by Anh Leod
“Oh God,” she moaned, feeling his sleek shaft press into her. Her insides began to quiver, as if she were ready to come. “I can hardly move, this feels so good.”
“I can fix that.” He put his hands under her miniskirt and pulled her hips down.
She gasped. His long length engorged her pussy and she wept juices around him, lubricating the shaft. His hips began to piston and she bounced up and down with his rhythm, moaning with each stroke.
“Who needs happily-ever-after when you can have this!” She reached out to get a grip on something, feeling like her spiraling pleasure was costing her balance. A honk startled her.
Cere laughed, the rumbling of his body causing ripples of movement between her thighs. “Don’t hit the horn or we’ll get company. The trails aren’t that private.”
“Right.” She put her hands back on his chest and tried to find her rhythm again.
He thrust harder into her, so deep she was sure he touched her womb. She lost all ability to speak at that point and communicated her extreme pleasure with grunts. Desperate to touch more of him, she bent over, feeling his cock vibrate in new places inside her. She ran her locks across his chest, the brunette of her hair mixing with his copper curls.
The smell of their arousal, of sex, filled the cab of the truck. Vi gasped for breath in the steamy heat enveloping her. Shaking, she held on tightly, grinding against him like he was her only touch point in a world gone mad. As her body exploded into a shuddering orgasm, she keened, “He was right!”
Cere kept pumping as she went limp above him. Each thrust of his cock made her pussy twitch with intense aftershocks almost as powerful as her original soaring peak. When she came back to herself, his harsh breathing told her he was close. He nearly howled, jetting his cum with such force she wondered if the condom had held. Her body exploded into another orgasm.
It hadn’t held. Thank God Randy had asked her to go on the Pill during their first year of marriage. A few moments later, after Cere had ripped off the torn condom and apologizing, pulled her into his arms, he asked, “What did you mean?”
“About what?” Vi snuggled against his solid, warm shoulder, enjoying the rich smell of his work-toughened skin.
“You said ‘He was right’. What did that mean?”
Vi rubbed her nose against him. “My fiancé called off our wedding this morning.”
He shifted his pelvis and his penis slipped out of her. “When were you getting married?”
Had she scared him away? “Tomorrow.”
He turned on the seat, so that he faced her. “I’m so sorry.”
She could see the honest emotion in his eyes. “It’s okay. I think it was for the best.”
“So why was he right?”
“He said it was over because of the sex. He decided we were boring together.” She put her hand to his temple and ran her fingers through the coarse, curly hair on his scalp. “Now that we did it, I can see Randy’s point.”
“Did he cheat on you?”
She pressed her lips together, not wanting to kill her post-orgasm mood with talk of her almost-husband. “Yes, but I don’t want to talk about it now.”
“You want me to find him for you, teach him a lesson?”
She smiled. “Very funny.”
He raised himself on his elbow. “I’m not kidding. We take care of men who disrespect their mates where I come from.”
She put her arms around his neck and hugged him close. “I appreciate that and your offer. But he’s not worth it.”
Cere swore, making her giggle.
“Would you take me back now?” she asked. “I have a ton of presents to return and I’m sure you have to get back to work.”
“Yeah.” His lithe body came off the seat in a fluid movement and he bent to pick up his clothes.
They dressed in silence. Vi had never hooked up before, wasn’t sure what to say.
He drove her back, then exchanged her spare tire with the repaired one, despite her protests that he’d done too much already.
“It’s no problem,” he told her, but Barkley came to stand on the other side of the chain link fence and looked curiously at them.
“Sorry,” Vi called, wishing their interlude hadn’t ended so abruptly. “He’ll be there in a minute. It’s my fault we took so long.”
A corner of Cere’s mouth tilted in a grin. “And my pleasure.”
“I can smell her on you, Cerberus,” Barkley told him as he unlocked the gate and let him in.
Cere shrugged. “She wanted to fuck.” Among his people, sex was a casual thing, but he was surprised to find a human who felt the same way as the Brotherhood, especially since she’d wanted to fuck face-to-face.
The stern look in Barkley’s dark eyes stilled Cere. “You know she is your true mate, right?” the older man asked. “I can smell the link on you.”
“What?” Cere felt a little sick. Barkley had the ability to sense true mates, he knew, but he hadn’t considered the possibility for a second when he agreed to fuck the woman. “I don’t even know her name.”
“If I know bitches, she’ll have left her mark somewhere,” the older man told him.
“Don’t call her that,” Cere cautioned. “It may not be an insult in our culture, but it is in hers.”
Barkley shrugged. “She’s your mate. She’ll have to learn the ways of the Brotherhood.”
“Assuming she wants a óêõëß for a mate.”
“There’s no other choice for her now. You have a duty to mate with the one female who can successfully bear your young.”
Cere waved a hand uneasily and went back to fixing the asphalt roller. Barkley had never been wrong about a mate before, but shouldn’t he have sensed the connection himself? Of course, he had mated with her, something he’d never done with a human stranger before. Her beauty had been so enticing. Wasn’t that all the justification he needed? Her body was tight and muscled like a greyhound, her beautiful, breast-length brunette hair more beautiful than any chocolate Labrador Retriever’s coat. Never for a moment had he thought she was fated to be his for their lifetime. In fact, he’d always hoped his mate was a member of his pack, so they’d both enjoy the same long lifespan. There were few women however and he’d never been interested in more than a few weeks’ companionship with any of his pack females, had never mated with them in human form. That was considered a sign of serious attachment, since most humans mated face-to-face, unlike dogs.
How would this human woman react when he told her he was descended from a Greek werewolf pack? Many generations later, his people had intermingled with humans so many times that they considered themselves quite domesticated, hence their tribe being called the Brotherhood of the Dog in honor of their friendship with humankind. They could mostly control their transformations and behavior even under the moon.
After his shift was over, he went to his truck and drove to the house where he shared quarters with several littermates. When he reached to grab his lunchbox his hand instead came back with a handful of cloth.
He recognized the woman’s panties and brought them to his nose for a sniff. Barkley had been right about her leaving her mark. The arousal still evident in the cloth hardened his cock and his resolve to find her. Examining the cloth, he discovered the word “Bride” was emblazoned across the front in tiny rhinestones and underneath was the word “Vi”—her name? He now had more knowledge than before.
Inside the house, he started calling churches. Twenty minutes later, he had her name, Vi Lane and an earful of sympathy for his mate from the secretary who told him of the wedding’s tragic cancellation.
It wasn’t tragic, he told himself. His mate had nearly been lost to him before she’d been found. He’d never had such a lucky break.
He looked her up in the phone book and dialed her number. Was she ready for a permanent mating so soon after the blow she’d had? He’d have to persuade her she was.
Vi’s voice was on her voicemail, though she didn’t answer.
/> “Hi, Vi, it’s Cere,” he said. “Hope you don’t mind my call. I figured out your name from the, ummm, property you left in my car. Come by my worksite tomorrow, would you? I’d love to see you again. And,” he paused, “thank you for today. I hope you enjoyed yourself as much as I did.”
He hung up the phone, feeling like an idiot. Anyway, she was probably avoiding calls after her wedding mishap. Soon however, she’d be faced with the truth. He couldn’t let her out of his life.
Late that night, Vi arrived home from a long afternoon returning gifts to a department store in a mall outside Seattle. Depressed and near tears, she poured herself a large glass of wine before braving the telephone. All she wanted to do was get in the tub and relive the one good part of her day, the fling in the truck with that construction worker. But first, to get it over with, she tacked her voicemail.
After three condolences messages, she heard a voice that put chills down her spine. Cere.
Vi hung up the phone, bemused by his message. Oddly, she wasn’t at all bothered by his call or the fact he’d tracked her down. She was glad he had done so. Certainly visiting him tomorrow would take her mind off the wedding that wasn’t taking place. Randy had delayed their honeymoon because it was tax season, so there wasn’t even a trip to look forward to, nice though it would have been to get out of town. She’d have changed his ticket to her sister’s name and gone anyway if they’d planned one. For that matter, maybe she’d have taken Cere!
She imagined that taut, muscular body stretched out on a towel next to her under the hot Mexican sun, gleaming with lotion and sweat. Her clit twitched in response to the image. Too bad he hadn’t left a phone number. She’d have called him back and invited him over.
Instead of using the bathtub for relaxation, she poured herself a second glass of wine, then dug into the back of her walk-in closet to find the vibrator she’d hidden from Randy. The plastic tool wouldn’t do the job Cere had done on her today, but she’d certainly have fun reliving the memory of his huge cock pounded into her from below as she’d rocked on his hips. The thought made her pussy fill with cream. She wouldn’t need any lube to glide the vibrator home tonight.
Chapter Two
Vi parked down the street from the strip mall construction site, no longer sure she was doing the right thing. Sure, she had stocked up on extra-large condoms at the drugstore on the way here and she was wearing a black mini-dress without panties for access, but sex with the same man two days in a row felt like she was jumping right back into a relationship. Was that really wise?
On the other hand, she really wanted to fuck him. Cere was, well, amazing. He had blown her mind in a way she hadn’t thought possible. She was used to little fluttering orgasms, warm feelings, supplemented by the occasional more intense though briefer orgasm provided by her vibrator. Cere was truly lucky number seven, her seventh lover.
She stepped out of her car resolutely. After what she had been through with her ex, she deserved this. Her pussy creamed at the idea of experiencing lucky seven again.
The gate was chained so she peered through the metal links of the fence. Several men in hard hats were visible. All appeared to be taller than average and none wore coats despite the unseasonable June chill. The man closest to her walked by with two large propane bottles on his shoulders. She wouldn’t have thought any one man could carry multiple bottles.
The man nodded in response to her wave and gave a shout in the direction of a small group of workers focused around a depression in the dirt. A moment later, Cere detached himself from the group and came toward her.
His taut, muscular body moved easily, the strength evident in his loose, confident stride.
Vi pressed her thighs together to contain the ripples of excitement that had her feeling faint with anticipation.
“Hey,” he said in greeting. The men must have been digging. Cere had a streak of dirt on one cheek, which only served to highlight his cheekbones and his tight tan canvas pants were muddy at the knees. He only wore a T-shirt today under an orange safety vest and she well knew his muscles were earned by hard work rather than in a gym.
Damn. She licked her lips, painted cherry red for the occasion, not sure if she could speak coherently with the lust crowding reason from her brain. “Hey back.”
“You got my message?” He put a work-glove-covered hand on one hip, used the other to take off his hard hat and wipe his forehead.
How had she gotten so lucky? In all her twenty-four years, she’d never seen such a prime male specimen and yet he was the first man she’d met after Randy’s betrayal. “Yes. I thought this might be your lunchtime.”
He nodded. “I’m glad you came by. I…I was afraid you wouldn’t.”
She sensed he was nervous, a far cry from his businesslike competence of the day before. Could she set him at ease? She entwined her fingers in the chain links at the level of his pecs. Her fingernails were freshly painted and she hoped the polish was dry by now. Playing the role of temptress was easier than trying to find a genuine connection with her lucky seven lover.
She breathed out of her nose and counted to five to quiet herself, then spoke in a low, seductive voice. “I remember you telling me your truck had a bed.”
He half turned his head away from her, but she could see his grin. “Yeah.”
“I noticed you had a topper on it. Might give us some privacy.”
“Uh-huh.” He turned back to her, his eyes creasing with amusement. “Might be a little rough though. Not much padding in that kind of bed.”
“I like your brand of rough.” Her words were instinctive, true.
He stepped to the fence, close enough for her fingertips to graze his chest. Even through the two layers of clothing she could feel his nipples were hard. Her pussy twitched and she felt the first trickle of cream at her nether lips.
“You think so?” His eyes, so unusually dark, caught hers with an intensity that had her questioning subtext. But she had nothing to fear from him. That had been made clear yesterday.
Her own nipples had swelled now and she could see his gaze fasten on the low-cut bodice of her dress. Her breath quickened. “I brought a sleeping bag.”
His lips twitched. “I see.” Pinioning her fingers underneath his dirt-roughened gloves, he turned and called out, “Barkley, I’m taking lunch!”
The older man she’d seen yesterday raised a hand in acknowledgement and turned back to his conversation.
Thank God, she blinked. All this visual, verbal foreplay was driving her insane with lust. She didn’t want to chat with Cere, she wanted to fuck him.
Cere tossed his hat into a wheelbarrow and pulled a ring of keys off his belt. He unlocked the gate and eased out of the narrow opening.
“All set?” he asked her.
She gestured to her car. “Just have to get my sleeping bag.”
He openly laughed, making her feel a bit defensive. “Is it in your trunk? I’ll get it for you.”
They pulled it out of her car, then walked over to his truck.
He cocked his head to her as he pulled out his keys. “So, do you get off on trucks or something?”
She shook her head. “I get off on you.”
With movement almost too quick to see, Vi found herself plastered against the door, Cere’s firm lips against hers. She opened her mouth, giving his tongue free entrance. He tasted of cherries and pine needles. Somehow he managed to imprison her leg between his. Her mound rubbed against his leg with only her skirt to protect her sensitive flesh. She moved against him recklessly, pulling one of his hands to her breast from where it rested above her head.
“Ares, you’re as shameless as a bitch in heat,” he muttered, pulling her aside and getting his door open. “I love it, as long as it’s just for me.”
“It is,” she said hoarsely, her lips swollen from his bruising kiss. Even if she didn’t want this to be true, it was.
He lifted her onto the truck seat, spread her legs wide around his powerful thighs. His h
ands squeezed her breasts, hard. If she could only get her pussy a little bit closer, get a little friction going, she could come. She needed to come.
A little wriggle slid her to the edge of the seat, but he obviously sensed her wish and his hands dropped from her breasts.
“Do you want me to take you in front of the Brotherhood?” he asked.
She raised passion-glazed eyes as his sentence ended with a growl. A few yards away a group of hard-hat-wearing men stood watching them. Her heart thumped as one of them cupped his crotch.
She fought to catch her breath, focus. He had moved away from her pussy and this helped, as badly as she wanted friction there.
“I must be losing my mind,” she told him, pushing her curls out of her face. “You have some serious sexual mojo over me.”
His chest rose and fell. “I know it’s hard to stop, but the park is so close.”
He patted her legs. She swung them into his truck and he closed the door. Through the open window, she heard the other men’s howls of protest. Cere made a rude gesture, then walked around the front of the truck and got in on the driver’s side, stuffing her sleeping bag behind the seat.
“They certainly didn’t seem concerned that we were having a private moment,” she observed.
“Privacy isn’t highly prized in our culture,” he told her, starting up the truck.
As she pondered why a construction union would have a culture, Cere drove swiftly to the park. Was this Brotherhood of the Dog some kind of a cult? Vi licked lips that had suddenly become dry. Some kind of sex cult? Leaning her head back into the seat, she realized she didn’t really care. Whatever he was into had given him skills and she had no interest in resisting him. Her lust was animalistic in its power over her judgment.
They drove into the park as they had the day before and were soon in the mini-forest where they had parked. Cere jumped out after turning off the ignition and pulled the sleeping bag from behind the seat. She heard the tailgate drop in the back and took this as her signal to open her purse, pull out the condoms and follow him.
