by Godiva Glenn
Currents of bliss flowed from where she sucked and lathered his cock. She was starving for him. His body was already rejuvenated. In his natural state and with the hum of the ley lines surging through his body, he felt more powerful than ever but more than that, he yearned for the companionship being offered him. Though he mourned the loss of her lips covering him, he gently pulled the woman from his lap and cradled her as carefully as he could so that their eyes met.
It was unfathomable how her large eyes could at once seem so innocent and sweet yet also filled with dark knowledge of their actions.
"What is your name?" he asked softly.
She licked her lips and a crooked smile formed on them. "Liana."
"Soft. Like you." He curled her close for a moment. "You are very soft Liana. I could die in you."
Her eyes closed and she shivered, the small action lifting tiny bumps over her smooth dark skin. He lay back on the ground and pulled her across him. "Take," he said.
Understanding dawned and her face lit up with mischief. Delicate hands ran over his body, burrowing through his fur while she shifted and explored. She slid so that her breasts rested on his leg while she stared at his cock. Amazement danced over her face, and she licked him slowly and lovingly and ran her fingertips from tip to sack with noises of delight escaping with her every breath.
That she wasn't afraid or disgusted was beyond a surprise, and that lack of aversion brought them closer. He had always imagined that finding a woman that would accept his beast would be impossible and that he would always have to take his pleasures in human form. Sometimes he wondered if he would simply snap and take a woman by force, just to get it out of his system. He didn't know the reason he longed to have a human, forsaking even the female werewolves in their human disguises.
Liana dragged one last lingering flick of her tongue over him and then straddled him. Those large chocolate eyes bored into his own gold ones as she lowered herself onto him. A spell seemed to have been cast on him, and he couldn't look away from her. He took in her dark hair and plump pouty lips. He admired her soft yet toned arms and delicate wrists and hands. Her large supple breasts jiggled with every breath, every shudder, every movement of her body. And her thighs and legs held him with every lean muscle as if she feared he would try to run away. As if this was a dream that could escape.
He arched his hips, impatient to feel her again, and his tip slid into her warm entrance. Longing to delve into the wet pussy that he'd aroused—to glide in the moisture he'd created—dazed him. She circled over him, bringing her body down and over his in tiny perfect movements that tore a growl from his throat. He'd told her to take, and she was going to kill him with her needs. Whatever he had imagined this could feel like, this was infinitely more intense.
When he was completely engulfed in her heat, she began to move. Leaning forward so that her breasts swung or arching back so that they bounced, she rode him and took every pleasure his body could give her. Tight and stretched around him, she drew something carnal from him. He felt possessed in a way he didn't understand, as if even in his natural form as he was, there was another beast within him. That beast wanted to make Liana scream and cum and cry and...
She was massaging her own breasts with one hand as the other pressed into his chest with a grip that tugged almost painfully at his fur. Sweat shone on her body and she radiated feverish heat. She was actively searching for the right spot, he knew. And when she found it, her moans ripped at his sanity. Her rising and falling became frantic, and he could no longer simply watch her.
Careful not to hurt her, he palmed her breasts and swept his paws over her body, gripping her ass, urging her on. His hips pistoned up, aiding her in her frenzied climb. She was whispering, under her moans and gasps.
"Fuck me," she said reverently, on repeat, the words soft and strained and beautiful. How could he do anything but obey?
Rocking and arching, she took him far into herself until she was crying out in pain and rapture. He couldn't stop. Her muscles twitched around him and she had to be close. He wanted to push her over, needed to feel her squeezing around him while she came.
"Cum!” he snarled.
Her head fell forward and she whimpered the loveliest sound. He continued to slam upward, feeling the clutch of her pussy while she came and became even warmer, even softer. She seemed to melt above him, and he couldn't stop filling her. She squirmed as she came down from her euphoric high.
"Too much, too much," she panted.
He paused only long enough to flip her over and re-enter her from behind. He held her hips up and in place while she thrashed and moaned on the ground. She'd taken what she needed, and now it was his turn. The beast in him demanded that he mate properly with her. Snatches of reason came to him. He knew her knees must hurt on the leaves and twigs and dirt. He knew he was too deep and she was too sore. He knew a knot had formed, and he had to keep going.
But she was his. And she wanted to be his. For every blink of concern for her, there was a gasp from her mouth telling him not to stop. That she loved it. How then, could he do anything but take his pleasure and give her his seed?
With a final stab into her, he erupted. Fierce and unrestrained, he howled into the night, shaking the silence from the trees. A moment of darkness clouded his vision while the luxurious riotous waves of his orgasm seeped through him. He felt his cock twitch and empty. She was whispering, high yet soft.
"Oh god, I feel it."
He didn't want to leave her. The primal need he'd given in to was sated for the moment. She was claimed. He licked her neck, tasting her clean skin and the salt of her sweat. A moment of fear caught him. Would she be filled with regret? Had he hurt her?
"I feel like my pussy was hit by a truck," she groaned.
But then she giggled and wiggled her ass against him and like that, the fear dissipated. Slowly, feeling the loss of her heat like torture, he pulled from her.
His seed trickled out and covered her. She reached down and rubbed it over her swollen folds, sighing so contentedly it shook him.
"Keep me," she breathed.
He sat back on his haunches and looked up, taking in the moon that drifted behind wisps of lazy clouds. His cock twitched, awake again. For her sake, he would have to train himself that just because he wanted to fuck her, didn't mean he should. She could only handle so much, yet she seemed the type to be in denial. He'd hurt her if he didn't pay attention.
"You're definitely mine," he snarled possessively.
Epilogue
Gabe flipped through the endless possibilities of Netflix and tried not to acknowledge the lingering misery that tormented him. Now a week after Halloween, the world was in a full-blown frenzy over the next holiday, but he was solidly stuck in the past. He hadn't slept in days. Every time he closed his eyes he saw her.
Vella.
Soft hair colored like a pale flower under the moonlight, which danced when she'd laugh. Her smile, which she gave so many times that night. Easy to please, easy to display her excitement and delight. Or rapture. Those expressive emerald eyes.
He could even recall how her silky skin felt under his hands. By the end of the night, he could trail his fingertips across her stomach and leave streaks that glowed from her pleasure. Every inch of her had responded to him, and he had been filled with the awareness that they were meant to be. Not just because of how their bodies fit together so keenly, but because he had found himself entranced by her carefree demeanor and unpredictable yet always engaging conversation.
And if he wasn't completely delusional, she'd liked him too. She could have ended up with any human at the party, and with one night to enjoy herself she'd chosen him. Amidst the sex, he'd not truly registered that. It was a powerful notion, to be wanted like that. For as long as her lifetime would be, she may only get the opportunity to appear in human form once, and she'd spent the entire night with him. Never boring, never tiring, never being struck with the urge to try someone new and expand her horizons. He
was enough.
He'd never been enough for anyone, and now she was gone.
He felt something close around his ankle, then the floor reached up and slammed into his back and head with a vengeance.
"Get off the fucking couch already," Aaron growled.
Gabe flipped the annoyed werewolf off and stayed on the floor, content to sink and leave a depression in the carpet the size of his agony.
"What is wrong with you?" Aaron asked, vaulting over him to land on the couch.
"I told you. I can't stop thinking about her. I think I'm dying." He wasn't sure if he was exaggerating, truth be told. He hadn't even felt the urge to eat lately.
"That's what you get for drinking fairy nectar. You're addicted. Fairy-struck."
"It's not just that. I love her. And by the way, fuck you. You could have given me some heads up about the complications of getting laid at that party. How was I supposed to guess, in a million years, that I'd meet a real fairy?"
Aaron sighed and patted Gabe's head condescendingly. "Hindsight is a bitch. I'm both entertained and appalled by your luck, and that had I interfered you probably would have been a lonely, dull, fly on the wall all night."
"We had a connection."
"Maybe."
"Fuck you."
"My dance card's full, thanks."
Gabe rolled his eyes. Aaron was now seeing his Halloween fling on a regular basis. Whether it was a casual sex thing or an actual relationship was hard to tell, since all they did was fuck like rabbits constantly.
They sat in silence, Gabe wincing at the way his heart felt to be spilling its contents at a steady rate, and Aaron no doubt thinking of his plans to nail his busty lady friend to the apartment wall the minute she dropped by. An odd heat surged through the room and Gabe groaned. It felt like supernatural energy, and usually, that meant Aaron was up to something. He sat up and looked back at his friend.
Aaron was looking around the room suspiciously, and his expression caught Gabe off-guard. A firefly appeared in the room, landing on the couch back. Aaron cursed and shot from the couch, but then he started to laugh. Gabe stared at the hysterical werewolf for a moment then turned to examine the firefly. Had they left a window open? And did fireflies usually light up in the middle of the day? He wasn't a bug expert.
The insect in question buzzed around the room, finally landing on Gabe's leg. He bent his leg and it fluttered about and perched on his upright knee. Probably due to the oddity of the circumstance, Gabe felt lighter. Maybe life isn't so bad.
The insect's glow grew brighter, and the room practically vibrated with the heat and energy. Startled, he looked around to see what could be causing it. His knee grew hot, and the firefly developed a disproportionate weight to its size. Rubbing his eyes, which could no longer stare into the bright light, he turned away. He was thrown back to the floor then, tackled by some unseen force.
When he opened his eyes he saw large green eyes. It can't be. A soft tongue invaded his mouth and the taste was familiar—sweet and perfect. Vella. His arms wrapped around her, and just as before encountered the sensation that their bodies were meant to touch like this. She rocked against his lap, urging his cock to stiffen, his hips to rise against her. He gripped her ass to better grind against her-
"Uh, I'm still here," Aaron coughed.
Gabe ignored him. Vella turned her head for a moment to look at Aaron but then returned to kissing Gabe, riding his lap impatiently.
"What are you doing here? Fuck, how are you even here?" Aaron demanded.
Vella stopped and straightened, brushing her hair back with a sigh. Gabe propped himself up on his elbows. It was a damn good question. She'd said that taking a full-sized form was a rare occurrence, after all. One that she'd only experienced once on that Halloween night.
"Vella?" he asked.
"I guess by now you've noticed that you miss me?" she squeaked.
"Of course I miss you."
"Definitely fairy-struck," Aaron chimed in.
"But, you see, I did try to stop you. I protested-" she explained.
"Stop me when? Look, this is all new to me. Aaron told me it was your nectar, and I've told him a million times I didn't drink any nectar. I didn't even have a drink you could spike."
Aaron's laughter boomed through the room, and Vella blushed furiously while a smile broke across her lips. "Gabe, you did drink my nectar. Though, I suppose I can understand the confusion. It's meant to be a poetic thing I guess."
"Her pussy, dumbass. You ate her pussy. That nectar." Aaron snorted.
Gabe's jaw dropped and he stared at Vella while he tried to remember that night. There was no protesting that he could recall. "You didn't really try to stop me. You just stammered some nonsense. I thought you were being shy."
She shrugged, but her head had drooped so that her face was hidden. She was drawing small circles on his stomach, and it calmed him.
"That doesn't explain why you're here, though. He's fairy-struck so he's destined to waste away pining for you, but come on." Aaron sighed.
"Well," she shifted in Gabe's lap, wiggling against his erection while his eyes rolled back. She felt like a dream, even through his clothing. "We bonded."
"Holy shit." Aaron's voice was one of disbelief. "Gabe, you ass. You didn't tell me that. You got a fairy to suck you off? And swallow? That's epic. Stupid, but epic."
Gabe painstakingly removed his head from the gutters to rejoin the conversation. "Of course I didn't tell you that, just like I didn't tell you anything because the details are not your business. And what is bonding?"
"Slavery," Aaron said.
“Mating," Vella said at the same time. She glared towards Aaron. "It's not slavery," she protested.
"Really? Because every instance of it I've heard entails the human bending over backward to get rewarded with sex, or having to dole out endless sexual favors."
"Anything can be abused,” she reasoned.
Gabe took hold of Vella's hand, halting her doodling and causing her to look at him. "Am I to be your sex slave? Really?"
"No!" she pouted. "I... You're so funny, and cute, and just... I like you. So after you drank my nectar I decided to bond with you so that you wouldn't have to suffer. I couldn't stand to think of you being fairy-struck and being miserable for the rest of your life.
"I bonded so that we could be together forever. We're mated. A couple. I can take this form whenever I want, and the only price is that, yes, we have to have sex. Often. Or we'll both start to waste away.” Some of the playfulness left her voice while she rambled. "I thought you'd like that. Is it so bad to be with me?"
On some level, this could be seen as manipulative or abusive, Gabe was certain. But Vella was too pure to have done this with malicious intent. They had connected, as he thought. He wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Everything he'd imagined had been confirmed. He was her everything, just as she was his.
He sat up and cupped her face in his hands, brushing his fingertips across her soft pink cheeks. "I love you," he whispered before kissing her.
Impatient, he broke from the kiss only long enough to yank off his shirt and then hers. She wore only a pale blue camisole and no bra, so that he was licking her breasts within seconds. Her eager moans tickled his ears, and he needed more. Pushing her back, he rolled them over and shoved his jeans off so quickly he practically collapsed between her legs. Another second and he'd pushed her skirt up so that he could drool over her blue satin panties.
As he dove forward, nipping at the tiny fabric barrier, he heard a door slam. Aaron leaving, he assumed, and that didn't stop him. Vella was mumbling and all Gabe cared about was the way her skin had started to glow. He slid her panties to the side and dipped his tongue into her decadent wetness. Being fairy-struck wasn't so bad.
About the Author
Godiva Glenn started out by writing steamy romance novels, but soon discovered a penchant for creating delightful erotic encounters. She holds a B.A. in Literature, which more
or less means she has spent more hours reading and writing than she would ever care to admit to.
Most of her writing is produced in the form of sizzling short stories, which tie into a single universe of men and women just looking for some fun... and the occasional happily ever after.
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