Secret Wolf: A Steamy Werewolf Romance

by Dancer Vane

  He kissed my neck, and circled a hand around me to caress me, pussy, thighs, all over. His other hand had found my breast, and he kissed my neck, vampire-style, his lips suckling softly on my skin above the jugular.

  I closed my eyes, but the light was still there, and that black wall of windows…

  He stroke slickness all over my most intimate parts, and I rocked my hips into his. He held me close again his chest.

  “Mine,” he growled, but it was so low, I could pretend I hadn’t heard.

  “Mine to fuck,” he added after a minute, rocking his hips, poking me in the back with his cock, and the head left a drop of sticky pre-cum on my skin.

  Well, that put his “mine” in perspective. But I wanted him to fuck me, as much as he did, so why did I feel a bit disappointed?

  “Mine to show them,” he whispered. And that was crazy, and I hadn’t even thought I might be into it, but I liked being exposed on the bed to whoever was watching outside. No, nobody could be out there, but it was so dark… in his arms, smothered in his kisses, being shown naked and vulnerable, and wanting him.

  “Push your knees apart,” he whispered in my ear. “Open yourself wide.”

  I let out a plaintive moan. My cheeks were burning now; my brain held to the knowledge that there could be nobody outside, not between the house and the lake; but my body, faced with the expanse of dark windows, didn’t know that.

  My body felt seen, practically felt some stranger’s eyes on my skin, piercing my secret place, watching as I joined my hand to his and felt his fingers exploring me.

  I was confused and surprised. I had never been into exposing myself, and I wouldn’t ever have felt safe doing it. But with him, in his house, I felt safe… sort of.

  Nobody could break the rules and join us, or touch me; but somebody could be outside, watching us, enjoying the show, enjoying watching us as I rocked my hips and kissed his lips and was about to be taken.

  My mind protested, but then, I knew there couldn’t be anyone outside… and yet? I knew how close he was to his friends. I also knew he was friendly with a lot of people I’d never met, and would easily find someone to stand out there, watching us. Free porn. He wouldn’t even have to pay them.

  His fingers dug into my ass, and he pushed me up me, keeping me close to his chest.

  “Condom,” I let out.

  He slapped my ass, hard. I shrieked.

  “I’m not coming yet.”

  “Don’t care.”

  Again he slapped my butt, and I jerked, trying to avoid the blow.

  “Asshole!”

  “Want me to stop?”

  I bit my lower lip and slid him a sly glance over my shoulder.

  “Thought so.”

  He slapped my ass with short, stinging blows. My pussy seemed to bloom under the afflux of sensations; my asshole clenched interestingly, stimulated as well. But my pussy was definitely receiving the message, and didn’t mind the stinging pain.

  I sat back on his legs with a whimper, smearing his skin with my arousal. He was rubbing the slick head of his cock over the crack of my ass, smearing it with pre-cum.

  “Want me there?”

  For a moment, I stopped breathing, shocked and wondering. I hadn’t ever done that; but he had such an effect on me, I wasn’t sure of the answer.

  “I could make it good,” he whispered, his breath burning hot on my neck. “Lots of lube. Lots of preparation. You’d enjoy the preparation.”

  I tried to think, but he slapped my butt again, and I whimpered.

  “Your ass is all red. A bit of lube would help. Would feel nice and cool where you’re hot.”

  I laughed breathlessly. “It will be even redder if I let you do this.”

  “Sure. Red and slick with my come. A beauty.”

  I could feel the blunt tip of his cock against my pucker, and shuddered.

  “Not tonight.”

  “Tonight would be good. Imagine if there’s someone out there. Watching you while you part your ass cheeks for me.”

  His voice, low, playful, made me breathless.

  “In your dreams.”

  “Definitely. But here too. On this bed. Sprawled under me, your face in the mattress, and your ass raised in the air.”

  Something was telling me we were heading to something like that, fast. But I liked my asshole intact, thanks. Though now, aroused, warmed and tickled in his large hands, I didn’t feel certain about anything anymore.

  But the shame, I thought, of being seen that way, watched…

  I shivered and whimpered under his hands.

  “Not tonight,” I gasped. “Pussy.”

  “Whatever you want, baby.”

  He sounded more amused than disappointed.

  “I want you everywhere,” I breathed out, horrified when I heard myself, but it was too late. “I want to suck on your cock. Let’s do that first.”

  But he held me firmly in place.

  “Shhh. Greedy.”

  I turned my head to look at him, and his smile was that of a predator, of someone who dominated the situation, who was in charge. But his eyes were softer than I had ever seen them.

  He leaned into me to reach the nightstand, rummaged in the drawer and took out a condom. I watched above my shoulder as he slipped it on, and swallowed at his sheer size, and hardness.

  “Come sit on my cock, pretty little thing.”

  “I’m not a…” but I ended in a loud gasp when he rose my hips, then lowered me slowly over the blunt tip.

  “Open yourself for me with your fingers.”

  I did. Parting the folds for him, moaning, helpless, and all the time I saw that wall of windows, and the reflection of my glistening, open pussy in that window, for whoever might be watching outside.

  I almost folded back on myself, trying to hide, but he held me firmly; and I relaxed, and realised it turn me on even more, the possibility of being watched.

  His thick flesh opened me, forcing itself inside me in spite of the tight fit. At the same time, I imagined the arousal of whoever watched his cock half-inside my pussy.

  If there was a man out there, was he touching himself? Was he thrusting, picturing his own cock parting me?

  And wouldn’t that be… something? Blake inside the hole he coveted, and that stranger’s cock in my pussy, stretching it like my lover was doing? I closed my eyes and leaned back into him, knees widely parted, lowering myself on his shaft at the pace that his hands on my hips chose for me.

  His breathing was hot on the side of my neck, hot and raw but not yet as I wanted it, not yet desperate.

  “Imagine,” I whispered, and I told him, in a broken whisper — breathless as he thrust inside me — what I had been fantasising about. He moaned and sucked on my skin, on my neck, bit softly, but enough to make me jerk in pain.

  “You hussy,” he whispered, his voice so fond it sounded more like an endearment. “You wonderful little whore. So this is some stranger’s cock stretching you?” He stroke my nipple, and joined thumb and forefinger to pinch softly. “And he’s pinching your nipple. While I am lubricating your hole…”

  I gasped when he leaned forward again, but he held me firmly, not slipping out of me. He grabbed a small bottle inside the same drawer, and went back to sitting on his heels. Something cold on my asshole made me shiver. “It’s only a fantasy,” I whispered. “You’re far too big for this.”

  “Believe me. The human body is full of possibilities.”

  I laughed breathlessly. He kept fucking me with slow, lazy movements, that thrust me forward, but his arm was strong around me, keeping me plastered against his chest.

  His finger rubbed the cold lube against my asshole, and I didn’t have a voice anymore to stop him; I felt full, stretched, and wondered at the wealth of sensations his finger was awaking. Then he slipped a finger inside, the tip, and I jumped with surprise and fell back on his cock again.

  “Tell me more,” he rasped, voice hoarse.

  I raked my brain and fou
nd only feelings, sensations, no words.

  “This stranger,” he whispered. “He’s got his cock in you, and I’m stretching your ass. How does it feel?”

  I moaned with delight.

  “It feels good. He’s really thick…”

  A chuckle. “I know.”

  I was on the verge of laughing too, but the two very different sensations kept me on edge, stopping me from laughing with him.

  “You feel good. You feel good inside me…”

  “That’s it, sweet love. Tell me about it…”

  I was so blissed out that the words glided at the surface of my brain, not quite reaching me, and I knew, vaguely, that he was like me, speaking without thinking.

  “You like that I watch while that guy fucks you? That I prepare your ass what he does?”

  “God, yes… but I feel dirty… filthy, with a stranger’s cock inside me… and you in my ass…” I moaned.

  He nipped my ear. His voice sounded breathless now. “That’s all you deserve for being such a filthy, wonderful little slut.” He kissed my cheek. His voice was hoarse. “A cock stretching your ass and some guy using you, some other cock in your pussy.”

  I knew it was his finger, but to my virgin ass it did feel like a lot, and I rocked on his cock and on his finger, taking them deeper, and I felt like a slut and loved it. I thought of the possible lurker outside, and I wanted his cock in my mouth, too, while Blake whispered sweet horrors in my ear, that turned me on desperately.

  “Love fucking you… love how I’m pumping your ass… “

  So far I had been the one choosing my pace, rocking over his cock and hand a bit dreamily, then more desperately. Suddenly, he threw me forward with a thrust and I had a second to brace myself with my arms, landing on hands and knees.

  From then on he was the one in control; an arm around my belly to hold me in place, he shoved his cock inside me in long, hard strokes, and he replaced the finger in my ass by another, that had to be a thumb, it stretched me so much. The lube made it almost easy, but I was becoming frantic.

  He gave hard, short strokes, a full body slam against my ass, and the sound of skin on skin, mixed with the wet sounds of his cock slamming into my pussy, seemed deafening. I writhed, and gasped, and begged him desperately — just incoherent sounds, a “yes” a “please”, just so he wouldn’t stop, my mind too much on overdrive to dig deeper than that.

  He wasn’t talking anymore; he was fucking me hard, and I loved the sound he made, that raspy breath that seemed to come from his guts.

  Then it became too much, my arms gave in and I fell on the mattress, face against the soft sheets, and he kept at it, kept stretching me, too much, wonderfully too much.

  I heard a strangled, keening sound rising from my chest, and my body trembled on the verge of something momentous, something terrifying and absolute; then plunged in the powerful wave, and I came convulsively, shouting out, my walls clenching on his impossible cock, came and he kept slamming into me, drawing it out, the powerful rush, the bliss…

  He didn’t come, the beast; he waited until I came back to my senses, blissed out and relaxed, to take off the condom and cum all over my ass, covering the burning skin in even hotter cum.

  I gasped, and laughed, and he gave me a little slap on the ass, on the side, as if to punish me for laughing.

  “Oh fuck,” I gasped. I couldn’t find words.

  He turned me to the side and spooned behind me, pressing against me, even if my ass was filthy with lube and come, and sticky. He held me tight for a second. I tried to regain my breath, but couldn’t quite find it.

  He kissed my neck, my back, his body like a solid wall of warmth behind me. I felt incredibly awake, but I must have been slowing falling into a doze. Body spent and aching. I felt fresh air on my skin when he peeled from me, and shivered.

  “Wait.”

  A moment later he was back, cleaning me with a warm cloth, warm water, his attentions complete, the moist cloth soft again my skin.

  At some point he must have gone back to the bathroom, at some point he must have pulled the eiderdown back on us, because I wasn’t cold anymore, but wonderfully well. I pressed my body against the wall of warm muscle behind me, fell a possessive hand close on my belly, and a whisper brushed against my ear, barely reaching my already sleeping brain.

  “Mine.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  BLAKE

  Another kid splashed into the pool, and I narrowed my eyes at him. Once he splashed back to the surface, anyway. He laughed, blessedly oblivious.

  Sun was good. Swimming-pool was good. Being with close friends — pack — was fantastic.

  I was restless, though.

  It wasn’t excess energy. We ran part of the night in the hills along the beach, enjoying a landscape of low bushes under a thin sliver of moon. We ran every night, usually together, and slept in the afternoon, falling again into our natural sleep pattern, easily enough.

  We ate our meat rare and shot strange looks at the shellfish when it appeared on a table nearby. Tonight we would drive to a club before running together far later in the night. Easy sex. Great. I was thrilled.

  Well, sort of.

  Just in a bad mood, really. One of those days. I didn’t feel like going to any club. Just wanted to go home. Be with Alanna.

  I glared at the kids in the swimming-pool. What man in his right sense would prefer going home to clubbing ?

  Well, me apparently.

  As people laughed around me and Farnwood did laps in the swimming pool, valiantly risking receiving a kid on the head, I was trying to pinpoint what made me so restless.

  Was it the different landscape? I was definitely a forest boy. Bushes and beaches were good, though, for a week-end. I had no complaint with running along deserted hills at night, paws sliding in the sand, napping and then having a drink at the side of the pool. Really no complaint.

  However, I still felt restless. I wasn’t in my rightful place.

  Could that be possible? I didn’t believe one had a place in the world; rather, that we chose one and made it ours. Nobody was asking me to chose, anyway. I could spend a week-end here and be happy to return home.

  Return to what?

  I couldn’t help picturing horror-movie stills, blood everywhere, Alanna with her throat slashed in the kitchen. I pressed my eyes closed and a little whimper escaped my throat. Closing my eyes made no difference: the picture was inside my head.

  Someone, someone crazy, was after me, and with all the hate that our secret would cause if revealed…

  I had to be reasonable. It had been only a scribbled note; some teenager on a dare, maybe. I had no reason to suspect a psychopathic killer.

  Farnwood, who was oh-so-wise, thought that just going away for a few days would let things calm down. I trusted him, and anyway I was safe as long as I stayed with the two of them. But Alanna?

  I had loved my house for the privacy it gave me. Now I was regretting the day I ever bought it.

  I had never expected that girl to become so important to me. And I wasn’t sure if I was happy about that, or appalled.

  I had been in this hotel a whole day and a half, and already I missed Alanna. I regretted taking that plane without her. I should have thrown her over my shoulder and taken her with me.

  And we would spend the night fucking. I didn’t care about any club. I knew who I wanted. I would leave her so exhausted she would sleep soundly why I left for a run with my… friends.

  That hesitation reminded me of her. What had it been she was saying, exactly? I could see her little face, her round cheekbones and big eyes, when she placed that half-beat of hesitation. Your… friends.

  And what a relief it would be, if she knew. How terrifying, at the same time, to not be anymore the owner of my secret, to share it with someone, place my life in her hands.

  How liberating.

  I had no doubt she could keep a secret. She was strong. Incredibly resilient, and still a glass half-full kind of
girl even when her experience was rather contrary, in my opinion. She was loyal to her friends at the trailer park, and I felt myself wanting to be her friend too.

  I wasn’t naive. At first, I had only wanted to help; later, I had been so obsessed with her little ass and the noises she would make when I fucked her — I had been right about that, by the way — that I had been unable to give attention to anything else.

  But even then, even when sexual frustration made me want to slap her ass hard, I had loved her sense of humour, and wanted to be her friend. I just didn’t think that would be possible, because I was also very determined to fuck her brains out. In a not-friendly manner.

  Well, that was still pretty high on my list. But at the same time… now I didn’t feel that it would end everything between us. I recognised now, how I had believed that should she know me, should she really know me, she would recoil in disgust, or run away as fast as she could.

  But she knew. And she was still there. Unfazed. Calling my bullshit, and even ready to take my side in the coming fight.

  But would there even be a fight? Because if people discovered what I was, I would be very outnumbered, very fast. Farnwood said I should take refuge at his place, but would I even be able to? And then what?

  If I had to do that, Alanna would run. She had come a long way, since the police in Chicago had arrested her father and tried to send her to a foster home. She must have been on the run for a very long time. A thirteen year old… I shook my head.

  I watched the kids who took turns pushing each other into the swimming-pool and splashing. That was how thirteen-years old should live, not being stuck with a father who tried to sell his daughter for crack, or running from Child Services, police and probably God across the country.

  But she was home now.

  The idea, strange as it was, bloomed in my chest, making me feel warm again. Yes, she was home. And I would kill to keep her there, and keep her safe. Sex was a bonus, a very nice one, but it wasn’t all. She was mine to protect and take care of — and, I smiled, mine to tame, as well, or to fight next to.