Just a Wolf

Dominic

It’s a fairly long walk to the garage. This is an enormous complex, various outbuildings scattered in a wide area behind the mansion. The huge garage seems to be all the way at the back, nearly a mile away near the tall security fence with a long driveway alongside it. All of our cars are parked inside, lined up in rows and carefully double-parked, along with several other cars, presumably belonging to River Moon. There is nobody else here. I suppose that their mechanic doesn’t need to prepare any cars today. But the shop is well-equipped, I see that everything I might need is at hand here. I don’t intend to do much, just start the cars, make sure everything is running smooth, check the oil and tires and such. Dad and I keep them in good running condition, so I don’t anticipate any problems.

She walks with me, up and down the rows of cars. We brought eight cars with us, but there are nine parked here. The extra one is at the end of the row, parked behind another one, and when we get to it she wrinkles her nose. Which is so adorable that I can’t resist leaning down and planting a little kiss just on the tip of it. Nobody is nearby, I know, I’d hear them if they were. Werewolves have very good hearing.

She giggles a little, and draws back after a moment. “Don’t get me started,” she says, “I’d never be able to stop.”

I inhale shakily, my dick springing to attention at the thought, and try to force myself to look back at the cars.

She does the same, and waves her hand over at the rusty old car. “Whose car is this?” she asks, smirking at how crummy it looks compared to all the other ones.

“The rogues’ car,” I tell her.

She looks at me quizzically. “What rogues?”

I pull my chin back, confused for a second, assuming that everyone would have heard about this by now. But no, I realize, she might not have had the chance. I’ve been with her ever since last night, maybe she hadn’t talked to anyone before she got into the ballroom?

“From yesterday, on the trip here,” I tell her.

“Oh!” she says, like a lightbulb is going on in her head. “Is that why you were all late yesterday? I heard you had trouble on the road. I assumed it meant car trouble.”

I pretend to be outraged. “Car trouble? Madam, I will have you know, these cars are all in perfect operating condition!”

She laughs, and it is too much. Her laughter is like music. I can’t resist for one more second. Nobody is out here, nobody is watching. I reach out and pull her to me. She is surprised, but she immediately relaxes as I wrap my arms around her. She lifts her face up to mine, and our lips make contact, and it is incredibly wonderful all over again. We did this most of the night last night, but it is like I had already forgotten how incredible she feels, and tastes, and is.

Mmmm. Last night we were laying down, but standing up gives things a whole new perspective. Her hands are up wrapped around my head, and mine are moving down her back. Further, and further, until I have dared to touch her ass. I was too polite last night, but this morning I don’t think I have as much control, I don’t seem to be able to stop myself. I can’t believe how she feels in my hands, and my fingers dig in just a little, enjoying the sensation of grasping her there.

She gasps into my mouth when she feels my hands cupping her round cheeks, but she doesn’t pull back. It just seems to drive her into even more of a frenzy. Her hands pull my head even closer to her, we are both breathing heavily even as our mouths are merged together, and I have to get as close to her as possible. I squeeze her to me, using my grip on her ass to pull her forward, so that my hard dick is pressed right into her stomach while we stand together.

Oh my god. I’ve never felt anything like this. We are so close together it’s like we are one person. I am grinding against her, and she is grinding right back, and my head is spinning, and my heart is going to explode with love and lust.

I lean back from her mouth for just a second to catch my breath, and she throws her head back. I start kissing down the line of her beautifully exposed throat, and she lets out a little moan that just drives me wild. When my lips get to the base of her throat, just where it joins with her collarbone at the side, I have this uncontrollable urge to bite her.

It’s the weirdest thing. I feel myself open my mouth, and let my teeth graze against her skin there, and she is panting and pressing my head against her neck, and I swear that it feels like I am about to take a chunk out of her. My teeth want to sink into her, just as much as my dick does. It is a primitive and powerful impulse. It feels instinctual, and imperative, and immediate.

“Wait,” my wolf suddenly breaks into my thoughts. “Are you going to mark her right now?” He seems just as horny as I am, and like he is wanting to bite her too, but somehow he is trying to get us to exercise some self-control. “Shouldn’t you wait until you consummate the mating?”

My brain isn’t really engaged at this point, but it makes me pause for just long enough to realize what is happening. I am about to leave my mark on her, a visible sign on her skin that will tell the world that I have claimed her. I know that it happens with fated mates, but I hadn’t thought this far ahead, in my determination to take things slowly with Amelia, just one step at a time. Apparently this step tried to jump to the front of the line.

I didn’t expect this instinct to be so overpowering. It feels stronger than any desire I have ever known in my life. I almost did it without even meaning to, without even thinking about it.

Shouldn’t we talk about this first? Shouldn’t she be the one to decide whether she wants this to happen? She wants to keep us a secret for now, and I know she isn’t ready for sex yet, but I was still about to take such an enormous step without even asking her?

What kind of animal am I?

“Just a wolf,” my wolf tells me.

Well, I’m a person too. A thinking person. We have to talk.

It is the hardest thing I have ever done, but I back away from her. She gives a tiny whine, and it is the most beautiful sound in the world, to know that she doesn’t want to let go of me.

We are both breathing as heavily as though we just ran a race. My hands are on her shoulders only, and my forehead is leaning down against hers, and my eyes are closed. It takes me a minute to be able to speak. “I think,” I pant, “I think we should talk first.”

She nods, but doesn’t say anything. I think she is breathing too hard to speak.