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His head swings back to face me, and his nostrils flare.
I worry that he will not protect me without full intimacy between us, yet that concern is only a small part of what I feel, but more tenderness toward him, if a little exasperated at times. I wish he could talk. I wish he could explain things to me in simple terms, but the reality is that he cannot.
“Could you lie naked next to me? I think that would be a good start. If I could... You know, feel you against me.” Heat floods my cheeks. I am being particularly bold tonight, and he has not yet even touched me. I nibble on my lower lip when he doesn’t answer. His chest is heaving, as though the mere mention of it is a great strain.
He nods, shocking me.
Just the thought of him being next to me, with that big, long, thick snake that fills his pants pressing against my naked body, has me sparking with interest and arousal. “Okay then,” I squeak, shy and excited all at once that he has relented to this request.
He gives a little tug at the hem of my dress and makes the motion for me to take it off. I’m enthusiastic about stripping and tossing it to the floor.
He grunts, and his lips twitch as he bares his teeth. There was a time when I thought his smile was fearsome, and that he was the ugliest creature on the planet. Time and burgeoning affection have overwritten those initial impressions. He is not handsome, but he is not ugly either. He is compelling, arresting, and fascinating. He is merely different from me. He is also magnificent, powerful, and protective. I need only be in his presence—in the evening, as we are now, when it is time for us to rest—and naked before him, and my body rises: nipples tightening and my pussy growing slick. He has conditioned me to accept his attention, and, oh, what wondrous attention it is. I crave his touch, but I also desire greatly to touch him too.
His eyes are on my breasts. He appears mesmerized as he steps forward and cups the two plump mounds, squeezing them together and pinching my nipples before giving a little tug. Pleasure shoots to my core, making me throb, making me urgent inside.
“You are not naked,” I point out. “You agreed you would undress.”
He huffs, getting that determined look on his face as he continues to taunt my breasts, making them sore and achy, making them flush with arousal.
He releases me abruptly, spins me around, and gives my bottom a tap. He grunts when I peek back at him, then he points at the bed.
I go to the bed and lie down, spreading myself invitingly to him. There was a time when I had shame in showing my body to him; when I didn’t understand intimacy. But now I do. He makes a twirling motion with his finger.Turn over.He wants me to turn over! I huff and glare at him. He plants his hands on his hips.
“Fine, I will turn over,” I say. “But you better be naked when you get in this bed.”
I see the flash of his teeth again, and then I gulp and wriggle over to face the wall because I believe that, finally, he will do it; he will actually take his pants off this time.
* * *
Doug
She is a demanding little thing like all humans are, always pushing for things she does not know anything the fuck about.
She wants my cock. Daily bemoans for a chance to touch it, suck it, or tend it.
She would run, fucking screaming, were she to get a look at, and should I harden, she would likely faint from sheer terror.
It is not a human cock that swings between my legs, nor that of an alpha wolf shifter, nor even an orc, but an abomination that sits somewhere between them all, made worse that a misguided surgeon tried to cut my knot from me as a child, thinking it the product of the devil that needed to be purged.
Only my shifter blood does strange things, and it grew back.
He cut it from me again.
It grew yet back again.
Five times I was strapped down, drugged, and mutilated by his blade.
And each time my knot grew back more monstrous than before.
I went back and killed the sick bastard once I had come of age. Cut his tiny green cock off and choked him with it embedded in his throat—it was the highlight of my young life.
Yet my mind does not wish to linger on these terrors of old when there is a human lass in my arms, quivering for the feel of me pressing my crotch against her plump ass. I am besotted with the sweet, beguiling lass and it causes me to make foolish decisions… like taking off my fucking pants. I can admit, though, that it will feel amazing, having her flesh fully against mine. The last time we were naked together, I had killed a bear for her.
She belongs to us,my beast advises. He is worse than Jasmine for pushing matters that should be left well alone.
And my mind lingers in the belligerent belief that she is indeed ours now, that we own this pretty little human with the tasty cunt that grows juicy for us.
* * *
