Feral Magnetism

Feral Magnetism
Lacey Savage

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2006 Lacey Savage
No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Changeling Press LLC.
ISBN (10) 1-59596-409-6
ISBN (13) 978-1-59596-409-0
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Publisher:
Changeling Press LLC
PO Box 1561
Shepherdstown, WV 25443-1561
www.ChangelingPress.com
Editor: Maryam Salim
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

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Chapter One

For the first time in three years, J.C. didn’t feel like participating in Fuck Friday, his long-standing weekly guys’ night out. “Can’t we just… talk?”

Brad Hennessy smirked, showing two perfect dimples through the hint of scruffy five o’clock shadow dusting his cheeks. He was naked except for the pair of black socks he’d left on when he’d hastily discarded his clothing in a pile by the entrance to the small shed. Bright neon light from various amusement rides washed through the narrow window and played over the muscular planes of his chest. “Yeah, right. The day J.C. Hill only wants to talk is the day I turn over ownership of the Hard Delights Amusement Park to one of the janitors.”

“Then I suggest you start drawing up papers.” J.C. shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and turned to look out the narrow window. He was tired and irritable, and he wanted to be left alone.

Outside the mechanical shed of the “Blow Me Away” roller-coaster ride, the night’s celebration was in full-force. Tonight’s central entertainment, the explosive animated fireworks that Griffin Taylor had promised, was scheduled to go off in just a few minutes, though neither he nor Brad had wanted to remain outside to watch.

Brad’s footsteps creaked on the wooden floor, but J.C. didn’t turn around. He wasn’t in the mood to fuck, though he’d come here tonight intending to do just that.

“Are you sure you won’t reconsider?” Unmistakable desire filled Brad’s low, throaty voice. His warm breath caressed J.C.’s skin, sending a swirl of heat to his groin.

Since arriving an hour ago, J.C. had been surrounded by sex. Men of all ages came to Hard Delights to indulge in some adult fun away from judgmental prying eyes, and J.C. knew better than anyone how accommodating the park could be for any kind of kinky treat a man desired. And no one was better at showing a guy a good time than Brad, sole proprietor of the amusement park and self-proclaimed confirmed bachelor. At a time when the elders of the Zante pack were forcing every unattached male to find a mate -- a
female
mate -- J.C. found Brad’s aversion to settling down refreshing and completely understandable.

“I have twenty-nine days,” J.C. whispered, trying to ignore Brad’s thick erection pressing against his back. “Twenty-nine days to choose one of the pack females to become Zante’s next Queen.”

“So that’s what’s bothering you? The elders have given us ultimatums before.”

J.C. ran a hand through his hair. “Not like this. Ever since… the accident, they’ve been relentless.” He still couldn’t utter his father’s and older brother’s names without his voice breaking. “If I don’t take part in a proper mating ceremony by the next full moon, they’re likely to hand the entire pack over to the Kölen Alpha.”

Brad slid his hands over J.C.’s hips to palm his cock through the confining material of his jeans. Despite the anxiety burning in his chest, J.C.’s dick stirred and hardened under his friend’s expert touch. “They wouldn’t do that.”

“Maybe not,” J.C. agreed. “But I’d just as soon not find out.”

The Zanteans had been struggling to remain united for almost two decades. Offspring were increasingly rare in unions between mated pack members, and there hadn’t been a male pup born in almost twelve years. Morale was at an all time low. Lately, pack members had been abandoning their heritage and choosing to align themselves with the Kölens instead -- a rival pack that made no secret of the fact they were stronger, more loyal to one another, and could continue to produce young.

“Then why not just choose a mate and get it over with?” Brad suggested, rubbing the heel of his palm up and down J.C.’s shaft. “There are plenty of females who’d do anything to be your mate.”

J.C.’s chuckle held no humor. “Right. Because becoming Queen of a broken, dispirited pack is such an honor.”

Brad moved with feral grace to stand in front of J.C. The smirk was gone. He quirked a single blond eyebrow upward, and J.C. found himself instantly on the defensive. “The Zanteans are a good pack.”

“I didn’t mean to imply we weren’t. What’s left of us are, at any rate. But we can’t go on like this. My brother should have been the pack’s alpha, not me. He’d prepared for the role his entire life. And my father still had decades before he had to step down. Either one of them would have done a better job leading the pack through these difficult times.” His voice turned bitter. “I can’t even choose a mate.”

“Your brother and father were royalty, and so are you.” Brad kneeled, pulling down J.C.’s zipper as he dropped to the floor. “But if you want a mate, you’re in the wrong place. You won’t find one here.”

“Good.” J.C. pushed his jeans and silk boxers over his hips, freeing his cock. He shifted his hips, thrusting his rod forward to nudge Brad’s lips. “Because I don’t want a mate. All the pack’s females are either already mated, or interested only in the idea of being Queen. I want a lover who’ll accept me as I am, flaws and all. Such a female doesn’t exist.”

Brad didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. His mouth spoke volumes without uttering a word.

J.C. grabbed fistfuls of Brad’s hair as his friend’s lips wrapped around his cock, his wet, hot mouth wringing a moan from J.C.’s throat.

“Why can’t I find a woman like you?” J.C. asked, only half-joking. “Fuck Fridays saved my life when we first started our weekly ritual.”

Brad released J.C.’s cock with a loud pop. His full lips shone with saliva and pre-cum as he glanced up. “The feeling’s mutual. I still can’t look at another man’s cock without seeing yours.” He ran the tip of his finger over the drop of pre-cum oozing from the tip of J.C.’s rod. “So thick. So long. So utterly mouthwatering.”

As if to demonstrate, he welcomed the entire length of J.C.’s cock back inside his mouth, his palms cupping J.C.’s balls and gently squeezing. Brad then moved slowly, placing open-mouthed kisses on the tip of J.C.’s cock before taking the full length between his lips, his tongue caressing the underside of the shaft with small, sensual twirls.

Blood roared in J.C.’s temples and he ground his teeth to keep from moaning again. Tonight, he could forget about the pressing need to find a mate, about the welfare of the pack now weighing on his shoulders alone. He could forget about everything but Brad’s impossibly hot mouth and his firm, waiting ass.

J.C.’s cock thickened and tensed, his balls tightening with the onslaught of oncoming orgasm. He wasn’t ready to face his responsibilities yet. He needed more, craved more, as if fucking Brad could quiet all the unease stirring in his thoughts and block out the self-recrimination he knew waited to pounce.

“Stand up,” J.C. ordered, fisting his hands in Brad’s hair and tugging him to his feet. Brad didn’t protest. He rose and wrapped his arms around J.C.’s waist, brushing his lips against his mouth. He tasted sweet and familiar, wholly comforting.

When they broke apart, J.C. pushed Brad down over a wooden table and spread his legs with his knee from behind. “Don’t move.”

Brad’s throaty laugh filled the small room. “I wouldn’t dare.”

Anticipation pounded in J.C.’s cock, tightening his balls. He crossed the distance to the shelf lining the back wall and picked up the bottle of lubricant he’d left there last week. The smooth skin of Brad’s ass enticed him as he made his way back. Squeezing a dollop of lube, he parted Brad’s ass cheeks with his fingers. He smeared the slick liquid inside his lover’s tight crevice, prodding Brad’s anus with his fingertips.

Brad moaned, the sound rumbling from deep inside his chest. “Oh, yeah. Give me your cock. Ride me. Hard!”

J.C. rubbed some of the leftover lube over his cock, stroking his shaft once before positioning the tip against the slick entrance to Brad’s ass. “Grip the table. I’m not going to be gentle tonight.”

“I’m a big boy,” Brad said, wiggling his ass. “I can take it.”

They’d done this a hundred times before, but tonight J.C. couldn’t take it slow and wait for Brad to adjust to the thick intrusion inside his anus. He thrust once, hard, until his entire shaft was buried to the hilt inside his friend’s tight passage. Brad cried out, his scream rending the still air inside the shed and making J.C.’s cock twitch. He waited for only a moment until Brad nudged him on, his groans signaling he was okay.

That was all the encouragement J.C. needed. He thrust in and out with quick, fevered motions, as if his life depended on this fuck. In a way, it did. Brad was the only one who understood him, who really knew how much pressure he was under. In him, J.C. could be completely comfortable, entirely himself. Brad accepted him, took him, welcomed all of him.

Their moans mingled in the quiet room. Outside, the fireworks exploded, sending glittering sparkles over the night sky. From his vantage point, J.C. could see part of what the fireworks depicted, and the images playing over the midnight velvet weren’t very different than those he and Brad were painting inside the shed.

A beam of moonlight slid through the window, clear of any cloud cover. It played over J.C.’s face for only a moment before he felt the shift take him. He swore low under his breath. He’d known there was a full moon tonight, but the local weather newscaster had predicted cloud cover and J.C. hadn’t thought to take any precautions.

His fingers lengthened, hair sprouting from his knuckles. He watched as his claws dug into Brad’s skin, felt his cock expand to fill his friend’s ass to capacity. Brad’s screams turned frenzied but he kept pushing himself back onto J.C.’s cock until they were both panting. Sweat dripped off Brad’s shoulders, its spicy scent mingling with the odor of their combined arousal. The tip of J.C.’s rod slid smoothly in and out of the tight ring surrounding Brad’s anus, his rough strokes threatening to send them both over the edge.

The thin silvery beam of moonlight played over the wooden table but narrowly avoided touching Brad’s flesh. He remained in his human form while J.C.’s nose and mouth lengthened into a muzzle and fur sprouted from his chest. J.C. groaned, closed his eyes, never stilling his thrusts. Brad’s ass tightened around him, milking him in hot, warm silk.

The door slammed.

J.C. turned, his eyes snapping open in a haze of lust. He hovered on the edge of orgasm, the rush of release flooding his cock, pounding in his balls. He saw the woman standing by the door and he grinned, unable to make sense of why she was there, unable even to judge whether she was real or whether his overheated imagination had conjured her out of thin air.

Her brilliant blue eyes widened with shock and fear. Her pretty mouth gaped open as she stared at the scene unfolding before her. She wore a red sundress with a broad black bow wrapped around the middle, like an offering or a gift waiting to be unwrapped. Wavy blonde hair hung around her shoulders looking tousled, as if she’d been running her fingers through it all night.

J.C. couldn’t help himself. If she wasn’t a figment of his imagination, she’d certainly stepped into the wrong fairy tale.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Little Red Riding Hood,” J.C. said, pounding hard against Brad’s puckered hole. His thighs shook with the effort of holding back his cum. Brad’s moans almost drowned out his words. “This isn’t grandma’s house, babe. And here, the Big Bad Wolf will definitely eat you.”

The woman’s mouth worked as though she’d either reply or scream, revealing perfect white teeth. She did neither as her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

She fell at J.C.’s feet just as his orgasm burst forth, his seed coating the inside of Brad’s ass in slick cream.

Brad’s own release wasn’t far behind. He spasmed rhythmically, cum squirting freely from his cock, coating the table and dripping on the floor. The heady aroma of semen teased J.C.’s nostrils. His fangs embedded themselves in his lower lip as the last of his own cum dripped from his rod.

With a sigh, J.C. at last forced himself to withdraw his spent, softening shaft from the taut constraints of Brad’s slick channel.

“Who is she?” Brad gasped when his cock finally stopped twitching.

“Dunno.” J.C. bent to check the woman’s pulse. It beat steady and strong beneath his fingertips and her chest rose and fell with the rhythm of her breath. Cum dripped off the hem of her red dress.

He groaned. “She’s not gonna be happy when she wakes up.”