Rogue Wolf

by Amber Ella Monroe

  Monica's heart was racing, her mind and body responding in avid anticipation to Deacon's demanding kisses. She unbuckled his belt and slipped the leather from two of the loops. When she unzipped his fly, his hard cock extended outward as if it was relieved to be free. Her dress was bunched up at her hips and he traced his hands up and down her legs, grabbing the fleshy curves of her thighs. She pulled away from the kiss, pulled up the ends of her dress, and rid herself of the fabric that once separated them.

  He gasped and his eyes drank in the sight of her. Moonlight blue eyes turned to almost a deep violet and his irises changed shapes. He'd revealed his wolf, but this time he did nothing to cover it up. Deacon wasn't the only one doing the appraising. As her gaze swept over him, over the numerous markings, old bruises, and tattoos that covered his chest, she wanted him like a deep need that would never go away. The hummingbird birthmark on his left arm was now a deep ruby color on his skin. Everything about him took her breath away.

  She hook her finger in a come-hither motion, urging him to close the gap between them again. This time she kissed his flesh, starting with the delicate skin just under his jaw and his throat. He smelled of the aftershave she used on him after giving him a trim. She pressed kisses onto his shoulders and chest, reveling in the way he moaned with each touch.

  Deacon picked her up and carried her again, placing her on a soft bed that smelled like him. He shimmied out his pants, letting them fall to the floor around his feet. His briefs fit snugly against him and what turned her on even more was seeing the impression of the thicket and longest cock she'd ever seen tucked behind the fabric. He was so erect that the cockhead had protruded from the waistline.

  Lightning struck somewhere outside and the lights in the room flickering and then shut off completely. Even in the darkened room, she could still make out his rock solid form perfectly. He came toward the bed, reaching out to stroke the underside of her chin.

  "You're beautiful, Monica. And soon, you will be mine," he told her.

  "Yes," she panted. She wanted to be his.

  He shoved down his brief, pushing them down and throwing them aside. Then he grabbed her hand and pulled it to his cock. Something akin to a groan mixed with a soft growl erupted from him. It was the sexiest thing Monica had ever heard. She wanted to please him even more. She stroked his long, thick shaft. Her fingers just barely touched as she pumped him firmly within her grip. Beads of pre-cum leaked from the tip, moistening her palms, creating the most sensual feeling as she pleased him. She leaned forward and kissed her way all the way down his eight pack. Just before she reached his cock, Deacon tilted her chin up and her mouth away and then leaned down to kiss her deeply and reached around her to unclip her bra. The garment fell away from her and her breasts broke free. The bed dipped as he placed both knees on either side of her thighs. He went straight for her breasts, capturing her nipples one after the other into his mouth, teasing and tugging them with the skilled tip of his tongue. She leaned back on her elbows and enjoyed the view, watching as her beaded nipples disappeared between his lips over and over again.

  "Oh God Deacon," she mumbled.

  His cock brushed up against her skin more than once and she arched upward, silently seeking more of his touch. He traced a heated trail lower toward her hips with his mouth, drawing all kinds of figures over her body with his tongue. He grabbed the waistband of her panties and tugged them off. When she was completely exposed to him, he wasted no time in finding the source of her excitement. His lips and mouth on her send her into pleasure-filled bliss. Over and over, he tongued her, spreading her pussy lips to delve deeper. He paid diligent attention to her clit, sucking the firm little bud between his lips the same way he had taken her nipples.

  "Oh!" She bit her lip, rocking her hips up, offering herself freely.

  He put on quite a show, looking up at her every now and then to lock gazes with her. As his tongue entered her over and over again, she watched his wide shoulders flex. She grabbed his head and twined her fingers with his hair, the same hair she'd trimmed only moments earlier.

  "Mmmm," he moaned into her pussy, sending a stream of vibrations to her clit that made her toes curl.

  She was done for. She couldn't hold on any longer. The way he was sucking and working her clit so avidly proved that he wanted her to let go. And let go she did. An orgasm of explosive magnitudes ripped through her. The force of her climax nearly drained all of her energy. Her mind went blank as she gave up total control of her body. Her coaxed her all the way to end of her release and then kissed his way back up to her lips.

  "It sounds so sweet when you scream my name that way," he whispered against her mouth.

  Deacon's cock was now pressed firmly to her belly. She lifted her thighs around him, wanting so badly to be taken, filled, and plundered by him.

  "I want you to take me," she whispered, between kisses.

  "If I take you, you will be mine. I am certain of that," he said. "There is no going back."

  "I don't want you to go back. I want you here with me. Never leave me…" she declared.

  "I can never leave you. My mate. I am positive that I will never leave without you."

  He kissed her forehead and positioned his cockhead at her entrance. He sunk in only a couple inches. He was thick and heavy and she liked it that way. She wanted nothing between them. Just Deacon. Flesh to flesh. Hard and unprotected. His massive and perfectly erect fucking her into oblivion. She arched upward, biting her lips and anticipated how much his cock would fill her. She wanted him so badly that she began to relax, and her pussy walls milked him, drawing him inside. She ran her fingers up through his hair, pulling his mouth down to hers. She pushed her tongue inside, tasting herself on him. He took her invite, pulling out all the way and then plunged deep in her juicy sheath.

  She cried out hoarsely through the pleasure-pain. A second tiny orgasm rippled through her as he seated himself to the hilt.

  "You're okay, yes?" he whispered.

  She nodded, trembling in his arms in the aftermath of her small climax. Only having been with one man in this manner in all her life, she had no idea a cock could feel this fulfilling inside her.

  Deacon started out moving deliberately slow, allowing her time to accommodate herself to his size. He reached spots that she never thought possible. Once comfortable, she moved her hips upward with each thrust of his cock. He grabbed her by the waist with his big, rough hands, holding her firmly against the bed. By the look in his eyes, she could tell that his control was fading and something else was taking root inside him. She knew without a doubt what it was. He was not only a man, but also a beast. A wolf needing just as much satisfaction as the man.

  "Make me yours, Deacon."

  That was all the encouragement he needed. He slammed into her again and again, pounding her with the same determination of the rain that pelted the earth outside.

  "Look at me, Monica. Look at me and say it again," he demanded.

  "I'm yours, Deacon," she repeated, catching his gaze and holding it like a vice.

  "Yes," he groaned. "Mine."

  This time her orgasm was a slow built. It started down in the soles of her feet, rising inch by inch across her thing and up through her veins. Her core ignited, searing heat spread through her, and unsated need became mind-blowing fulfilment.

  Her pussy tightened around him. Her fingernails gripped the dampened flesh on his back.

  "Oh…Monica." He groaned his pleasure.

  Without warning, she came undone again. Blinding heat shot outward stripping away the last threads of tension from her body. This climax was heave. And when he joined her with his own release, the simultaneous waves of pure ecstasy took them both. His cock pulsed, filling her with hot seed--streams of it. He fucked her through the aftermath of it all, never letting go, prolonging the best sexual experience she'd had in her life. Even when he sunk against her to catch his breath, his cock remained within her. Semi-erect and semi-hard.

  "That was so
mething else," she panted.

  He breathed heavily against the crevice of her throat. "That means you're pleased, right?"

  She chuckled. "Are you kidding me? That was beyond pleasurable."

  He sighed in relief and then lifted briefly to kiss her. "This is the first time I've ever felt this way about anyone."

  "I'm flattered," she said.

  He started to pull away, but she lured him back into the embrace.

  "Stay here," she said. "You feel so good inside me. So warm."

  Her clit and pussy were still actively pulsing. His cock twitched inside her and his shaft lengthened.

  "Oh…" Monica grinned, surprised by his stamina.

  "I'm getting hard again, Monica. I don't want to hurt you."

  She rolled them over until she was straddling him. "You won't. I can handle this."

  His gaze dropped her breasts and he licked his bottom lip. "Christ, you're hot. I can't believe my luck."

  He grabbed her hips and titled her forward slightly, pushing his cockhead firmly against her G-spot.

  "Oh my God." Her body quaked against him. "I can certainly get used to this."

  "I'm all yours. Take what you need," he told her.

  After several rounds of fucking, they lay on the bed together, listening to their frenzied heartbeats while the thunderstorm raged outside. Before Monica fell asleep that night in Deacon's arms, she knew she belonged with him.

  19

  On Sunday—the morning after--Monica and Deacon woke to the rays of the sun bathing their naked bodies. Her limbs were so sore that it felt like she'd spent hours doing intensive labor. They'd gone at it for several rounds, only stopping when they realized sunrise was only hours away. The man was a sex machine. He even had a hard-on upon rising. After seeing that she was both sore and tired, he told her that he would get cleaned up and make breakfast.

  Something had changed between them. Something had changed about her. She felt it deep down in her soul. Sure, she'd just had the best night of her life, but something else was happening. She couldn't figure out what it was.

  As Monica stood under the hot shower, the heated jet sprays massaged and soothed her aching muscles. She used some of Deacon's shampoo to wash and finger-comb the knots and tangles from her hair. She must have looked a complete and hot mess to Deacon after waking up with matted bed head. Then again, he didn't seem to mind since he had snuggled with her before leaving her to make breakfast.

  Once her thoughts strayed to Deacon and what they did, she couldn't rid her mind of him. And no matter how many times she lathered her body up with soap, after rinsing, she still smelled of Deacon. Of maple and spice. She thought of his lips on her. She thought of his cock in her. She thought of him fucking her. She stood in the shower so long that the water got cold. She hadn't even realized that she'd brought her hands up to caress her nipples.

  What was wrong with her? She'd just had sex about half a dozen times, yet she still wished that Deacon would fuck her again. And again. She needed him worst than she needed that first morning cup of coffee.

  She moved her hand downward until her fingers slipped between the folds of her sex. They were already plump and overworked from last night's round, but still she stroked herself hoping that she could at least satisfy herself to where she wasn't staring at Deacon over the breakfast table like a sex addict.

  "Monica?"

  She jumped when she heard her name.

  "Monica…you okay in there?"

  "Yes," she breathed.

  Deacon's shadow came into view behind the shower curtains. "You sure?"

  "I'm sure." She licked her lips. Even the sound of his voice sent pangs of desire rippling through her.

  "Okay. You left the towel and the other stuff I brought for you on the bed. I was just bringing them inside for you," he exclaimed.

  "Thanks."

  She expected to hear the bathroom door close as he made his exit, but he didn't leave the tiny bathroom. She could feel him and scent him still standing there.

  "Monica…I can take care of that if you need me to."

  "Um…what do you mean?"

  "I'm a wolf. I can smell your need. Not only that, I'm your mate and I've just imprinted on you. I know what you need."

  She swallowed.

  "I need you too, Monica. It's how I know you need me," he said.

  She shivered under the cold water. She reached over, turned off the faucet, and then pulled back the curtains to reveal herself wet and naked in the stall.

  He was in nothing but a pair of loose-fitting polyester shorts. His chest was bare. The hair on his head and on his body were still damp from his shower.

  "I don't know what's going on with me," she said, almost in a whisper. "I'm usually not like this."

  "It's normal. Come here." He offered his hand and when she took it, he gently pulled her out of the shower and into his arms.

  "How is this normal?" she asked.

  "We imprint when we have sex with a person. The imprinting makes them crave us even more. It ensures that we reproduce."

  "Does this have anything to do with the mating thing?" she asked.

  "Imprinting would've happened anyway. But because you're my mate, the imprinting will be permanent. Stronger. Like a bond. It's how I knew you needed me."

  "You mean I'll always be horny for you."

  He chuckled. "And I'll always be horny for you. Works both ways. Can't you tell?"

  His cock was already hard as a rock and pressing against her belly. "Of course I can tell."

  "The imprinting is instant, but most of the time, it takes a little longer for the mate mark to appear."

  "You mean the mark that tells me that we're true mates?"

  He nodded. "But I don't need to see the mate mark to know you're mine. There's no way you could've had those dreams and knew the things you did if you weren't mine."

  Monica held up her left arm. "No mark yet, but I can certainly feel something."

  "It will appear when it's time and wherever it wants to appear. The matching mark might even be hiding in plain sight," he said. "But first, let me take care of you."

  He led her over to the bathroom sink and lifted her up so that she sat on the counter.

  "Deacon, you don't have t--"

  He swallowed her protest by taking her mouth and kissing her deeply. She wound her fingers about his neck and kissed him back. He took his time making love to her with his mouth, kissing her throat, along her shoulders, and then paying the utmost attention to her nipples which were now as hard as thimbles. She had her thighs wrapped around his waist, fully expecting him to fill her pussy and fuck her again. But when he knelt on the bathroom floor and lifted her legs over his shoulders, she discovered that wasn't the case.

  "Open for me." He breathed on the inside of both of her thighs. "Let me eat your sweet pussy and give you the release you crave."

  Monica's sex clenched under his order, but she immediately did what was requested, opening herself to allow him access. She bit back a cry that turned into a strangled plea for pleasure as she felt his long, hot tongue start from the bottom of her pussy and then drag upward until his lips fully covered her clit.

  She twined her fingers with his damp hair, tugging his mouth to her center like an addict needing a fix. He buried his mouth between her nether lips, grabbed her thighs possessively, and lapped at her clit hungrily. The rousing combination had her cream dripping from her and coating his tongue long before she was ready to come. He dipped lower and thrust deep into her, lapping up her nectar as it spilled from her. He seemed to be just as aroused as she was. He moaned, groaned, and hummed his pleasure right into her. She came, waves of ecstasy flooding over her. The climax lasted nearly a minute with Deacon sucking up every last drop of her juices.

  "You taste fucking good, Monica," he said, rising and then shoving his shorts down to the floor.

  "Do I?" She slid down off of the counter and kissed his mouth. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft as t
heir tongues danced.

  "Mmmm," he moaned.

  She knelt in front of him with her hand still on his cock and took him into her greedy mouth. The sound that erupted from him was a mix of pure shock and pleasure. Her lips stretched around his thick cock, sucking him in until he was nearly halfway in her mouth. She released him long enough to snake her tongue up and down the length of him until his shaft was slick and could be easily stroked.

  "Christ, Monica, what are you doing to me?"

  She couldn't speak. She didn't want to because he felt and tasted so good in her mouth. Instead, she looked up and locked gazes with him. She must have been doing something right because his eyes were bright with arousal. She moved her mouth over and over him again until his cockhead was deep in the back of her throat, nearly choking her.

  When his fingers gripped the back of her head, pushing inside of her as far as she could stand, she almost passed out from the gamut of emotions running through her. He pulled back until his cock released from her mouth with a pop. Eager for more of his taste, she continued to lick him with firm strokes of her tongue, grabbing and pumping him from base to tip. His veins pulsed ferociously against her tongue. His balls tightened with each stroke. She lapped up the sweet pre-cum that leaked from him.

  "Ah fuck," he exclaimed. "You're going to fucking make me come."

  She slurped at his cockhead and took most of him into her mouth again. He must have gotten impatient with her, because the next thing she knew he had dragged her upward, turned her around, and bent her forward over the sink. This time, he wasn't gentle. He spread her legs and entered her with a blinding force that took her straight into climax. She grabbed at the counter and threw her hips back, meeting him thrust for thrust, sliding her juicy pussy back and forth over his big solid cock.