Terrible Name
Great Book
Five stories of paranormal love between unlikely partners.
This is your third peep at the stories in this unique anthology. We've had a ghost, a vampire, now a werewolf who knows what might be next.
The first post that gives you a taste of "That's Where He Died" can be found Here The Second, Dance With Me is here
Lone Wolf
I close my eyes and let
them fill with cornflower blue. Letting my hands run over my chest, I imagine
they are his. I have both nipples pierced, my one real rebellion against my
parents, and my status. No one knows about them, of course, but it’s all the
sweeter for it.
Letting out my breath in
a long sigh I hook my fingers into the rings and pull. Ahh, the sweet pain. My
back arches, and my breath hisses from my lips. I groan and squirm as my cock
starts to throb in earnest. I may not yet be a man in the eyes of the pack, but
have a man’s needs, a man’s desires.
Among our kind, the
females become fertile on every full moon, and, unless they are mated and
marked, they are secluded, away from the men, who prowl and posture and fight
over the unattached girls who, if they wish, can accept any offer – for one
night or a lifetime – hold themselves out as the prize in the fighting.
When the men scent the
hormones released by the females at this time, they become insatiably horny.
They seclude themselves for hours at a time, pleasuring themselves. That has
never happened to me and I thought it never would, but this sure feels the way
they described. Even though it isn’t near the full moon I find myself growing
desperate a dozen times a day and have to run away from whatever I’m doing, or
else be driven insane, waiting until I can.
I feel hot, my whole body
prickling. Shucking out of my shirt feels good, but not good enough. Breathing
hard, I continue twisting my nipple ring with one hand as I let the other roam
down over my belly, to slip under the belt of my jeans. Oh hell that feels
good. A little lower and a little more and a little more, and-- “Ah.” My yelp
is very wolfish, and very obvious. There are sounds wolves make only during sex
and, try as I might, I can’t suppress them, even when the only sex I’m having
is with myself… which is always. Just as well my room’s away from the more
populated areas of the great hall.
Biting down hard on the
whimpers, I twist my body so I can get my hand further into my jeans and slide
my fingers down the length of my cock, and back to squeeze the head and run my
nails over the sensitive skin, deliberately catching them in the slit. It’s
another delicious pain. I only wish I could bend like a true wolf and take it
between my teeth. Thinking of it, I let my claws slide out and pierce the skin.
Dance With Me
That's Where He Died
The Curse
Son of Angels
More snippets to come, with a full story at the end. Keep tuned
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