Jory Strong: Dakotah's Reading

Her scent and clothed body alone had been enough to arouse him, but as the remainder of her clothing followed her jacket, his cock enlarged past the point he could continue to endure. With a silent groan he opened his jeans, taking himself in hand, unable to bear the thought of looking away from Dakotah even long enough to remove his own clothes.

She was magnificent. Stunning. Sleek lines and erotic curves. Dark nipples and dark hair between her thighs.

The wolf wanted to howl, to pounce. To feast on her scent and taste her. To mount her and thrust its penis into her hot, wet channel.

The man wanted the same.

When she moved out of sight again, slipping behind the fallen tree, Domino released his cock and quickly stripped. He crouched, tensing involuntarily, the remembered agony of his first change still present though the pain was no longer a part of each transformation.

When he stood again he was in wolf form, though no canis lupus would ever grow to be as massive as he was. Nor would their eyes be obsidian, as black as his coat.

She was wolf now too. The breeze informed him of that.

The majority of what human scent remained in the small clearing resided on the discarded clothing, with only a tiny hint lingering on fur—just enough so that one supernatural being would recognize another.

The wolf wanted to trot right over to her, to thrust its nose against her and wallow in the rich female smell. It wanted to explore her with its tongue. To chase and hunt with her before getting down to the business of covering her body and penetrating her, sending its cock into her wet heat in a frenzy of mating bliss.

But the man held back. Knowing it would be better to let Dakotah get deeper into the forest. To allow the wolf she kept suppressed to grow stronger before approaching her.

And so they ran together, separately at first, with the huge black wolf being careful to stay downwind of the smaller, lithe brown-gray female. But when a rabbit darted from a bush, its cotton tail a ball that instinct demanded be chased, Domino surged out of the shadows and into Dakotah’s awareness.

The female wolf whirled, bracing for an attack, but when the larger male charged past her, intent on the rabbit, his scent carrying the unmistakable whiff of a being who was more than wolf, she raced after him. The wolf’s will dominating despite the human soul struggling deep inside, trying to rise to the surface.

But the wolf would not yield. It recognized what the human did not. A mate.

There was no way the wolf was going to be denied. There was no way it was going to be pressed back into the cage it lived in—not until it had been mounted by the large male whose lush scent had sent it into heat, swelling its vulva and making its hormones rage.

She caught up to him easily, yipping in ecstasy, both of them plunging through thickets, immersed in the smell of dark woods and each other as they hunted together, the shared activity bonding them, their forms defining their behavior, so that when the hunt ended in a clearing without a kill, it was the female who approached the male, rubbing her body against his, offering him a chance to inhale her scent, to lick her—the escaped rabbit no longer of interest as they nuzzled and explored, growing more eager to mate with each passing moment.

It was a brief courtship, a hurried affair done before the humans could interfere. The female presenting herself to the male, bracing as he maneuvered into position, mounting her from the back and thrusting inside, his forelegs gripping her tightly as he rutted, the tip of his penis engorging until he could no longer slide in and out of her channel.

He dismounted then, his hind leg passing over her back as he turned to face the opposite direction, the wolf form allowing his penis to flex and twist as the swollen tip remained in her vagina. Ejaculating. The tie lasting until his testicles were empty of seed.

The sun was attempting to burn through the heavy autumn fog when the large male wolf stirred, the human within waking also, both of them immediately aware of the smaller wolf curled at their back.

The wolf quivered with joy at having a mate, a companion. It whined with excitement, its body ready to nudge the female awake and cover her, tying again as it had done repeatedly throughout the night.

But the man’s will prevailed, forcing the wolf to ease away from the female and escape. A denial of the wolf’s claim of a mate echoing with each footstep as they returned to the spot where the human clothing lay in a damp pile on the ground. Where the wolf crouched, snarling, its instincts warring with those of the man, its protests absorbed and echoed in the alien cells even as the air shimmered and its form was lost.

Fuck!

Domino stood snarling and hissing. Naked in the cold, wet air, and yet he was unaware of anything beyond The Heat coursing through his body, the burning need to return to the spot he’d just escaped and take Dakotah in her human form, to rut on her as his fangs buried themselves in her flesh and he fed The Hunger.

For long moments he battled his primitive programming, taking his cock in hand and sliding up and down his shaft, the movement first heightening the need then easing it in a jet of steamy release. But the relief was short-lived, the urge to return to Dakotah a shout from every cell save what small part of him was still human.

The Heat and Hunger were a dual roar now, a demand and a seductive whisper that never relented. He was close to The Transformation. Closer than he’d let himself acknowledge.

With a curse Domino turned his back on the small clearing, on the half rotted tree trunk lying on its side, its branches reaching for the sky and draped with Dakotah’s clothing. Despite the blueprint of creation and survival that his alien ancestors had designed for the vampire race, Domino didn’t want a mate. And despite what the wolf might claim, he had done nothing more than fuck during the night. Done nothing more than enjoy a good run before finishing his business in Ashberg and leaving.

Frustration moved through him as he dressed. Irritation.

He’d hoped to hunt as a dhampir for a few more years. Hoped to retain the ability to move about during the day in a human shape for a little while longer. But his time of absolute freedom was nearly over.

Like all of his kind, he knew the symptoms well. He was close to changing. Too close to risk staying here much longer.

He needed to finish his business, to gain what remaining information he could and then destroy the last three Believers in the area. Enemies who belonged to a secret society committed to killing both his kind and anyone else not deemed human enough to suit them—though in truth, the men he’d hunted recently had been little more than twisted deviants. Afterward he would return to his parents’ home where his father and brother could see him through the change and give him first blood.

Domino skirted the dirt and asphalt lot where the carnival had stopped and set up, preferring to avoid the sharp glance and biting comments of the fortune-teller, the knowing smiles and threats of a tarot reading. He would risk another encounter with her before he returned to his parents’ home, but not now.

Dakotah woke alone. The wolf immediately lifting its muzzle to the sky, offering a long sad song of abandonment and pleading. Its howls adding to the eeriness of the fog-enshrouded day, the clearing with its shadow-trees and wet, heavy mist.

They rose as one being, the human and wolf very nearly equal in will, though their desires were divergent. Dakotah’s thoughts centered on returning to the trailer, on leaving the carnival, her mind refusing to revisit the night or wonder about the male shapeshifter she’d spent it with. The wolf wanted to track its missing mate, to be by his side night and day. To forever abandon the lonely cage of its current life.