3: Fera - Pack City (9 page)

“Tell me that you wanted to leave that place.”

Oh. He was feeling guilty for sneaking me out?

Well, I didn’t want my lover struggling with guilt when he needed to be attending to me. I told him, ever so quietly, “I wanted to leave that place.”

I exonerated him with those words. He kissed me hard. Like a drowning man whose only redemption is a drink from the deepest well, he slid his tongue into my mouth and sucked fluid in a kiss I felt clear to my toes. I can’t even describe the passion that he put into that. The all-consuming feeling that swamped me, that had me clinging to him, totally weak in the knees. Jack held me up and bent me over backward at the same time, laid me over his knee. How he’d dropped to one knee, I don’t know. I don’t care. I truly swooned in his arms. And I knew that loving him, being made love to by him, would be an experience that I would never forget.

When he came up for air, his lips only rose about a half-inch. I felt his breath on me, heaving as if he’d been running a marathon, and I thanked Gaia that I wasn’t the only one running a race of emotions.

He asked, “What is it?” Again, he searched my features. He released my hair, spread his hands on the back of my head, then took hold again. It felt like a brief massage. Lulled my eyes from the inside out, I think. Under hooded gaze, I watched him.

The man had a reverence about him, like he was somewhere between respectful of me, and considering what was to come. Again, the word savor comes to mind.

His nose slid around me, not touching, just sniffing. Very much the way I’d seen Leer do to Kayty--many a time.

Teasing, the way his breathing warmed my flesh.

Humbly, he asked, “What is it, this thing between us that makes me a madman, an insane wolf that would risk life and limb for it?”

Kinship. I murmured, smiling, “Attraction, maybe?”

That he felt a kinship straight up made my heart flutter, drew me deeper into the snuggling center of his embrace. He pressed me to his breastbone. Hung on tightly. Almost crushed me.

But I held him, too, in that desperate-feeling, thank-Gaia grip, for the space of several minutes, eyes closed, feeling how right it was. I could have fallen asleep like that.

I definitely felt like he’d sucked the energy from my whole being. I went limp, considered letting myself drift into that restful slumber I suddenly craved, sure that I was safe in his arms.

Except between us was something that we couldn’t ignore. Something making itself known to me by pressing into my hip. His cock.

And that had me realizing the slathering fluidity between my thighs. Downright messy.

Let me explain. It isn’t always like that, but sometimes, when you’re really hot, you’re just wet. I was feeling sensitized all over. Probably had something to do with the proximity of his pheromones, mingling with mine. I don’t really know.

Shifting in his arms, suddenly uncomfortable, self-conscious, I forced his hands to move. I don’t know that it was inadvertent when his fingers managed to slip down over my hip, squeeze my ass, then ride up my thigh to cup my crotch.

To slide a finger in.

Again, I’m sure, my eyes rolled up inside my head.

I clawed a little.

And he helped me stand up, which, apparently, is what he thought I wanted. He never let go of me, or I of him. He said, “You’re ready for me.”

I thought, no shit. I wanted to scream,
just fuck me
.

I know he didn’t want to do it standing up, but he didn’t want to lay me in the grass, either. Too much a man. I had a terrible urge to pull out of his arms altogether and turn my back to him again and bend over, on all fours. And simply demand he climb on.

Maybe that’s what caused the embrace to last for extra minutes after I became aware of the throbbing between my legs and the insistent rod pressing against my belly. He was thinking about where to do it, how to make the first time something less--animal. And I was just envisioning it every way I could think of, wondering how to initiate it.

Now, remember, at that time, he had no idea that I had been born a wolf. We were both in crinos. But it was weird, more control than, I think, most crinos werewolves have. Both of us, I mean. We were thinking.

And it’s odd, but at that moment, when I realized I was overanalyzing what was going on between us, that I finally understood what Hood had been trying to tell me--what the difference was between us, him and I, and most of the dogs in the pack. Thinking smart in spite of our instincts, our driving urges. It’s how Jack and I escaped the pack, I know that for damn sure.

I know it’s an odd time to think about genetics, but suddenly, I wondered...was the pure line I descended from really...an unnatural line? I surely felt more human than wolf, in my thinking, at least.

My hand, before me, seemed to be losing hairs as I watched it. Not that I was watching it on purpose, just, my eyes had glazed over and were refocusing...on a very human hand.

Chapter Eight

“Shit.” Jack pulled away from me. “We need to go somewhere.”

I shook my head, stepped back and lay down on the grass, pulling him down beside me. “We need to do this first. I can’t think. The pheromones are fogging my brain.”

Really, I had a fear that I would change over, and he wouldn’t like what he saw. At least in crinos, the pheromones between us would help the consummation process, keep up the attraction. Fear of what was to come and what I had just possibly figured out, had me turning to my instincts in blindness, blocking out my thought processes.

He chuckled. “Is that what it is? And here I just thought it was love at first sight.”

I knew he was joking, or thinking it was a joke. Just being clever. But I blinked up at him, drew his hand to my lips and kissed it, then eased my tongue out and sucked his fingers, one by one, into my mouth--watching his face the whole time.

Slowly, he stretched out, shifted to spread himself along the side of my body, where our skin was touching. When I was done with that hand, I let it go, trailed it down my chin, and set it on my breast--which had become very human in the interim. I never looked down.

Jack indulged in cupping. Little tickles, tweaks. Firm hand holds. Brief caresses that promised something to come. Investigating my whole body, every dimple, every bump, lump, and crease.

Eventually, he worked his hand down to my pubis.

That made me arch. I wanted nothing more than to feel his hand tighter there. Or his finger-- or more-- inside me again. But he kissed me instead, keeping up the same steady pressure with his hand. Just enough to make me buck for fulfillment.

Before long, he was half over me, sliding his tongue inside my mouth, and his cock dripped against the flesh of my upper thigh. I couldn’t stand it any more, I reached for his manhood, literally pulled it-- and him-- until he lay atop me, ready to go in.

Ripping my lips free, I said, “For Gaia’s sake, fuck me. I’ve waited a lifetime for this.”

Jack grabbed a hold of my chin, made me look him in the eye. And, as you know, that wasn’t something I’d done a lot of before. “Fera--”

His face seemed so beautiful to me, but definitely, his eyes had me sucked into their depths.

I love the expressions he gets. So serious in his eyes, but his lips always twitch, always ready to smirk.

“What?” I spread my legs, pulled up my knees and put my hands on his hips. I figured, if he was gonna take his time about it, I might just have to help him.

Too sincere, too serious, he said, “You drive me wild.”

That made me laugh. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He shook his head though, and said, “You don’t get it, do you?”

“What?” Yeah, I was having trouble concentrating.

“The waiting, the wanting--it’s the best part. That’s why I--” Why he didn’t take me back at Pack City. Why he’d run all over hell with me. He’d been enjoying the anticipation.

My night’s hell. I’d had enough of anticipation for one lifetime, or so I thought.

“Bet me.” I pulled him up inside of me. One firm grip and yank.

And, to be honest, I had a moment of such intense pain that my vision blacked out. My whole body went rigid.

He groaned, “Sorry. Oh, shit.” And despite the fact that I was somewhere in la-la land, my head rolled back, eyes up in my head, there was no stopping him. Long, deep strokes. I felt him all the way up to my throat, from the inside. Well, practically.

It didn’t take too many strokes like that to bring me around.

“It’s my first time like this,” he said, as he got near the edge.

All I could do was ride the ride, go with the flow. Hang on for dear life.

Claw into his biceps.

He never noticed. And he didn’t seem to mind afterwards, either. I left marks on him.

Jack didn’t have to work too hard to reach my spot. I don’t know if it’s the way he’s built, or how hot I get when I’m near him, but I didn’t have any problems finding that orgasm. He rode me right to it.

I hit it before he did, and that just sent him over the top, I guess. But I was definitely pulling him up into me deeper, had my hands on his ass, helping.

He came in shivering thrusts. His whole body was into it. I felt his toes, his feet stiffening. And he said into my ear, “God, you’re everything I ever dreamed of.”

So, okay, that made me laugh.

“Oh. Oh. Oh.”

I guess my shaking from the laughter was causing extra convulsions around his cock, almost painful in their tickling strangles.

“Stop,” he begged.

And that made me laugh more.

But that didn’t last long. It just pumped all the jism from his body. His head started to swell, a noticeably filling sensation, even after the fullness of him just being inside, and I panicked, started pushing, screaming for him to get out. I don’t know how he managed to do it, but a second later he was on his knees, a few feet from me, a little panicked himself.

My legs were still spread-eagled around him. I propped myself up on my elbows to look at him as he asked, “Did I hurt you somehow?”

When he asked that, I didn’t answer. The phenomenon of a swelling cock is worth watching. I’m sure my eyes were as wide as they could get, and narrowed in on that.

His gaze followed mine. His dripping cock had gone ahead and swollen up, still pulsing with fluids, semen.

He seemed a little concerned. Squeezed along the length of his shaft, kind’ve pushing the liquid out the end. Wincing, holding it tight, closing his eyes for a few minutes.

There, with the light of that full moon on him, hanging on, he looked like a sculpture. A great, wolfish sculpture of a man. I knew I’d found my destiny. Good or bad, this was the soulmate for me, a werewolf who struggled with who he was, what he’d become, and how to express himself.

At least, when he eventually told the sky, “Help me, I think I need to go again,” I knew that this was going to work out.

I pounced him and showed him how to fuck crinos. It’s definitely a rabbit deal. I had his hands pinned out, wide, at the sides of his head. I straddled him, lowered myself into position over his shaft, which, by the way, was a serious stretch, one that had me questioning my own sense. I mean, only a minute before, I’d been pushing that mushroomed bastard out of me. Now, I was drawing it in, sliding onto it with slow purpose, telling my new lover, “In a minute, I’m gonna show you what it really is to fuck someone’s brains out.”

Once on, it took me a minute or two to get my breath, shake the double vision from my eyes. Long enough that Jack teased, “Any time. Go ahead, fuck my brains out.”

So, I started riding up and down, slow and easy at first. I told him, “I’m working up to it. Give me a second.”

Inside, I was nothing but nerves, sensitized bits, every single tidbit of me geared toward coming another time. But I realized I couldn’t get that rabbit thing going without his help. I think the position was--just--unnatural to me at that point.

I definitely wanted an orgasm again, quick. I growled, “Pump, dammit. Fucking--fuck me.”

He laughed a little at my ferocity, but got his hips moving. And he demanded, “Let go of my hands.”

I did. A second later, his fingers were on my hips, pushing me onto his shaft in body-stabbing, impaling yanks. It was great. It was fast. It was furious.

I remember his eyes flashing and him asking, “Ya like that?”

And me smiling back, saying, “Yeah. Is that all ya got?”