Alpha Ever After

by Casey Morgan

  “Let me,” I offered.

  With questioning eyes and her mouth opened just slightly in shock, Celeste’s mother handed me the wet rag. I grabbed the nearby bucket and started scrubbing at the paint. Both women turned to watch me. They held their tongues for a few minutes, but then the mother blew out a breath.

  “We do need help. Mr. Whitepaw?”

  I turned to look at her.

  “I’m Martha Blenko. My girl, Celeste, and I welcome you to the Crescent Moon Bakery. Can I take your bag and coat inside?” she asked politely.

  “No, Ma’am, that’s okay. And please call me Mason.”

  I raised my hands up to stop her from picking up my things.

  “My coat and bag are very dirty, and I would not want to spoil your nice clothes. Just leave them be and I will bring them inside when I finish with this paint, please.”

  The old woman gave me a brief smile.

  “Very well. I will make you a sandwich. We don’t have much to spare around here, but we will keep you fed.”

  “Thank you,” I told her. “That would be very kind of you.”

  She nodded quickly and pulled the door open. Celeste held back, looking me over and shifting her weight from foot to foot. I could tell she wanted to talk to me more, but her mother would have none of it.

  The tall woman waited a few moments and then waved her hand at the interior of the bakery. Celeste looked her in the eyes, and for a second it seemed like she was going to argue, but she didn’t.

  “Sorry you haven’t gotten that shower,” she told me.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I don’t mind being thrown into this work. I’ll clean up afterwards, since I’ll just get dirty again anyway now.”

  She gave me one last look, blushed a bit, and hurried into the bakery.

  I would be lying if I said that I didn’t watch her plump ass as she walked away.

  Chapter Eight

  Mason

  Rubbing the paint off the walls took me the rest of the afternoon. It was hard work, but the day was pleasant. It didn’t snow and the clouds stayed away.

  Being at The Crescent Moon Bakery felt comfortable, like I was part of a normal life. Through the windows, I watched Celeste and her friend work at the counter and bring trays of baked goods in from the back.

  There was a steady stream of customers, not a crowd but one or two per hour. I liked to watch Celeste talk and laugh with the people coming in for a sweet treat. She had the best smile, wide and bright.

  It was enough to make me feel a little weak in the knees—which was very out of character for me. I still wasn’t sure what it was about this girl, that she could have this type of effect on me when normally I was strong as nails.

  Every time I caught myself staring, I pulled my eyes away and went back to work. This was just a job and the human girl was off limits. I knew this but had to remind myself often, especially when I caught my eyes roaming to her ample chest or her round backside.

  The bakery closed around four o’clock in the afternoon, which was around the same time I finished removing the paint. Celeste came outside with a cup of tea and a small plate that held a muffin.

  “I expect you’re getting hungry.”

  She offered both with a smile.

  I waved a hand in refusal.

  “Honestly, I still want that shower you promised, before anything touches my lips. Do you mind?”

  “Not a problem. Follow me.”

  She held the door open and I grabbed my things. The inside of the bakery was warm and inviting.

  The wooden chairs and tables were old, and a bit worn but still charming. About five tables filled the seating area. To the right side of the room was the counter and glass display cases. Behind that, double doors led to the kitchen beyond.

  To the very left of the counter was a wooden staircase that led up to the owner’s apartment, where Celeste and her family lived. It was all neat and tidy and friendly. This was a place that was loved, and it showed.

  Mary, her little red-headed friend, was mopping the floor. She stared at me as we walked past. Her eyes wide and her small body was shaking like a leaf. I gave her a smile, but she just dropped her eyes.

  Celeste, and her fine ass, led me upstairs and down a tan carpeted hallway. She was close enough to touch, but I kept my hands firmly clenched on my belongings. She was a temptation, nothing more. I told myself that I would help her and then leave.

  She nodded her blonde head towards the last door in the hallway.

  “The shower is in there. The towels are fresh. Please feel free to use any soap or shampoo you’d like. Mine might be a little fruity. I’m not sure about my dad’s. But that would probably be a better choice.”

  I held my hand up and touched my nose.

  “Makes no difference to me,” I explained. “I can’t smell a thing.”

  Her sweet eyes widened, and she gasped.

  “Nothing at all?” she asked, in surprise.

  I nodded.

  “Not the cookies I made earlier or the bread that is baking right now?”

  “Not a thing. Bad accident.”

  It was an unclear explanation, but that was all I could give her. Celeste would never understand the real story. Government experimentation on werewolves was not something I think she would believe. Most humans wouldn’t.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

  She looked at me blankly for a few seconds and like she wanted to say something more but couldn’t find the words. Finally, she gave up and then moved to walk back down the hall. I watched her go, until she disappeared down the stairs.

  I headed into the bathroom and turned the light on. Glad to have the chance to clean up, I rummaged through my backpack and found my clippers.

  I cut my hair and shaved off my beard, making sure to keep the fallen hair in one spot so I could clean it up easily. I washed my jeans in the sink next and hung them on a hanger that was attached to the door so that they could dry.

  Then, I started the shower and pulled my shirt over my head. I looked at myself in the mirror. Scars covered my chest; they were memories and marks from fights in the past. I had come across several alphas in my travels. They were hard men, some military trained like me, all of us desperate to find a home and a mate.

  When I was younger, I had scrapped over territory and the right to pass. Some of the times, I won. Only those who had found their place were able to turn me away, because they had the power of the pack and their mate making them stronger.

  All in all, it didn’t matter. None of the territories I won were worth it. Without a woman, a werewolf mate of my own, those places were just land and cities empty of true meaning, so I wandered on. Now, I was tired and Gray Acres seemed as good a place as any to stop and live out my life alone.

  I shook my head and focused on the here and now. It would be good to be clean, and to sleep indoors for the night like a man not in the bushes in wolf form. I could easily fight off these human men that were troubling Celeste and her family. Of that I had no doubt. The true question was if I could keep my hands off the human girl.

  I stepped into the shower and let the water flow over my head and shoulders. I grabbed an ivory shampoo bottle and squeezed out a drop.

  Was it Celeste’s?

  I wasn’t sure.

  I thought of her smile as I rubbed the shampoo into a lather on my head. Her round face was so pretty, with her sharp cheek bones, big eyes, and full lips. Her skin was clear and a light shade of ivory. I liked how her mouth looked as she talked—her lips were pink and kissable.

  I rinsed out my hair and grabbed the bar of soap. There was a clean washrag provided and I lathered that up.

  It had been two days since my last bath. Not the longest I had ever gone, but my last one was in wolf form in a freezing river. The rub down with the washrag felt good over my human skin; it warmed every inch of me.

  I bet Celeste’s shoulders were as light skinned as her face, ivory colored and flawless. The tw
o times I had seen her, she had been dressed in long sleeves and long skirts. Her mother and friend were dressed that way as well.

  It had to be a religious or ethnic thing. Not that it mattered, but it was definitely different than the way most women dressed, even in conservative Grey’s Acres.

  I would have loved a chance to see a bit more of her skin, though— a bit of her shoulders or if she wore a low-cut shirt that exposed her cleavage. She had a lot to show off and it was hard not to stare at how her huge breasts pushed at the fabric of her sweaters.

  I imagined her coming up to me in a tight V-neck t-shirt. Her two breasts would be hiked up into two rounded mounds, pressed together with no space between them.

  I washed my groin area. Between the roughness of the washrag and the direction of my thoughts, my dick woke and started to harden. I rubbed it, encouraging its growth.

  If I was to be able to keep my cool around such a beautiful woman, I needed to satisfy myself. My thick cock hardened and lengthened beneath my hand. I removed the rag and leaned back against the wall. I pumped my length, using the suds and bubbles as a lube.

  Celeste’s breasts came to my mind again. They were so big, they could hold my thick dick between them. My body shuttered a bit at the thought. Such an innocent girl would never let a stranger fuck her tits. She was too good, too pure. But damn, how I wanted to.

  I imagined Celeste before me without her sweater or a shirt. Her full breasts were perky, defying gravity in the way only breasts seem able to. She asked me—no begged me with that pouty mouth of hers—to touch her breasts.

  “They’re so round and soft,” she told me. “They are just begging for your touch.”

  To demonstrate, she put her own little hands on them and squeezed. But her boobs were so big, they overfilled her tiny palms.

  “Please,” she pouted. “I don’t want to do this alone.”

  In my fantasy, I stepped forward and ran a finger under her left breast. Her skin—perfect ivory—was smooth and soft to my touch. I ran my fingers over the rest of the breast and squeezed.

  Her innocent mouth formed into a little O as she inhaled. Her eyes were on mine, begging me to touch her more.

  I took my other hand and grabbed her right breast. They were perfect. I squeezed them and felt their softness. Then I started to roll them in my palms.

  “That feels so good,” Celeste said, in my fantasy.

  Her eyes were half shut now, desire making her drunk.

  Her nipples hardened beneath my palms, like little marbles. I moved my hands and trapped them between my fingers. Pulling slightly, I teased her nipples to become harder. They firmed beneath my touch, becoming longer as well.

  I leaned down and took one into my mouth. Celeste’s skin was clean and tasted slightly sweet. Her rigid nipple was rough on my lips. I swept my tongue across it, lapping at it, and making it move. Pleased by my attentions, Celeste leaned into me.

  “Fuck my tits,” she begged, her blue eyes still on mine.

  Hearing a dirty word come out of her innocent lips turned me on more. My cock was ready to take her and claim her body. She led me to a bed and laid down before me, fully nude.

  I straddled her waist and pulled her breasts together with one of my hands. Dropping my abdomen towards her stomach, my hard cock pushed into her smooth skin.

  I wiggled it a little, letting my precum wet the area. The bottom of her breasts became damp and my cock slid between them easily.

  Her skin was so smooth and the space between her tits was warm. They were big enough to cover my entire length, but occasionally I pushed forward just enough to watch my dickhead pop out of her cleavage. Precum dripped down onto her chest and towards her throat.

  Celeste was enjoying every thrust. Her light-blue eyes were lit with desire and she watched my dick move in and out of her cleavage.

  “I want you to come on me,” she begged. “Mark me as yours.”

  In the shower, I gripped my dick as tight as I could and pumped it hard. My fantasy made my balls swell. They pulled up towards my body, pushing my seed into my shaft. My cock filled and swelled more. I traced my cockhead with my thumb, teasing just lightly. Then I dropped my hand down the length of my shaft and pulled up as hard as I could.

  I imagined that my hand was Celeste’s tits. They gripped me so tight. They were so big and warm, and now, wet from my precum.

  “Come on me,” she pouted in my fantasy. “Let me see you. Show me how much you want me.”

  Three more very hard pulls and my dick shot up on its own. It clenched, a sensation I could feel throughout my whole body and then released.

  I came hard. My seed coated my hand and shot up towards my stomach. In my mind, each spurt covered Celeste’s chest. I kept pumping her, sliding my cock through my own cum—the wet feeling causing me to come more.

  My dick thrust up again, released more seed and released waves of pleasure throughout my whole body. It had been so long since I sought release. I had ignored my cock for months, while I was suppressing my desires and focusing my mind on basic survival. My balls had been heavy because of this and they unload more.

  A third pump and squirt of cum coated the shower wall. I imagined it hitting Celeste in the neck and dripping down her shoulder. Her ivory skin would look so hot covered in my cum.

  Would she be a dirty girl and play with it?

  Maybe she would taste it, running her fingers through it and bringing them to her mouth. I wanted her to eat it all, suck it down like it was whipped cream or cookie batter and beg me for more.

  I leaned forward and put my hands against the tiles of the shower. My orgasm made me light headed. It had been too long. I was ignoring my basic functions. In a werewolf, that could be dangerous. I had to keep my cool around this girl, I reminded myself.

  I cleaned the shower, turned it off and dried myself. It was a good fantasy and a good orgasm. I should be able to make it through the next few days without another dirty thought.

  Pleased with myself, I dressed, taking another pair of jeans from my bag and pulling out a clean t-shirt. This one was gray, and it had a hole by the collar, but I didn’t have a choice. It would have to do.

  I found Celeste in the downstairs dinning area. She was inflating a twin sized air mattress. When I approached, she flipped off the little pump and turned to me.

  Shock covered her face. Her eyes opened big and her mouth hung gaping. She studied my shaved jaw line and then her eyes ran up to my shorter hair. I ran a hand through it and fluffed it slightly. It was still damp.

  “You look…”

  “Celeste!”

  We both turned and looked at her mother. The lean woman had her arms crossed in front of her.

  “Up to dinner, now!” she ordered. “Mr. Whitepaw, I set some soup and bread in the kitchen for you.”

  She pointed towards the double doors.

  “Please clean up and turn off the light when you finish.”

  I nodded.

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  With her mother staring and pointing up the stairs, Celeste told me goodnight and headed towards her parent’s room for dinner.

  I watched her ass sway as she climbed the stairs. All my efforts to keep my mind clean were gone in one glance. Celeste was so sexy, and I was in trouble.

  Chapter Nine

  Mason

  The air mattress didn’t support my weight, or it was old. It was too difficult to tell which. Either way, it was quickly losing its air and sinking to the floor.

  I had slept on the ground for many nights before, but I usually did it in wolf form. This was just uncomfortable. I appreciated the hospitality this family had bestowed upon me in exchange for my help, but the hardwood floor was stiff and cold beneath the plastic of the mattress and the thin sheets Celeste had provided for me.

  It was clear I couldn’t sleep, but it wasn’t all due to discomfort.

  I rolled over and sat up, leaning one of my shoulders to the wall. I stared out at the empty bak
ery. Moonlight crept in the square windows illuminating swaths of the wooden chairs and tables.

  By the height of the moon, I could tell that it was a little after midnight. I doubted that anyone would be coming to harass the bakers tonight. It was too soon.

  But still, I had to be a good guard dog. Maybe I could scare away a mouse or two.

  I laughed to myself and thought for the thousandth time that I should just risk it and shift. I would sleep better in wolf form on the cold floor and deflated air mattress. But something told me not to.

  What if I over slept and Celeste found a wolf in her bakery in the morning?

  I’d bet she’d think I’d eaten her grandmother, I thought tartly. I smiled to myself, thinking about being the big bad wolf from Grimm’s tale. I certainly would like to eat this little girl up, but in an altogether different way.

  My cock stirred and twitched at my impure thought. I had ignored my desires so often, I was almost celibate.

  Sure, I could use my alpha charm and influence to seduce Celeste, but I didn’t want another human. I wanted a mate. A wolf to call my wife and my own. It was a fucking hopeless dream at this point.

  I reached down and rubbed my lonely cock through my pants. There was no hope for relief again tonight. I would have to wait till this job was done and keep my mind out of the gutter and my hands out of Celeste’s long skirts.

  There was a soft creak, and I froze. It was a tiny sound, hardly noticeable to most ears but my wolf hearing was better than a human’s. A flat, soft smacking sound followed; skin hitting the wooden floor. Someone was coming.

  Turning from the windows, I peered over to the staircase. A form in a pink, fuzzy bathrobe was slowly stepping down the stairs.

  I pulled my back up against the wall and gazed around the corner. Slowly, gradually, Celeste’s face came into view. Wide eyed, she looked around the bakery as if seeking me out.

  Her honey-blonde hair was long and loose, hanging over her shoulders in a silken wave. It caught the moonlight.