My Werewolf Lover
By Brenda Steele
We weren't allowed to mate with them, never to marry one of the creatures of the night. But I wasn't seeking a husband among the wolves, just a lover. The desire had haunted me ever since I'd gotten caught out after dark, in the Forbidden Woods and came upon an injured werewolf.
He lay trembling on the ground, his hair matted with blood, obviously from an attack. It touched my heart to see him there, and I wanted to help. You see Elves, what I am, feel an affinity for all living things. We want to heal the world, as it were. But our leaders had warned us against going to the Forbidden Woods where the werewolves ran. They were savages, the elders said. And I believed it. But as a young Elf, I was curious about them.
I had often seen the werewolves running with the wind beyond our magical barrier, just off in the trees. They were swift, darting along so fast, they were almost a blur. It was only by use of my magic that I sped up my ability to see them whoosh by. The thick brown pelts, the glowing yellow eyes and long sharp teeth hadn't frightened me ... much. It fascinated me. So I snuck out through the barrier regularly in hopes of meeting one of the magnificent creatures. Yet, for months, I had had no luck. They kept their distance.
Then came that day when I stumbled on the injured werewolf. He looked no different than a regular wolf as I already described, except maybe bigger, with bulkier muscles and greater intelligence behind the intense eyes. But that wasn't what drew me to this specimen crumbled at my feet. It was when he began to change, his bones snapping and popping as they rearranged themselves into a human form.
I jumped back away from him, but I couldn't take my gaze from the change. I was a virgin, had never had a lover and was promised to one of the Elven men in my village. Yet, as I looked on at the close-cropped brown hair, the full bottom lip with the tiniest of clefts in it and the strong jaw line, I knew I wanted more than just a glance at the werewolves. Inching closer in a squat on my hands and tiptoes, I let my hungry examination of the beast continue down over a butterfly spanned chest, tapering to a narrow waist and ... I caught my breath.
I have brothers, so I'd seen a naked male before when my immature siblings had waggled their goods in my face, in an attempt to embarrass me. But as proud as the boys were of their jewels, they would cry in shame in comparison to the werewolf's cock. The thick long tool made my mouth water. I imagined that had I spanned it with my fingers, I would not have been able to close my hand completely around it.
While I stood there admiring the creature's hard thighs and saluting cock, I heard the stomp of feet through the bramble. I knew I should run, back through my people's safety barrier, but I couldn't tear my eyes away. A wetness had already gathered in my panties, and I was squeezing a fist between my legs.
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My Vampire Lover Page 4
