Fur and Fangs Box Set

by Rae D. Magdon

  Once I’ve started, I can’t stop. My cock pounds harder each time Izzy pumps her fist. When she moves her hand down to cup my balls, I send another spurt splashing onto my stomach. She stays there, squeezing softly until I’m a shuddering mess with nothing else to give.

  When it’s over, most of my body is still sticky and trembling. “Holy shit,” I mutter, slumping forward to rest my forehead on Izzy’s shoulder. She unlatches her mouth and laughs, kissing my burning cheek.

  “That good, huh?”

  I groan. “Any better, and you might’ve pulled the soul outta me.”

  Izzy’s lips move up to my temple and linger there. “Does that mean you need a rest?” She gives me another squeeze, and I feel a sharp tug in my shaft. Maybe this thing is taking directions from my clit, because underneath, I’m still wet and ready to go, even if my limbs are shaking and my lungs are still screaming for air.

  “No, just gimme a minute.”

  I tilt my head to catch Izzy’s lips, and we kiss for a while, exploring each other’s mouths. Kissing turns to touching, and touching turns into me stretched out on top of her. Sooner than I think, I’ve got my energy back. I’m still a little dizzy, but that’s not a bad thing. Plus, I’m still happy and lightheaded from Izzy’s feeding. She feels warmer with some of my blood in her, and downright fiery when I slide my hand between her legs.

  My fingers find wetness right away. Izzy’s a dripping mess, and there’s no resistance when I push my fingers in. Her muscles clench, and I shudder with want. Soon, I’ll get to feel her tightness wrapped around me.

  The thought grips my guts and gives a sharp tug. I growl, nosing at Izzy’s neck, and rock my hips forward. The tip of my cock skims her soft belly, but it isn’t what I need. I want to find out how she feels inside. I’ve thought about it, dreamed about it more than I’m comfortable admitting.

  “Riley,” Izzy murmurs. She spreads her legs wide, staring up at me with those beautiful brown eyes. “Fuck me.”

  Her plea only makes me hungrier. I line my pelvis up with hers and take my shaft in hand. Touching myself isn’t as good as when Izzy does it, but I don’t care. I’m about to feel something even better.

  I use the last of the patience I have to trace the head between her slippery lips, making sure I skim over all her sensitive bits and nudge her clit. Izzy sighs and wraps her arms around me. Her nails rake down my back and I can’t wait anymore. I find her opening and push.

  The warmth is overwhelming. Most of Izzy’s body is a heatsink, but she’s a furnace between her legs when she’s turned on—and she’s definitely turned on, dripping all over me. She’s a pool of liquid fire I’m desperate to enter.

  I do a few slow strokes first. The thrusting motion is new to me, and kind of awkward too. It pulls my thighs and lower back in strange places, but soon I get the hang of it. Izzy gasps as I work the head inside her, and then she says two words that almost make me come again right then and there: “Riley, more.”

  More. Izzy wants more of me. My chest nearly bursts with pride. I brace myself on my elbows and try to get deeper. Another inch of my shaft sinks inside, and Izzy’s tightness pulls a groan straight out of me. I can feel her walls clenching around me even as they stretch to let me in. It feels so damn good my vision blurs and I have to stop for a second.

  Before I can recover, Izzy gets greedy. She drags her right foot up along the back of my thigh and digs her heel into my ass, tightening the hook of her knee around my waist. I slip forward nice and easy. She’s tighter than a first-gear hairpin and hotter than all hell, but so slick there’s hardly any resistance. After a couple more thrusts, I’m buried balls deep and not sure I can breathe.

  Izzy starts moving first. She lifts her hips beneath mine, pressing her clit into me. The motion sends a jolt straight through me. My first thrust is on instinct, but the second one’s on purpose—and then I can’t stop. I pump in and out of her, not caring that I’m sloppy and awkward. It feels too incredible to stop.

  Izzy’s like satin shivering around me and it feels amazing, but the sounds. Heavens above, the sounds my girl makes. They’re the sweetest things my ears have ever heard, a string of broken moans and high-pitched whimpers. I speed up. I’m of a mind to fuck her ‘til she screams my name, and I won’t give up, even though pressure’s already building in me again.

  I try to shut my mind off, to slow down the rush of sensation. Think about something else. Anything else. Not about how tight she is, or how soft she feels inside, or how warm and wet and—shit. I bury my face in the pillow beside her head, but my hips have a mind of their own. They keep plowing forward, unsteady and desperate.

  Izzy doesn’t mind. She wraps her arms around me and holds me close, kissing behind my ear. “You feel so good, baby. Filling me so good…”

  My rhythm falters. It’s not my name, but I lap up the praise like a lost soul in the desert. I want to fill her good. To make her feel as amazing as I feel. To thank her for being so warm and kind and caring, and for the incredible gift she’s given me. After how wonderful she’s been to me tonight, she deserves it. I shift my angle a bit, trying to grind the base of my shaft into her clit. She’s so wet that I can rub right over it with each thrust, again and again.

  That’s how I finally make her come. Izzy stiffens beneath me, shuddering from head to toe. The next time I push in, she yelps my name to the ceiling, ending on a sob.

  “Rileeeey!”

  Her nails hook into my back, struggling to find a grip. The sharp little crescents drive me crazy, but not as crazy as the rippling of her inner muscles. They’ve started pulsing, squeezing me so hard I see spots flash in front of my eyes.

  I can’t hold up against that. I hit my peak right after Izzy does, jerking hard as all that fullness bursts out of me. I bury my face in her shoulder, flooding her core with each uneven stroke. I can’t stop moving, but I’ve forgotten how to move. My limbs are quivering, and my chest is burning and my cock keeps twitching as I ride out my release—and hers.

  I’m not sure how long it lasts. It can only have been a couple seconds, but I feel like I’m suspended in time. There’s just Izzy wrapped tight around me, and me spilling all I’ve got. When it’s over, I collapse on top of her in a heap. I’m covered in sweat, a little embarrassed by how exhausted I am. I can’t have been fucking Izzy for more than a few minutes, but I’m so done she could stick a fork in me.

  “Jeez,” I mumble, mostly to myself. “I think I might’ve left my body for a moment there.”

  Izzy laughs beneath me, and I grunt as she ripples with a few more aftershocks. “Please don’t,” she says, petting my spine. “I love your body the way it is. With or without your present.”

  “Yeah?” I ask, after a few more gulps of air. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.” Izzy lowers her legs but makes no other move to push me off or wiggle out from under me. She seems content to lie right where she is, with me still inside her. “I thought you were cute the first time I saw you. That hasn’t changed.”

  “M’not cute,” I grumble, a little put out.

  “Of course not. You’re a very fierce and intimidating wolf.” But she can’t hide her giggles, so I sigh and chuckle along with her.

  We relax after that, cuddling close. It’s so quiet I can hear her rare breaths and the slow beat of her heart. I nuzzle her shoulder, inhaling her scent. It smells like home, especially overlaid with mine.

  “Hey, Izzy?”

  “Mm?”

  I swallow a lump in my throat. For some reason, I’m getting all emotional again. In the circle of her arms, I feel completely safe, but also tender and open in a way that leaves me vulnerable. “Thank you. For this. For sticking by me. I would’ve understood if it was too much.”

  Izzy brings a hand up to caress my cheek. “I’m finding out there’s an awful lot I’m willing to do for you, mon chou. But this isn’t a problem. I think it’s beautiful. I had a sense about you on our first date.”

  “Really?” I s
igh. “Wish you would’ve told me.”

  “You needed to be ready. Now you are, and I’m proud of you.”

  I kiss her. Her mouth is warm and welcoming, and her tongue tastes as sweet as ever. When I break away, I say, “So, we can do this again? With my cock? Not all the time. Just sometimes.”

  “Whenever you want to. And maybe sometimes when I want to.”

  “And…” My heart starts beating faster. “Could you try calling me ‘they’ sometimes? I just wanna try it out. See how it feels.”

  “Of course. Just tell me what pronouns you want me to use that day, and I will.”

  I smile. “Izzy, I…” I swallow down the words I’m close to saying and go with, “I’m so lucky to have you. You’re amazing.”

  She just laughs and says, “I know. So are you.”

  That’s when my phone flashes from somewhere beside the bed. I squint over and see it sticking out of my pants pocket, flashing with a text. Without getting up to look, I can guess who it’s from. Li Min probably wants to know how my date went and whether I talked to Izzy or not.

  I sigh and settle back on top of her. I’ll fill them in later. Right now, I just wanna live in the moment and think about how lucky I am.

  Chapter Six - Isabeau

  MY ARMS ACHE AS I struggle against the cuffs around my wrists, burying my face in the sheets to muffle my screams. Riley is behind me, shoving my head into the mattress with one hand, plunging in and out of me with the other. Their rapid strokes rock my entire body forward, but I roll my hips back for more after each one. I want Riley to take me harder-faster-deeper, until I can’t stand it anymore.

  The strain in my shoulders has become a scream. It didn’t hurt when Riley first wrenched my elbows behind my back to bind my forearms, but now my joints are burning. It would be all I could think about if Riley wasn’t driving into me at such a relentless pace. Their fingers hit my front wall every time they plunge inside, and I can’t swallow down my yelps. “Riley,” I slur into the covers. They’re pounding me so hard I’m drooling, and not only from my mouth.

  Riley makes good use of my slickness. They slam all the way in and curl their fingers, applying enough pressure to make me sob. “That’s right,” they mutter, their voice a low, guttural growl. “You want it rough, huh?” Their hand leaves my hair, but I barely have time to recover before it cracks across my backside, leaving a stinging handprint behind. The sensation morphs into a tingle, then melts into throbbing heat that spreads throughout my core.

  I turn my head sideways and try to speak, but all that comes out in a long, needy whine. Riley seems pleased with the sound, because they stop curling their fingers and pick up their rhythm again, using their thigh to add extra force. “You’re close. I can feel you clenching.”

  It’s true. I’m not just clenching Riley’s fingers, but rippling greedily around them. They’ve got me riding the razor’s edge of release. It will barely take anything at all to push me over.

  Riley leans over my back, pressing their breasts into my shoulders. Their hot breath skims the nape of my neck as they rumble possessive words into my prickling flesh. “Tell me who owns you, baby. Tell me who you belong to.”

  I freeze.

  My throat closes up. I can’t breathe—and for once, it feels like I need to. My slow-beating heart pumps frantically, and a chill runs through me, making me forget all about the warmth bleeding from Riley’s body into mine. Riley’s words echo in my head, growing higher and sharper, laced with a familiar edge of derision—Tell me who owns you, baby. I try to drown it out with my own voice, but nothing will come out of my stupid mouth. No make it stop, no make it stop, no make it st—

  “Stop!”

  Riley stops. They keep their fingers in me but lift their body off mine to give me more freedom. “What’s wrong? Do you need out of the cuffs? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  I don’t know how to answer. Riley hasn’t hurt me hurt me, but I’m still shivering with sick, clammy fear. Cold sweat beads on my skin as I struggle against the cuffs, trying to get loose. Can’t stay like this. Need to move. All I want to do is free myself so I can dive under the covers.

  I’m strong enough to rip through the Velcro padded cuffs, or even the steel links between them, but I don’t need to. Riley pulls out and unfastens them for me. I feel worry and hesitancy in their touch. Their fingers are light as bird feathers, and just as delicate and uncertain.

  Once my arms are free, I calm down. I roll onto my side and draw my knees up to my chest, ignoring the sticky wetness clinging to my thighs. What was that? What happened to me? My thoughts sound small and distant in my own head. Did I just…have a panic attack or something?

  “Izzy?” Riley sounds heartbroken as they lie down behind me, settling into a spooning position without actually touching me. “I’m gonna touch your back now, okay?” They wait, giving me a chance to say no. I don’t say anything at all. Riley’s warm palm presses between my shoulder blades, and it’s enough to loosen the knot in my chest.

  “Sorry,” I croak, confused tears running down my cheeks. “I don’t know…I’m not sure what…”

  Riley wraps their arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “Hey, sunshine. It’s okay. You don’t have a damn thing to be sorry for, you hear? I’ll just hold you ‘til you feel better.” Their sweet words make me cry harder. I shake in Riley’s arms, letting them hold me while I sob it out. My mind is a jumble of anxiety and confusion, but having their body pressed into mine helps. I clutch their hand, squeezing their fingers until I stop quaking.

  When my breathing evens out, Riley kisses the back of my shoulder. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” My throat still hurts, but otherwise, I feel utterly numb and exhausted. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was about to float away into the air.

  “Anything I can get you? Somethin’ to drink? Heating pad? A fluffy blanket?”

  “Thank you.” It’s all I can think of to say. Riley’s kindness hurts, but almost in a good way. It’s not something I’m used to getting from people, except on really bad days when I can’t hide behind a smile.

  “Nothing to thank me for.” Riley pauses, seeming uncertain, perhaps even guilty. “Do you wanna talk about it? You don’t have to.”

  I flip onto my other side so Riley and I can look at each other. “It wasn’t your fault. It’s just…you remember my ex?”

  I don’t have to explain further. Riley gets it—that Natasha used to say the same thing. I can tell from the look in their eyes—all guilt. “I’m sorry,” they say, and my heart breaks a little more.

  “Don’t be. How could you know?”

  Riley’s face scrunches up, but they can’t come up with an answer. They hold me for a while, calming me with their warm breath and the steady beat of their heart.

  Eventually, I say, “Thanks.”

  The word sounds loud in the silence. Riley’s brow furrows. “What for?”

  “For being you.”

  Riley cracks a small smile. “For showing my girl some basic human kindness?”

  It’s supposed to be a joke, but I don’t laugh. I nod yes. A shadow crosses Riley’s face as it clicks for them. I wasn’t always shown that kindness. I didn’t always think I was good enough for it.

  “Baby…”

  “We don’t have to talk about it,” I murmur, then correct it to, “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

  Riley seems okay with that. “What should I do?”

  That simple question reassures me that I made the right choice in picking Riley. I can tell they’re worried and hurt, but they’re putting my needs first. Like a lover is supposed to.

  “Just hold me. That’s all I need.”

  Riley wraps their arms tighter around me. We lie like that for a long time, and the silence isn’t uncomfortable.

  ***

  I pull my cardigan tighter around my shoulders as I walk through the frozen section at the local Whole Foods. I usually head for Stop & Go, since it’s closer to
my apartment, but their selection is less than ideal. I’ve been craving goat blood rather than the usual cow or pig (or werewolf) lately, and the smaller grocery stores always seem to be out of stock.

  It seems today’s my lucky day. At the end of the aisle, near a rather pretentious sign, I spot a five-gallon jug of the stuff: the very last one. I push my cart over, but stop short when another cart turns the corner, converging on the same spot. The woman behind the cart looks at me, offering a tight smile.

  Shit!

  “Natasha.”

  “Isabeau. How are you?”

  I try not to stare too hard, but I can’t help it. I haven’t seen Natasha in years, but she still looks the same, aside from a more modern hairstyle. Tall, thin, blue eyes. A dancer’s body. Despite her slenderness, she has an aura of power around her, an invisible projection of strength that’s difficult to describe. Maybe it’s the way she moves, confident and graceful, like she knows exactly where she’s going and how to get there. Years ago, I wanted nothing more than to be with her, be like her. Now…

  I eventually manage a forced, “Fine. How long have you been back in the city?”

  “Oh, only a year,” Natasha says, in her usual breezy way. “It’s hard to keep track, you know.”

  I do know. I know because I took the gift of immortality under the assumption that we’d spend our eternal lives together. Despite what most people with average human lifespans think, there are some serious downsides to the Choice. That’s why the government makes you fill out so many forms before they let you do it—and why so many people do the bite illegally and pay the fine afterward. With eternal life, even the poor ones have plenty of time to pay it off if they aren’t screwed on interest rates.

  “I got tired of being on tour,” Natasha says, “so I accepted a position here. I needed something more permanent.”

  It takes everything I have to not roll my eyes. Natasha definitely doesn’t do permanent. Never has.