by Sage Domini
All my ignorant daydreams about being filled by ordinary human copulation crashed into oblivion as he possessed me. I screamed his name. I screamed my name.
He pulled out before finishing. My hot center felt like a giant wet bruise, yet popped with the indescribable sweetness of a deep residual orgasm. It was unlike any clumsy tinkering I had managed with Max the vibrating wonder.
Marcus said nothing as he flipped me over. He did not ask my permission and I knew he never would. He had given me my pleasure. And now he would take his.
I bit into the red canvas of the futon as the pain tore at my very axis. Marcus gripped the flesh of my wide backside, massaging roughly as he battered me with the giant member which ruled him. I could tell from the urgency that he was nearing his climax. Hastily he flipped me back to the front and again entered that plowed triangle. He shuddered to completion with one of my breasts spilling from each hand. I watched his face in his moment of passion and triumph. And I loved him.
Yet I frowned as we sprawled on the abused futon. “Marcus?”
He ran a hand through his damp dark hair. “Yes, sweet Jessa?”
Suddenly I was embarrassed. “Shouldn’t we be using, um, protection?”
He was confused. “Protection from what?”
I rolled my eyes and tried to figure out what to say. Marcus grabbed my wrists and knelt between my legs. “Jessa, I am claiming you as my bride, my mate.” He placed a warm hand on the spill of my belly. “You will breed. There will be no secrets between us, nothing our bodies will not share from this moment until the moon takes me.”
His words left me breathless. He was commanding me to be everything the world had informed me was wrong and antiquated for a modern woman. But I was no modern woman, I realized. I never had been. I was the last werewolf bride. His hand continued to massage my belly. I thought of his seed inside me that moment, searching for something to cling to. It was an unbearably erotic thought. I felt my face go warm with blush.
Marcus’s deep brow furrowed. “What is wrong?”
I looked at him, this paragon of primal perfection who had chosen me, who had fought for the right to bed and keep me. I tried to put my feelings into words. “Marcus, I’ve never been…wanted before…” My voice trailed off.
He kissed me then, long and deep. It was a sweet moment of tenderness. He broke finally and looked at me seriously. “Jessa, do you know why ordinary men do not long to have you?”
I drew my knees up to my chest. “I can guess.”
“No, you can’t. You weren’t meant for them and on some basic level which still retains their animal instincts, they know that.” His finger slid into my moistness. “You were meant for something else.”
It seemed the wrong time to bring it up. “My parents. My mother married an ordinary man. Presumably they…well, I mean here I am.”
Marcus slowly shook his head, smiling. “Jessa, your father was not an ordinary man.” He pushed a soft curl away from my forehead. “No, he wasn’t a werewolf. Sometime I will tell you about it.”
“Why not now?”
Marcus glanced out the dark window. “We need to make preparations.”
“For what?”
He was surprised. “We need to leave, Jessa. The night will not last forever. Brethren from the Dark Claws await us in a dark enclave off the Interstate. They will be getting restless now that the moon begins her descent.”
He had said the words to me: mate, bride, claim. Yet somehow it had not sunk in that he meant to take me away with him. My mind ran furiously. How could I leave everything I had ever worked for and run away in the night with a werewolf? A few hours ago the notion would have been insane.
Yet, what did I have here? A handful of mediocre friendships and another year left at school after which time I could earn my place in the maligned rat race. Marcus was offering me something exotic and permanent. Most of all he was offering me himself. “Where?” I whispered.
“Far from here. Up in the north country, in a place with few human inhabitants.” He grinned vaguely. “We operate a large homestead. Organic farming and ranching. We receive business from across the nation.”
“Werewolf organic farmers?”
Marcus shrugged. “Werewolves need to survive in this modern world too.” He took my hand and pressed his lips to the palm. “It’s a beautiful place, Jessa. You will love it there. The pack will love you.”
Alpha queen. I rolled the words around in my head. Tonight was the first time in my life I ever recalled feeling important. “Don’t you have some wolf girlfriend somewhere who is likely to be jealous? I mean, you obviously knew what you were doing tonight.”
“No. Werewolves do not have girlfriends as you think of them. We may find willing partners from time to time and it is all well and pleasurable, but it is nothing until we find the one we are meant to be with.”
“Will we have a wedding?”
“If you like. Our ceremonies are a far cry from what you are used to, but it will be as you wish. Jessa, I will never refuse you. If you do not refuse me.”
With that he pushed me onto my back. He inserted himself slowly and moved deliberately. I sensed he was still gauging how much I would need to be taught about the roles we would play in our life together. Yes, I would accept him. I writhed under his touch and his movements quickened. I would be bride and mate, mother and queen. The pulsing response of my body agreed that this was what I was destined for. This was why I had never and would never find fulfillment in the human world. I screamed my consent and he moved me into a straddle, showing me the rhythm which would lead him to climax. I pillowed his head on my breast as he once again loosed the hot honey of his essence.
He enveloped me in his arms and kept his head at my breast for many long moments. He whispered my name occasionally and I soothed his temple with soft kisses. I realized he must have been lonely too, awaiting an ideal companion who might never arrive. Finally he looked up. His eyes were full of awe and hunger. “You are everything I dreamed you would be.”
I touched the hard contours of his chest. “You are everything I never knew I was always searching for.”
He touched my cheek again and repeated that very soon we must depart. In a few short hours the sky would begin to lighten. “You may bring only what you can carry on your back.”
I motioned to my lover’s nude body. “Don’t you need some clothes?”
Marcus smirked. “You ever see a wolf who wears clothes?” He shook his head. “Don’t worry, we usually dress appropriately as long as we’re in our common form. We only go without when the wolf comes. Wolves have a way of tearing fabric.”
“I can believe that.”
I dressed simply in jeans and a dark v-neck shirt. Marcus explained that he was strong enough to carry me. And quick enough to elude capture. “The ones who see us will blink and then we will be gone. And they will never be quite sure what it was they saw.”
I stuffed a small black duffel bag with several changes of clothes, some errant toiletries, a photo album from my childhood and a small jewelry box which had belonged to my mother.
After locating my cell phone I sent a single text message to Liza.
“I’m going west to be a farmer. I will write. Love, Jessa.” Let her make of that what she would. I left the phone on the futon. I would not be needing it.
My mate awaited me on the balcony. His eyes glittered in the dark night. He licked my hand as I climbed onto his back, nestling my face in his heady animal scent. With a great leap he sailed over the top of the balcony and we landed neatly on the sidewalk below.
I heard a wild shriek. “Ah! It’s a wolf! And he’s got a girl!”
Yes, he did. And then we were gone.
THE LAST WEREWOLF BRIDE 2: Mating Season
The gown was perfect. I ran my hands over the delicious satiny fabric. I didn’t want to take it off. Tomorrow would be my wedding day. Marcus had been amused by my desire for a proper wedding but indulged me nonetheless. The res
t of the pack seemed eager to please their new queen and a look out the window at the idyllic setting showed me the pains they were taking to fulfill my dreams. The men were placing the finishing touches on the white painted archway they had built and the women were creating a canopy of roses over the altar.
Tomorrow the rose petal aisle would be flanked by the Dark Claws family. I would walk down the length of it slowly and at the end join with him. My lover, my king, my wolf. Marcus. It had been three weeks since the werewolf took me under a full moon and erased the virginal school girl forever. I had recognized his words as truth when told me of my destiny. My blood was the last of an ancient line of alpha queens, meant to be mated with the strongest of the werewolves. The right to claim me was won by Marcus.
The knock at the door was timid but it interrupted my reverie. “My lady?”
I rolled my eyes. “You can come in, Tania.” I had told all of them repeatedly that did not have to refer to me in royal terms but Marcus told me to hush, saying it pleased them to serve their queen.
Tania’s lank brown hair was in her face. She was a thin, homely girl but I had not missed her looks of naked lust whenever Marcus was nearby. However, she showed no outward signs of resenting my presence and had willingly assisted me since the day of my arrival. She nodded at the window where preparations continued in the clearing which surrounded the mix of cabins where the members of the pack resided. “We all hope the day will make you happy. We do want you to be happy here.”
I nodded. “It is lovely. I will thank everyone again.” How could I not be happy? I had left behind a lonesome thankless life in a place where I was scarcely noticed. Human men had never treasured me, always looking past my slightly chubby form for a better option. Here, in the rural home of the Dark Claws of northern Idaho, I was cherished, significant. The pack regarded me with a quiet awe. As for Marcus, I could not fairly articulate the feelings his attentions produced. I wanted him. I wanted to please him. And incredibly, he felt the same. He had fought for me and now he would have me forever.
Suddenly the door pushed into Tania’s back and Marcus’s devilish grin appeared. I put a demure hand over my breasts and scolded him. “You aren’t supposed to see the bride in her wedding dress. It’s bad luck.”
He wore no shirt and my sex moistened warmly at the sight of him. He winked. “Then the bride should remove her wedding dress.”
Tania was looking at the floor, an unreadable expression on her face. She mumbled something and hurried out. Marcus closed the door behind her. I stood. “Really Marcus, we should save something for the wedding night.”
He ignored me and pulled up my dress. “Ah, no panties.” His fingered played. “And you’re ready for me.”
I protested weakly but knew it was futile. My body would not let me refuse him. Already he had discarded his jeans and released that throbbing instrument which had so many times already brought me an undulating quiver of bliss. He was gazing hungrily at my breasts and even in my fever of passion I feared he would tear the dress fabric to reach them. With shaking hands I managed to undo the first few buttons and pull the dress down. His mouth was on my nipples immediately. I had come to enjoy his playful nips on my breasts, as the nipples hardened and yearned for more.
His mighty organ reached for me and I bent to it, endlessly fascinated by the girth and the intensity. I licked the sides and rolled the hard head in my mouth as he shuddered with impatience. “I need to have you,” he moaned. But I had learned how to tease him properly. The act was so much more intense if his arousal time was lengthened. I carefully draped my dress across a nearby chair. He gripped my flesh hungrily. He would take me soon, whether I protested or not. I turned and allowed the peachy skin of my ass to rub across his cock. I rose and lowered and rose again in a slow rhythm that toyed with his hot length.
Finally he’d had enough. He turned me and bent me roughly, spreading my legs and letting himself sink into that waiting moist split at my center. I loved the tight seize of his hands over my wide hips, though I knew I would have bruises later.
“Harder,” I insisted. “Harder,” as his pace reached a frenetic rock of primal thrusting. I was unprepared for the orgasm and shouted my pleasure as the wild satisfaction coursed through my body. Marcus would give me the white dress and the ceremony, but they mattered little. He already possessed me. His seed filled me and I wondered how long until it took root inside. I had been disappointed last week when my period came just like clockwork. The thought of carrying a growing piece of the Dark Claws alpha in my body filled me with unutterable arousal and longing.
Marcus was speaking as he hurriedly dressed. “We’ll be gone an hour or two.” He flashed me a grin. “How many werewolves does it take to try on a tuxedo?”
I tilted my head, not minding my nudity. “How many?”
Marcus didn’t answer. He lifted me up and I let my legs snake around his waist. “Soon, Jessa. Soon our cub will be growing strong inside you. And his birth will dawn a new day for the Dark Claws.” He kissed me deep, then pulled back, his eyes regretful. “If I stay any longer I’ll need you again.” He would be bringing all the male brethren who would be participating in tomorrow’s big day as they all needed to retrieve their tuxedos.
Just as he was about to duck out the door I called his name. He turned and I touched my sore pussy in front of his ravenous eyes. “Don’t consider being gentle tomorrow night.”
He grinned dryly and gave a stiff little bow. “My queen, we won’t be gentle with each other.”
I listened as he gathered up his brothers and cousins for the ride into town. They were a rowdy, playful bunch and I could hear much roughhousing and terse growling amid the gunning of engines. As the sound of the vehicles receded, I picked up my wedding gown and pulled it to my chest. Sometimes when I awoke in the morning I worried all the impossible events of the last several weeks would have been a dream. I would still be that lonely girl selecting marathon Netflix programming while sitting on my red futon with a carton of ice cream. But the moment Marcus landed on my balcony and rapidly seduced me that life was over. I would be queen at his side, and someday mother to pack’s future alpha.
The existence of this unknown world still fascinated me. Almost as much as my werewolf’s body fascinated me. The thought of his splendid naked form brought a swirl of warm pleasure from within and I smiled. Slowly I pulled on my dress and stared at myself in the mirror. My wildest fantasies could not have conjured a more perfect destiny.
I heard the creak of the door. I figured Tania had returned to help with any further preparations. I turned, about to speak and was faced with a frightening white wolf. I knew the shapes of the pack by now as well as I knew their faces. This wolf was not of the Dark Claws. He lowered his head and growled, baring his teeth as presently a second and then a third wolf joined him. I had never seen any of them before. A scream was on my lips when a man entered.
His hair was closely shaven, so blonde as to be nearly white. His figure was imposing; he was nearly as large and muscled as Marcus. He wore a black leather jacket over a bare chest which showed an enormous tattoo of a set of bared animal teeth. He put a finger to his lips and smiled. The smile was icy. “Shhhh. Come quietly and there will be no blood.”
I glanced out the window in a panic. No one was in sight. All the strongest men had left for town. The remaining women, children and elderly would be torn to shreds by the likes of this pack. One look at the cold eyes of the alpha and the glowing glares of his brethren told me they did not mind taking blood. “Who are you?” I whispered.
He enjoyed answering the question. “Rocco of the Iron Jaws.” He stepped closer to me, leering at my body. He placed a finger at the rim of my dress where my breasts heaved with fear. “And you belong to me.”
I understood. At least I thought I did. Marcus had told me of his fight to win the right to claim me. I tried not to less my voice betray my terror as I mocked him. “So you were the loser.”
That he did not li
ke. A low grow came from his throat and his eyes flashed the wolf glow. Just as quickly he regained control and that smooth voice spoke again. His breath was hot against my face. “Once your pack gets our scent there will be fight.” His searing tongue ran down my neck and I gasped. “A fight they will not win. And you will be mine just the same.”
Several of the wolves snarled and spun to the open door. Tania’s plain head appeared. I opened my mouth to shout a warning but her smile caught me off guard. She looked flushed and nearly pretty as she addressed Rocco. “So now that you have her, take her.”
Rocco smirked. “And your support is appreciated, sweet girl.” He nodded to the wolves. “I will carry the queen to the house.” He jerked his head in Tania’s direction. “Do with this one what you like.”
Tania’s smile froze on her face. She opened her mouth but no scream came out. Rocco heaved me over one strong shoulder and carried me out the door. The last I heard of Tania were her soft cries of “No, no, please!!!” as the walls shook.
Once outside Rocco threw me down. I heard the dim laughter of children as I struggled to regain my breath. Rocco leaned into my face. He smelled of blood. “You will hold to me, sweet queen. Or the innocent in your pack will suffer.” He removed his jacket with that he changed into the wolf. With a jerk of his head he motioned for me to climb on his back. Tears pricked at my eyes as I gripped his bristly white fur. I longed to fight back but knew I would be risking the most helpless members of the pack.
What would Marcus do? He would certainly come after me. And then what? These grim Iron Jaws seemed far different from the playful Dark Claws. I could not be certain he would survive a fight.
A high gurgle of death reached my ears and a moment later the other three wolves burst out of the cabin. Blood stained their snouts and splattered their fur. One wolf picked up Rocco’s dropped jacket in his teeth and bolted into the woods. As the other two followed I saw the bloody prints they left on the white canvas which had been laid out to serve as the bridal aisle. With a giant leap Rocco chased the other Iron Jaws. I caught sight of a figure at the edge of the woods. Sasha, mate of Marcus’s brother Kiko, was returning from the woods with a basket of flowers. He face wore a mask of horror as we sped past. I closed my eyes, and gripped the brutal monster’s neck as we traveled swiftly through the cool woods.