Indecent Werewolf Exposure

by Eve Langlais

  When it came time for Pete to drive me home, despite the glasses of wine I’d imbibed, I remained much too aware of him. And by aware, I meant my whole body hummed with anticipation.

  He didn’t say much, but the hand on my leg, the one with the thumb stroking me, effectively let me know he wouldn’t content himself with just a good night kiss. Honestly? I didn’t think a good night kiss would cut it either.

  He pulled into a parking lot across the street from my building and paid the attendant manning the booth. I couldn’t help but notice he paid for more than just an hour.

  I gulped.

  Where was my assertive bitchy side? My sense of indignation at his presumption? I’m sure feminists everywhere would want to slap me silly for not standing up to him and demanding to know who he thought he was, assuming he’d get invited up. How dare he think I’d just fall into his arms and let him have his wicked way?

  To them I said, fuck off.

  I am a modern woman. A horny one. A lucky woman in the presence of a virile male who’d made no bones about the fact he wanted me.

  How much did he want me, how far would he go? I didn’t know or care. Would he call me in the morning or the next day? Again, I didn’t give a damn.

  The only thing I needed to know in that moment was how quickly we could make it to the elevator so I could maul him and get the naked party started. Seriously, after the appetizer of an evening, which I’d spent in a heightened state of awareness, I just wanted some relief.

  As for Anthony? Yeah, I preferred not to dwell on my other suitor. Besides, I’d never agreed to anything exclusive. Just dinner. Besides, didn’t he kind of give me carte blanch?

  Exiting Pete’s truck, I shivered as I stood on the pavement, the cool night air prickling my bare arms. I’d forgotten a sweater in my earlier haste to escape my apartment. I didn’t lament my lack of exterior wear for long. Pete’s warm arm encircled me as he guided me to the main entrance of my condo. I snuggled into him, enjoying his spicy scent comprised of cologne and man. Or, in this case, wolfman.

  Too late it occurred to me to wonder if I needed to worry about him losing control of his furry self and me getting hurt. Would he turn into an animal in the heat of the moment? Guess I’d soon find out.

  To my surprise, he didn’t put any moves on me, even when we got into the elevator and the doors slid shut. Was I mistaken about his intentions? Perhaps he intended to take things slow. To escort me to my door then lope away on his merry way to chase rabbits under the stars.

  I braced myself for a chaste kiss, or a hot one that would leave me in need of a cold shower. As I yanked my keys from pocket, he took them from my damp, shaking hands, unlocking and opening the door for me, ushering me into my own home then shutting the portal behind us.

  Before I could ask him if he wanted a drink, Pete yanked me into his arms, and his lips came crashing down hard against mine.

  Sweet fucking heaven.

  The sudden onslaught left me reeling, in a good way. I clung to his wide shoulders, letting him take possession of my mouth; his passion unleashed a powerful force. When he finally let me up for air, he growled.

  “Finally. I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

  Licking my swollen lips, I peered at him through heavily lidded eyes. “Then why did you wait so long?”

  A boyish grin tilted his lips and my heart hammered in my chest. “Because I knew once I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop.”

  “Says the man talking instead of kissing.” My gift for sarcasm wasn’t completely lost. I’d begun to worry.

  “I’m not taking you in the hall. You deserve better for our first time.”

  Ooh, was this a dig on Anthony? Wait a second, had he guessed or somehow figured out—using his special werewolf sense of smell—that the hall was where I’d screwed the DA? I’d ask later. No use in ruining the mood.

  Linking his callused fingers with mine, he led me to my bedroom, which I allowed. Truthfully, I enjoyed the dominance he insisted on showing. Tough on the outside didn’t mean I didn’t like someone else to take control when it came to sex. Too often my lovers assumed my height and attitude meant I took on an assertive tone in the bedroom. The change in roles, with first Anthony and now Pete, turned me on.

  Once in my room, girly pink heaven replete with a fuchsia comforter trimmed in black stripes, a shocking bright shag rug and a chair shaped like a woman’s high heel, I expected him to turn into an animal and tear my clothes from me.

  Wrong again.

  He lay down in the center of my bed as if he owned it and laced his fingers under his head. Regarding me with half-open eyes, eyes that somehow seemed to glow with a golden light, in a gruff tone, he ordered, “Strip.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said strip. Show me that sexy body of yours. Do it slow.”

  “Just like that?” Under his avid stare? With the lights on and no music playing?

  “Strip.”

  “And what will you be doing?”

  “Watching of course.” He grinned, his teeth flashing white. “And thinking about all the dirty things I am going to do. I’ve fantasized about this moment. Imagined you, naked and wet for me. If you only knew the things I want to do.”

  I couldn’t hide the shudder that went through me at his decadent words. “Such as?”

  “Strip and I’ll tell you.”

  Out of my comfort zone, and yet oddly turned on by his demand, I let my trembling fingers undo the loops of the first button on my blouse then the second.

  “That’s it, baby. Show me those perky tits of yours.”

  “Is perky another word for small?” I laughed, high-pitched in order to hide my embarrassment. I didn’t have major boob action going. Good bras made it seem like I owned a C, but, in truth, I barely filled a B cup.

  “You are the perfect size. A handful for me to grab and squeeze. Can you imagine my hands cupping you as my mouth devours your perfect nipples?”

  My breathing hitched as my fingers continued to unbutton. “Who says I have perfect nipples?”

  “I do. And I’m going to enjoy sucking on them until they are tight buds.” My shirt split apart, revealing the roundness of my stomach and the edges of my bra. “Take it off.”

  I let the silk slide from my shoulders, revealing my black lace bra. I couldn’t hold his intent stare and dropped my gaze, only to have it snagged on the massive bulge pushing at the front of his pants. Good grief. How big was he?

  “Take off your bra. Show me your breasts.”

  Feeling at a disadvantage, I countered. “Isn’t it your turn to take something off?”

  He chuckled, the sexy sound tickling me. Goose bumps rose on my skin. “Fair enough.”

  Off came his shirt. My turn to stare and drool. Holy shit, the man was built like a god, a thick, body-building one. Tanned with bulging muscles, his chest had dark curly hair, which started up high between his pecs then narrowed down in a vee until it hit his waist and disappeared into his pants.

  A quiver down south sent warm wetness to soak my already moist panties.

  “Your turn,” he growled.

  My fingers fumbled at the clasp to my bra. It took me several tries before I managed to unhook it. I let it fall away and stood, shoulders back, my confidence returning under his ardent appraisal. Despite what I felt were shortcomings, how could I not feel beautiful when his words and his body’s reactions said otherwise?

  “Damn, baby. I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

  A small shudder went through me at his ardent words. “So why don’t you?”

  “Because you’re not done stripping yet.”

  Was that all it would take for him to soothe the ache between my thighs?

  I removed my pants quickly until I stood in only my panties. His breathing turned harsh. Panting. In that moment, I felt all-powerful. Sexy and sensual. Desirable.

  I hooked my thumbs onto the elastic waist of my undies. I shimmied them down, glad I’d at least
recently trimmed my girl parts, pretty certain at this point that he wouldn’t care. My panties made it to the swell of my hips before he sprang from the bed.

  I shrieked in surprise. He swallowed the sound with his lips. His callused fingers roamed my bare skin, heightening my arousal, making my need unbearable. Their journey already started, my undies finished their downward slide to pool around my feet, and I kicked them away while my hands wedged between our bodies to work at the closure of his jeans.

  “Don’t,” he panted. “I want you too bad. Let me take care of you first.”

  “Um, what do you think I’m doing?”

  “You’ll get that after. I want a taste.”

  He no sooner mentioned it than I found myself on my back on the bed, my legs up over his shoulders, his face between my thighs.

  Sweet freaking heaven. He went after my pussy with erotic intent, his moist tongue lapping me from my clit to the end of my cleft. Long wet strokes that had me writhing on my sheets, my fingers clawing and grasping as I tried to buck under the intense pleasure.

  He didn’t relent. He held me pinned, his tongue flicking my swollen nub until I screamed for mercy. Had I not come so many times the night before, I would have exploded then and there, but my body managed to hold on. Until he thrust two fingers into my quivering channel.

  “Oh my fucking gawd.” Yeah, I might have screamed it. How could I not when my orgasm crashed over me with unexpected power? I keened as he continued to bathe my clit with his mouth as his fingers pumped me, drawing out my climax.

  I saw spots and I lacked the breath to speak. I could only draw ragged breaths. He relented, and I struggled to regain my senses, my body a shuddering mass of jelly. Something hard poked at my sex. I managed to open my eyes and oh my, what a sight.

  Holding himself up on those muscled arms, Pete loomed over me, his eyes blazing with golden fire, his skin sheened in a light sweat, his dark hair flopping sexily over his forehead. The nudge between my thighs grew more insistent and I raised my hips, taking the tip of him in me. With a growl, he thrust.

  I found enough breath to scream. Not in pain. I mean, yes, his thickness stretched me. Yes, I still throbbed from my orgasm, but damn it all, with him seated inside me, greedy wench that I was, I wanted more.

  “Fuck me.”

  He growled again and, for a moment, his expression seemed more beast than man. It should have frightened me, but being a horny bitch, it turned me on. A quiver went through my pussy, and I knew he felt it by the way his head went back.

  “Fuck me,” I demanded again.

  “Demanding wench,” he grunted through a clenched jaw.

  “Horny one,” I gasped as he withdrew then slammed back in.

  “I should be giving the orders,” he grumbled, thrusting in and out.

  “You were taking too long. Now shut up and give it to me!” I yelled as he began to piston me, his hard body slamming into mine, driving deep. I clung to him and enjoyed the ride. What else could I do with so many pounds of raw sexual energy between my thighs?

  Pete pumped me, his thick cock stretching me nicely, decadently. His lips caught mine in a torrid embrace, our teeth clashing as our panting breaths mingled, the wildness of our coupling rendering us frantic.

  My desire coiled tight, a spring ready to pop. My muscles clenched, tighter and tighter, until he fought my suctioning flesh, each stroke out making me cry, each thrust in making me scream. When I finally crested, I might have shattered glass, so loudly did I exclaim my enjoyment to the world. The muscles of my pussy milked him and with a primal howl, Pete joined me in orgasmic bliss.

  Then squashed me flat as his mighty body collapsed upon mine in a heaving, sweaty mess.

  7

  “Get off,” I squeaked. Shoving at the giant male squashing me, Pete regained enough of his wits—not many due to the lack of blood to his brain—to roll off me.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  My reply? A giggle. I’d never had a man collapse atop me before so obviously spent and sexually sated. I almost beat my chest caveman style, but I had more class than that. I smirked instead.

  As I lay there panting and recovering, for the second time in as many days, a horrifying realization struck me. I’d done it again. “You forgot to put on a condom!”

  “I’m clean. Lycans don’t carry STDs.”

  “But you can make babies,” I snapped. Never mind my birth control, it annoyed me to realize that he’d frazzled me enough to make me forget. Again.

  “Speaking of which, how many would you like?”

  Good thing I was lying down already, else I might have fallen.

  Please tell me he’s joking.

  I propped myself up to peek at him and caught the big grin on his face. Mini heart attack averted, I frowned. “That was not funny.”

  “Sorry. I guess you didn’t know my kind can tell when a woman is on the pill. Your scent is different.”

  Disturbing and reassuring at the same time. “Has anyone ever told you that the whole smell thing is freaky? I mean, now you’ve got me paranoid about stinking.”

  “We don’t perceive odors the same way humans do. To us, they are a unique mark of a person.”

  “Or a sign they haven’t bathed.”

  He laughed. “Think of your scent as a fingerprint. Bathed or not, perfumed, sweaty, it doesn’t matter. Everyone’s scent is different. Some, I’ll admit, are more appealing than others. Like yours, for instance.”

  “I smell good?”

  “Better than good. From the first moment I got a whiff, I’ve wanted to taste you.”

  “So I’m the equivalent of a freshly baked cookie to you?”

  “Yummier.”

  As compliments went, I could live with it. “Since you’re on the topic, what else should I know about Lycans? You won’t bite me, will you, and mark me as your bitch?”

  “No,” he said with a snort. “Nor will you turn into a wolf or catch a disease or anything else the crazy media has mistakenly mentioned over the years. Lycans are born, not made.”

  “Good to know. And other than the whole furry thing and smelling, what other special powers do you have?”

  “We recuperate quickly.” He rolled until he caged my body, his upper arms holding him over me, the hard head of his prick poking.

  Lucky for me, it turned out, when it came to sex with the right guy, I could go again too.

  * * *

  The warm sunlight bathing my face woke me and I stretched under my sheets, my muscles pleasantly sore. Again.

  Fuck!

  In vivid detail, I remembered the events of the night before. The passion. The wild sex. The out-of-this-world orgasms. And with a werewolf of all things.

  What the hell was happening to me? First Anthony. Then Pete. Who would I screw next? An itty-bitty fairy? The mailman?

  Forget Godzilla destroying the city. Here comes Chloe on an uncontrollable nympho rampage. Put in your earplugs, tie down the breakables because my screaming orgasms are a force to be reckoned with. Also very addictive.

  I finally understood why some people craved sex so much. With the right person, or people, it was freaking amazing. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d climaxed before. I had plenty of experience, but the sex with Anthony and Pete… It blew those experiences away.

  We were talking the hurricane of orgasms instead of a gentle spring shower. Just thinking about the things they did to my body and how I’d responded, a wild woman with no inhibitions.

  Surely that wasn’t a twinge of lust. Surely my pussy didn’t need more attention? Greedy thing. I would have slapped it if I didn’t think it would enjoy it so much.

  Despite all the sex, I wanted more. I might have even begged for it had I woken beside my newest lover. Fuck me. My second lover in two days. I am such a slut.

  At least I didn’t have to face my newest furry embarrassment. Like Anthony, Pete seemed to have vanished in the night. Whether or not he’d return, like a dog with a stick, remained to be se
en.

  I’d certainly never expected Mr. Hotshot DA to come back for seconds. Given that unexpected twist, I no longer wanted to wager the same on Pete, although, I could probably safely bet that Anthony wouldn’t come sniffing around anymore now that Pete staked his claim.

  But only if Anthony finds out.

  What was I thinking? I didn’t want one man in my life, let alone two. However, I couldn’t deny I’d never felt more sexually satisfied. And, hey, the law did say women should do their part to keep the male population content. Of course, they meant by marrying them and popping out babies. I didn’t intend to go that far, but at least by fucking them, I was practicing the whole procreation bit. Some could even say I studied hard.

  Damn, I’d have to remember to tell that to Brenda later when she bugged me. I bet she’d find that outrageously funny. I know I did.

  Enough of that. Time to greet the day. Or late morning at least, judging by the light flooding my room. I flung the sheets back, the air of my room kissing my naked body and raising bumps on my skin.

  “Well, good morning to me,” a husky voice said.

  Yeah, I screamed like a little girl. Or a woman who just about pissed herself as Pete’s voice rumbled from the doorway to my room.

  It appeared as if I’d erred in thinking he’d left because there he leaned against the doorjamb, a pair of steaming mugs in hand, wearing only a pair of boxers. Low-hanging, thigh-hugging, erection-clinging boxers. I was pretty sure the shudder that went through my pussy was a mini orgasm. No man should ever look that hot in the morning.

  “What are you doing?” I blurted out.

  “Other than admiring the view? Bringing you coffee. I wasn’t sure how you liked it, though, so it’s black. Do you want me to add some cream and sugar?”

  I already had enough cream pooling between my thighs, thank you very much. As for sugar, my mouth watered for something a little more tart and meaty. I really needed to do something about the nympho thing I had going on. It just wasn’t natural for me to lust like a bitch in heat. Great, now I couldn’t help but picture myself on my hands and knees getting it from Pete as he howled.