by Briar, Robin
Candice and Saffron will sense me tapping into the pool right away, regardless of where they are in the world. A side effect of the bond we share, the pact between us. I hope they understand. I’m sure I’ll be hearing from them soon.
Mason takes more liberties. My legs encourage him to abandon himself. Somewhere in what remains of his mind, he understands the gesture. He hasn’t really cut loose yet, but there’ll be no holding back now. I can see it in his glinting eyes. His mind is about to turn off, the last vestiges of his humanity winking away, replaced by instinct. No restraint.
I have to act now. It’s a matter of survival. Instinct for me too.
I open myself to the quicksilver pool. Not a river, not a stream, but a tendril. It’s more than enough. Then I whisper the words in Latin.
“Sustento in Carne.”
Maintain the Flesh.
I can’t tell if Mason can see what’s happening or not. I doubt it. I hope not. He’s too far gone. Eyes rolling back. The air shimmers around me and a light glow alights on my skin.
First, the bruises inside me are soothed, then the tendril goes further. It encases my body in a protective cocoon. An invisible barrier surrounds me, but without diminishing my senses. I still feel everything, each pounding of his gargantuan staff, the forceful collision with the back of my sheath, but the pain is gone. What would have been a torrent of agony is now a pleasant sting, thanks to the spell I just cast.
The timing is perfect.
Mason tightens his claws around my hips and unleashes himself at speed. His nails would have drawn blood a moment ago, but they can’t break the skin now. Not while the spell is active.
The creature must have been holding back until this point, but only by a thread. That’s gone now. I made it possible for Mason to be himself, releasing his dark nature even more than he had already.
The hair on his body thickens, becoming ticked like fur. He is neither man nor creature now, but something in between. Nothing can stop him. His hunger for me is a driving storm, and I mean to endure the best and worst of it.
The speed of his pummeling is incredible. I don’t think my little table can hold out for much longer. I’m splayed on top of it, but Mason is smashing against me and the table over and over again. Smashing it into the wall.
His need is voracious, and now that I’ve removed the pain from my body, I can’t get enough. The racket we’re making is enormous. More noise than my elderly neighbors downstairs are accustomed to hearing, and that’s saying something. Still, there’s no helping it.
Mason’s hands move quickly, lifting me off the table. He spins me around until I’m facedown, bent over the edge, feet on the floor. It all happens in less than a second. I reach across the surface and brace myself against the windowsill.
His giant snake pushes up between my legs, no hands to guide him. None needed. He’s inside me again, deeper than before. I can feel the barrier adjust around me. The spell is trying to protect me, but it’s taxed. Making room for his colossal size.
I try to look back at him over my shoulder, to watch Mason possessively thrust into me like I’m his property. He snaps a claw around my neck when I turn sideways, and holds my head against the table. Maybe he doesn’t want me to see him like this?
No. We are way past that point now. He doesn’t have to be self-conscious, not with me. It’s important that he knows that.
I reach back and grab the wrist of his claw on my neck, gripping the finger with my own. Whatever part of his brain can still register that I’m here beneath him, I want him to understand that he’s isn’t doing anything wrong. That I’m enjoying this.
I reach for the side of his body at the same time, until I find his hairy flank. I plunge my fingers into his fur, take a handful, and pull him toward me, into me. Mason responds immediately. His claws slip down to the cheeks of my ass. His nails try to rake across my skin, but can’t draw blood. The barrier protects my flesh.
I should be in excruciating pain by all rights, but I’m ecstatic instead. His abnormally large root disappears inside of me over and over again, like I’m somehow bigger on the inside. Mason isn’t holding back. I moan at the hardness of him, ridged with fattened veins. He chafes and massages every part of me at the same time.
His rhythm is selfish, strong and consistent, like a jackhammer. Maybe even a little frustrated. As if some instinct is telling his human brain that I shouldn’t be this obliging.
Mason drives into me like a feral animal, but I only coo in response. He’s clearly not used to this. I’m insulated from harm, but not from pleasure. The magic that my mentors and I share wavers as he collides with my ass, pushing me against the table edge. Something has to give soon. I hope it won’t be the spell.
Turn out it’s the table. My poor little dinette can’t take any more punishment. The veneer cracks first, the plywood splinters, and then shards fly everywhere. They bounce off my skin, denied access to my flesh by the invisible shell around me.
The table crumbles to the floor. For a moment, I’m falling too, but Mason catches me, one hand under each of my ribs. He lifts me back up, still inside me, eager to keep thrusting and oblivious to the destruction he has wrought.
Rather than driving his hips against me from behind, his arms do all the work now, lifting and dropping me on this considerable length. Stroking himself with my nethers.
I reach back with both arms and legs, wrap my limbs around him, and cling to his body. Mason has grown even larger. His head isn’t far from the ceiling of my loft. I can pretty much grab him anywhere. He doesn’t really need my help, but I hold on for my own snake. I grab fistfuls of fur and refuse to let go, keeping my legs spread apart to make sure he fits.
I’m close now. I can feel his balls slapping up against me from below, a sensation I absolutely love for some reason. He’s grunting, close to release as well, but doing all the work. I’ve cast one spell from the reservoir today, but now the time has come to give back, to replenish the quicksilver pool, with interest.
Mason will be the fuel. He’s good for it. I will be the conduit, tasking the same tendril that’s already attached to my body. All Mason needs is one final push, and that will come from me. We’re more than ready.
I only have a moment to say the words before my orgasm takes over. I utter them in time, but not by much.
“Custodi Libidinis.”
Preserve the Lust.
I give in to the keening scream that starts in the pit of my stomach. The orgasm erupts out of me first, but Mason isn’t far behind, joining me with a howl. The kind of howl that causes animals to die of fright. I’m sure he can be heard miles away.
There will be questions from my neighbors at the very least, but Mason doesn’t stop. Our pleasure blends until it’s impossible to tell where my release ends and his begins.
That’s when the vision falls on me, but not like before. No omens this time. No warnings. What was shrouded to me, his true animalistic nature, has been revealed. This time the vision is completely different. I’m overcome by one of strangest feelings I’ve ever known.
I’m in my body, but outside of it too. I can feel Mason taking me, forcing me open with his monstrous member. I can feel my lips widening and swallowing him whole, which shouldn’t be possible without tearing me apart. I can feel all of that, but I’m also objective to those sensations too, hovering outside my skin, watching him take me.
I can see the heat rising off our bodies like wisps of smoke. I can see the trail of moisture left by each trickle of sweat on my flesh. I can see the waters spilling out of us, commingling into a single river of cum. No false modesty here. We look amazing together.
The juices that rush out of me are nothing compared to the spunk rupturing out of Mason. I can feel it rippling up through him and blossoming inside me like a mushroom. A percolating jet stream of jism.
Mason spills his seed every time he crests my lips, relieving the pressure of his own release, only to plunge inside me again. It doesn’t ma
tter how much is lost, because that’s not what I’m harnessing right now. I’m siphoning his lust.
The spell takes it all, using my body as the conduit. The magnificence of his primal energy is drawn into my frame, converted into quicksilver, and then sent back to the reservoir pool.
The lust I’m draining from Mason is unprecedented compared to what I normally steal from men. I am the tool for his release and he is the fuel for my magic. A fair trade. After all, none of this would even be possible without that initial trickle of power I borrowed from the pool to endure his unadulterated passion.
I can’t help but wonder what my mentors are thinking right now, especially if they tapped into our shared connection.
There will be an accounting, I’m sure, but not yet. Right now I’m too busy getting my brains fucked out by a werewolf.
11. New Secrets for Old
Mason is unconscious on his side, still naked, on the kitchen floor behind me. I look down at his body, sitting cross-legged beside him, for any sign of the wolf, but find none. His fleshy shape has completely returned.
I don’t know when he’ll recover this time. I emptied him in totality, siphoning every last drop of his lust—for the time being, at least. Most men stay out cold for hours. There’s no telling how long Mason will be under. A fraction of that time, I’m sure. Still, it was better this way. He can wake up as himself again. Then we can talk.
Right now I’m happy to just look at him without any clumsy words between us. To make him the subject of my affectionate gaze and nothing else. I run my fingers through the hair on his head.
Looking back now, I was a fool not to see this sooner. The Norse tattoo of a wolf and moon should have tipped me off. As usual, the most obvious signs are the easiest to miss, at least in my case. I’m sure Candice and Saffron would have clued in long before it dawned on me—which is to say, at the last possible moment.
The phone vibrates in my hand a moment later. I’ve been expecting this call, and grabbed the phone from the bathroom when Mason passed out. I launch into the conversation before they can get a word in edgewise.
“I’m still in one piece.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m a puddle on the floor over here. What were doing? Riding a bolt of lighting?”
Saffron. The oldest member of our coven. Not only can all the coven members tell when somebody is casting a spell from the quicksilver pool, but with a spell like Preserve the Lust, they can also feel what that member is experiencing as well.
“Are you sure about that, Jessica? That was so raw. Not the usual fare we’re accustomed to getting from you. Can you still stand?”
Candice. The maternal member of our triptych. She uses my full name when her concern is genuine. Apparently I’m being conference-called from the city.
“I’m fine. And I can definitely stand. I’m just choosing not to right now. I cast Maintain the Flesh beforehand, once I realized what was happening.”
“Did he attack you? And for that matter, is he still alive?” Saffron asks.
She would help me bury the body if he wasn’t. I wouldn’t even have to ask. Saffron would just show up with a shovel.
“He is. And it’s not like that. I… invited this, even if I didn’t know what I was getting into at first.”
“Geez, that doesn’t sound like you at all, Jessica,” Candice says sarcastically.
“Sorry. If I had known what he was like, I would have warned you both. My bad. The quicksilver backlash wouldn’t have been such a shock that way. Still, I needed the barrier once I knew what was going on, and then I couldn’t waste the opportunity to fill the pool up again. I mean, there was just so much to harness.”
“You’re not kidding,” Candice says excitedly. “The quicksilver pool is overflowing and then some. It hasn’t been this full in a long time. I may have to enlarge the vessel if this keeps up. Will it keep up?”
I look down at Mason. His face is at peace. His breathing is slow and even—a temporary plateau, I’m sure.
“I’d say that’s a distinct possibility,” I say with a smile on my face that nobody can see.
“Well, don’t keep us in suspense, Jess. What are you getting up to over there?” Saffron asks.
“Would you believe me if I told you that a prodigiously energetic boy swept me off my feet?” I reply, wanting to avoid the tongue lashing I will receive once they find out Mason’s a werewolf.
“I would say that you’re telling us the truth, but only a part of it,” Candice says.
“The part that sounds the least troubling,” Saffron adds.
They do know me well, and I cherish them for it. I couldn’t ask for better companions.
“So how’s Ms. Harridan?” I ask, trying to deflect the subject away from me.
“Still no idea about her true nature, but Trixie is well in hand,” Candice says. “So long as we keep reinforcing the ward against Felix. She’ll come into her own soon. Her two male companions will see to that. That girl can store up sexual energy like nobody’s business.”
“And Kumi?” I ask.
“She’s keeping an eye on Trixie from all the usual vantage points,” Saffron says.
“Ahem,” Candice breaks in. “Don’t think I can’t tell how evasive you’re being, young lady. Who is this energetic boy, exactly? Perhaps Kumi should be sent down there to watch over you instead?”
“I’m fine! Honest!” I chuckle, trying to sound lighthearted. “Your little Jess has everything under control. Promise.”
Mason begins to stir just then. Which is unprecedented. No man recovers that fast. I guess you can’t keep a good wolf down.
“Got to run, ladies. He’s about to wake up.”
“What? Already?” Saffron says, genuinely surprised.
“There’s no way a mortal man can wake up that quickly!” Candice exclaims.
“Gotta go! Talk soon!”
I turn the phone off and slide it across the floor and under the refrigerator before Mason opens his eyes. He looks up at me groggily and smiles. The way he always does when he wakes up.
“Hello, dunderhead. I think the venison might be a little overcooked,” I tell him.
Mason thinks about what I’m saying for a moment. He’s still groggy, and it takes him a moment to process my words. Then he thinks back to everything that happened.
That’s when his eyes bolt open with the memory of recent events. It must come flooding back to him, as he sits up and grabs both of my arms at the same time.
“Jess, did I…” He looks at my body. “Did I hurt you? Are you all right?”
“Never better. No, that’s not accurate. Better than normal. So much better.”
I’m being cheeky on purpose. Mason takes a moment to give me a thorough once-over. Checking my arms and legs.
“But I… I could have sworn my cla—I mean, my fingers…”
“I guess I’m made of sterner stuff than you thought,” I say, smiling back. Enjoying his confusion more than I should. He leans me forward and looks at my back.
“There’s not a scratch on you. How is that even possible?” he asks, more to himself than me.
“Why should there be a scratch on me?” I ask, milking the moment.
“Well, because… that is to say… when I… Jess, what just happened between us? What did you see?”
I drape my arms over his shoulders and focus on his adorably bewildered eyes until I have his undivided attention.
“Let’s see. First. You turned into a wolf. Second. You gave me a thorough go-around. And third. I absolutely loved it. In that order.”
I point over my shoulder nonchalantly.
“Also, you owe me a new kitchen table,” I say, grinning from ear to ear and letting it all sink into his mind.
Mason looks at the table. It’s kindling. He looks back at me, a worried expression in his eyes, and opens his mouth to speak. I cut him off.
“Yes, I know. I should have suspected, but I didn’t. Not even after this morning in the shower. B
ut I figured it out eventually. I’m clever like that. Once a guy turns into the feral version of himself, I clue in pretty quickly.”
“And you weren’t scared?”
“Sure, at first. When you changed it was terrifying, but I got over it. You could say I mastered my fear. Also, I remembered that it was you in there. That’s when I started to enjoy myself. Maybe you remember that part too?”
I’m fishing a little, trying to figure out how much Mason can recall. I did cast two spells right under his nose, after all.
“Sort of. I remember the feeling mostly. I definitely remember that you wanted me, and how amazing it felt to be wanted, especially when I’m like that. It’s all kinds of vague. Echoes of memory, flashes of light. You smelled like dewdrops at one point for some reason, like it does after a warm rain.”
Mason gives his head a shake. He doesn’t realize it, but he’s talking about the ambient effects created by the spell.
“Jess, I’ve never cut loose like that before. I still can’t believe you’re all right. I’ve transformed a little during sex before, but those women had bruises to show for it. I never transformed like I did today. Nothing close to what you must have seen, but there’s not a scratch on you.”
“Maybe I bring out the best in you,” I say with a kiss, trying to deflect Mason away from the matter. He accepts my affection, but remains stunned by the whole experience.
“This time was so different. I normally change back slowly. I don’t remember changing back at all. The way you just kept taking me, I didn’t think I would be able to change back. Not willingly, anyway. I really lost it. But then the next thing I know, I’m me again, lying on the floor beside you.”
I turn around and rest my head in Mason’s lap, looking up at him.
“Have you ever felt the way you do for me about anybody else?”
“No,” he says immediately.
“Then maybe those feelings protected me. Maybe there’s a part of you, even at your most feral, that always looks out for me.”
