Rannulf
Thank the moon and the stars! From the moment the little witch punched me, I began to throb unbearably. Gods, will I ever get enough of this woman? Given our combined natural physiology, probably not. And frankly, I don’t want to get enough. It feels damned good to want a woman this way, and to have her want me back—nothing can beat it. I want to need this woman morning, noon and night, with a midnight snack thrown in just to tide me over.
I should stop the car. I need to stop the fucking car and get these jeans off, or at least open enough to slide back home, but between
Kamra’s
insistent tugging and the helpful assist of me lifting my ass off the seat while trying to look around her to see the road, she manages to free my dick nicely. Well, maybe not so nicely. There’s a series of grunts and jerking motions all while our mouths fuse. And I can’t see the fucking road. Shit. But my mate has tangled her fingers in my hair, crushing her mouth down on mine before thrusting her tongue inside. Fuck. Yes. Better yet, as soon as my cock is free, she sinks down, the walls of that still ultra-tight cunt closing around me instantly. Once again, those inner wall ridges are massaging the shit out of me with those saturated spasms. I almost forget to move with her. The way her hips swivel, taking me deeper just by rolling on my lap, is too sublime to interrupt. For just a moment I simply hold her ass with one hand, squeezing the firm flesh as I enjoy her ride while trying to keep the wheel steady with the other.
“Drive,”
Kamra
growls, tearing her lips from mine before leaning in and biting my ear. Not nipping, not a playful tug, She bites down like she’s hungry and I’m delicious. She bites me like a wolf.
“Oh, yeah, baby girl, that’s the way I like it,” I moan loudly. Not exactly an Alpha action but I don’t give a shit. I can’t seem to form many coherent words.
The front seat is cramped as
hell and
more than a little uncomfortable, but nothing on earth can feel as good as the sleek, hungry pussy gliding on me now. I may not be able to see the road all that well, but I let my foot fall heavier on the gas at the same moment I thrust up, seeking deeper contact. We’re probably going to crash. Whatever the hell is in front of the car can’t be half as important as driving as hard as I can inside her.
“Let go of the wheel,” my vixen moans sweetly in my ear. “The car is steering itself.”
Mating a witch does have its privileges.
I’d reluctantly let go of a glorious globe of ass when my little witch demanded I drive. Now I was free to grasp her properly, forcing her down harder while I stab up as much as I can. What I wouldn’t give for a bed! Or at least a nice carpeted floor. I crave to feast on every inch of her. I’m buried balls deep inside her and it’s still not enough. I’m panting like a—
Fuck, I’m panting like a dog.
Just because the analogy annoys me, I push the thought aside. I open my mouth to engulf as much of a bouncing breast as I can fit into it. I mean to bite it, because I can, but the second my lips close around her soft, yielding flesh, I’m enraptured all over again. Not even considering the underlying dominance dance we’re currently engaged in, my tongue circles the harden nub of her nipple over and over. I suck like a newborn expecting milk. My cubs will suckle here. For some reason the thought makes my cock pulsate, causing me to thrust up faster, harder.
Sweet fuck, I’m not going to last long. She’s just too fucking tight, so wet, so
godsdamned
responsive to everything I do. Plus, the way she’s moving—by the moon, this is heaven wrapped in hell. I don’t want to, but my balls are drawn up so tight I know I’m going to explode at any moment. I ache to fill her; I’m dying to fill her.
Unable to think of anything else, I reach between our tightly pressed bodies, which is no small feat. My brain’s urging me to get her off so I too can come, but my body doesn’t want to allow anything to come between us, not even myself. A total
mindfuck
this is.
Kamra
seems to sense my dilemma because she eases back against the steering wheel. It deprives me of my breast, which I’m not at all happy about, but I finally have access to her clit.
“Later, I’m going to lick and suck every part of you while Rollo fucks you,” I vow. It was going to drive her out of her mind. I want that for her; to experience the bliss of her mates dedicated solely to her pleasure. I want her to experience supreme ecstasy; the kind that makes her babble, cry, scratch and plead.
Ruthlessly I pinch her clit hard, reveling in the way her pussy jumps all around me before clamping down like a velvet vise. Yeah, that’s it. Just a little bit more.
“Then I’m going to join him,” I continue. “You’re going to be stuffed to the brim with two wolves, baby. From the front and the back. We’re both going to sink our canines—”
HOLY SHIT!
One quick jerk of her body is the only warning I receive before her pussy locks down on my dick tighter than it ever has. She’s holding my cock completely captive while her vaginal walls milk every drop of cum I have. I can’t think. Hell, I can barely
breathe
. Held totally captive, I just sit there, helpless until the spasms gradually subside.
“
Ummmm
, that was good.” I watch in awe as
Kamra
stretches her naked body like a cat, smiling in that secretive way women have.
I still can’t move. Still can’t speak. There is something definitively feline about the way she’s purring in the afterglow. Funny I never cared for cats before—now I certainly see their appeal. What is this little witch doing to me?
“By the way,” she fairly hums as she slides off my lap. I immediately want her back. I almost reach out to force the issue before her next words stop me. “I cast a spell for the car to take us wherever you intended to go. The car has stopped.”
Shit, I hadn’t even noticed.
Kamra
I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. Hadn’t he said something about a cabin? I could’ve sworn he said he was taking me to a cabin. All this time I’ve been picturing a quaint little log cabin, probably not the cleanest if it holds his entire den. This thing before me is made of logs all right. Maybe ones from redwoods. This is more like a log mansion.
I’m losing my mind. Here I am, stark naked, sitting in the passenger seat of a car, my pussy delightfully sore, cum leaking between my legs, and I’m obsessing over the size of the house in front of me? I hear him zipping up his jeans then climbing out of the car, but I don’t move. I can’t. I know getting out of the car will seal my fate—not that it’s not already sealed. I did that when I ran. Never, ever run from a wolf. It’s Basic Survival 101. Now, the totality of my situation is crashing down on me. I’m a wolf’s mate. No, I am the single female mate of four fucking wolves. And not the kind I am used to either. They aren’t stupid and gullible. But then, neither are they cruel and heartless. At least,
Rann
hasn’t been.
What the hell have I done?
I guess Mr. Alpha feels my reluctance because he opens my door and lifts me out of the car, still naked, and carries me toward the mansion-sized cabin. Maybe I should ask for his shirt back. I don’t though. For some crazy reason I close my eyes. I’m not ready to see myself made prisoner just yet. Luckily
Rann
doesn’t comment on my silence or my closed eyes. This one is way too observant. I barely know him, and he’s managed to get me at least partially figured out. I don’t like that at all. It makes me vulnerable. I hate being vulnerable.
Oh, sweet mother goddess, I’m married to a wolf I barely know. I’m going to faint. I never faint, but I’m about to pass the fuck out right now. And he’s calmly carrying me up the stairs as if nothing at all is amiss. I’m fucking amiss, damn it.
“You can open your eyes now, little witch.” I’m really not appreciating the humor in his voice.
However, I’m
seriously
not ready for the absolute opulence of the mammoth bathroom I am standing in. Being held in. Whatever. The point is the room is absolutely huge. It’s about half the size of the house I share with my band. The ceiling is completely made of glass, allowing the moonlight to stream through. That and the dozens of candles burning all around the room give it a soft ambience. Soothing. There is a glass shower dominating one corner of the room, big enough for several wolves to take a shower in without touching, complete with upper and lower showerheads at all angles. Sleek and modern, it is a gorgeous thing to behold. On the opposite side of the room is a giant Jacuzzi tub. Again, the thing is large enough for seven regular people, maybe four wolves...and a human. I don’t have to ask if they all share this bathroom. I already know. But what really gets me is the equally large claw-foot garden tub placed right between the two other amenities. I might’ve spent forever gawking at everything else in the bathroom if it weren’t for the fact that particular tub is filled to the brim with luxurious looking bubbles. That alone has my entire body primed for a good, long soak. It’s just that the wolf standing next to the tub has me burrowing deeper into
Rann’s
arms.
“Now, sugar, don’t go getting all scared,” the damnable
Rann
purrs at me. Purrs. Like a cat. It’s a crime against nature how good he sounds too. So I bite him. I swear I try to take a chunk of flesh out that lovely, hard-muscled chest. The fucker merely laughs. “You remember Rollo, don’t you? It’s time for you to get to know your second mate.”
I really believed there’d be more time to get used to the idea of four mates. I mean,
it’s
four freaking men expecting me to pleasure them and whatever the hell else a wolf mate does. Have pups I guess. I mean, there will be four of them! I don’t know why I believed that;
Rann
has certainly never mentioned a timetable. I just didn’t expect it to be this soon. Besides, how did this Rollo dude get here before we did? We left the club way before—
Oh, right. We
did
have a bit of a detour.
“Don’t worry, luv.”
Rann
lightly nips my ear with those
fangy
canines. Yeah, I
melt
a little. “I’ll be with you every stroke of the way.”
Stroke. He said stroke. Come to think of it, Rollo is still sporting the same log he had back at the club. Only there’s a telltale wet spot on his jeans. Geez, he’s leaking
precum
. Good decent witches—or, you know, women in general—would be appalled. Oh, but not this freak I’ve become. My poor, overused cunt begins to flood.
Again.
I’m in so much trouble.