Lycan (Monsterverse)

5. Mia

FIVE

MIA

And for the second time, I found myself smushed under the large unconscious monster. One second, I was rubbing my palms down the biggest cock I could have never imagined, the next, I was flat on the ground with the wolf-monster on top of me. A confirmed, incredibly male wolf-monster. I could already tell from his voice, but this was . . . different.

Heat infused my face like it could melt it off. His large, heavy arm pinned me to the ground by my stomach. I stared at the roof of the shack, panting—stunned.

Even with the lack of contact I had with other humans, I had Pam’s erotic novels, so I understood the concept of sex and all the mechanics of it even if I’d never participated—but goodness gracious. As wrong as it was, and I knew it was wrong, it felt so good when he licked me. Even the prick of his claws pressing into my flesh felt good. I closed my eyes, breathing out slowly.

A madness had come over me and I hadn’t stopped moving under his tongue. God help me, I’d wanted more. Even his cum tasted good, which I had not expected of the glowing orange substance. Nor had I expected the tingling sensation when his cum touched my tongue. Or how warmth spread through my insides as soon as I swallowed. Like I’d slipped into a hot bath.

The feel of his cock remained imprinted on my hands, the slippery, wet member throbbing against my touch, while the faint indent of veins pulsed.

I squeezed my eyes tight, fisting my hands against the wood floors. My heartbeat hadn’t calmed down and I doubted it would until I was far away from this creature. His arm remained across my midsection, pinning me down. He’d never responded to my proposal, and if I wasn’t mistaken, he had found it funny when I asked. I rolled the back of my head against the wooden floors. If I went back home and told them about all of this, they would refuse to flee, and even worse, Jason would come out here to shoot him even if he well knew bullets didn’t kill monsters. No, telling Jason would lead to his death.

I pushed to my elbows and his powerful growl vibrated the floor. His large head moved and one of his antlers almost poked one of my eyes out. I flinched, studying the bone bursting outward from the top of his head. His furred pointy ears flicked side to side. Heat radiated from his body. Sweltering warmth that dug under my skin, making the chilled room warm.

I moved an inch to the side but his thick arm curved tight around me, dragging me closer. I gasped at the suddenness. My side was flush to his, his arm securing me close. Guarding me like a dog with a bone. The movement dragged my dress higher until the ground abrasively rubbed against my bare skin.

He nestled me against his wide chest, his arm curved across my stomach and breasts in a diagonal. The double-jointed section at the wrist area curved under my side boob. His hand—paw, or whatever it was called, felt odd. They looked like overgrown human fingers but much longer than normal, and a thin layer of rough flesh coated only the fingertips while silky fur covered the rest. Claws tipped the top of them, slightly curling at the ends. One of them currently dug into the soft side of my boob. With one twitch he’d pierce my skin.

He was frighteningly large, from top to bottom and everywhere in between.

I wet my lip. What to do? His fur felt amazingly silky and long against my bare skin . . . I wiggled under his arm again and my movement caused his dimmed glow to catch on something glistening in his fur. A gash across his wrist. Part of his skin was flayed off.

His fur was smoothed in patches across his body and upon further inspection, I could make out the ridges of unhealed flesh crusted with a dried, dark substance. One started at the side of his neck and disappeared under his body. I squinted with the minimal lighting, trying to get a better look, but the position of his body didn’t allow it.

A slice across his snout leaked very faintly. I hadn’t noticed it was blood until now because his dark fur camouflaged it. The circular injury looked like a muzzle had been clipped onto his face, begun to grow into his skin and then been ripped off.

My goodness, what had been done to this creature?

Despite myself, sympathy crawled into my heart. All of these injuries at this level were cruel. I wiggled a little higher and stopped. When he didn’t move, I kept moving higher until I managed to sit on my butt, and his arm squeezed around my thigh. Even though fur covered his arm, I could see the dip of the muscle in his arm. The thick cording twitched against my legs, making me seem tiny next to his size.

I reached for the bucket I’d left on the ground and inched it over with little dragging tugs until I had it next to me. Water sloshed over the lip and seeped through the wood slats.

Reaching inside the tepid water, I grabbed the remaining drenched cloth and wrung it out. Bringing the damp towel over, I swiped it across his muzzle, cleaning off the crusted injury as best as I could.

He twitched and a disturbed half-huff, half-growl rumbled in his throat. He still didn’t wake, so I set to work, making my way toward his eye where he had similar cuts and to his ear which looked like it had almost been snipped vertically.

I was concentrating entirely on swiping the now-stained rag against the base of his antlers where there were deep gouges when the arm around me stiffened.

From one breath to the next a snarl, so violent and spine tingling, exploded from his chest. He jerked his claws back so fast that they sliced into my leg again. Stabbing agony ripped through my thigh, taking my breath away. When I could suck breath into my lungs, I whimpered.

“Do not touch me unless I order it of you.”

My voice stuck in my throat as my brain went into flight and I started to drag myself backwards, my limp, agonized leg leaving a trail of blood. He snarled again and I stopped moving.

I watched him with bated breath. His head had lowered as he eyed me menacingly, looking on the verge of pouncing. He panted; fur lifting on the back of his neck, his eyes glowing brightly to the point that it hurt to look at him.

His large, white teeth were bared, and he hadn’t moved. He regarded me without expression, and I couldn’t help but feel his derision.

Tears streamed down my cheeks and dripped off my chin. Still, he just watched me as if he were about to tear out my throat. This was it for me. Once I was dead, Pam and Jason would be next.

My throat closed to the point that it hurt to breathe. At least I wouldn’t live to see my family killed.

“I-I was just trying to help you.” Words tumbled free, half-hiccupped from my crying. My leg burned so badly.

I clasped the top of my thigh with a wince. There was no sight of the bandage I’d wrapped around my leg earlier, so the scratches were exposed. The ripped fabric must have landed in some dark corner of the shack. Thin lines . . . maybe the cuts weren’t as deep as I thought.

He rose to his hind legs, looming over me until his antlers touched the ceiling. His body curved forward because of the joint at his foot that elongated and stretched to give him the agility to be on all fours and to straighten bipedally with ease. In two wide steps he was in my face.

I squeezed my eyes tight. His warm breath fluttered my hair back . . .