I teased and played with his pink balls as best I could while he reamed my throat, teasing them and massaging them as I gagged and gasped. I loved the way they felt in my hands, the way he groaned as I touched him…
“That’s it, darling,” he growled, his desire and lust dripping from his words. “Suck my cock. Suck it hard. I’m training you to be my good little cocksucker.”
The filthy words sent a thrill down my spine. I never would have heard such filthy, such naughty words in my old life and in spite of myself, like a prudish Victorian, I found myself shivering and shuddering in delight at hearing them all over again. I moaned onto his cock, swirling my tongue obediently around the tip as it slipped out of my mouth before grunting onto it as he pounded it back down my throat.
I all but lost sense of time as space as he fucked my throat, destroying me and making me sore and achy. Finally, he groaned triumphantly and thrust his cock down more down my throat, his huge rod embedded deep in my mouth while his wiry pubic hair tickled my nose.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck, that’s good!” Dario groaned as his cum poured out of his cock, stream after long stream of thick, delicious, salty cum. This was my new creed, I decided: making love to Dario, glorying in his body, feeling his pleasure wash over me and savoring his body’s reactions.
He pulled his cock out of my mouth with a pop and before he could say anything, I tackled him, knocking him down onto the bed.
I stripped off my worn jeans as fast as I could, kissing him and slobbering his own cum all over his lips, letting him grip at my cum-dribbled tits as I stripped. Now, I pressed my crotch against his face. Two could play at this game.
“Eat it,” I ordered. And, oh god, he obeyed. My pussy was sopping wet, as you might have imagined, and I felt his hot tongue wash over it, sliding over my slit. But then, he did a completely terrible thing: he stopped. Instead, he began to slurp and lick and tease my inner thighs and the creases between my thigh and my cunt.
“Oh, god…” I murmured in delight, whimpering and shuddering. The skin was so sensitive, so hot and needy, but at the same time, because he had just shown me what laid in store for my aroused and wet pussy, the anticipation could only build. I had always thought that anticipation, no matter how incredible the sensation, the actual sensation—the anticipation would always be better, more powerful, more arousing, and it was proportional to the actual sensation.
So, to know what his tongue could do to my pussy… That made the anticipation of it later on all the more powerful. I could barely stand it and I felt tears coming to my eyes as my thighs and ass shuddering, trying as hard as I could to grind my wet, sopping cunt into his face, trying to force him to lick me, even though that was the last thing I wanted in the end, because the anticipation would then disappear…
Before I knew it, I was cumming. This orgasm was not as powerful as other ones Dario had given me but I knew more were in store. It washed over me and lit my cells on fire and only made my wet little pussy all the more swollen and sloppy.
“Oh, fuck me…” I moaned, gripping my tits, feeling the sore areas where Dario had groped and brutalized them. Finally, his tongue lit upon my slit again, washing up and down, up and down, sliding over my twat like a windshield wiper, slurping up my sour juices eagerly and greedily, before his lips fastened themselves around my clit and then… Oh god…
“Fuck…” I all but screamed, throwing my head back and thrashing as he alternated between suckling on my little clitty and lashing it with his tongue with steady up and down strokes and even—and it was this that finally, finally managed to push me over that steep edge of pleasure—biting it, sinking the sharp edge of his canines into my swollen little node of pleasure.
“Fuck!” I screamed, screamed for real now, crashing into orgasm as I rolled off him, my legs unable to maintain my balance as I came. I shook and convulsed, moaning and gripping the bed, gripping Dario, gripping anything I could get my desperate fingers on as I traversed the dangerous and stormy road of climax.
In the meanwhile, Dario pounced on me. My pussy was gaping and wet, so ready for him to slam his hard length into me… And it was not disappointed. I gasped as he forced himself inside of me, up to the hilt with one powerful stroke.
“Dario! Dario!” I groaned, thrusting my hips forward and driving my clit harder and harder into his torso, groaning and moaning, squealing with delight as Dario held me tight, his cock pistoning in and out of my hungry pussy.
“Harder! Harder! Faster!” I moaned pathetically, all but drooling and crying as he fucked my sensitive, still almost-orgasming hole. I felt his lips wash over mine, and we kissed hard, my hips rocking into his as our bodies united, as he took me hard, reaming my pussy.
“Fuck… Fuck… I’m getting close…” Dario moaned, gripping me hard by the hair and then by my ass, all as I squealed.
“Cum with me,” I whimpered. “I love you. Cum with me.”
Dario looked me in the eye, grunting and growling amidst our passion, a melding of black and white in our love-making.
“I love you too.”
We shared one last hot, soul-searing kiss as I felt my body start to cum. I screamed into the kiss, shuddering and thrashing beneath Dario as my third orgasm in less than an hour washed over me, lighting every single cell of my body on fire. I couldn’t stand it. I dug my finger nails into fingers shoulders, into his ass, gripping his shapely cheeks, pulling him deeper into me as my pussy spasmed around his thrusting, pistoning rod. God, but it was good. I wanted more and more and I wanted to feel him cumming…
“Oh, fuck…” he moaned, his cock spasming inside of me. I felt it, finally: he cock pumping, the streams of cum spilling out of the tip of his throbbing, swollen tool and filling me up. I moaned, holding him close and spreading my legs, wrapping them tight around his waist as his seed filled me, pouring deep into my womb. Again, as before, I fantasized about what might happen from this union… Would it result in a baby? It was too terrifying to imagine, and yet I couldn’t help but think about it, a deep pit growing in my stomach which was equal parts excitement, happiness, and trepidation…
Finally, Dario finished up. With a loud, satisfied sigh and pop, he slid his thickness out of me. I felt his seed dribbling out of my hole, dribbling down my trembling thighs. God, but it was good.
“That was…” I began, in between desperate pants and gasps for air.
“Amazing,” Dario finished for me.
“Do you think anyone heard us?” I asked, still somehow a little embarrassed, a little self-conscious about myself, about my sexuality. Next to Dario, next to this virile biker, it must have seemed all the more modest and… cute, maybe?
“Who cares?” Dario said with a shrug. “Damned if I do.”
“You don’t really care much what anything thinks of you, do you?” I said, a hint of teasing in my voice. I grinned as he glanced back at me, his chest heaving along with my own heaving breasts.
“Sure I do. There’s one person whose opinion I value.”
“Who’s that?” I asked, fully expecting someone in his gang or maybe a childhood mentor. I didn’t give the question that much of a thought.
“You, silly.”
I blushed and pulled him close for one last kiss.
Becoming His Queen
Table of Contents
The Wolf Approaches
The Beast
Battle
Before the Wolf
All His
Marriage
Ceremony
The Banquet
After the Dinner
Wedding Night
The Coup
The Wolf Approaches
"The Wolf approaches, my Lord."
The assembled band looked out into the night. I peeked my head out of the ornate carriage my father had order for us: his three daughters, myself and my two sisters. My father is Earl Kizulu, King of the Mobutu, a small kingdom in the north of the land you lowlanders call Epheria. That would make me a princess. And my sist
ers, as well.
"Kesha, don't look," hissed Dantelle, my youngest sister. She's only fourteen. Then there's Lafree, who's sixteen, and myself. I turned eighteen in the spring.
"I'll look if I want to," I hissed back. My father's men shifted uncomfortably around us. There were at least twenty of them, clad all in thick iron armor, their long, two-handed swords strapped to their backs. They were hard, handsome men, their faces covered in beards and soot from the constant battles that had engulfed our kingdom for the past two years. We had known no peace, no quarter, since the MacPearse clan, cousins of ours, in fact, challenged my father's claim to the throne.
"Father will be angry," Lafree mumbled.
"Rot to what father says," I shot back. "One of us is to marry this Wolf fellow, so we deserve a look at him, at least."
"I heard he transforms into a wolf on his wedding night," Dantelle whispered. "And tears apart his brides."
"That's impossible," Lafree whimpered. "Father wouldn't marry us to someone like that."
"He would if it meant protecting the kingdom," I growled, straining my eyes into the darkness and listening with my ears perked up, trying to pick up the sound of approaching hooves.
But I was foolish to have expected hooves, wasn't I? For this was a wolf who approached.
"Where the bloody hell is he?" my father demanded from atop his horse. He cut a handsome but tired figure in his armor, battered from the unending wars, perpetually splattered with the blood of his enemies and, occasionally, from himself. I could see his exasperated old face, framed by a well-kempt white beard, glistening with nervous sweat in the torchlight.
"Our scouts reported the horses growing anxious, as if there were a wolf in the area," one of the men explained. My father scowled.
"We're in a forest, damn it all. At night. There are wolves, in forests, at night. Of course the horses are frightened! This bastard had better not be late."
"My Lord," began Gadfuin, the Dominican brother who served as my father's confessor and his closest advisor. "The Wolf never goes back on his word. If he said he would meet us on the hillside at midnight, he'll meet us on the hillside at midnight."
"What time is it now?" my father demanded.
"Just past midnight, my Lord."
"And where is he?"
Suddenly, as if all at once, we became aware of the rapid padding of feet, nearing us. There was a great and unexpected cawing of crows as hundreds of birds, once sleeping, rose from the trees around us, taking flight into the darkened sky, their inky black wings lit by the moon. The pounding of feet, strangely soft, grew louder and louder. There was a cracking in the forest, as if a great beast were tearing trees apart, limb from limb. Several of my father's men drew their swords and stood at the ready. They swung their torches, and in the light, I could see their frightened faces, searching the pitch blackness for the approaching friend or foe.
Then he appeared. Never, as long as I live, will I forget the moment I first laid eyes on Victor de Sanchez... The man known as the Wolf.
The Beast
For he was not a man when I first saw him. A giant creature burst out of the woods, a fierce tangle of black fur and snarling fangs, leaving trails of spit and leaves in its wake. He was almost as big as my father's war horse and he landed, twisting and writhing, before us all: a wolf, a literal wolf, panting and baring its fangs in the torch light. His eyes glowed a bright crimson, as if they were pure blood. The wolf threw back its head and let out a terrifying howl. I shuddered as the howl echoed through the woods and my father's men inched away from the beast.
Then, it began to change. The hair receded into skin and the creature shrunk, leaning back on its haunches as it did and standing up like a man. For a moment, it was giant wolfman, standing on two feet like any other man on God's green earth but half-covered in hair still, its fangs still bared, saliva still dripping from its growling maul.
Then, slowly, its face shrunk, the hound nose receding into the werewolf's skull, the fangs shrinking until they fit in the normal, human mouth, though I could see they still remained, from the cruel smile the Wolf allowed himself as he took in the shocked stares.
"What matter of sorcery is this?" one of my father's men demanded. My father shot the man in question a glare.
"This is the noble Wolf Lord, Victor de Sanchez."
"'The Wolf,' simply, is fine, my Lord," the creature before us said. He was now clad in armor much the same as any of my father's men, though his seemed far stronger, far more menacing with its thick spikes and prominent breastplate.
He was not unattractive now that he was a man. In fact, with his long, thick black hair (the same color, I noted, as his fur when he approached us as a wolf) and his handsome, pale, ruddy skin he was quite fetching. And though he was well-armored, I could only imagine the muscular, powerful body that waited beneath those steel plates...
"As you wish, sir," my father said with a shrug. "You have considered our proposal?"
"I have," the Wolf said with a nod. "The price will be quite fair, I expect, considering the work that is to be done. Fairly routine, I imagine."
"The MacPearse men are not to be trifled with," my father said. I could see him flushing. "They've routed our armies over and over again."
"And I'll rout theirs. That's what you'll be paying me for, isn't it?" the Wolf said with a growl. "Besides, if this is your Honor Guard--" At this, he gestured to the assembled men. "--I can understand why you've been so unsuccessful in your battles."
This elicited cries of indignation from the men. One of them advanced on the Wolf and with the speed of a charging, wild dog, he had his hand around the man's throat. He lifted the young soldier high into the air, squeezing until the poor boy's eyes bulged.
"Let him down!" my father roared, finally.
"As you wish," the Wolf grunted and threw the soldier as effortlessly as a lesser man might toss out a bag of trash. The guard went flying, crashing to the ground some thirty feet away. It took two of his comrades to help him stagger to his feet.
"As we were saying," the Wolf continued. "I expect the price shall be fair. The monetary price, at least."
"The monetary price?"
"The gold, my dear King. But I have yet to see my bride to be."
I swallowed nervously.
"He means us!" Danyelle whispered. I rolled my eyes.
"Of course he does!" I murmured. This was our cue. I opened the door of the carriage and stepped out into the clearing. My sisters followed tentatively.
Each one of us has long, curly dark hair and we look quite similar: dark skin the color of chocolate, with crystalline hazel eyes. Each one of us, my father is fond of saying, is a picture of our mother.
We assembled in a line before the Wolf. He towered over us, a mountain of steel, hair, and muscled-flesh. He smelled vaguely of sweat, raw meat, and blood. I was terrified but I couldn't let my sisters see any fear in my eyes. I stood tall while they cowered, jutting my well-formed young breasts, pushed up by my bodice, forward and under his gaze. He all but salivated when he saw me. He even licked his lips as he stepped forward.
"Well, look at this little flower," he growled, taking my hand in his. He planted a rough kiss on the back of my hand and I blushed.
"My Lord," I said with a polite curtsey.
"That is my oldest, Kesha," my father said slowly, uncertainly.
"The others would be younger... Tighter... More likely to squeal..." the Wolf mumbled, looking us over. "But I suspect I can make you squeal and cry as much as your sisters, can't I?"
I pursed my lips tight, but I refused to lose my composure.
"I'm certain my Lord would be quite skilled at satisfying my every need," I said, suddenly very proud of my tact. The Wolf threw his head back and laughed. It looked quite similar to how he howled when on all fours.
"A good answer! Tell me, child, that beautiful red hair of yours... Will I find it elsewhere on your body? Is that a rose you've got between your legs or just a brown little
crabapple?"
"My Lord, you can't let your daughter be humiliated like this!" roared one of my father's men. "Let us kill this disgusting sorcerer."
"Kill me?" the Wolf cackled. "Can you kill the wind? Can you kill the sea? I'm more than you've ever seen, boy. I've killed more men than you've ever known, and I've eaten their wives and children as well. There are entire armies that lie, forever in the ground, because of me. Mothers invoke my name to scare misbehaving children."
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