Contains: M/M, Paranormal, Shifter, Alpha, Werewolf, Dominance & Submission
Never let it be said I can’t be a little mercenary! 😀 This brief, lustful bit of wolfish smut was quick to write, and fun, and I hope it’s fun to read as well. It was interesting to try something outside of my wheelhouse!
My teeth remain locked around his neck. Soon, we are flesh against flesh, still lying there in the dirt. The smell of his sweat and odor is frank against my nose, which ruts softly through the abrasive stubble of his five o’clock shadow as I dig my teeth in firmer. He gasps, stops trying to move away.
I lave my tongue against the sharp teeth marks I’ve placed upon neck and he cries out with confusion and earnestness. His stomach is hard, his abdomen tense, as he flattens against me. I feel the stiff press of his nipples sweeping against my damp skin. I feel, more pointedly, the swell of his cock against mine, and the tremor that runs through his body as its sensitive tip strokes a furrow through my dense pubic hair. My own cock hardens in response, but slowly. No need to rush, I’m going to enjoy this.
I wrap my arms around him, sinking my fingernails into the tensing muscles of his back and pulling him downward against me. Moaning, his hips start a confused rhythm, fucking itself between the clenched space of our bodies. Still lost in the confusion of the change, probably barely thinking, it’s up to his unconscious mind to seek the friction his heart so desperately desires. How long have you waited for this? A week? Two weeks? How long have you feared this change? You’re lucky I found you.
I encourage him, lowering a hand to grip beneath his rock-hard ass and guide him into a gradual rut. With each slide of his cock against my slowly rising shaft he cries out a meager moan to the night sky above, his head lurching forward and tickling the soft ends of his short, blonde hair across my nose. My nostrils flare, digging in the potent scent of his arousal. Still, I provide nothing but a space for him to hump against, offering no encouragement with my own hips. He has to prove to me he wants it, that he can take it, and that he’ll accept nothing else. I already know the answers to these questions, of course; I’m merely waiting for his mind to catch up.
“I-I…” He stammers, hips still rolling, cock still butting against mine—even as he comes to his senses, he can’t stop his body from begging. This is what it wants, after all.
His voice is soft and fey, timid, not yet broken by the world. I press my finger against his lips and shush him with soft murmur, the movement of my lips reflexively smearing soft kisses across his firmly coiled neck. Inside my own body, I feel the momentary lurch of his stomach, like an elevator hesitating before free fall.