Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Fawn
I am having a pleasant dream, one filled with pleasure. My pussy tingles and the urgency builds. My hands search for the source of this carnal torment… and collide with fur.
My eyes pop open.
I’m sprawled out on the forest floor, and there is a beastly head between my splayed thighs, his big tongue lashing my most intimate place.
For a stretched moment, I have no idea where I am or how I got here, and then everything comes rushing back.
My secret exposed.
Mating Wolf.
Seven.
The agreement to leave the pack.
Petunia’s tearful goodbye.
Wolf growls against my pussy, like he senses my thoughts have drifted.
I don’t know how that is possible when he is feasting upon me in half-shifted beast form… and Seven is undoubtedly close by or might return to the small camp we made last night at any moment.
“Oh!” Heat floods my cheeks. My fingers instinctively tighten over the fur at his scruff lest he take his wicked tongue away. I remember him curling around me, his wolf body protective, sensing Seven watching from the other side of the small fire, Wolf’s purr rumbling.
Only what if Seven… “Seven?”
Wolf’s big tongue dips so deeply that my eyes cross.
“Wolf,” I squeak, losing grasp of my fleeting concerns as his large, agile tongue gets everywhere. “I am going to….ummnnn!” Nonsense spews from my lips. My hips rock, and my pussy spasms in tight waves that have me seeing stars.
I lie, panting as I come down. I’m too sensitive, and I want him to stop… I also don’t want him to stop. I twitch and fist his fur and finally wrest him off.
With a low growl, he surges over me. Snatching my fingers from his fur, he pins my wrists above my head against the forest floor. “There, that is much better,” he rumbles around his beastly jaws. “Now you cannot interfere.”
A wicked gleam lights his eyes as he leans down and takes a big lick from the underside of my breast all the way to my nipple. He repeats on the other side. His tongue lashes the tip, which grows hard and sensitive, and now I want to come again.
“Oh!” As I glance down, I can see where his beastly rod pushes fully from the sheath. It is bright pink and massive, bigger than his human cock, with a bulge on either side near the base—his knot. My mouth is watering… I wonder if I can…
He shifts, and where the beast was, is a man.
“You are not ready yet, Fawn,” he says.
My thoughts surge and scatter as I try to process what just happened—what he said.
So Wolf will mate me in that form? I had heard rumors... Still, this is a new and unexpected development. “You want to mate me like that?”
He cups my cheek, drawing my eyes to his. “Only if you choose.”
I gulp. “But you do want me in that form?”
He nods. “It is the way for my wolf to bond with you. Mating my beast form will allow him to connect with you.”
I fidget beneath him as I consider his huge, pink cock and the arresting bulges of his knot. “I like your beast form very much.”
He smirks. “My filthy, lusty little Fawn. How did I get so lucky?” He kisses me, soft and lingering, and grinds the underside of his cock against my sensitive clit.
A twig snaps loudly.
Followed by an enthusiastic woof .
I twist to find Seven on the other side of the cold campfire, Blue at his side.
Huge antlers suddenly sprout from Seven’s head.
“Goddess!” I mutter, twisting even further so I can get a better look.
Wolf growls. He slides his hips back and forth, snagging my entrance before slamming into me.
My eyes close. Pleasure shoots through me as Wolf takes me roughly, pounding into me, pinning me to the forest floor, with fast, even strokes… Seven is right here, watching…
I come.
It is like a cataclysm going off inside my head. I think I might scream, but I’m not in possession of my wits and cannot be sure. The thrusts are slowing, the delicious passage of his slippery knot making me spin faster. He snarls over me, then surges deep and stills. Inside, I feel the pulsing, heavy gush of his cum filling me all up while the erotic thrill of his knot pressing against my inner walls sets me soaring again.
His teeth find my throat, nipping against the mark he made the first time he claimed me—an achy pain blooms, shooting yet more pleasure through my core.
Seven
I cannot say that I like wolves well, but for the most part, I can tolerate them.
Tolerance is a stretch when applied to Jude, also known as Wolf. I want to rip him from her sweet cunt, skewer him until he is nothing but a bloody pulp, and show her how a stag ruts.
These are not the pure thoughts a Master Stag should harbor. They are dark and a little unhinged. Every time he touches her, the imagery of his death gains greater depth and ever more colorful detail.
“I brought food,” I say, battling to regain control of my antlers. They are large and inconveniently prone to snagging the low tree branches when the rest of me is in human form.
Blue beats his tail as he sits obediently at my side. He is a happy, dim-witted hound who has done an admirable job keeping pace with us. I drop one of the rabbits on the floor, and he takes it to the lee of a big oak, where he crunches enthusiastically.
“Can I see your antlers again?” she asks.
I make a point of sitting down lest I fall prey to the urge to skewer the bastard while he is knotted in my sweet doe.
“When Wolf has finished with his theatrics… and you have cleansed in the river.”
“Oh, do you like his nickname too?” she asks shyly. “Oh!”
Jude growls, his hips rocking and distracting our little doe. “He means it in a disparaging way,” he says.
“I really did,” I agree, unable to hide my smirk.
The mutt, chowing down his rabbit breakfast, yips as if seeking to contribute to the conversation.
I should walk away. Wait until they are done fucking.
The image of her pinned to the rough blanket on the forest floor with his cock rammed between her legs is a source of great conflict. On the one hand, I like well the lusty sounds she makes as he ruts her. Her sweet cries are a pleasure unto themself. But that it is the damn Wolf and not me bringing those cries to her lips, stuffing his fat knotted cock into her, gives birth to a feral side of me that I have never met before.
I tell myself that I do not mind sharing. I expected to do as much. She is a doe shifter, after all, and it is understood that they often have more than one mate. But I am also the Master Stag, and I do not like this dynamic where I must yield to this arrogant former pack enforcer.
That he appears as besotted with Fawn as I do is his one saving grace and the only reason I have not skewered him already.
“We should be leaving,” I say. “We have much ground to cover.”
My eyes, resting upon her flushed face, shift to the wolf bastard to find him glaring at me over the top of her head.
He smirks, pleased with himself for annoying me.
I tell myself that I can wait until we are back in my herd, where the balance of power will shift assuredly toward me, but this is a challenging time all around. I have allies there… and a secret weapon of a kind. She will love him; she will likely love them both. Although Nox is a test, he has always been my second.
I reach to pet the mutt, who finished with his breakfast, is lazing at my feet. His coat is wiry under my fingers. His tail beats at the ground from even that simple touch. Having a pet is not the way of our people, but Fawn is attached to her dog. At the risk of her never leaving her home, concessions had to be made.
My stag wants nothing more than to assert his claim over what he believes is his—but I have reached the rapid point where I would grovel for any crumb of her attention.
It is a very unsettling and unfamiliar feeling to be at such a disadvantage.