Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Wolf
Present day…
“ O h, they are so beautiful,” Fawn gushes as Seven sits obligingly on the forest floor and shifts just his antlers for her to admire. She stands leaning over him, wearing her usual pants and shirt, the open V at her neck level with his eyes.
He does not look in an obvious way, but every male has an impressive peripheral vision when it comes to checking out a pretty lass, so I’m certain the bastard is admiring the view.
It is the evening of the fourth day, and we have just stopped to camp for the night. Like all the previous ones, I sense it will be a test.
“Fawn, where are your shoes?” Seven suddenly asks, sounding both stern and gentle at the same time.
“I thought I might… you know… shift for a little while tonight.” She nibbles on her lower lip, peeking from Seven to me under her lashes.
“No,” we say in unison.
At least we can agree on that.
She huffs a breath and flounces off to sit beside Blue. The mutt gazes at her adoringly before flopping his giant head over her crossed legs so she can pet his ears.
Seven’s antlers recede, making Fawn glower in disapproval. She is borderline obsessed with them. I’m glad he has taken them out of her damn sight.
“You may shift as often as you wish once we are within the safety of my herd,” Seven says, all magnanimous, twisting the dagger in my gut, giving her something I never did—safety in which to be herself.
He spoke true that first day when he said I should be the one to bear the burden if I loved her. Every time I think of her hiding her doe, my gut churns, and my heart pounds with fear for her.
It could have ended so badly so many times. If I hadn’t had my head up my ass, maybe I’d have noticed sooner. Maybe I could have done more for her…
Maybe she would not need him.
“Is it hard to keep just your antlers shifted?” she asks.
See, fucking obsessed with them even when she is bratting because we will not let her shift.
“It is no more difficult than being in a full shift… and it can happen involuntarily sometimes,” he adds as though reluctant to admit a weakness.
“What makes them sprout, then?” she asks, all fucking curious again and forgetting she flounced off in a huff.
His jaw tightens a fraction—my inner wolf cocks his ears, sensing a sign of weakness.
“Many reasons,” he offers vaguely.
Which pricks my wolf’s attention further. I think about those occasions when I partially shift. Usually, when I’m pissed or sense danger, but also when I am…
“Tell me some of them, please,” she demands.
“No,” we say in unison again.
We share a look. A smile touches his lips.
The bastard is up to something, that much is certain. He has not made a move yet, and I was expecting him to. The wait is making me nervous, which makes no fucking sense.
He is always striding around fucking naked with his third leg swinging as he sets up the small camp. It is like a magnet drawing Fawn’s eyes, making her aroused scent bloom like a cloud until I have no choice but to mount her so I can think straight… which does not last very long… not the mounting, the thinking straight afterward in case anyone is confused.
But he has not said anything more about her being his queen. Nor has he once shown even a hint of arousal… other than the occasional—and I’m now certain, involuntary—sprouting of his antlers when I fuck her in front of him.
Maybe he has changed his mind?
Maybe he’s not into does and merely wants a queen in name?
Nope, the bastard is playing the long game. I’d bet on it.
Fawn
I love Seven’s antlers. They are surely the most beautiful antlers in all the world. I have admired them often and with increasing boldness since we left the pack four days ago.
Once it was decided that I would leave, I spent a day sorting through my possessions, choosing what to keep and what to leave for the family who were looking for more space and were delighted with the boon of my former home.
In the end, I left most things for the family, including Greta, my wayward goat.
Now we are on our way to Seven’s home. And while my mama hailed from a lesser herd and not his herd, it still feels like I’m going home to where my parents’ secret love first began and before they had to flee.
Seven told me the story of their mating, how a lower herd leader’s son sought to break them up, and how Seven’s father, the former Master Stag, and then Seven searched for us.
My tummy feels all fluttery thinking of Seven searching for me all these years. It feels like his finding me again is the closing of a circle and significant somehow… I imagine tracing my finger along his antlers, how velvety they feel, like they are designed by the Goddess herself to entice me to pet them.
Despite being cross with him for not letting me shift, only moments later I’m mooning after his antlers again.
If I love his antlers, then I also suffer a lot of guilt about them, specifically that I admire them so much, along with the rest of him: his beautiful golden skin that seems to shimmer in the sunlight or campfire, his long golden hair, and his cute pointed ears, which I am not yet bold enough to pet… his kind, patient, and infinitely gentle ways, and the occasional firm side he reveals, that makes me want to be good and bad all at once. And his stag form, which is so much larger and more dignified than the younger version I first met. My doe is besotted with him and his scent. She preens inside me whenever we are close, which is most of the time.
It is probably for the best that I have not been allowed to shift while we travel, lest my doe shamelessly entice the regal stag to rut…
I want to shift, though, desperately, maybe not in front of Seven, given my doe’s obsession with him. Seven has assured me that I can shift as often as I like once we are within his herd. Yesterday, he mentioned that I was being allocated courtiers, who I think are like personal guards.
Courtiers. He mentioned them before when he first arrived at my home, telling me how I was descended from a fairy, how I am lusty, and how I would need a lot of tending, and mates, and courtiers, whom I think might not only be personal guards, but extra mates for when I’m very needy indeed. How his herd’s finest warriors would have leave to woo me…
At first, I thought he wanted me… to share me with Wolf, but now I am not so sure.
Pushing Blue’s heavy head from my lap, I rise and begin to pace, blushing furiously, aware of how close I am to both Wolf and Seven, who have taken seats on opposite sides of the small campfire, how their combined scent tickles my nose, how I am making a little mess between my legs.
Wolf suddenly growls.
If my doe finds Seven noble and intriguing and flirts shamelessly before him in my mind, she is a hussy for Wolf. For Wolf she wants to wag her tail like that might encourage him to take her. That he is a wolf and she is a doe is of little importance to her.
Hearing a faint rustle, I spin around.
“My mate has needs,” Wolf says, snatching me up and carrying me like a sack over his shoulder to his side of the small clearing where he drops me to the ground.
“You are making it wo?—”
Wolf’s growl cuts Seven off before his head swings back to me. “How I lasted this long without feeling you around me is nothing short of a miracle. I fucking hate these pants you wear,” he continues, going for my buckle and yanking it open before ripping my pants down my legs, heedless that Seven is right there and can see everything, including the mess I have made on my panties. “You will be wearing dresses from now on.”
He grunts finding my pants and panties snagged at my ankles, shifts his grip, and finally tears them off.
“Dresses that provide a male with easy access to his mate.” He lowers his lips to mine for a hot, lusty kiss. “Access to her pussy so he might rut her whenever and wherever he suffers the need… Which will be often when his mate has the sweetest pussy.” He pushes two fingers inside me roughly, and I arch up. He kisses me again, thrusting slow and purposeful before he spreads my wetness over my clit.
My body is on fire for him. How I love his touch. The forest sounds wrap around me; the evening breeze brings the scent of the pine. His fingers are busy making me hot and achy, his kisses moving to my throat, then lowering to the open collar of my shirt where he nips and sucks against the upper swell of my breasts.
Knowing Seven is right there, mere paces away, makes everything impossibly hotter.
“Are you going to come for me, Fawn? Are you going to be my good girl?”
I moan, the pleasure rising as the nerves where he gently circles my clit zing from his skilled caresses. My fingers tangle in his soft hair, drawing him closer, my back arching.
“Or are you a bad girl?” His voice lowers to a purr—I shiver—he nips at my throat. “A bad girl who needs her pussy spanked before I fill her roughly with my cock.”
My hips jerk against his fingers, wanting more, wanting him to do everything he just said. I come. It rolls through me like a hot, pleasure-filled tide.
He chuckles and nips against my throat. “Such a naughty doe, getting off on the thought of being fucked by a wolf.”
He tumbles me onto my hands and knees and slams his cock into me.
I squeal, my eyes pop open, and I am staring straight at Seven—who is staring back at me, his golden skin flushed and his gaze intense.
Does he like this? Watching a rough wolf shifter take me.
Wolf pounds into me with all his savagery, and I bask in it, coming apart, squealing as another climax takes me sharp and fast, and all the while, Seven’s dark gaze is locked on me.
It is too much.
The pounding cock, the stretch of his burgeoning knot, Seven’s heated gaze. I come again. It consumes my very soul, and this time, when I start convulsing, I cannot seem to stop.
Wolf growls, low and vicious. His knot feels impossibly bigger than it has done before as he slams inside me and stills.
My eyes roll back, and my mouth opens on a silent scream as he fills me all up…
I think I have passed out… either that, or I am dead and floating in the hazy afterlife. I can’t feel anything for a stretched moment before all the sensations come rushing back. There is a thick, hot rod filling me, and I groan as my pussy squeezes weakly around it.
“Bad girl,” Wolf admonishes. “Making me take you roughly, making me knot you.”
He rocks against me, his knot pulling me open, producing a heady combination of pleasure as he fights the lock of my sore pussy.
I come, groaning and humping back in a confused state that seeks more. I didn’t think I had any more in me, but whatever he does with his knot tips me over the edge.
He pulls out, and a gush of cum spews out, saturating my thighs and the forest beneath me.
A blanket is nearby, which he reaches for and wraps around me before drawing me into his arms. I am shivering, but not from the cold. No, it is the intensity of the experience. The top of my thighs are all sticky with cum, and I fidget a little.
“Do not mind it, lass. Shifters come a lot, and alphas more still. We have a great appetite for rutting, and I already need you again. Try to be still for me and sleep, and I will do my best to abstain.”
My pussy clenches, and a mini spasm shoots through me. Experience tells me he is not joking about this. If I’m not perfectly still, he will rut me again. He might rut me again even if I am still.
My doe is wiggling her tail like she is enticing him to go again. Thinking about what he said a few days ago, about his beast taking me, taking her… She is such a hussy.
We are very much aligned.
His eyes meet mine in the fading light, and his face softens as he traces a finger down my cheek. “What is troubling you? Is it because I spoke of my beast taking you the other day?”
I bite my lip, but when I turn away, he catches my chin.
“My doe is very enticed by the idea,” I admit.
Seven grunts on the other side of the camp.
I want to check on him, but Wolf has my chin in his hand and tightens his hold. His lips tug up. “Only your doe?” Leaning in, he nips my lower lip until I part for him. We share a lusty kiss, one that makes me restless… that makes me wince as my pussy clenches.
“She is sore,” Seven says coldly.
Wolf stills, lifts his head, and stares down at me, eyes narrowing. “Are you?”
I shake my head.
“Fawn. I have warned you about lying to me.”
“Fine. I am only a little sore.” A blush heats my cheeks. “That would not stop… if you… if your beast needed to…”
Seven makes a scoffing noise—Wolf is still holding my chin.
“Ah, so that is what this is about,” Wolf says.
“What?” What is this about?
His grin is wicked. He tumbles me onto my back, tugs the blanket aside, and parts my thighs.
I swallow thickly, knowing already what he is going to do. It is a wolf thing, he told me previously.
I forget about my worries of taking him as a beast, but not about Seven, who I know is watching what Wolf does as he laps my sore pussy, lifting me slowly but surely toward a breathtakingly gentle climax and sleep.