Alpha's Christmas Virgin

by Casey Morgan

  “Oh, Ava,” she says, “I’m so, so proud of you. When you said your play was about werewolves, I didn’t think anything amazing could come from that. I didn’t think you were going to tell a story like this one. One that was so moving and so needful, despite the overused and campy trope.” She kisses me on my cheek again. “But I should’ve known my baby girl better than to do something that’s been done before!” She goes in for another hug, cradling my neck in her hands. “You really rocked the house on that one, Ava! I wouldn’t be surprised if your theater becomes famous after this!”

  She moves away from me, only enough to look at me in my face. As she does, she smiles proudly and indulgently. “You should’ve heard all the people around me talking,” she says. “You should have heard the way they were praising your costumes. Your makeup, your technology, Ava.” She fixates on my eyes. “Contacts?”

  In that moment I’ve forgotten and then remembered that my eyes have changed color, dramatically so, from their usual dull blue. They are now icy blue and glowing. Before I can stutter out an answer, some kind of lie to fit her assumption, Cole comes to the rescue. Wrapping his arm around my waist he says, “Yes, those are contacts. I let him borrow an extra pair of mine for the show, since I heard the other guy who was supposed to play his role was out sick.” Cole says this all easily and charmingly, as if this level of deceit and playing the room is nothing new to him. And I know it isn’t, given how he’s lived.

  Mother zeros in on him. “And you are?” she asks. She pauses, coming by a mischievous smile of her own. “Other than ridiculously gorgeous, I mean,” she adds.

  “Mother!” I’m embarrassed, but Cole doesn’t seem the least bit troubled and neither does she.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you had such a good-looking boyfriend, Ava?” she asks, as if everything she’s saying is completely normal, including very obviously lusting over someone’s physical appearance.

  “You know how shy she is,” Cole offers in a gentlemanly tone.

  She chuckles, patting my cheeks, and giving me another kiss. This one on my nose. “That I do,” she answers. “Still,” she whispers to me, “not one mention to me about this gorgeous hunk?” She pauses, winking at me. “I better hope you dating him is the reason you’ve been so distracted lately.”

  My body bursts into a proverbial flames. “Uhhh…” I’m so hot and bothered, the December air is doing nothing to cool me down.

  “That’s correct, Mrs. Winterborn,” answers Cole. “I hope that means I have permission to continue dating her.” Even without looking at him, I can hear the grin in his voice. It makes my stomach and heart twist with anticipation.

  “You most certainly do,” answers my mother as if I’m not standing with his arm around my waist. “As long as you take good care of her.”

  “Oh, I will,” he says to her, and I can hear the hungry growl in it. It makes my stomach clench, and my pussy shiver.

  “Well, Ava,” mother says, excusing herself back into the dispersing crowd, “I’ll leave you to enjoy whatever after party you have planned. The festivities.” She blows me a kiss. “But I want you and your gorgeously well-mannered Southern boyfriend to stop by my house tomorrow for some dinner.”

  Like the good daughter I am, I tell her we’ll be there, and pray that she leaves us alone now. That she leaves us to our own devices. She does, thankfully, and that’s when Cole pulls me with him into the shadows. He pulls me back around the stage, and towards the back door. And then, behind the theater, into a small patch of woods.

  In seconds flat, both of us shift and are running like the wind. Wolves run faster than human legs could ever run. As we reach the edge of the woods it grows quiet, the revelers for Christmas distant, and Cole guides me in front of him.

  “I’ll take good care of you,” he growls, and my wolf ears understand him, “though probably not in a way your mother would approve of. I found an old cabin in the woods nearby. Follow me there and we will commit ourselves to one another.”

  With that, he guides me deeper into the shadows and the snow, and toward the hunger I’ve been dying to satiate and the thirst I’ve been dying to slake.

  Epilogue

  Cole

  Finally, in a quiet and secluded-enough section of this forest, in an abandoned log cabin, that I hope one day to make our own, I see Ava for who she really is. She is a strong, intelligent woman who knows her own mind. She may like to submit to me in the bedroom, but that doesn’t mean that I need to control her whole life. I see that now and I respect that.

  I take Ava in my arms in front of a roaring fire. I kiss her all over. Around her clothes and underneath them, practically pulling the clothes off her limbs one by one. Her shirt first revealing her red lace bra, followed by her shoes and socks. I’m leaving her jeans and panties on a bit longer.

  Ava doesn’t seem to mind, though. She’s too busy sighing and melting in my hands to notice how much of her clothes she still has on or not.

  I smile, guiding her down to the wooden floor like I’m guiding her into the final dip of our waltz. “It’s time for our words of commitment,” I explain, arching myself over her so I can look into her icy blue eyes. “Werewolf ceremonies are just a few lines. No need for a big crowd, although we can do that later if you want,” I purr, enjoying Ava’s listless look of excitement and love.

  As I speak to her, I undress, watching her blue eyes take in all of my body. I take off my belt, pull down my pants, and slip out of my boxers. I then start to prep her.

  “Just repeat these words after me and then I will vow the same to you,” I tell her.

  I bend down to kiss her pouty lips, letting her feel how hard my cock is by rubbing it on her thigh.

  I pause, taking a moment to position myself in front of her. On top of her. I brush her black curls back from her face and trace a finger around her jawline, taking in all of her features. She is so angelic right now. She looks excited, but also at peace.

  “Repeat after me: Cole, I commit myself to you as your mate. You are my alpha. My pack. My leader and my love. We will run together till the winds are silent and night has fallen on our lives,” I say, watching her.

  She reaches up and tentatively touches my face. I watch the hunger flash into her eyes as she looks at me like the predator she is. She is ridiculously adorable. She takes off her glasses and tosses them away.

  “So, I’ve proven myself worthy of your love and loyalty, hmm?” she whispers. I nod and kiss her. She takes a deep breath and begins the words that will change our lives forever: “Cole, I commit myself to you as your mate. You are my alpha. My pack. My leader and my love. We will run together till the winds are silent and night has fallen on our lives.”

  I love how much it makes me shiver. I melt. She positions herself under me, guiding my hard cock to the entrance of her pussy. I can feel her wetness on the tip of my penis. Ava puts her hands gingerly on my shoulders. With not much more than an inch between us, I feel the softness of her folds. My breath catches in anticipation.

  “I finally won your little wolf heart, have I?” Saying this, she begins to pet and stroke my rock-hard cock between her legs.

  I’m silent for a moment, and then in that silence I feel her beginning to pump me harder. She squeezes my dick with all her might, rubbing her thumbs around the base.

  “Yes,” I answer. “And I must admit the truth: I’m hungry for the feeling of you, Ava. I have been for a long time.” I take a breath and look into her eyes and seal my commitment, my life, to her. “Ava, I commit myself to you as your mate. You are my alpha female. My pack. My advisor and my love. We will run together till the winds are silent and night has fallen on our lives.”

  Ava pauses her stroking. “I’m an advisor now, am I?”

  While I want nothing more than to bury myself to the hilt in her ready pussy, to fuck her like the wild wolf I know she is, I answer. I respect her, and I have no other choice but to listen and answer her commands and questions now.

 
“I’m sorry I wasn’t listening to you before, Ava,” I say. “I see you now in all your glory. You are an intelligent, wise, passionate wolf and woman. The vows we made are ancient. We can interpret them as we see fit. We are a team now and we can make our decisions together. We will direct our lives together.”

  “That sounds perfect,” Ava supplies, smiling.

  I hear lust and hunger at the end of it though. I also feel it, as she presses my cock into her creases. I begin to explore her hole. Her pussy is ready and waiting to be stretched and stimulated.

  “Let’s make a baby,” I say, unable to keep the pant from my voice.

  Ava hums pleasantly. Not just at my voice, but at the little taste of me she has in that moment. The very barest edge of my tip slips into her. Already, even though it’s no more than half an inch, I already love what I feel.

  “Who knows,” she says, “we might have already.” Surprised, I push in her a bit further, and I’m dizzy. I start to see stars from how blissfully sweet the sensation is. How delightful it is. “A wolf can tell when she’s pregnant, can’t she, husband?”

  I force myself to take a breath in, though I’ve already been deprived of it by her small movements forward, thrusting me deeper within her. The subtle, silky stretching that happens in response, to my dick’s movement is incredible.

  “Yes, dear,” I say, hardly aware of my words.

  “Then,” she answers. “I’m going to have a baby.”

  With that, she thrusts her hips and plunges me completely inside of her, my heart and soul left to soar out of me in a wave of bliss.

  “You are wonderful to me,” I sob, as she presses me to her, holds my shoulders as I kneel above her and pounds her pussy. We moan as we join together. Fused. As if one.

  Lost to her desire, Ava wraps her arms over my back. I sense her teeth extending. My whole-body tingles in anticipation. Her lips gently brush my neck first. Then there is the slightest hint of pain as her teeth sink into my flesh. The pain mixes with my pleasure and I know her inner wolf is happy.

  Ava curls herself around my body. Her hands find my taunt butt, she grabs and holds it pulling me into her pussy more. Her touch is demanding, not tentative. She wraps her strong fingers and palm around my cheeks and squeezes as I pump. I react to her touch, getting harder as her body wraps around my own. My cock deep in her pussy. Her hands grabbing my ass. Her teeth in my throat. I am totally enveloped by her. My love, my mate.

  My cock twitches in her pussy. My stomach tightens at the vibrations spreading along my body. I moan as everything tightens and my seed pools in my balls. With each of my thrusts it works its way up my shaft. I cry my release and spend myself into Ava’s waiting womb.

  She lets her orgasm wiggle up through her towards the moon and she screams the pleasure letting her pussy walls pump and grab my cock.

  “Worth the wait. Worth the years I waited to find you and regretted not having you all to myself,” I whisper, my stomach still pressed to hers.

  Ava leans into me, kissing my shoulders and neck. Wiping her own tears there. “You’ll have nothing but this now,” she says, feeling my spirit rise up to meet her in the webs of moonlight. “You’ll have me, our child and our pack. You will never be alone again.”

  I hear church bells chime out midnight. It’s the beginning of the rest of our lives.

  “I promise,” she whispers. “Until death do we part.”

  THE END

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  Here's a preview of Alpha's Halloween Virgin

  Chapter 1

  Tabitha

  Friday, October 29, 2018.

  Friday nights are usually my escape from a life that is overrun by expectations, strictness in thought and belief, and a regimented use of time that would make even prisoners feel freer than I do. On Friday nights I’m allowed a few hours alone in my room and an one hour phone call with my best friend Cami. Even the college I attend and the job I work had to be approved, and both are strictly “wholesome” and religious.

  I had desperately wanted to get far, far away for college, but I couldn’t afford it, so I’m stuck at home and saving every penny to try and escape as soon as I can.

  I look at the book next to me. Trace my fingers over it. It’s called Fang Bang. One in a series, and definitely not something Dad would want me reading anytime. But especially not on Halloween weekend, which he has already labeled the Devil’s Holiday. I always keep it under my pillow or under my bed. That’s where I keep this particular monster safe. My love for sexy, paranormal smut. Something that would be crucified instantly in this house.

  Spreading open the book to my placeholder (a small colorful crucifix bookmark), I begin to immerse myself in the story again. Where I’m at right now, the male main character, Charles Bayne, a werewolf from antiquity, has just been given what he needs to reunite with his Love. Starlet Faun. She has been a werewolf for as long as her mate. They were separated when the continents split into several from one mega continent. Way, way in the past. They’ve been searching for each other ever since.

  I turn pages quickly, absently beginning to touch my hips. My lips. My inner thighs.

  Now that he’s found what he needs to reunite with her, he’s hurrying with all speed. He’s touching and feeling her through his soul. Through his supernatural senses, and already he can begin to feel her love for him. How anxious she is to tie, to lie with him.

  The stroking I’m doing on my lips and inner thighs, becomes a bit less listless, and more determined. Soft, but more urgent and more regular. Already, I can feel my body temperature beginning to spike. Warm, even though the house gets a little cold at this time of night, during this time of year.

  I continue to read, creeping my hands closer to my crotch. My lips, and my clit are shielded within my skirt and panties. They are that oh-so-precious spot that I’m not supposed to know about, let alone be touching, but that makes it all the more exciting to me. And it makes me bring my fingers in closer, hovering just over my panties, before turning the page. After that, I’m right back down to my panties. Touching my little bead through the fabric. The very tip of which I can just make out through my layers.

  At the moment, the touch I’m giving myself is more soothing than anything. It gets me into a bit of a trance as I read, rather than twisted up into a tizzy. But that’s okay, it helps me focus, begin to paint to the details in my mind.

  Charles is racing across landscapes, over bits of a land bridge. As he does, he begins to shift out of werewolf form and to human. As he does, he is a dark-haired, golden-skinned beauty. His hair is long and black. Curly, a wild mass around his dark, keen eyes. His nose is thin, but his mouth is full. Sensual. Carved onto his face with extra beauty and care.

  His body is a thing of sculpted muscle. Beautiful thick and heavy proportions. In his legs, arms, chest and back. All of them ripple with strength and precision. Glisten with sweat as he continues to run, hunger to reunite with her. Already, even if he runs, his cock is standing tall. Proud, thirsting for her. Searching to meet her as well.

  I turn the page, and then another, quickly moving my hand from the front of my panties to down the front of them. To inside the dark, devilish cocoon created by my skirt and underwear. I’m wearing a thong. Something Dad would never approve of, and would have never agreed to let me purchase. Which is why I purchased it without his knowledge with a bit of my birthday money last year. They have become my “fantasy” panties.

  Panties I wear when I’m reading these kinds of books; spending this kind of time with myself as I finish snaking my hand down my skirt, and onto the thin, silky barrier of my thong and resume stroking. As I do, I give a little gasp. A little lick of my lips, feeling how much more sensation I get now. How much soft and squishy greets me on either end. And my clit, it’s getting nubb
y. Hard in the best way, and with just some soft, intermittent “scrubbing” motions of my fingers. My nails, because I like a little bit of pain with my pleasure.

  As I’m stroking myself and widening my legs a little bit for a little more surface area, I focus back in on the story. How Charles has just seen Starlet running toward him. Like him, she is naked. Where his cock is standing at attention as he runs, her nipples are out straight. Her breasts are full and perky, giving their own “hello” to him.

  As I read her description—short, reddish-brown hair, blue eyes and a heart-shaped face, I begin to stroke myself a little faster. Quicker, and make the strokes longer and lingering, not so rapid-fire. I feel my heartbeat and temperature increase, along with my breathing. It’s a little fast. A little shallow. Starlet looks like me. She is me, I think, deciding I’m going to do just that: put myself in her place, though I’m not nearly as busty as she’s described. Nor do I share her shapely hips. I’m well proportioned, but I’m not “thick” in that way, and I’m not necessarily well endowed. I’m a bit on the flatter side, but that’s just fine with my parents. They say I’m “not much to look at” that way, which is just fine.

  With them, but so not me. Thinking this, I keep up my stroking. I pause a bit, but only enough to turn a page, and anticipate what happens next. Charles and Starlet finally meeting up. I massage and whisper my fingers around my clit as they run to be reunited, but I hold off from really touching. Really doing anything special, until they actually hug. Begin touching each other the way I’m touching myself.

  Begin fucking, which is actually what I’m here for.

  As I just do this barest bit of stroking and attention, my clit and folds are already growing damp in my thong. Every inch of my body is practically begging to be touched. Sucked. Pinched, much like what’s happening with Starlet’s nipples. Her and Charles have finally reunited, literally run into each other’s arms and started fucking right then and there, on part of the land bridge. Except Starlet is not Starlet; she’s me. I’m the one with her nipples in Charles’ vicious, hungry mouth. Getting harder and harder as his tongue lashes around her tender, sensitive skin.