Full Moon Night

by Lia Connor

  Lifting her hands to cup her breasts a second time, she held them as if in offering. “Come and get me,” she invited. “Chantal will show you a real good time. I can be nice if you’re nice. Which you’d better be. We’re bound by almost all the ties, now.”

  Slowly, cautiously, Saint Sin got to his feet. Sand clung to his shins and knees, a fine coating of dun-colored crystals against his tanned skin. He nodded to Juarez, who stood beside him, a heavier coat of sand on his legs.

  Chantal allowed herself a smile. “So far, so good. Now how do we start this dance?”

  “If you don’t know, then you aren’t Alpha,” Saint Sin challenged.

  “You want me to go with my instincts? Fine.” Chantal put her hands on her hips for a moment, shaking her head at the folly of men, and then closed the gap between them in quick steps, pressing her mouth to Saint Sin’s own. She twined her arms around his waist, eager hands pressing against the muscles in his back, and probed at his lips with her tongue.

  Saint Sin growled, and began to kiss her in return. And damn, but the man could kiss. As if a cord holding him back had broken, he plunged in and plundered her mouth like a Viking on a spree, bending her backwards with the force of his assault -- but holding her with one arm, so she didn’t fall.

  See? He’s learning already. Good boy. Good wolf.

  Breaking off from her mouth, Saint Sin began to kiss a blazing hot trail down the side of Chantal’s face and her throat, pausing to nuzzle in just above where the artery beat with a steady thump-thump-thump and the skin was blood hot. Chantal raised her hand to the back of Saint Sin’s head as he burrowed in, lapping at her skin like he would bite again. He did nip, not hard enough to break the skin. She slapped him lightly, and felt his cock, pressed against her leg, jump in response. So, he liked his women a little rough, huh?

  She could do rough.

  But later. Just then, she was busy hanging on for dear life as Saint Sin made his way even further down to her breasts, cupping one and rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger while he suckled on her other nub, drawing the areola into his mouth and lavishing the dark brown skin with his tongue.

  He let go with a wet sound and kissed his way further down, making a straight line from just above Chantal’s heart to her navel and then dipping down lower. Saint Sin’s lips stopped just above her pubic hair. He hesitated, not to draw out the moment, but to see what she would do.

  Chantal decided he’d earned his reward. “Go on,” she ordered. “Lick me. With your wolf tongue. I want to know what it feels like.”

  Saint Sin looked surprised, but not for long. She saw him light up like a dark torch with the challenge she’d thrown his way. Tossing his head, he made the same shuddering motion that Juarez had earlier and changed only a little way, his mouth elongating into a muzzle and his thick hair blending back into a pelt on his neck and shoulder. When he glanced back up at her, his eyes were wolf eyes, a rich amber-gold.

  “That’s right,” Chantal said, running her hand over his coat, finding it to be slick and glossy. “Go on, now. I’m not gonna wait all day.”

  “Juarrr-ezzz,” the lupine mouth growled. “Hizzz turn too.”

  Chantal half-turned to see the big Latino standing behind her. He raised his hands, as if to say he wouldn’t do anything until she said the word. “Oh, him?” Chantal asked casually. “He can play. See how nice I am?”

  She heard a huge sigh, and then felt warm hands clasp her shoulders on either side. Heated kisses rained down on the nape of her neck, Juarez brushing her hair aside to reach the skin beneath. His hands slipped around to knead the heavy weight of her breasts, pinching the nipples until they were so hard and sensitive she threw back her head for another howl at the moon.

  Then, as Saint Sin finally reached her pussy, she let out another yipping cry. That long, agile tongue of his swiped her from the top of her slit to her deep honey core, plunging in to fuck her as well as his fingers had earlier. The feel of him working inside her channel had Chantal writhing, caught between the heavy press of Juarez’s body and the hard grip Saint Sin had on her thighs.

  She let herself go then, hanging slack between them. Saint Sin drank her down like a wolf dying of thirst, his skin glowing with a fine sheen of sweat. She could feel the same on Juarez’s chest as he pressed it against her back, and knew that she too would be glowing. The fire danced, the ocean roared, and the wolves milled around them in circles, sanctifying their union.

  Chantal felt an orgasm building up from dead center, sizzling streaks racing out to all her limbs, leaving them tingling. “Saint -- Sin,” she choked. “I still -- I still win --”

  He snarled at her, pressed forward, and let her feel sharp teeth against her pussy as he fucked her with his tongue.

  The teeth were what pushed her over. Baying at the moon, Chantal felt herself arched, stretched tight, pushed to the very limit and exploding, shattering into a thousand tiny diamond pieces, just like the stars in the sky above the beach.

  When she opened her eyes, it was to Saint Sin’s face, melted back to a purely human shape. He cupped her cheek with a show of what she suspected was rare tenderness and came in for a light kiss. When he backed away, he whispered, “If you thought that was something, wait until you feel what comes next.”

  Between Saint Sin and Juarez, Chantal felt herself being held upright. She grabbed at Saint Sin for balance, and laughed as he ground his hard erection against her weeping pussy. They swayed together doing a dance that would have half the normal beach population hiding their eyes, while behind Chantal Juarez copied their movements, sliding his fat cock up and down the crease of her ass.

  The wolves circled in, among, and around them, a sea of furry bodies, each one sniffing the air and then yelping in what sounded like approval. My family now, Chantal thought. Love you, Daddy. But a girl’s got to move on. She chuckled at one red wolf who hopped up on the seat of a dirt bike much bigger than him, placing his paws on the handlebars.

  Saint Sin captured her chin and forced her to look at him. “Don’t pay attention to them,” he said, voice ragged. “Look at me. Feel me. And Juarez. There’s magic in the air.”

  “Same kind of magic that makes us what we are,” Juarez chimed, his accent thick and heavy now. “Magic that turned your power on.”

  “Mmm.” Chantal let her head droop back, languid as a rose hanging on its stem. “If this is the power that makes us wolves, I like it.”

  “And it likes you. And so do I.” Saint Sin kissed her once more, hard and demanding. She fought back with her mouth, giving as good as she got, sensing that he approved.

  As their lips met and parried, Chantal felt Saint Sin’s hand traveling down her side, tracing her curves, then coming to where their bodies were almost, but not quite, joined. He pushed against her, his cock sliding on her folds, slick as oil and water. “You a virgin?” he asked roughly into her ear.

  She shook her head.

  Juarez pressed against Chantal, nudging his dick against her ass. “You a virgin to this, though?”

  When she shook her head a second time, the men both gave a low thrummm deep in their throats. “What did you do?” Saint Sin asked, tracing the hollow of Chantal’s throat with his lips. “Did you buy a naughty little toy and use it on yourself? Mmm, bet that thing almost burned up when the heat came on you.”

  “Where did that toy go?” Juarez asked, rocking her hips. “Absolutely… everywhere? Perfecto.”

  “I told you,” Saint Sin said over Chantal’s shoulder. “She’s the one for us. She just had to be brought over onto our side.”

  Chantal’s eyes flew open. “You -- you played me!” she sputtered, making as if to thrust them away. “Was this all some kind of trick? What have you done?”

  Saint Sin placed a finger over her lips. “We’ve just made you what nature wanted you to be all along,” he whispered. “A queen. Now you can be our royalty.”

  She bit at his finger. “You need to do better than pretty words.
”

  “You don’t like it when we talk nice?” Juarez came in on the other side of her throat, the slight rasp of stubble prickling against her skin. “How about we talk nasty, then?”

  “Or act up, like people think we do?”

  “Maybe we should get wild. Lobos loco.”

  “I think,” Chantal said, planting a hand on either man’s chest, “that you should just be yourselves. And that you should fuck me before we die of old age.”

  “Mmm.” Saint Sin poised himself at her entrance, pushing just far enough for her to feel the thick head demanding to be let in. “You’re not mad at us, then?”

  “I’ll kick your asses -- after you fuck me.”

  “Now that’s the kind of Alpha I want.” Saint Sin bit down as Juarez did, neither breaking the skin, but the pressure enough to send Chantal spiraling off into a second orgasm.

  When she wound her way down, gasping between the two men, it was to feel Juarez spreading something slick between the cheeks of her ass. It had the smell of something almost Italian, something she’d smelled and tasted before… “Olive oil?” she had to ask.

  “We carry some around for special occasions.” Saint Sin bit the tip of Chantal’s ear. “Except now, we’ll only ever use it on you.”

  Chantal closed her eyes and hummed with pleasure.

  “Hey. Hey, open your eyes.” She did, hazily, to see Saint Sin looking intently at her. “You do realize what all this means, right? This isn’t just some beachfront game we’re playing. This is for real all around. You do this you’re agreeing to belong to Juarez and me, just as we’ll belong to you. You’re signing on to help lead the Lobos. Are you ready for that?”

  “Ever since you bit me,” Chantal breathed. “Now get on with it.”

  “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this. From the second I saw you coming up on that battered old bike…” Saint Sin choked his words off as he thrust his cock into her pussy. Chantal’s toy had gotten her used to an intrusion, and taught her how to welcome one, but it hadn’t been half as thick or long as Saint Sin’s cock. They rocked together for a moment, adjusting to one another, Saint Sin pushing in deeper, an inch at a time.

  When he was all the way in, his heavy balls resting against her curling hair, he stopped, shaking, sweat beading on his forehead. “Wait,” he rasped. “Don’t move. Not yet. Juarez now.”

  Juarez was rocking behind her. His fingers gripped her shoulders so hard Chantal thought they might leave grooves. “Am I the first man you’re letting in here?” he wanted to know. “Tell me, yes or no.”

  “Yes,” Chantal breathed. “And I want you there. Just go easy, okay?”

  Juarez half-laughed. “I’m holding on by a thread, pretty lady. But yeah, I’ll go easy. Like this.” Chantal felt the head of a cock pressed against her opening. Like she’d learned to do with her toys, she bore down to make his entry easier, laughing and baying when he slipped past the tight ring of muscle and cried out in surprise.

  Hanging on tight to Saint Sin, Chantal felt herself being slowly filled from behind with Juarez’s cock. The sensation of being stuffed full of cock from both sides didn’t compare to a dildo and her own two fingers. It seemed as though, when Juarez completed his careful slide in, the men’s cocks were just a membrane away from touching one another.

  “So full,” she moaned. “So good.”

  Saint Sin dragged her in for a kiss, reaching his arm around to grip Juarez’s shoulder. Juarez did the same, boxing her in. “Now,” he said, fighting for control, “we finish this.”

  And with that, the two men began to fuck Chantal like she’d never been fucked before. A virgin except for a few fumbles and her own experimentation, this was all such new territory that she found herself screaming out her pleasure as one filled and the other retreated, sawing her back and forth as if they would twist her in two. She was going to burn up from the inside out, seared to death by the fire in their cocks, but she couldn’t think of a better possible way to go.

  Juarez was the first to lose his grip on control. “Chantal,” he said through gritted teeth, “hang on. Gonna -- can’t wait --”

  “Oh, Christ,” Saint Sin groaned.

  Chantal braced herself. One hard thrust into her ass, and she felt Juarez shoot his load, hot pulses pummeling her from the inside. God, what a money shot he must be, she thought, dazed. He slumped onto her back, his hands coming down to circle her waist, and held her tight as Sin Saint began to pound her hard as he possibly could, shoving her pussy full of cock time and again. She lifted her leg so he could go deeper and harder. Sweat flew off his skin, glistening in the firelight.

  Then, with a cry that started out as a guttural human groan and ended as a wolf’s howl, Saint Sin came inside Chantal, spraying her channel with hot seed. Chantal gasped at the sensation and rippled, shaking as a third orgasm tore through her, leaving her breathless.

  The three of them hung there for a moment, still connected. All around them, the wolves began to howl and bark, their own version of applause. They circled so closely that their fur tickled Chantal’s legs, sending reverberating tremors of climax through all her limbs. She could tell from the men’s sharp intake of breath that they felt the same thing. In their way, the Pack was sharing in the ceremony that bound their new Alpha female to them.

  Groaning, Juarez pulled out of Chantal’s ass, followed by Saint Sin, who withdrew from her pussy. Chantal could still feel the ache deep within and the need for more and still more sex, but the drive had been satisfied for a little while. She didn’t even feel the hunger in her stomach now. The two drives that had pushed her on had died down to a low ebb, their fires banked and warming her from deep within.

  They’d be back. But she’d be ready.

  Held up by four male arms, Chantal savored the sight of her dark skin against their paler complexions and gave a long, contented sigh. “I’m in,” she stated. “I help lead the Pack now.”

  “And God help anyone who gets in your way,” Saint Sin replied, coming in for one more kiss, a gentler embrace, tangling their tongues together. “The wolves accept you. Juarez bows his head to you. And I’m taking you as my equal. Be tough, but be fair. That’s how things are run in the Lobos.”

  Chantal nodded. “And we’ll be moving on, won’t we?”

  “Yeah.” Saint Sin pushed a lock of hair away from her cheek. His smile was lazy and self-assured, the kind she imagined good law-abiding citizens would want to smack off his face. She just wanted to kiss it. “We’re out of here tomorrow. There’s another place I’ve heard of up north, in the woods. A friend of a friend passed the word along. We should be all right to shelter there for a while.”

  “Good. This place has been my home, but I’m on a new road now, and I don’t want to look back.” Goodbye, Daddy. Hope you can forgive me. “We’ll take the Pack up north.”

  “Tomorrow,” Saint Sin said, slowly bringing Chantal down to the ground with him. Juarez followed, mimicking their every move until they lay on the sand, their heads pillowed on each other’s arms. “I can’t wait to show you our world.”

  “Good to know. Me, I can’t wait to see it.” Chantal laughed as a curious wolf tongue swiped at her cheek, and reached up to ruffle a rough pelt. The wolves, just like children, came sniffing in to check things out for themselves. She could see the intelligence and approval in their eyes and opened her arms wide, letting them scent her as they would.

  And amid the snuffling of the wolves, the last sounds heard for a long time were Chantal’s laughter and three human voices raised in a chorus of howls.

  Epilogue

  Chantal felt, more than saw, the sun rise. A hard-core relaxation spread throughout her bones, easing her more than a deep tissue massage but leaving her sore in all the right places, reminding her of how she’d spent her night. A lazy smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she remembered taking Saint Sin on again and again, and sometimes Juarez. Once or twice more, both of them together.

  She opened
her eyes to the rising sun, coming up orange and warming over the ocean. The water was turning from black to blue, the waves crashing into shore with a rhythmic tug and pull. All around her, she could see the signs of a debauched party -- beer bottles, stubbed-out cigarettes, and the remains of a bonfire.

  But more, she saw a huddled mass of men and women, every one of them bare naked and sleeping tangled together like a litter of puppies. Head turned to the side, Chantal watched them. Some dark like her, some light. All of them thin. Too thin. Saint Sin had done the best he could with his Pack, but they needed a woman’s hand.

  And she was just the woman for the job.

  Sitting up, Chantal shook her head to free it of the sand that had gathered on the back of her curls. It flew in every direction, each grain sparkling like a gem. She lifted her arms above her head and stretched, not ashamed of her own nakedness. Why should she be embarrassed? The Pack had seen everything there was to see the night before.

  As they passed her by on their way to relieve their morning bladders or hunt for the remains of meat in the fire pit, the Lobos each gave her a tentative nod and smile. She grinned back at them in return. Soon she’d be learning their names, each and every one, and she’d know everything about them, from the way they rode to the way they played. Hard and fast, soft and slow, kind-natured or mean-tempered. She’d have her hand over all of them, and they’d either love her or learn to respect her.

  Saint Sin had been right -- this was what she was born to do. It’d just taken a bite to bring her over to where she belonged.

  Speaking of Saint Sin, Chantal felt a warmth behind her, and saw a powerfully muscled pale arm wrap around her chocolaty middle. She sighed and arched backward into his embrace, putting her hand on top of his.

  “So what do you think about things now that you’ve had a chance to sleep on them?” he asked, nuzzling into the curve of her ear.

  Chantal slapped backwards at Saint Sin to get him to stop. There was a ripple of amusement in her voice as she spoke. “I feel like I’ve been fucked six ways to Sunday, but I’m not sorry about a bit of it. And I know it’s only going to get better from here on out.”