Christine Warren
Fur Factor
19
Missy gasped in shock, but Graham just rumbled a satisfied purr into her mouth and slid his hands down over her hips to cup the back of her thighs. One after the other, he forced her legs to hitch up and wrap around his waist until he held her up with her arms around his shoulders and his hands beneath her ass and his groin pressed intimately against her.
Behind her closed lids, Missy felt her eyes roll back in her head. She’d never been so aroused in her life. If she’d had a weak heart, she felt sure this would have killed her.
As it was, that overstressed organ raced and stammered with every new sensation he forced on her. His kiss consumed her, and as amazing as he tasted, she felt pretty sure she’d black out from lack of oxygen if he didn’t let her catch her breath soon.
She pushed against his shoulders and turned her head to the side, succeeding only in making his mouth shift from her lips to her throat. He kissed her, lapped her, nibbled at her, drawing the flesh hard against his teeth in a rough love bite. Her head knocked hard against the door, but she barely felt it. Instead, she felt his hands slide from her ass down the backs of her thighs to just above her ankles. He urged her legs higher against him and showed her how he wanted her to hook her ankles together behind his back to ride his hips more securely. Immediately, his hand shot back up her leg, this time traveling along the sensitive inner surface until he cupped her through the soaking crotch of her panties.
Missy hadn’t worn hose, since Ava told her it would clash with the dress. Instead, she’d worn a pair of sheer, silk thigh-highs that clung to her legs like perfume. Ava had also dictated that Missy should wear a lace bra so see-through it barely qualified as lingerie and a pair of matching thong panties. When she dressed for the party, Missy donned the bra, but drew the line at the butt floss. She refused to spend the whole evening fighting the urge to tug the cloth out of there, so she pulled on a pair of her own, white cotton bikinis instead. Now, she wished she’d worn a stainless-steel chastity belt, because the feel of Graham’s hand cupping her through the thin layer of cotton almost killed her. She whimpered and pressed down onto his fingers.
“Graham, please!” she whimpered. She wasn’t sure if she was begging him to touch her or to fuck her, but either response would be fine with her just then. So long as he didn’t think she was begging him to stop, everything would be okay. She got the impression a nuclear assault wouldn’t stop him, so she figured it was safe to be non-specific.
He growled again, the sound even more animalistic than before. Instead of being frightened, Missy gloried in it. This was beyond her realm of experience, but not beyond the realm of her fantasies. The idea of being wanted so badly was at least as arousing as what his hands and mouth were doing to her. She felt trapped in her own fantasy world, felt like an entirely new, brazen creature, one she’d never known before.
She gave into this new side of herself, feeling the freedom and adventure of it arousing her as much as his hard body pressing against hers.
She buried her hands in his thick, dark hair and pressed his face closer against her.
He lifted her higher against the door and lowered his head until he could catch the Christine Warren
Fur Factor
20
neckline of her stretchy dress in his teeth. One sharp tug and the thing disintegrated in his mouth. He turned his head, spat out the pieces, and when he looked back at her breasts, covered only by the sheer bra, his eyes glowed an even brighter green.
“Taste,” he growled, and that was all the warning Missy got before he ripped open her bra and his hot, avid mouth closed over her left nipple.
He sucked greedily, forcing the ruched peak hard against the roof of his mouth and drinking from her as if she were his only source of nourishment. Missy moaned. She felt like he drew her soul out of her through her breast, but all she wanted was for him to suck harder, to take more of her into the wet furnace of his mouth.
He did. He sucked with bruising strength, then pulled back until just the nipple remained inside his mouth. His straight, sharp teeth nipped at her, hard enough to sting, but not hard enough to injure, and he leaned forward again, stretching his jaw wide and sucking at her flesh until almost her entire, petite breast disappeared between his lips. His free hand reached up and closed about her other breast, kneading with rough motions, pulling at her erect nipple with strong, lean fingers.
She felt them tugging at her, making her crazy, and even as they moved, the hand between her legs went to work. He hooked his forefinger in the crotch of her panties and tore, ripping the panel right out from between her legs. Then his fingers were sliding through her slick folds and spreading her abundant moisture all around her swollen lips and soft, aching clit.
His fingers closed around the nub of flesh like it was another nipple, tugging and pinching in a gentle mimicry of his hand on her breast. Missy cried out, her heels digging into the small of his back, her thighs clenching as she tried to lift herself away from his tormenting fingers.
His growl this time held as much menace as passion. His fingers abandoned her clit to tangle in her pubic hair and pull her back down where he wanted her. She moaned and settled back into place, even as her thighs tried to close against further sensory overload. His waist held her knees apart, keeping her spread and available, and he took shameless advantage. He tweaked her nipple again, making her yelp, then his hand shifted and smoothed, and he penetrated her with one, long, unyielding finger.
She cried. Real, honest-to-god tears rolled down her face at the feel of him inside her, even only this much of him. She wanted more, but the neglected tissues of her pussy had a hard enough time dealing with this small invasion. Missy hadn’t had sex in six years, not since college, and then her partner had been nothing like Graham, the experience nothing like this rioting orgy of heat and pleasure and sweat. She wondered now if she would be able to take his cock, considering how much his finger stretched her disused muscles. She felt his finger withdraw and press back a second later, followed quickly by another. Two strong fingers pressed deep, tunneling through her body’s resistance and showing her it was way too late for doubt. If he was going to fuck her to death, she intended to enjoy as much of the experience as she could.
Christine Warren
Fur Factor
21
Using one hand to tug at his tousled hair, she managed to dislodge his mouth from one breast and guide it to the other. He greeted her neglected nipple with a quick nip and a soothing pass of his rough velvet tongue before sucking it deep into his mouth.
Missy felt every draw like a pulse between her legs, and knew Graham could feel it too when he began timing the thrusts of his fingers to the clenching of her inner muscles.
God, he was going to kill her!
Desperate to feel more of him inside her, she slid one hand down between their bodies and into the waistband of his slacks. The soft heat of her palm met his busy fingers and brushed against her clit on the way, making her shudder. Graham groaned, then groaned again when her fingers closed around his erect cock.
Missy echoed him with a murmur of satisfaction, squeezing his thick length and savoring the smooth texture of his skin and the heavy, solid feel of his cock. Her fingers couldn’t quite close around him, because her hands were very small, and Graham was not. He filled her fingers to overflowing, and Missy wanted to know if he’d fill her pussy the same way.
She drew her hand away, and Graham punished her desertion with a sharp nip to her breast and a deep, twisting thrust of his fingers. Missy cried out and bucked her hips against him, but she remained determined. She quickly, if clumsily, unfastened the buttons of his pants and tugged down his zipper, lifting his cock out of its confinement with a sigh of satisfaction. Graham’s entire body stiffened, and he pulled his mouth and hand away from her heated flesh, grasping her hips and shaking her until her eyes met his.
“Now!” he growled, and the urgent command in his voice made her cream. He lifted her hips higher until his cock nestled between her labia, pressing firmly against her entrance.
Missy saw the savage urgency in his eyes and felt a wash of excitement instead of the fear she half-expected. She echoed his exclamation. “Now!” Her shout ended on a scream as Graham’s fingers bit hard into her hips, lifted her briefly above him and then slammed her weight down onto his rampant cock. The thick length tunneled endlessly into her, forcing her muscles to stretch wide to accommodate his girth. Sensations overwhelmed her. She couldn’t decide if they consisted mainly of pleasure or pain. In that moment, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was inside her, thrusting hard and deep until he ground to a halt, the tip of his cock almost nudging her cervix.
“Graham, wait!” she gasped, bracing her hands against his shoulders and fighting hard to regain her breath, her equilibrium, her identity. She felt like her entire self boiled down to the rippling clasp of her cunt wrapping snugly around his cock. “Wait.
Please.”
Though her eyes had closed to slits, she could see his eerily glowing eyes flash in the dim light of the bedroom. “Too late,” he growled, pressing her hard against the door as he began to fuck her.
Christine Warren
Fur Factor
22
In her position, impaled on his thrusting cock, held in place by the tenuous grasp of her watery legs around his waist and the biting grip of his fingers on her hips, she could do nothing else but cling to him and let him fuck her.
He pounded into her hard and fast, and she struggled to decide if she loved it or hated it. She’d thought she knew what sex was, but Graham Winters was showing her she had no clue. With his cock reaching deeper inside her than she had thought possible and his corded muscles bunching and shifting against her, this man—this werewolf—
seemed intent on teaching her that what she’d thought of as sex had as much in common with this urgent, primal act as a werewolf had in common with a Chihuahua.
His hands shifted to her ass and tugged. “More,” he rumbled, his lips drawing back in a snarl. “Take more.”
More?
God, she could barely take what he was already giving her! How could there possibly be more? She shook her head, unable to speak, fighting for each ragged breath she managed to draw into her starving lungs.
“More!” he insisted, and his demand became an order. The hand on her ass tightened and pushed, while the other moved to her stomach and thrust between their heaving bodies. His middle finger hooked in the top of her slit, just above her clit, and pulled. The movement forced her to cant her hips upward, tilting her pelvis and changing the angle of her pussy until she felt him slide impossibly deeper inside her.
Missy sobbed at the feel of another inch of steely cock gliding home. The head butted her cervix, nudged her darkest corners, and now she could feel his pelvis grinding between her legs, feel the impact of his hips against hers that had been missing from his previous thrusts. Finally he had buried his whole length inside her, and he filled her so deeply, she tasted his thrusts in the back of her throat.
“Graham!”
Her cry was a plea, a protest and a demand for more. He answered the last, ignored the others. Pinning her against the door, now hot and slick from their sweaty bodies, he rode her hard, his cock hilting inside her with each thrust, making her muscles ripple and contract on each entrance, collapse and yearn on each withdrawal.
She wanted desperately to thrust back against him, but her position made it impossible. He controlled her every movement, holding her still and open for his powerful thrusts. She felt the constricting band of her tight dress where it settled around her waist, felt the rasp of his dress shirt under her hands and against her breasts. She felt the rough fabric of the pants he still wore low around his hips while he fucked her. She’d never felt anything so savage or so amazingly good.
The tension built inside her until she sobbed for release. He bent his knees for leverage and thrust high and hard inside her, and she sobbed through an endless, pulsing climax. Her cunt clamped tight around his cock, milking him with slick, wet muscles until he slammed her back against the door and roared. Fingers gripping, muscles clenching, he crushed her between the hard door and his hard cock while he emptied his semen inside her in hot, heavy spurts.
Christine Warren
Fur Factor
23
She melted over him, clinging to his waist and his shoulders with the last of her strength. Her breath sawed in and out of her lungs on ragged gasps. Her muscles felt like melted pudding, and they trembled under the least little exertion. If not for the solid door behind her and Graham’s heavy weight in front of her, she would have trickled to the floor and lain there for at least a week.
Graham stirred, and Missy wondered where he got the strength. His hands cupped her ass and held her in place while he crossed the room with three long strides and tumbled her back onto the bed. She landed with a thud in the middle of the silk-covered mattress and grunted when Graham settled his weight on top of her. He heaved a rough sigh and buried his face in the crook of her neck, his tongue lapping the salt from her skin with lazy strokes. She read more sleepy satisfaction than amorous intent in his actions and offered up a breathless prayer of thanks. She had just about enough energy left to close her eyelids, and she’d be out like a light.
Her hands groped along the mattress, looking for a blanket to pull over them, but she found nothing. The only covering on the bed seemed to be the fitted silk sheet. In fact, she couldn’t remember seeing sheets or blankets or even a bedspread pooled on the floor from a restless night’s sleep. Too tired to wonder about it, she contented herself with Graham’s body heat, which seemed more effective than an electric blanket anyway.
Tangling her legs with his, she shifted her hips and felt his half-hard cock still nestled inside her. She mulled it over for a moment, decided she liked the sensation and wrapped her arms around him. Her last thought before she tumbled into unconsciousness was that no woman could possibly need a Fantasy Fix if she got to spend one night of her life with a lusty lycanthrope.