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XADIEL
Jasmines.
Sweet motherfucking jasmines.
The scent is soft in the wind, like a mystical calling, and I stop to take it in. The beast and I are entranced, need to find this blooming scent with a small note of white musk that’s awakened my cock while out on a moonlit run.
My claws dig into the forest floor, muzzle high in the air as a hungry rumble builds in my chest.
I’m alone. The animal in me is in control, and yet I’m conscious of his every move.
We’re two beings who share a body and soul. He is me, and I am him.
Ears back, I listen for movement. There’s a lake close to where I am, but before I give in to the hunt, another scent mingles with my night bloom. I let out a low warning growl, a deep and angry rumble that lets the guards on duty know I’m here. They know better than to come near me on a run like this one. My wolf is different than others and prefers his solitude while hunting; he’s been hungry for the fresh taste of wild game, but now another desire controls us.
My apologies, Alpha.
One of the guard’s thoughts comes through the mind link before I sense them scurrying away, but I don’t respond. Not when I take another step toward the sweet scent. When with each move forward my bones reshape. They crack and shift, forcing my black fur back as bones re-align and my tanned skin prickles with goose bumps.
I vibrate with a deep sense of yearning; one I’ve never encountered before in my ninety years walking this earth. It slams into me while the cooling mist left from an earlier rain shower caresses my naked flesh. Chest expanding, I take in deep breaths while my muscles contract—my fangs drop—and a new kind of desire settles on the tip of my thick cock.
Another step, and I feel a few beads of pre-come slip from the engorged head and onto the forest floor, leaving behind a trail from my moment of weakness.
I’m throbbing. My limbs tremble.
At seven feet, I’m a beast in my human form too.
We’re on the west side of my land and away from the pack that lives near the castle, and yet, I’m finding myself jealous of anyone scenting the owner of this seducing perfume. This heady note is making me forget both my duty and the one purpose in my life I’m yet to fulfill.
I have a warlock to find. A protected queen to kill.
Their combined blood dripping from my muzzle to savor.
And yet, I’m more concerned at the moment with keeping this precious scent to myself.
Mine. All motherfucking mine.
Without conscious thought, I grip my length and stroke, never pausing in my search. It leads me about half a mile deeper into the woods and toward the edge of a clearing. The beast is present in my eyes; I feel his sharp awareness mingling with my own and if my prey were to turn around, she’d find golden eyes watching her every move. My heightened senses give me the honor of taking in the most minute details, from her skin to her hair and then the small beauty mark at the center of her back.
And motherfuck, little red is ethereal. Her lithe form is facing away from me while walking slowly into the edge of a small lake surrounded by tall grass and wildflowers. Naked, and with the moon shining over her soft skin and highlighting the fiery shade of her tresses, she wades in deeper while emitting a soft sigh when the water comes up to the very tip of her round arse.
This woman is bloody perfection.
She’s also made for me. There’s no doubt about that.
My mate.
I’ve never searched for her but instead waited patiently. I’ve never touched another, never gave in to temptation because doing so would be a stain on us. On the bond we’d forge and nurture.
Instead, I trained and fought and protected my lands. A king is never in short supply of those willing to spread their legs, both women and men, trying to win favors for their house and name, but my people know better than to try with me. I’ll always be faithful no matter the circumstance.
Moreover, I watch her with my fangs piercing my bottom lip and hips pumping against my hand without shame. Tightening my fist, I twist on the upstroke and then swipe my thumb across the slit, using the wetness there to fuck my hand.
I take in how she cups the water in her tiny hands and then brings them up, just high enough to flow down her neck and chest. Each rivulet glides over her bare flesh before disappearing beneath the calm waters, and I’m jealous of each drop. This happens a few more times, those fingers wiping across her chest and stomach before arching her back and stretching her arms high.
The breeze sweeps across us a little harder just as her head tips back, and that mouthwatering scent smacks into my senses with the force of a battering ram. My balls swell and I grind my teeth hard, fighting back the urge to come. Not until I’m inside of her. With that vow, I give myself another three punishing strokes and release my hold, hissing when the hard-as-steel flesh gives a violent jerk in the night air.
