by Lexi Lane
He gave her a withering once over and she wilted. “I’m here because your grandmother asked me to look in on you.
“My grandmother’s dead. The funeral is tomorrow.” The words were sharper than she intended. The ache was back in her heart; her beloved Grandmother Jean had died just a few days before. Layla hadn’t made it home in time to say goodbye and she wasn’t sure how to forgive herself for that.
“I know when the funeral is. I’m sorry for your loss, Layla. I know how much you loved her.”
“Thank you, Lucas.” And she meant it. She knew his condolences to be genuine and despite how much he had hurt her she knew that he cared for her grandmother as he did the rest of her family. They had grown up together and small town folks looked out for one another, just like kin.
Lucas’s eyes seemed greener than ever, she had to look at the ground to stop herself from seeing the grim expression written within them. It made him seem far too human and she didn’t want him to be. He was an asshole who had broken her heart, a monster that had hurt her. “Well, I just thought I’d drop by but I best leave you to get started with your day. I’ll see you later, Layla.”
Layla looked up but his gaze wasn’t on her face, it was locked onto the coral nipple that showed through her camisole. A bead of sweat popped up on his forehead and she felt the malicious grin crossing her lips.
“Yeah, I’m hoping to see Matt today. Been a long time and I thought it would be nice to drop by his place for a drink. Take care, Lucas,” she cooed and slammed the door.
She heard him grumble to himself as she shot the lock home. The shocked look on his face made her grin, it served him right to find himself staring at the wrong side of a closed door. Matt was a local boy that they had both grown up with, a handsome fellow that had always been in love with Layla though she really had no real interest in him. Mentioning his name was deliberate; she was hoping to incite a response from Lucas and as the green monster swirled in his eyes she knew she still had him.
Heading into her old bedroom, she flopped down on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. Once upon a time she would have done anything to keep Lucas on her porch a little longer, waiting for her attention. Her body stirred again and she slammed the lid closed on the desire that she still felt for him. She had waited for him for far too long and was now determined never to let him get to her again.
Sighing, she rolled over onto her belly, pressing her aching pussy into the mattress in an attempt to relieve the pressure there.
“You’ll never get over him.”
The words echoed across the room and Layla slung a pillow at the wall, that small act did nothing to relieve her stormy emotions.
She hadn’t gotten over Lucas. Not at all.
***
The moon hung heavy and full over the parking lot of Good Time Charlie’s. Layla knew she shouldn’t be there, she was too angry and saddened by the death of her grandmother and the sight of Lucas had sent that anger and sorrow spiraling into a depressing fog that seemed to grip her tightly, too tightly. She had decided on the spur of the moment to head to the next county over to the tiny little cinderblock bar, a favorite for the local bad element.
The place looked far worse than it had the last time she had seen it. Back then she had been an adventurous teenager, looking out at the little building squatting there in the dark she realized she didn’t really want to be there.
She knew she should just turn around and head on back to the cottage, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave. She didn’t want to be alone in the lonely cottage stuck with nothing more than her memories. With a deep sigh, she got out of her car and made her way across the parking lot carefully, her stiletto heels made walking difficult, but she finally navigated past the buckled asphalt and scattered pools of broken glass and made it to the heavy steel door.
When she opened it the soured whiff of beer, cheap perfume and sweat mingled with cologne hit her like a stone wall. The bar still allowed cigarettes and a greyish-blue haze drifted along the low ceilings. Eyes locked onto her and she paused, suddenly very conscious of just how short her black tank dress was. Her breasts strained at the fabric, she had foresworn a bra and she could feel her nipples rubbing almost painfully against the dress.
A man shaped like a fireplug detached his bulk form the bar and came toward her, a predatory smile eating across his moon-like face. “Hey pretty lady,” he began in a guttural voice that brought a whiff of his rank breath to her nose.
Layla backpedaled. Her ass hit the edge of a bar stool and it toppled to the floor just as the jukebox died. Every head turned toward her. In the dimness, lit only by strings of garish lights, they all looked terrifying, she felt fear seize her and she would have run if she had not spotted a familiar face in the crowd huddled at a table near the miniscule dance floor.
Lucas, and he was sitting terribly close to a blowsy looking blonde with a drunken glaze in her eyes and her scarlet lipstick smeared around her mouth so that she resembled a circus clown that had stumbled into the crowd.
Ire ate into Layla. So that was the kind of woman he preferred? She flung her head back, her long blond hair rippled across her shoulders and she heard an appreciative sigh from a few of the patrons. Putting a deliberate strut into her walk she made her way to the end of the bar, not looking over to see if Lucas were watching was the hardest thing she had ever done. Everyone else was watching though so she figured the odds were pretty good he was.
“Can I get a lemon drop martini?”
The bartender gave her a stunned look at those words. He was a rotund guy with tattoos snaking their way down both of his burly arms. “I got beer and tequila, vodka and whisky.”
A hand reached below her elbow and lifted her from her seat. Before she could do more than kick out with one highly heeled foot she realized that that hand belonged to Lucas and that he was steadily hauling her to the door. Embarrassed she reacted by kicking out harder with both feet, a grim satisfaction filling her when she felt her toes connecting with his shins. Laughter sprang up from somewhere and echoed throughout the room.
“Stop,” Lucas’s breath tickled her ear and a strange little squiggle of sensation ran down her spine, reversed and ran back up it again. She wriggled against him, a hardness lay between them, nudging against the cheeks of her ass and she felt a spiteful satisfaction at having aroused him. “You need to get out of here right now, Layla. I’m serious. You are in danger.”
He shoved the door open and quickly forced her out into the parking lot. She landed against the side of a rusted Ford, her breath whooshed out and she turned to yell at him but her breath stuck in her throat and words failed her.
A giant wolf’s face hung over Lucas’s broad shoulder. Even as she watched a patch of foamy spittle dripped from its muzzle and landed on his faded blue work shirt. A scream wrenched out of her and she ran, not away, but toward him, her fists flailing as she screamed at him to look out.
Running into him was like running into a steel tank. She had time to wonder if she had totally lost her mind, if she were hallucinating or just plain crazy then the beastly stench of the wolf hit her and she gagged. Her hands landed on a patch of thickly matted fur and Lucas was shoving her away once more. The door slammed and she landed on her ass in the middle of the parking lot. A sliver of broken bottle lanced into her right ankle and she groaned as pain echoed along her nerve endings. She stood, from within the bar was the sound of growls and a low howl that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
The door buckled and what was obviously a large paw came through it. She didn’t need any more incentive, she ran like hell for her car. She jumped in and gunned the engine, not even noticing that during her headlong flight she had somehow managed to run right out of her shoes.
Peeling rubber as she went, she fled Good Time Charlie’s lot. Her hands gripped the wheel with white knuckled intensity and her legs shook violently. Her right foot kept slipping off the gas pedal and stark terror made her breath whoosh i
n and out in long billowing gulps. Her belly was loose and hot and she kept her eyes forward, too afraid to look backwards.
The black wolf came out of the high standing elms trees at the bend where the road arced along the sea. The guardrail was to Layla’s right and the wolf to her left, not knowing what else to do she gunned the engine of her tiny sedan, hoping to knock it off the side of the road and down the steep hillside.
Instead the car made a hollow booming noise that did not bode well at all. She had to fight the wheel as the impact tossed her and the car to one side. An involuntary scream broke from Layla’s throat as the wolf’s face mashed into her windshield for a split second in a gruesomely funny distortion that sent her into hysterical laughter even as panic overrode every rational thought.
The car bucked along the centerline and the wolf clung to it, one massive paw digging deeply into the hood. Steam billowed up and he howled in pain. His enormous body blocked her view and she screamed, sure she was going to go over the side at any second.
Instead the car skidded along the opposite side of the road and hit a tree. The hood crumpled and the wolf was thrown off. Layla threw her hands up over her face as limbs and leaves shot through the windshield: broken glass starring and shattering all around her.
***
Layla came to slowly. Her entire body ached and she couldn’t remember where she was. Had she gotten drunk? The dreams she had, she tried to sit up and a pain burst through her skull, forcing her to sink back down into bed.
“Wow that’s a hell of a hangover.” Her voice sounded odd, it echoed and she forced her eyes to focus. The ceiling was too far overhead, the bed too close to the floor. She had to concentrate to make details take shape and when they did she wished they had not.
She was in a large cave: stone walls dripping long trails of moisture around her. The bed she lay on was a rude pile of pelts; a quick inspection showed that thankfully none were human, but that made her feel no better. A bitter musky scent hung in the air and when she tried to move her body she realized that while she could feel her arms and legs and her fingers and toes all seemed to work she was utterly naked.
Rolling to her side and out of the makeshift bed caused a fresh wave of dizziness to wash over her. The floor was cold below her feet and she could feel a breeze on her nude body. A thick panting breath yanked her attention to the far corner of the cave and she shrieked as the wolf stalked closer, its enormous black furred body between her and the entrance to the cave.
“Please…” Layla gushed weakly.
The wolf stalked closer. It walked on its hind legs and something about it was hauntingly familiar, memories and confusion battled in her mind. “Why did you kill Lucas?”
The wolf snarled and hot salty tears spilled down her cheeks. A single bar of silvery moonlight striped the wolf’s body and the floor as it drew nearer. Frantic, she looked around for a weapon, any weapon but found nothing. Other than the bed and a pile of small bones that she sincerely hoped belonged to animals the cave was empty.
Except for her and the wolf.
“So you want to kill me now?” Layla’s voice was hoarse and she grabbed a fur pelt from the bed, tossing at its head. The fur landed and the wolf batted it away with one paw. Its eyes stared down at her and Layla paused, uncertainty filling her. Its eyes were…
Before she could finish that thought the wolf was on top of her. They went rolling across the floor: Layla kicking and screaming and scratching at the monstrous thing until they hit a solid wall and she got the air knocked out of her once again.
Anger and instinct took over. That thing had killed Lucas, she had seen it happen. Lucas had been the love of her life and that thing had murdered him. She screamed out those words as she fought, her teeth sank into one of its long forearms and the taste of blood filled her mouth. Gagging she spit it out and the wolf retaliated by yanking her high up in the air and dangling her feet above the floor.
A long purring came from its throat and she stared. Then she was lowered gently and her body pressed into the body of her captor. A hot hardness filled the space between them, rubbed against her nakedness and a bolt of long suppressed desire jolted through her.
“No!” Layla yelped but she had no will to fight any more.
The werewolf dropped to all fours, its nose pressing to the wet junction between her thighs. Breath stirred her blonde pubic curls and she shuddered in a horrified revulsion mingled with lust. A wet tongue swiped out and parted her pouter labia, she screamed and backed away. Her back hit the wall and she stood there, shaking, as the wolf edged closer. Its tongue came back and a groan escaped her mouth as her pussy was licked slowly, sensually.
Sensation prickled her skin and she whimpered as she was licked again and again. For one moment the ideas that perhaps she was being tenderized surfaced but that thought was wiped away with the very next caress.
A hard tongue probed inside her folds, her body jerked in reaction as it moved in and out of her. Her hips began to thrust forward and back and sticky fluids spilled out of her slit, running down her inner thighs before being licked away.
The throbbing bud of her clit was cradled by a thick, soft tongue, then that tongue circled the hard flesh. She gasped and arched her back so that her hips came away from the wall and pressed more firmly into the wolf’s mouth.
A long pounding beat began in her pussy. Her walls seized and began to spasm, her toes curled and she rose up on them, trying desperately to get away and get more of that incredible sensation, all at the same time. A heat she had never known flushed through her entire body and her nipples contracted into almost painful points. Instinctively her fingers came up and squeezed those hard buds, causing a moan to break from her lips.
Hot gushes of come flowed from her, dripped onto the floor and ran down her legs. The wolf backed away, its eyes glinting in the moonlight and that stab of recognition came again.
“Who…?”
The word ended in abruptly, the question forever cut off. The wolf snatched her away from the wall and tossed her to the floor easily. Her knees hit hard stone and she shrieked with fresh pain. Her body jackknifed as she tried to raise herself up on her knees and her hips were snatched up high, her legs rudely thrust apart.
The sound of the wind was very loud. Her kneecaps scraped and her palms ached from being scraped along the small pebbles on the floor. She could smell the werewolf’s scent: a high musky scent that she knew came from his being aroused.
Hardness probed at her opening. She struggled, fighting against the sensation of it. Heated and thick, it pressed insistently against her soaked folds and she beat her fists into the floor, first in anger then in ecstasy as he took her over, driving fully into her.
He locked into place. She felt it. The already enormous cock grew in size and then simply locked down; he simply could not withdraw fully from her without ripping her apart. Her own hips pumped in rhythm to the werewolf’s thrusts and her own fluids leaked from her. The wolf’s breath tickled her ears, his teeth grazed her neck: tiny little bites that made her scream in both fear and lust.
The beast howled and the moonlight faltered on the stones. For one brief moment the paws holding her became hands and she stared at them as they circled her, tweaked her nipples almost playfully before transforming once more into hairy paws tipped with razor-sharp claws.
Reality faded in and out with each heavy and hard thrust. The wolf’s member grew thicker and pain began to filter in through the pleasure. The rigid cock slid along her swollen pussy, and then out just a few inches. Friction and heat combined to force a tremendous orgasm from her. The hot liquid made the wolf shudder and howl again then a flood of steaming white seed spurted from his cock.
They unknotted. Layla would have fallen to the floor if he had not held her up. Cries came from her throat and lips and a shaggy paw stroked along the column of her spine. The moon died out and she felt the beast changing, turning human. She tried to turn over but strong arms held her face down, refusin
g to allow her to see who had fucked her so well and hard.
Her own hot come trickled down her thigh, staining the streams of his semen that ran from her aching slit. The world spun and she managed to get a plea out before the moonlight came back and the beast returned. Layla slid into a dark and merciful sleep, her mind simply unable to handle any more.
***
Lucas stood over her, his lean body naked and the sun filtering through his black hair. His green eyes were half-closed and his strong white upper teeth deeply imbedded into his full bottom lip.
Layla smiled, knowing that she was the author of his pleasure. Her hands slid around his hard cock and her head bent to it as well. She flicked her tongue along the taut helmet, enjoying the taste of the tiny drop of pre-come that spilled forth from the narrow hole there.
Opening her mouth wider she slid it down the length of his manhood. Lucas groaned, his fingers tangling into her hair as she sucked her mouth closed, applying pressure with both her lips and fingers: squeezing and suckling him lovingly.
Her free hand came up, cradling the heavy sac of his balls in her palm. Lucas began to pump his hips and she worked harder. His fingernails left tiny tingling trails along her scalp, making her gasp in painful pleasure.
A hard knocking yanked Layla from a heavy sleep. She opened her eyes and the room spun. Her head ached and when she blinked several times it was to see her own bedroom ceiling staring blindly down at her.
The knocking continued and she staggered out of bed. She was still in the dress she had worn the night before but barefoot. The dress was torn and stained and there were long scratches and scrapes on her knees. The memories of the night before surfaced and she stared at the door of her bedroom, unsure of what to do.
The doorbell rang again, followed by another barrage of knocks. Staggering through the cottage Layla made it to the front door and swung it open to see Lucas standing there in his uniform, a grim look on his devilishly handsome face.
