worth it, worth the risk, worth her father’s wrath. As I felt her pussy begin to clench around my fingers, I knew that it would be.
Suddenly, she let out a cry, her whole body tensing in my arms as my fingers bought her to climax. I knew that weeks thinking about this, wondering if it could ever happen, had left us both wound up. It was taking all my self-control not to just bend her over the chair and fuck her senseless. But there would be plenty of time for that in the future; right now, I just wanted to savor every moment with her, in case we never got to do this again.
Removing my fingers from her, we continued to kiss as I slid my hand up, cupping her pussy and using my thumb to gently stimulate her clit. All I
wanted was to bring her pleasure, to make her come again and again and again. I wanted to be the best fuck she’d ever had, in short. And there was one thing I wanted to do before we got down to business.
Sliding her on to the armchair, I deftly maneuvered myself so that I was in front of her, kneeling between her legs. Her eyes clouded with confusion for a moment, until I pushed up the hem of her dressing gown and peppered kisses from her knees up her thighs and toward her pussy. I heard her gasp, felt her body tense as my mouth came mere inches from her sex, my breath hot on her flesh. Then I pressed my mouth into her.
She was so sweet, as wet as I’d felt any woman. Using my tongue, I parted her lips and found her clit, lapping at it in slow, long licks that made her squirm underneath me. She gripped my hair as I moved my mouth onto her, letting out soft moans and groans as my tongue hungrily went to work on her pussy. It was like I had always imagined, being given a chance to pleasure this beautiful woman. It was as romantic as it was erotic, as sexy as it was sensual. I discreetly pulled off my jeans and started unbuttoning my shirt, suddenly determined to feel her flesh against mine. Her body bucked underneath me again, and I knew she wasn’t far from orgasm, but I wanted her to come with me inside her, and not before. I wanted to feel her around me.
Yanking a condom from the pocket of my discarded jeans, I climbed back on top of her, switching our places so she was perched on my lap again. I sheathed myself in the condom as she leaned in to kiss me, still trembling from her previous orgasm. Then she pulled up the hem of her gown, straddled me, and pushed herself down.
We both let out simultaneous groans as I entered her. Wrapping my arms around her back, I pushed myself slowly into her, savoring the feeling, the feeling I’d been craving since she’d first walked into that bar. Looking up, I stared into her eyes; they were lost in pleasure, staring at some orgasmic point in space I couldn’t even fathom.
She began to grind into me, her hand sliding down between her legs to give herself a little help. The sight was exquisite—this beautiful woman, riding me on her armchair while she played with herself. I leaned in and pulled at the hem of her dressing gown, revealing one of her small, perky breasts. Easing her nipple into my mouth, I gently nibbled, causing another one of the adorable little moans that I hoped I’d be hearing a lot more of over the next few weeks.