Werewolf Consort

by Girl, Breukelen

  Our lips meeting and we become engulfed in one another again. Paris’s kiss is deeply desperate for my mouth. Like he wants to cover every last inch of my mouth with is tongue. Like it’s a competition to kiss away the blues. It’s wonderful now I’m in his embrace and we’re together. I forget that there is a world outside of this, as he cups my face and I creep my body further up his. We’ve missed days of this intensity, as we become all hands and mouth on one another.

  “I’m yours.” I gasp between breaths as he leaves me breathless, working his mouth down my throat towards my breasts. I can’t believe I had to go three days without this. “I don’t know how much clear I can be on that other than to say no more secrets.” I state softly as his tongue flicks out at my nipple. “That includes yours.” I say as his lips suck in my nipple and we push the covers back so I can straddle his lap. Paris stops and looks up at me.

  “Yeah, you.” I repeat. “You’re conscience, surfaced in Brooklyn this weekend, in the form of a certain Lycan, we both know. ” Paris is in thought as he hears my words.

  “So much for the after glow.” He mutters sighing. “Do I need to explain myself?” He asks me honestly.

  “Eventually, yes, but not right now.” His teeth graze at my nipples and he lifts my hips up, so I can feel him press against me. Paris slides into me slowly. It’s like we control time when we make love. The focus on one another’s reactions is what we look for, what we want. Paris opens his mouth as he moans and I can see his teeth are sharpening. Which is what happens when his shape shift isn’t far from the surface of him. When he has almost no control left.

  “That’s the trick to this thing, remembering who we are, with one another.” I say licking those lupus teeth right up to the gums causing Paris to moan with pleasure. I pull back to look at him.

  “I missed you so damn much, after you shut that front door I knew straight away I’d made a mistake.” He says breathing heavily as I move to kissing his jaw. “And the stupid thing is, I didn’t know how to get you back. I thought,” He pauses and I lift my head to look at him. “I honestly thought I’d messed up and lost you then and there.”

  “Try a little harder next time you want me gone for good.” I half smile and let out a light laugh.

  “Never.” He mutters and his hands drop to my hips and he lifts me to start moving on his cock. “Never let you go.” He pants as we start fucking and feeling the power in the room, crackle between us.

  I look hard at him. “Tell me you love me.” We keep moving, trying to keep our pace up with our racing emotions.

  “I love you to the moon and back my little wolf.” I dig my fingers into his forearms and my mouth drops open as I come, hard against him, not once, but three waves rock my body. Paris flips me over onto the bed and is above me, he needs to pound me, he needs the same powerful release.

  “You’re amazing.” He thrusts faster and faster and I can’t believe my own body is not done with me yet as he begins to build to his own orgasm, I feel a resurgence in mine. “Tell me,” He pants barely hanging on to his own thread-bare control. “You love me.”

  “I love you with all the moons and nights that I have in my soul.” I gasp with each word and matching thrust. Paris howls, a wolf howls that vibrates between us as he comes squirting his seed inside me as my legs wrap around his waist, rocking with him as I again find release in being with the wolf I truly love.

  10

  3 Months later…

  He kisses me into distraction. Trying to make me melt and forget what we came here to do. What he wants me to do. I sigh as his lips move and he starts working his way down the length of my neck. His fingers slide down to find that lower down, I am wet in anticipation.

  “I promise you I will be right there with you.” He kisses my skin. “Nothing is going to happen other than what we discussed.” Kisses and I try to shut my brain down a little more. To lock out the logical side of it and give in to the passion, the feelings he creates in me. Now is not the time for anxiety. “I’ll be in contact with you the whole time.” More kisses. But my mind begins to wander, going over the situation I now find myself in. I never envisioned myself having a complicated life. But then I never knew what it would entail as a werewolf. Especially once I stepped outside of my own pack.

  “I love you little wolf.” Paris affirms and I try to calm my heart down. Dark eyes see through me, seeing what’s underneath my skin. Seeing my heart. It’s beating too fast and he’s probably picking up on that as more than being fuelled by desire and lust. After all, we’re about to do a werewolf pack run. Which isn’t as innocent as it might sound. And is no way about fitness. He mouths my breasts and his teeth latch onto a nipple and I am almost able to forget why we’re making out in a forest at night instead of a bed. Not that this is a first time. Far from it. But this time it’s different, we don’t run with other wolves. We run together.

  “So sweet,” He mutters pulling at my nipple. The moon is hidden behind the tress and I feel far too anxious to relax, even though that is what is required of me if I’m to get through this. I should have known this would be a requirement. A pack run with his pack mate and mine. We are doing this to show the packs, that Paris and I are now together, we are now our own pack. Our relationship is a powerful one and both packs need to understand that neither Paris nor I belong to just one pack. We are borderless when it comes to them. His wet mouth moves across to my other breast and he starts working the nipple between his teeth. “I will never get enough of you.”

  Whilst Paris is the pack leader of the Manhattan Maen werewolf pack and I come from the Brooklyn werewolf pack, the Breukelen, it does not mean he will rule both packs. It’s more about sending out an all points bulletin to both our packs. To inform them that Paris and I are now husband and wife and both of us need to be respected as werewolves of hierarchy. He because he is the alpha of the Manhattan Maen and me because I am from the leading pack family of the Breukelen.

  Our relationship, our union, has benefits to both packs if they are smart enough to see it. He is wordless in his assurances as his naked chest presses against my breasts. My hardened nipples digging back into him. His lips trail my skin.

  The pack run is a time honored werewolf tradition. And both werewolf packs still carry enough tradition in them that this practice is still relevant enough for impact, which is why we are using it. Paris will chase his intended prey, me, through the forest. I will be caught by the alpha, him, and captured before both packs where I will submit to being mounted by him, to consummate our union before the moon and all werewolves present.

  “I promise you will be safe.” He mutters trailing his tongue over my body in patterns. Paris knows why I am so anxious about this. Because when I first heard about the pack run idea, it reminded me far too much of the attack I suffered when I was fourteen. When a pack of lycans attacked me on the night of my first shape shift. They captured me, immobilized me so that escape was impossible and took turns with me. My father and brother Markus rescued me. But by then, the damage was done. They’re an imprint I can’t ever fully forget. I can only push them down and away from me.

  “All the boys will be beside me, herding the pack, no one will get near you but me.” Paris says kissing me behind my knee. It’s been a week since I agreed to do this. Seven long days that he took upon himself to not touch me. It took him two weeks to talk me into this pack run. Not touching me, or me him, is a small torture in patience and ungratefulness. Paris even went so far as to sleep in a separate bed to me. Citing that if we slept together, he’d end up making love to me, over and over again. Anyone would’ve thought it was like we were trying to keep ourselves pure before marriage or something. Only that isn’t it. After all. Paris is my husband. Has been for three weeks now.

  His finger slides inside me effortlessly without resistance and a strangled sound forms in his throat. I start moaning unable to stop myself. “We will hurt anyone that comes after you B,” Paris says softly his hands sliding over my hips. “Y
ou will be mine and I yours.” I gasp as he starts thrusting the finger.

  “I can’t wait to be with you B,” He husks back at me adding a second finger. I dig my own fingers into his arms to steady myself as he starts reminding me of all that I have been missing from not having him for those past seven days. “Hated every second of being part from you.” He says softly in annoyance.

  The alpha is never denied anything. It would be driving Paris, an alpha through and through, to insanity. A small smile touches the corner of my lips with the thought that I’m his insanity, me and me alone. I gasp breathlessly as he starts a rhythm with his thrusting and rubs against what is his. This is my commitment to us. To our marriage, to the packs of which we come from. Once I’d agreed to the pack run, Paris stopped having sex with me and told me something I already knew. That once we started having sex again, my werewolf self would respond fast to him. Thus making my shape shift faster, better and smoother without his extra help, like normal. It’d make the whole pack run experience, easier so to speak.

  After all, I did voice my concern that given how anxious the whole pack run idea made me that perhaps I wouldn’t be able to shape shift in time for him to mount me or that I’d get stuck between forms ruining the whole point to the exercise. The alpha has to have a worthy mate and shape shifting is my downfall, to show it in front of a pack, would be disastrous. So he suggested the no touching one another for a week theory. The plan being that wen we did reconnect, it'd be so much easier because of the familiarity.

  “I will have you and love you all the days and nights that you are with me, my little wolf.” He murmurs back at me. I can feel the stroke of his fingers sending pulsating pressure through me and I know I will be hopeless to resist him. Not that I want to. “I will be your alpha and you,” he says as my orgasm starts to draw all that I have in me closer together. “You will be my queen, my alpha.”

  I cry out as my orgasm crashes into me and he holds me tight and I feel another sensation kick in. Like an after affect. A tingle of power, from him to me and my werewolf stirs ready to emerge from slumber, heady on the sensation of love and lust. Desiring the scent of the forest around us, the sensation of night fall seducing the werewolf to come out. I barely feel him withdraw from me as my shape shift begins into its automatic pilot of knowing what comes next. The woman must go so the werewolf can be all that there is. The werewolf that he adores and the one that I know I am.

  “That’s it B,” I hear Paris say encouragingly. “Come out and show me who you are. Show all of them.”

  My eyes flutter close and open and the world is white. They close and in a blink the world is simple again. It’s blank and white and grey tones. Paris is standing, looking down at me as my tongue lolls outside of my mouth and I look up at him, flicking my ears back.

  “There’s my girl.”

  11

  My senses take in the forest around me. I never tire of forests. The werewolf side of me can not be sated of a forest. It will always want one. The rugged unpredictability of nature, the challenge of landscape and navigating it. The nocturnal beauty that encases it and allows me the privilege to walk amongst it. I love it all.

  But now, it looks intimidating because my mind is elsewhere. Normally when I shift to my werewolf self, there is a sense of calmness or purpose or tranquility in being in this furry form. Everything makes sense.

  Now I know as I wander slowly through the undergrowth, that there are werewolves out there around me, far and wide at the moment. But looking for me all the same. Paris is leading them. They will be coming for me and he will be the one making them seek release through their human skin, making them race along the underside of the moon. Seeking his consort out. I am their mission, they’re prize, and they’re queen. They will not want to disappoint their alpha. So they will be excitable, energetic and eager to find me. Hunting for prey never fails to entice any werewolf.

  Unlike our natural animal counterparts, werewolves do not get to hunt regularly or often at all. And yet it is a biological need in us. One that needs to be sated to help us keep control. A pack run is the perfect way to let everyone get it out of their system and in a proper, controlled and respected environment. The energy of the pack will feed itself again and again as they run through the landscape, until they meet up with the my werewolf pack, the Breukelen. The combined energy of so many werewolves in one place will inspire all of them, to look to the alpha for the pleasure they will be seeking out of this hunt. I put my nose to the ground and sniff around before trying another spot. I want to make sure I am aware of my surroundings. Paris has assured me, repeatedly that everything will be alright. That there is no possibility of me re-experiencing anything like what happened to me when I was fourteen. He’ll kill anyone or anything that tries to do that to me. I nodded my head like a good little werewolf when he said it. Trying to believe him.

  But trauma is a hard thing to overcome. Even for a werewolf. Possibly more so. Our memories are so great in detail that we can recall all. The detail I remember from that night so long ago, would astound a police officer, if I ever got to tell them my story. I never did of course. Because that wasn’t what my father wanted. No, he wanted to deal with the matter, in house, so to speak.

  I put my nose to the ground again and still. There is the faintest vibrations in the land. They’re still very far away from me but their energy of their pounding paws, thunders through the earth like a stampede of certainty. Mother nature’s children are back in her house and looking to have some fun.

  It heightens the experience that we deliberately organized this for lunar week as a way to put out announcement about our marriage to the packs. Previously, only our families and the priest who married us knew. All of them were entrusted with secrecy of our wedding and know better than to speak until we give them permission to do so.

  Lifting my head I look around me and see nothing out of place in the landscape. Those closest to us understand the implications of me and Paris being together. Of us now being married to one another, permanently. I try to see the sky amongst the trees, but there is just movement of black up there. I haven’t been wearing my gorgeous wedding ring in public yet. However, Paris has made up for this by making me wear it every single time we make love.

  Ready Sweetheart?

  Paris voice comes at me through my mind and I look back down at the forest ahead of me, the direction, he has foretold me the pack will be coming from. Again, only a few werewolves know of my telepathic abilities, so they do not know that Paris and I will control this pack through this ability, with those wolves in question.

  When you are. I reply back at him. I can feel a slight tremor in the ground, nothing obvious to a human if they were to stand there. But my werewolf paws despite their leathery padding, a great sensors to the land on which they stand. They can pick up all kinds of movement when I actually pay attention to it.

  We’re coming up to the hill where I left you.

  They’re close enough that it’s time to run. Time to put on a seriously good show. The Manhattan Maen whilst they are familiar with me and have met me on more than one occasion, require me to show them that I am worthy of their pack leader as I am of being able to walk amongst them as one of their own.

  Good luck my alpha. Catch me if you can.

  And with the sound of him chuckling in my head, I take off. Running in werewolf form is a form of freedom that I just can’t get anywhere else. It’s weird when I stop to think about it, that I have this power to escape myself by becoming something simple like giving in to my biology of who I am and something that makes me happy.

  The landscape blurs on either side of me and my body heats up quickly as shrub branches whip at my sides, and leaves kick up in my path. I zig zag around the land, jumping logs and ducking under bushes. I want my scent all over this land, spreading the pack out wide as was my plan with Paris.

  Spread the pack out wide whilst Paris runs straight and we guide each other telepathically to one another, as
will the others, that I have telepathic links with, like Addison, Julian from his pack and Bodil, and Markus from mine, plus Thane who will be a part of the Breukelen running pack, coming from the Canadian Western plains pack and my twin brother Phelan. The where they fit into the picture of packs and allowances thing is still blurry and being worked out slowly.

  Getting tired yet alpha? I throw back at Paris with a taunt. Here I am out here all on my own and all you can do is chase this fine ass.

  I hear his sensual moan back through my mind before he says You’re not alone. Remember, I’m the guy that makes sure you have bodyguards everyday. Zane’s been watching over you this whole time. This information surprises me and I skid to a stop and swivel my head around looking for the Manhattan Maen werewolf. I was not aware of him at all. But then I probably shouldn’t be so surprised. I don’t have a lot of contact with Zane, he’s one of Paris’s brother, Wiatt’s enforcers. I have more contact with those that deal directly with Paris.