Book Read Free

Would You Trust a Werewolf?

Page 3

by Brown, Berengaria


  Realizing it was his wolf senses that had noted the hint of approaching snow, Cord let his mind turn again to the thought of Dillon. Was Dillon a shifter? Dillon adamantly described himself as human, but Cord had always had the feeling that their attraction was not just sexual, but something more than just that. Deep inside Cord was hoping that Dillon was the one for him. Certainly Dillon seemed to recognize the attraction.

  While mating with another wolf was the ideal, many partnerships between wolves and humans, or wolves and other beings worked out happily. Rather like human marriages. If the partners were committed to each other, they’d find a way to make sure the relationship functioned effectively and they got their happily ever after. Hmm, Happily Ever After. Yes, Cord would like that with Dillon.

  Cord poured himself a second cup of coffee and rested his eyes on the mountains. It felt so good to be out of the city and away from all the holiday hype. For the first time in what seemed like a month, his skin didn’t feel too tight on him, and his head wasn’t aching. But it was hard to be angry at the season when it was the reason Dillon would be spending time with him. A whole week together. Absolutely heavenly.

  ****

  Dillon’s feelings were roller-coasting from excitement and delight at being alone with Cord for a week, to “what the fuck were you thinking of, agreeing to stay with a wolf”. Shona had tried to get him to tell her about Cord, but he couldn’t. Not just because he wanted some privacy, but also because he really didn’t know. Well, he did care about Cord. Nothing made his pulse beat faster than the sight of him. But a relationship? With a wolf? Oh, yeah now that was different. Can I do it? Do I want to try? Hell if I know!

  Dillon drove slowly up the bumpy track to the vacation cabin, seeing the curl of smoke from the chimney, which told him Cord was already there. His whole body throbbed with desire when he thought of Cord. The man just had to touch him and he was ready to explode. It’d be a miracle if they even got out of bed, this week! He was looking forward to more orgasms than he could count.

  He stopped his car beside Cord’s truck and looked up at the porch. Cord was sitting there, legs stretched out, feet on the railing, the absolute picture of sex. Instantly Dillon’s cock stood up and tried to climb out of his pants. Down boy! he thought, sliding out of the car and popping the trunk to get his luggage.

  Cord came down the steps to help him, and very soon he was settled inside. There was no need for words. They both knew exactly what they wanted. Cord grabbed a couple of cushions off the couch and dropped them on the rug in front of the fire. Dillon nodded and pulled his sweater off, then toed off his boots, before removing the rest of his clothing.

  Cord disappeared for a few minutes, then returned wearing only his jeans and carrying a tube of lube and a string of condoms.

  Dillon smiled, laying back on the rug, a cushion under his head, his legs wide apart, feet planted flat on the floor.

  Cord pushed another cushion under Dillon’s ass and they both grinned. “See anything you like?” Dillon asked cheekily.

  “I don’t see anything I don’t like,” Cord replied.

  “Well then, what are you waiting for?” Dillon asked, letting one hand stroke down his torso until it rested on his cock. He gaze fixed on Cord’s, Dillon tugged on his cock, slowly pulling it from root to tip, root to tip.

  “Damn that’s hot,” whispered Cord, opening the lube and squeezing a little onto two fingers.

  Now it was Dillon’s turn to watch, as Cord slowly rubbed the fingers around his asshole, massaging the tight muscles, then letting just the tip of his fingers slip inside.

  Dillon’s gaze was on Cord’s face. He had the most expressive face, his features never still, with sparkling eyes alight with the lust of the moment. Watching Cord’s face while feeling the man’s fingers broaching Dillon’s most sensitive place was beyond erotic.

  On the one hand, Dillon wanted Cord in his ass, pounding away, right now. On the other, they had a whole week, so it would be good to go slowly and savor each step of the journey. Keeping his gaze fixed on Cord, Dillon tugged his cock again and again. Very, very slowly, he gripped his erection and pulled up the full length of the shaft.

  “Let me,” said Cord.

  Dillon moved his hand.

  Instead of using a hand, Cord bent over and sucked Dillon’s dick deep into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth.

  Oh hell, that’s hot! Dillon groaned at the wonderful feeling of his cock being swallowed by his lover. He desperately wanted to thrust deep and hard, but he also wanted this to last. They’d had speed sex last time. This time he wanted long, slow loving. They had a week together, long enough for all the orgasms they could imagine.

  Then Cord was half kneeling over him, Cord’s mouth sucking hard on Dillon’s cock, and Cord’s fingers deep in Dillon’s ass. Of their own volition, Dillon’s hips thrust up into Cord’s face, then his ass pressed back onto Cord’s fingers. Within a few seconds they were both pumping frantically. Dillon’s hips thrusting and snapping up and down, Cord’s fingers twisting and turning, stroking very inch of Dillon’s most sensitive internal flesh.

  And all the while Cord was licking along Dillon’s cock, teasing the head, scraping his teeth over it, tormenting the sensitive ridge where head and shaft joined.

  “Oh! It’s too much. I’m gonna come,” wailed Dillon.

  “Come then,” urged Cord, pinging Dillon’s prostate.

  “Shit!” screamed Dillon, as his cocked jerked and sprayed his cum into Cord’s mouth. Cord licked and sucked, matching his movements to the ragged thrusts of Dillon’s hips.

  Just as Dillon was catching his breath, Cord pulled off his jeans and slammed his own cock into Dillon’s rear entryway. Cord grabbed Dillon’s hips, flung Dillon’s legs up over his shoulders, and began jack-hammering into Dillon’s ass.

  Cord set a fast and furious pace, hips, knees and hands all moving at warp speed as his dick powered in and out of Dillon’s ass. Unbelievably, Dillon’s own cock remained half-hard.

  Dillon had just had a massive orgasm, but his cock was ready for more, sitting up and waving at the activity.

  Cord took one hand off Dillon’s hips and began pulling on Dillon’s cock. “Come on. Come again,” he ordered.

  “I can’t. I’ve never… Not so soon.”

  “Well someone here sure thinks you can,” said Cord, tugging even harder on Dillon’s cock.

  Dillon widened his legs, planting his feet flat on the floor once again, thrusting his hips up rhythmically in time with Cord’s movements. His spine was already tingling and he could tell by the intent expression on Cord’s face that his partner was holding on, willing Dillon to come again.

  Their bodies moved in unison, hips thrusting, muscles tensing and relaxing, both of them sweating now with the exercise.

  “Yes, yes,” he whispered, feeling the climax building inside him.

  “Now!” ordered Cord, slamming his cock deep and hard into Dillon and blasting his own cum in the condom.

  Dillon found Cord’s take-charge attitude sexy, and the understanding of how Cord had deferred his own release waiting for Dillon was a genuine turn-on. Dillon’s second climax roared over him, cum spurting out of his cock over both their bodies.

  Then Cord was lying over him, their hearts pounding together, their bodies sweaty and sticky as they cuddled together.

  “Wow! What a way to start a vacation,” Dillon gasped.

  Chapter Four

  The next few days were filled with hikes up into the nearby hills, cooking over the open fire, sitting on the porch relaxing and talking, and more sex than Cord could recall having since he was a young man. Better sex than ever before too. Cord’s skin itched infrequently and his head hardly ached at all. He was more relaxed now than on his usual Christmas vacations.

  “It’s having you here. You’re relaxing me and helping me overcome the holiday allergy,” he said to Dillon.

  “Do many werewolves have a reaction, or allergy, or whatever it is, to
the holidays?” asked Dillon.

  “I don’t really know. I’ve never lived with a pack. My family is scattered. I think the term ‘lone wolf’ applies to them. We tend to come together for Thanksgiving, but for most of us, one day together is about all we can take. Email suits us better. We can catch up on the news without having to put up with people’s boring conversation or bad habits!”

  “Plenty of human families don’t get on too well together either. I love Shona’s kids but they’re so loud and energetic. Nothing is safe anywhere near them. I’m happy enough not to spend too long in their company, although I can see that in perhaps five years or so I’ll be able to do things with them that could be fun. Take them hiking in a place like this where we could walk for a couple hours then come home and sit by the fire. That would be a lot more enjoyable than sitting around a meal table with them.”

  “Dillon, you said you were human. Then you said you’d never shifted. Is there some shifter in your family tree somewhere?” Cord asked. He kept his gaze fixed on his lover. He wanted to be with Dillon, and whether Dillon was human, shifter, or a mixture really didn’t matter. But he still would like to know. In fact, he wanted to know everything about this man he was fast coming to love.

  Dillon stared at Cord, and Cord could almost see the wheels and cogs of thought processes moving in his head. Dillon’s fingers were rolling his little stress ball in his jeans pocket. Cord had quickly come to recognize the signs that Dillon was stressed or thinking.

  Finally Dillon sighed and said, “I’ve never told anyone this before. My mother’s father was a werewolf. My mother can shift and change and she used to go running at night occasionally. Maybe a handful of times a year, but she almost never seems to anymore. Shona never showed any signs of inheriting the shifter trait, and she hasn’t said anything about the children so I’m guessing they didn’t get it either.”

  “And what about you?”

  “I shifted involuntarily once as a young teenager. Just in my room. I’ve never done it again. Couple of times I’ve had the urge, really wanted to run, but I refuse to succumb to it.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why don’t you want to explore that part of yourself?”

  “Why would I want to get all furry and wild and uncontrolled? Why would I want to run around biting people turning them into something they’re not?”

  Pain ripped through Cord, almost making him collapse. “Is that what you think? You think I’ll be uncontrolled and force you to be and do something you don’t want?”

  “Have you ever bitten anyone?”

  “Of course not. I’ve never shot anyone, or murdered them with an ax either.”

  “Don’t be silly. Of course you haven’t shot people.”

  “Well why do you think wolves go around biting people, yet not knifing them?”

  “I…” Dillon sat silently for a long time. Cord’s heart was aching, breaking, the pain so intense he felt weak. Could Dillon really think he was less than human? Unable to act like a mature and responsible adult? How could they have any kind of relationship at all without trust?

  “Werewolves do bite people sometimes don’t they? People who don’t want to be bitten. People get turned when they don’t want that.”

  Cord moved so he was facing Dillon directly. “I don’t know of anyone personally who has done that, or had it happen to them. But I expect it has happened sometime, somewhere. But then people get murdered every day. A stranger comes into their apartment or their workplace, and runs around with guns, or knives, or an ax, or a Samurai sword, and people die. There are bad people out there. They aren’t just wolves.”

  “So you’re saying that even if you had sex under a Christmas tree, surrounded by tinsel and holiday lights, you could be certain you’d never bite anyone.”

  “Absolutely. I was taught not to bite as a small child, just like humans are taught not to bite. Think of it like potty training. Very few people would pee in public. They have control over themselves. Occasionally people do, if they are drugged or drunk. So if a wolf is drugged or drunk, likely you might need to be careful. But in normal situations they’re control of their urges.”

  Dillon nodded. “Okay I can see the logic there. But the whole scenario of changing shapes is too much for me to think about.”

  “All right then. Why don’t we walk up to the lookout before cooking some supper?” But inside, Cord’s heart was aching that Dillon would think such things of weres, would loathe his heritage so much that he could mistrust wolves so vehemently. How would they be happy, how could there be a genuine relationship at all, without trust?

  ****

  Dillon knew what he’d said had wounded Cord, but it had to be said. There was no way he could be with a werewolf without making it clear he was not going to participate in biting rituals, not going to run around hairy and howling at the moon.

  But as they hiked—silently today instead of with their usual light chatter about the weather, the scenery and anything else that occurred to them—he thought about his family. He knew his mom had never bitten anyone, and he was reasonably certain his grandfather never had either. Was he really just mixing up fact and fiction?

  For the first time since he’d been a young adult Dillon forced himself to be coldly analytical about the one time he’d turned. Puberty was traditionally a time when young adults were full of rampaging hormones. He had frightened himself by turning without consciously making the decision to be a wolf. But if he was truly honest with himself, likely he had been thinking about it. Certainly he hadn’t been masturbating to a man or a woman or a picture. He’d been thinking about himself and his abilities and needs.

  So had his testosterone-fuelled body taken his thoughts as the cue to turn? He’d sure as hell frightened the shit out of himself doing it. It’d killed his erection stone dead too. But at no stage had he been fueled with a need to run around biting someone. No. He’d stood and looked at himself in the mirror, and probably in a rather narcissistic way, since he’d considered he was rather a handsome-looking wolf.

  Then he’d gotten his head on straight, changed back, and sworn never to change again.

  But had he over-reacted? Had his youthful shock changed the whole event into something that would prevent him being happy with someone he really related to on every level. Someone with whom he might even find his own happily ever after?

  What Cord had said did make sense. It also fit with the experiences of his own family. There’d never been any pressure on any of them to be wolves, any more than there’d been pressure to be a doctor or a football star. The family had very much let each child choose their own path.

  So was it time he grew up, accepted his wolf genes, and permitted himself to change? This mountainside cottage would be the perfect place to do it, away from the city, and in the company of another wolf.

  Or would that be making a very bad decision? He was managing just fine as a human. Wasn’t he? Well no, perhaps he wasn’t. Such a vehement rejection of part of himself was likely not good for his ongoing mental health and for him to be a fully rounded person.

  Well damn! Being an adult was full of difficult decisions.

  They reached the top of the hill and sat on a rock looking out over mile after mile of trees.

  “See the lake?” said Cord pointing to a tiny lake tucked between two smaller hills.

  “Oh yes. It’s pretty.”

  Changing the topic Dillon asked hesitantly, “If I wasn’t here would you change into your wolf and go for a run?”

  “Yes, I probably would. When I go to a beach, I can run along the sand in human form and people accept that as normal behavior, but here there’s nowhere really for a person to run. The tracks are pretty narrow and a human is likely to twist an ankle running on them. But as a wolf I can run freely.”

  “What about when you’re at home. Do you run as a wolf?”

  “Not very often. Again, if I need to run, I can run on the athletics tra
ck or around the park. Sometimes I just have the urge to be a wolf, to experience all the heightened sounds and senses I have in wolf form, but most of the time I’m very happy as a human.”

  “What about fucking? Do you fuck in wolf form?”

  “No I never have. That’s part of the mating ritual. We fuck in human form and in wolf form on the same night, under a full moon. Until I’m ready to mate for life I won’t do that.”

  “What if—What if I wanted to come running with you. As a wolf?”

  “Dillon? Would you? Despite how you feel about werewolves?” Cord’s eyes were full of hope and love. Dillon knew he’d hurt Cord, knew he felt a strong link to this man, possibly even loved him. He knew it was time to move forward in this relationship.

  “I think it’s time I grew up. Started acting like a man instead of a frightened teenager. I think I’d like to change and try out being a wolf.”

  “I’d be honored to accompany you on your first run,” said Cord seriously.

  “So I guess we have to undress first.”

  “Yes. Our clothes should be perfectly safe up here. We haven’t seen another person the entire time we’ve been at the cabin.”

  Quickly they undressed and Dillon watched Cord morph into a huge black wolf. For a moment he wondered how he’d do the change, then simply thought about that wolf he’d seen in the mirror, and the change rolled across him.

  Cord raised his head, yipped at him, then started running straight down the side of the hill. Dillon followed him. For the next hour they ran steadily through the trees and it was only when Dillon smelled the water of the lake he realized where Cord was leading them.

  They played on the sandy shore, rolling in the sand, and running in out of the tiny wavelets, before they lay panting side by side on the grass under a large tree.

  Cord changed back into human form, so Dillon did too.

 

‹ Prev