Cry Wolf

by Aurelia T. Evans

  “I’m fucking ready, witch, just fuck me already. I’m going to come without you.”

  “If you like,” Kelly said, getting up on her knees and pouring the rest of the vial over the dildo. She spread the lubricant over the toy, stroking firmly over the material and biting her lip. The down strokes pressed the base of it against her clit.

  Her skin tingled, and her nipples, cunt and clit ached for attention. But what she was doing to Malcolm, the way she had him completely at her mercy, the way he needed her every step of the way—that was as stimulating to her as any touch. She preened like a peacock or a rooster, and damn anyone who told her that was only for alphas and males. There were some things she simply couldn’t do as a female werewolf and as a woman, but getting off on screwing a man wasn’t on that list.

  “That is so hot,” Malcolm said as she prepared herself. “It shouldn’t be, but fuck…”

  “And why shouldn’t it be?” Kelly asked. She angled his hips up with one hand and pressed the tip against his stretched hole, slowly pushing in.

  He let loose a string of expletives as the dildo filled him farther and better than just her fingers could. When she was all the way in, she pulled back a little then thrust. Malcolm shouted at the skylight, coming so hard that one of the spurts got semen on the blinds at the top of the window. He clamped down around her dildo so that she couldn’t move. Kelly waited for the last bit of cum to fall on his chest before bending down and licking it from his skin. After all, he couldn’t clean himself up, bound as he was.

  She lapped at his chest and eventually made her way to his nipple while he caught his breath.

  “You going to ever let me go, witch?” he asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “Then do you mind scratching my stomach? Your hair tickles.”

  Kelly giggled and sat up. He winced from hypersensitivity when that made her move a little inside him. But as she scratched his abdomen, he hummed in pleasure with the same relish that she might enjoy a good back massage.

  When she shifted to scratch his chest and over his upper arms, his thighs twitched, but so did his cock.

  “Can you kiss me?” Malcolm asked. She liked how he requested that she kiss him instead of whether he could kiss her. She covered his lips with hers, undulating her hips a little to ease in and out of him. His cock stirred again against her stomach.

  “Don’t you want me to return the favour?” Malcolm asked when she sat up.

  “I’ll take what I need in a few minutes,” Kelly said. “Right now, I want you to take it.”

  She pulled her hips back then pushed back in.

  “God,” Malcolm moaned. “Fuck, already?”

  “Mm-hmm,” she responded. He had recovered quite quickly indeed.

  This time she thrust in hard, making him shout as the toy stroked over his prostate and sent sparks of a different kind of pleasure through him. She felt them through her palms where she clutched his thighs.

  And she didn’t stop. She watched with fascination as his cock came back to life, growing before her eyes from the way she stroked his insides with the toy. Every thrust, of course, applied pressure on and around her clit, and her breasts swung. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her, from the jiggling of her breasts down to the way her hips worked between his legs. She wished he could see her entering him, see the dildo disappearing inside him the way his cock had disappeared into Ki’s cunt the other night.

  “If only you knew how mouth-watering you look with my cock fucking you,” Kelly said, biting his nipple and plunging into him harder. “Do you want me to fuck you? You want it harder, wolf? You want to hurt?”

  “God, yes, fuck me,” Malcolm begged, his eyes slightly glazed and his lips wet.

  She slammed into him, pistoning in and out as fast and hard as she could. He lifted his hips to meet her, putting his feet flat on the bed to give himself some leverage. Kelly keened as the pressure against her clit made her cunt clench. Her thighs were slippery with her wetness. Malcolm’s cock was hard again, jutting thick and proud, and bobbing against his stomach in the dried pre-cum from his previous erection.

  “Fuck, witch, is that the best you got?” Malcolm challenged through wolf teeth. He rattled his chains.

  She pulled abruptly out of him and combed her hair back with her nails. He growled from being denied once again, his eyes light and pupils dark and large as they looked into hers.

  “No,” she replied. With magic, she raised herself into the air, spreading her legs. Holding his cock, she positioned him at her entrance so that she was floating above him with just the tip of his cock pressed against her hungry cunt.

  “Kelly,” he rasped.

  She slammed down over him just as his hips jerked, and they both cried out.

  “You’re dripping,” Malcolm said. “You like that, witch?”

  Using the prodigious strength of her thighs and a little more magic, she rode him, stripping away his words and leaving him only with animalistic groans and growls as she bounced over him and undulated her hips. She grasped the dildo, pressing it against her clit as she fucked herself on him. He could do nothing but let her pleasure herself with his body and just praise any given deity that she was bringing him along for the ride.

  “Yes, yes, yes, yes,” she gasped, closing her eyes as her efforts brought her already keen arousal to its peak. It only took a few minutes before she was pulsing, tightening like a fist around his cock to milk his second orgasm from him. The trailer, which had already been swaying from their actions, shuddered during the entire length of her orgasm as though they were in an earthquake. After the trailer had stilled, she continued to move her hips until he was spent.

  She unlatched the harness with her magic, and it fell onto the bed, allowing her to collapse on top of him, her hair a cushion on his chest. When he shifted with a clinking sound, she opened the chains as well, sending them back into the drawer. She’d have to wash off the dildo and the leather before putting those back.

  “You still hungry?” Kelly asked, catching her breath.

  “Famished,” he replied.

  She raised her hand and held it there until her cellphone reached her. She propped herself up on his chest as she searched for a pizza place that delivered.

  “Meat Lovers?” he suggested.

  “You’re speaking my language,” she said before ordering two larges. Pizza kept well, and she had room in the fridge.

  She put the cellphone on the windowsill after she had made the order and lay back down on top of him. Malcolm stroked her sides lightly, his fingertips brushing against the flowers over her back.

  “Why do I get the impression you went easy on me?” Malcolm asked.

  “I take things slow,” Kelly said, grinning. “One earth-shaking revelation at a time.”

  He snorted. “On the brighter side, I’ve never literally rocked someone’s world before.”

  She hit his shoulder and tried not to laugh. “Technically, I rocked my own world.”

  “You really know how to make a guy feel special,” Malcolm said.

  “If it helps, you’ve been incredibly game for anything I’ve dished out so far.” Her hands on his chest gave her chin someplace to rest. She peered at him contentedly. “I’m glad you trust me.”

  “I trust you a hell of a lot more than you have reason to trust me,” Malcolm said.

  “I’ve had no reason to distrust you so far,” Kelly said.

  “Except for my behaviour.”

  “Malcolm, I can tell untrustworthy people. You’re not untrustworthy. You’re private and you’re guarded, so the fact you’ve chosen to open up to me and trust me as much as you have is pretty much an honour.”

  “I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?” Malcolm said. “The werewolf brings everything to the surface whether I want it to or not. Besides, anything else I try to hide, you’d be able to see, right?”

  “I try not to, I told you,” Kelly replied. “Most of what comes through I have no control over,
or it’s at the forefront of the mind rather than something that I excavate. The wolf does dredge everything up, though. You learn to work with it.” At his raised eyebrow, she added, “If you stay a werewolf.”

  “Thanks for supporting my delusion.”

  “You’re welcome. By the way, I have this wonderful beachfront property…”

  “I discovered I could shapeshift when I was eleven. Unlike Jake, Max and Ki, I didn’t grow up knowing what I was. I didn’t grow up around other people like me,” Malcolm interrupted quietly.

  Kelly stopped joking to listen. She might only get this one chance while he was relaxed with post-coital hormones.

  “It wasn’t as bad as Britt, shifting all her life and having to leave before her parents could kill her for it. I managed to keep it from my parents while I explored it, scared and exhilarated in turns. What can I say? I was a teenage boy, excited by terror but notoriously bad at being careful. I got cocky, and my parents saw me change. The looks on their faces, the shock and fear, made me ashamed of what I was and what I had done to them. As the dog, I ran. I lived as a stray. It isn’t as romantic as it sounds.”

  “It sounds lonely,” Kelly replied. “And cold. And hungry. For a dog.”

  He nodded, not looking at her.

  “The dogs that Renee rescues know they’ve been saved from a much worse fate. For someone who’s run among strays, it’s so obvious to me how important the sanctuary is,” Malcolm said. “I encountered dog packs back then, but some of them didn’t want me and chased me away. The ones that wanted me, I didn’t want them, because I’m only half dog and I didn’t belong in an actual dog pack.

  “I eventually started noticing that some of the dogs I encountered, usually loners, were different from other dogs. I can’t tell you how I knew, because it wasn’t smell. A lot of strays have some human smell on them. We all hung out in human areas, eating human scraps, some of us getting fed by humans who wanted to help us. It was just a feeling, an innate sense of kinship.”

  Kelly nodded to indicate that she understood. Like always seemed to recognise like. Sometimes it was just a gut feeling, even for people who weren’t psychic.

  “Most stray shapeshifters—cats, dogs, urban creatures—they acknowledge each other and stay out of each other’s way. Stray shifter packs aren’t very cooperative. They made me feel unwelcome. Even so, it was a relief to learn that I wasn’t alone, that there were other people out there who could do the same things I could. If I had to be a solitary freak, at least I wasn’t the only freak.”

  Malcolm stared up at the skylight, looking into the past. Kelly just watched his face, glimpses of his life crossing through her vision as though his words themselves wove the images.

  “I rarely left my dog skin,” he said, “but when I did, it was because I kept meeting a few stray shifters over and over again in the city. There were two dogs, a man and a woman, and then there was a cat who was a man. We didn’t make a point to run in the same circles, but we each had our territory and there was some overlap. Eventually, as we got familiar with each other, we started waiting for night to fall to emerge from our skins and talk with each other. I think we did it to remind ourselves that we were human, too.

  The cat shifter was the one who…taught me about sex. He was older, but I was twenty and lonely and overwhelmed by what he could make my body feel. It was never about who he was, that he was a he, or that he was a cat in his other skin. When we finished, we ran in different directions, but at least we had our moments—minutes, really—when we weren’t alone.”

  He started stroking her hair the way he might stroke a cat. Kelly didn’t think he even knew he was doing it, but it soothed almost as much as his story saddened her. On the surface, her own story seemed much different, yet she couldn’t help but think that they had both been lost the same way.

  “It was all very much the same from the time I left home to when I first heard whispers of a dog sanctuary that also welcomed stray shapeshifters, if they could keep their noses clean. It was shelter and food and love, everything a dog could ever want. It seemed unreal at the time, which was why I didn’t go for another few years.

  “But after a while, the whispers just became too tempting. I ran my way up to the forests and sneaked in. Max noticed me immediately. He and Ki were the first ones to welcome me. I hadn’t even changed into human skin, but they told me I didn’t have to unless I wanted to. And I didn’t for a while. I couldn’t believe how good it was just being a dog and my existence being acknowledged instead of ignored—the biggest difference between a stray dog and a dog with a home. In their dog skins, the shifters encouraged me to run with them and…”

  Malcolm swallowed then continued, “You’d think that if a canine shapeshifter came to the sanctuary to be the dog more often, to embrace both of our natures, we’d be in dog skin more. But once I emerged as human, Max and Ki welcomed me just as much in that form. Leslie, Jake, Britt and Renee, all of them accepted me when Max and Ki brought me in. It was always so easy with them. Because the sanctuary was welcoming to dogs and shapeshifters, it was somehow much easier for me to be human again. I was never alone anymore. All that time in my own head, struggling for every last inch of my life, and suddenly I had pack that I didn’t have to fight to keep.

  “Except now I do. I have to fight every second I’m with them, fight not to hurt them, fight not to attack them with my words, fight not to eat them, fight to belong with them again. That’s what Grant stole from me. That’s what being a werewolf takes from me.” He caressed her cheek with his thumb. “That’s why I need to try this Father guy. It’s not that you haven’t been endlessly patient, and I guess that werewolf pack seems halfway decent. But I already have pack. I’m exiled from it, but there’s still a space for me if I can get rid of this. This disease.”

  Kelly kept her thoughts to herself about how things change and how those changes didn’t mean he had to relinquish pack or even friendship. To tell him that for the fifty thousandth time would be useless. Malcolm needed his last-ditch effort. He needed to go forward on his own to discover that the fantasy in front of him was a mirage. Nothing she said, nothing she prophesied, would change his mind.

  She wanted desperately to tell him that Damien had welcomed him into the pack without Malcolm needing to prove himself worthy and how rare that was. She wanted to tell him that his relationship with the shapeshifters had irreparably altered, but that didn’t mean they loved him less, only that they couldn’t love him in the exact way they once had. She wanted to tell him that leaving them didn’t mean going back to being alone and hungry.

  She wanted to tell him that she had grown to love him because he was a good wolf and could be a good man when the former no longer interfered with the latter—and that hurt just thinking about it, because it was dangerous to love someone who wouldn’t love her.

  So Kelly kept her secrets.

  “I know what it’s like to be alone,” Kelly said softly. “And how hard it is to let go of what you have once you have it. In my case, I probably should’ve let it go sooner.” She covered his mouth with her palm before he could protest. “Only in my case. It wasn’t a commentary on what you should do.”

  His hands had moved farther down her hips to massage her buttocks and thighs, rubbing mostly uninked skin. A mixture of her juices and his semen dripped out of her now and onto his thighs. He leant forward and kissed her almost contemplatively before rolling them both over so that she was beneath him, pressed into the mattress.

  “You mean your alpha from before?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Believe it or not, being a werewolf doesn’t mean you have complete licence to be a prick. David wasn’t a prick all the time, but he really could be, like a lot of alphas. I lived with it. I didn’t have to.”

  “You had a pack, though, and you liked having a pack.” Malcolm pushed himself down her body and off the bed. He used the top sheet to clean his stomach and thighs then tugged the sheet out from under her and tossed it to the
floor. It thumped because of the harness and dildo wrapped inside it.

  “I had a pack, but it was David’s pack, not mine.”

  “But you like Damien,” Malcolm said.

  “He’s good people,” Kelly replied softly. “And so is most of his pack.”

  “Most?”

  “I have history with the head bitch, but it’s not like she’s my arch enemy or anything,” Kelly said. “Do you get along with everyone in the sanctuary?”

  “It’s pretty easy to stay out of people’s way if you don’t like each other,” Malcolm said, kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed. “I don’t think we’ve ever had an outright fight before. Most shifters who didn’t like the company just moved on, no questions asked. The rest of the time, we mostly keep to our respective packs.”

  “You and Max never fought?” Kelly asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Maybe on occasion,” Malcolm admitted.

  “Werewolf packs are a little different,” Kelly conceded, “especially with emotions on edge. But most packs work surprisingly well. Like the dog shapeshifters, we move packs if we don’t fit. Dynamics change all the time. And Damien… Well, I don’t know how to explain it. You don’t have the history with all the packs that I have. Let’s just say he tossed convention out the window by compiling a pack out of a band of misfit toys.”

  “And he’s inviting you,” Malcolm said.

  “If I’m not a misfit toy, what am I?” Kelly asked. She spread her arms. “I’m an exiled werewolf who doesn’t eat humans, a witch who mostly does party tricks, not to mention a human pincushion.”