Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
ROSCOE
Of course I’m proud of Emelia for standing up for herself. If anyone needed to get that out of their system, it was her. She’s been walked over for years, and it was bound to explode at some time or another.
I’ll deal with all the shrapnel later. Jason needs to cool down for a while, and then we’ll talk about it like adults. He does have one good quality, and it’s that he doesn’t take things in life too seriously, so I think we can iron this out.
My friends took the news about Emelia and the baby with mixed reviews.
“You sure you want to do all that again?” says Greg, a bigfoot I know from an old job working construction. “The toddler years? That shit is exhausting.”
I know it’ll be a challenge, but I’m excited for it. And doing it with a woman I love as much as Emelia? It’s like the life I never got to have the first time around.
“I dunno,” says one of my other buddies, “I think you’re just jealous, Greg.”
In the meantime, it’s the end of October and we’re approaching Halloween. And this year, that also happens to be the night of the full moon.
Great.
I usually try to keep as low a profile as possible when I wolf out. Get away from people, out in the woods as far as I can walk before the change takes over.
But now, things are different. I have this woman to protect, to watch over. The wolf is not keen to leave her on a full moon, when we’ll want her the most.
We. I don’t always think of us that way. Usually we want different things, but we are united in our adoration of Emelia. And so I propose that we go camping together that night, at a remote site I know about where there shouldn’t be anyone else out celebrating Halloween.
“Do I get to wear a costume?” she asks. “I always love wearing a costume.”
I don’t quite understand the question, given no one else will be around, but I don’t argue with the pregnant woman.
“Sure, you can.”
She comes up with something cute, an orange dress with a pumpkin face on it and a matching hat. I’m going to rip that dress off her the moment I transform, but she can look adorable while wearing it now.
“It’s going to be cold up there,” I warn her. “It’s the end of October.”
“I know, I know.” She zips up the puffer coat she has on over her costume. “I’ll be fine.” I also had her put on running shoes.
“Why?”
“Well, what do you do when you see a big scary monster?” I ask.
“Um… usually, you run.” She grins. “But I don’t think I’ll run from you.”
“What if I wanted you to?”
She pauses, staring at me. “Do you want me to run away from you, Roscoe?”
I might as well tell her, since she’s taken everything else rather well so far.
“I would love it.” I step closer to her, closing the distance between us, then lean down to nip her throat.
Her head tilts back, revealing even more skin.
“I would love to wolf out and chase you through the woods. I’ll even give you a head start.
” She moans as I nip harder, farther up.
“Then, once I track down your scent, I’m going to rip off those pretty clothes of yours, and—” I raise my head so we’re looking at each other. “You used the dildo I gave you?”
Emelia’s face instantly turns red. “U-um, yes, I did. The two days we didn’t see each other, I made sure to do it.” She covers her eyes like she can’t stand talking about it. “It fit… just fine. After the second day.”
“Good.” I tried to find something roughly the size of my werewolf form. “Thank you.”
“Well, time to go?” she says brightly, I assume so we won’t talk about the dildo anymore, and that makes me curious to use it on her sometime in bed. I don’t want to have any shame between us in the bedroom.
We head out of the city in my SUV, packed with everything we need for a nice night of camping.
Once we leave the valley, we head up into the mountains, and the dark roads are quiet.
Most people are in the city partying, not heading out to the middle of nowhere.
A deer jumps out in front of us, which scares the bejeezus out of me, but it’s gone before we can hit it.
Afternoon wanes, and finally, we reach the campsite. Emelia clearly has experience putting up a tent, which I like in a woman. We get it erected in a matter of minutes, and then unroll our sleeping bags, as if we’ll be using them.
Little does she know I’m going to be a werewolf until the moon sets, which isn’t until two or three in the morning. And we’ll make sure she’s stuffed full of me the entire time.
We spread out to find tinder, then Emelia quickly assembles a pyramid and lights the fire. We cook a dinner of hot dogs and hamburgers, getting ketchup and mustard all over ourselves. I lick it off Emelia’s fingers, which makes her giggle with delight, and then we kiss a sloppy kiss.
I feel so young again, being with her. Suddenly I’m twenty-six, too, and learning for the first time what it means to love someone. She’s so bright and full of life, simply radiating it, that building a family with her seems like the best idea I’ve ever had.
As the sun sets, the sky turns darker and the moon appears. Emelia glances from me to the moon and back again.
“The sky has to be fully dark,” I explain. “Then it happens. Don’t worry when it does.”
She frowns. “Why would I worry?”
“I make a lot of noise. It’s… a little painful.”
Her face twists in horror. “It’s painful?!”
“Yeah, I mean, my bones are changing, so are my muscles. Everything. It’s all rearranging and then reforming.” It’s an ugly process, too, so I was hoping I could do it without her watching. But I think it’s inescapable now.
“I’m sorry,” Emelia says, looping her arm around me. “I’m really sorry this happened to you.”
It’s been many, many years and lots of therapy sessions since that backpacking trip, but I think this is the first time anyone has ever expressed true sympathy for me.
I hold Emelia closer to me, kissing her hair, grateful for her generosity and love.
“Don’t worry about me,” I say. “Worry about you. When I tell you to run, you run, okay?”
She peers up at me. “And you won’t hurt me?”
The wolf growls. He would never.
“No, I won’t hurt you. Not unless you want me to.”
She doesn’t react immediately, like I expected. No, Emelia thinks for a moment, and then says, “Okay. Do you have a first aid kit?”
“In the camping box.”
“Then you can scratch me,” she says, fluttering her eyelashes. “But obviously, no biting.”
“Scratching, got it.” I bring her even deeper into my embrace, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. “We need a safe word. So I know if it’s too much for you.”
“Pineapple.”
I laugh at her instant answer. “Pineapple it is.”
We wait for the milky periwinkle sky to turn fully dark, stars appearing in a wonderful kaleidoscope that simply isn’t possible back in the city. We sit on a log together in silence, waiting and watching, until I feel the change begin.
I surge to my feet as my bones start creaking, breaking, moving. I howl in pain as it takes over my body, the sudden need to eat, to devour, to tear and rip. It’s always an onslaught like that at first, becoming the wolf.
The ground shrinks beneath me as I shoot up into the air. Even my fingernails burn as they change into claws. My mouth stretches, dragging my jaw along with it and all my teeth as they, too, change and shift into fangs.
Emelia cries out beneath me. I glance down to see her terrified face, her hands extended toward me.
“Roscoe! Oh my god, are you all right?” There’s probably some blood on me, like there usually is after I change.
Mate. That’s the only thought in my big, stupid head as Emelia looks at me. Mate her. Breed her. Fill her. It doesn’t matter that she’s already carrying my baby.
“Go, run,” I try to say to her, and it comes out a rumbling growl. “Run, Emelia.”
She remembers what we talked about, turns around, and takes off into the trees, her white sneakers flashing in the moonlight as she vanishes.
As much as I want to leap into action and chase after her now, I need to wait and give her a chance if this chase is going to be fun. I’m panting, sniffing the air, my cock already emerging from its fur sheath as her scent rides on the wind.
I’m going to devour her.
I wait and wait, growing ever more impatient, ever hungrier for my woman. My mate, for life. I know it now that I’m him, now that the wolf and I are one. She’s mine and only mine, forever.
Finally, I can’t stand it any longer. I have to find her, make sure she’s all right out there in the dark woods, and then bury my cock in her flawless body.
Dropping to all four legs, I let out a powerful howl, one that shakes the very trees. Then I take off into the woods.
EMELIA
Oh my god. I’m running from a fucking werewolf.
Yep, that was a real werewolf all right. Roscoe changed right in front of me, rising high above me, his bones snapping and then reforming, a tail erupting from his spine, ears rotating and then growing up into fluffy points. His mouth warped into a snout, his teeth becoming deadly fangs.
He is fearsome, with a dark coat the same color as his human hair and some silver around his muzzle and chest. His claws are like black daggers, and I almost regret the thing I said about scratching.
His big nostrils had flared, breathing in my scent, and yellow eyes peered down at me as his tail twitched.
Then he told me to go, so I went.
Now I’m dodging tree after tree, hopping over logs and rocks, making my way along the side of the mountain. I’ll waste too much energy if I go uphill, so my best bet is to stay on flat ground and try to save my strength. I’m pretty fit, and I think I can get well ahead before he—
Then I hear it, the howl not that far off in the distance. Shit. He’s that close already?
I speed up. Now I’m flying over the terrain, eating it up, my heart rate skyrocketing. Then behind me, I hear panting through the trees. A roar fills the woods, and then I remember it: the dildo.
Jesus, it was big. When Roscoe gave it to me, I thought he was joking. When I realized he wasn’t… I might have second-guessed all this. But I knew I couldn’t do that, so I took the dildo obediently and started working my way up to it.
I had seen his cock as it started emerging, and it’s no joke. It was slick and red and shaped to penetrate.
I’m ready, though. That creature back there was most certainly Roscoe in his rawest form. And he’s going to chase me through the woods and fuck me, probably on the forest floor.
Despite the racing of my heart, the pounding of my pulse and the drumming of my feet, I’m warm between the legs thinking of my Roscoe, my calm and sturdy man, roaring like an animal as he bounds behind me.
The sound of his feet churning the pine needles surrounds me, so I don’t know which direction he’s coming from.
“Found you,” a deep, rumbling voice says. I stop in my tracks as he emerges from the woods in front of me, as if he ran an entire loop around me. He’s on all fours, fangs dripping with drool, his eyes glowing in the night. His tail thrashes as he rises to his feet, towering over me.
That cock is fully protruded now, shining in the moonlight. Everything glows silver as Roscoe lowers his head toward mine.
“Get on your knees.” It’s almost difficult to understand him through the werewolf’s jaws and teeth. “Now.”
I won’t argue with him on that. I peel down my leggings to my knees, then get down on the forest floor. Pine needles bite through the leggings, but at least I have some padding there. My hands aren’t so lucky.
Roscoe snarls, then drops to his four legs again behind me. What I don’t expect is the huge, wet tongue that lances out and drags across my exposed sex.
I lurch forward, shocked at the sensation. Roscoe does it again, licking me from clit to ass and then back. He plays with me, that big tongue doing absolute wonders.
And then, he drags it down and shoves it inside me.
“Oh!” I sag forward, not expecting that. Holy shit, though, does it feel good. It twists and rubs inside me, and I’m twitching and moaning as he delves deeper with it, pushing me open even wider.
Then, abruptly, he leaves me. Big, clawed hands land on my ass, and the wolf crouches behind me. His drooling cock is searching, smearing pre-cum all over me, until finally, he finds what he’s looking for.
It’s just as massive as he prepared me for. The sloped tip easily slips through, as recently as I used the toy he gave me. But the deeper he goes, the wider he is, until I don’t know if I can take any more. Just before I’m about to beg him to stop, he withdraws, giving me a moment’s rest.
Then he pushes in more. And more. Roscoe is growling on top of me with every thrust, muttering something guttural that sounds like my name.
Claws dig into the flesh of my ass, dragging up my back and surely leaving marks.
I moan at the pain, at the stretch, and he’s pulling me deeper and deeper into the pool of our pleasure.
“Mine,” Roscoe snarls, thrusting in a wild, feral rhythm. “All mine.”
I nod rapidly. “All yours,” I echo, and he howls.