Raula
I pick up speed and duck into the windbreak, but of course, he has no trouble keeping up. The trees are spaced evenly, elderberry and dogwood, then arborvitae and oak.
My wolf isn't about the chase anymore. She slows down and turns, letting out a series of sharp, bossy yips.
Damien's wolf skitters to a halt, standing still and tall, and then he lowers his head, baring his neck the slightest bit, a sly, unrepentant look in his bright golden eyes.
She pads forward and nips his exposed neck. He rumbles. She licks his fur. He nuzzles her, licking, nipping in return. She squirms, tongue lolling. She likes it. She wants more.
His rumble picks up volume.
She whines and bats him with a paw. He rolls onto his back, cuffing her gently. She slides her flank against his exposed belly, an echo of his purr in her throat.
Oh, dear Fate. They're making out.
She's going to present. I can feel the urge rising. She doesn't care about anything except rubbing her scent on him.
He prods us with his snout until we're on our belly, and he's above us.
Heat flares in our core.
He straddles us. My wolf arches her back and huddles her ribs to the ground. She pushes up on her left hind leg.
Oh, no. This isn't good. I grab for our skin, but she's inhabiting it totally.
Damien's wolf runs his snout down our spine, and then he noses our backside.
He's sniffing us.
I'm going to burst from embarrassment like a squashed tomato.
He nips our back haunch. She wriggles her hips. Her want floods my mind. It's joyful. Fated.
I tug as hard as I can, but she's on another plane. Blissed out and quivering with excitement. She gets real low, raising her hindquarters, whimpering. Damien's wolf purrs his approval, and she eats it up.
He covers us. Something hard brushes my right leg. I'm flailing, banging, screaming inside, and she's oblivious. She wants it so bad; she has for so long. He's hers, and she wants what belongs to her. It's only right.
There is hot breath on the crook of our neck. I whine.
Sharp teeth scrape our fur, and then they sink into our hide, piercing fur and flesh, deep, ripping muscle, clamping down and holding on. She howls. It hurts like hell, but we love it. We go limp. Pliant.
He slowly extricates his fangs, licking the wound gently and methodically with his raspy tongue, soothing the hurt.
I stretch my neck to test the tendon. It works. Everything is still attached. There's no pain.
Something thumps in my chest.
And then there's hot skin on my back.
"Shift, baby." Damien's human voice is gravel.
My wolf whines. He's above us, pushed up on his arms, shielding us.
"Come on, baby. Shift back." He infuses the words with his command. My wolf doesn't have a choice. Our body complies, breaks and remolds itself, and it aches, but not nearly as bad as my wolf's disappointment. She wails inside me.
Damien stokes my bare back. I'm laying on my naked stomach. My neck throbs, and my muscles are limp. Wrung out. He's on top of me, braced on his forearms, nuzzling and lapping at the bite wound. He bit us. Claimed us.
No, he didn't. His wolf did.
I try to buck him off, but I have no strength. All I manage to do is press my bare ass closer to his groin. He groans.
"Baby, hold still."
And the haze from the shift clears some more. I register his weight, his hard cock pressing against my butt cheek. His thick thigh is nestled between my thighs. His knee is firm against my pussy. And I'm wet.
I don't want to be. I'm not my wolf. My brain's all muddled, but I'm pretty sure I don't want to have him yet. My wolf might be more more than ready but I still want my conscience mind to first want this. I want to toss him off, but I'm scared to move. His body is too entwined with mine, and the touch isn't bad. It's—interesting.
His licks slow and then stop. "You're not bleeding anymore. It's okay."
His lips brush the wound. It's pulsing now. Hot. It makes me squirmy inside. Unmoored. The place where the mate bond is pulses. It feels raw.
He continues down my shoulder blade, his lips brushing my skin, his nose skimming lightly down my spine. He's breathing me in.
A tangled web tightens in my belly like a cord was pulled.
I stay very still and screw my eyes shut.
I want this to be over.
And I don't want him to stop.
My wolf is demanding, prowling, angry now. Mate.
Every word he speaks, his lips tease my skin. No one has ever lingered on my back like this. Shivers race down my spine, and my breasts are responding, growing heavy, aching where they're smooshed against the hard ground.
"Let me up."
"You presented." He brushes my hair to the side and kisses the back of my neck, right under my hairline. My knees clench, gripping his thigh tighter. I'm getting his leg wet with my slick.
He pushes up, and in one fluid motion, he sits on his butt, knees bent, a few feet from me.
"I know, but we promised to wait a bit right?" Finally sense is starting to crawl back into my heat mashed head.
He lets out a light chuckle. The sound of it reverberates in my chest down into my groin. I am hopeless aroused.
"Of course, but I can't keep letting down your wolf if she presents again."
I sigh. Our wolves don't understand this bullshit of 'some more time'. It's like they have a mind of their own and they never overthink about what they want. They just go straight for it.
We shift back and run deeper into the woods to get ourselves a kill for the day.