Bound To The Beast

By Alexx Andria

Copyright © 2012 by Alexx Andria. All rights reserved.

*This naughty bit of a story is intended for mature readers only. If you’re not 18 years or older, find something else to read.

The following short story of approx.
6
,900 words is
an
erotic
romance
and it features sexual acts between
a wolf-shifter
and a curvy woman
destined to be his mate
.

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***

His black eyes shone with a mesmerizing light from across the crowded bar. The pulse of the club music throbbed all around me as I nursed my drink, waiting
for the man I knew wasn’t coming. I averted my gaze from the broad-shouldered stranger watching me with something akin to hunger. It was frightening the way his stare never faltered, as if he were waiting for the right moment to drag me into a darkened corner to rip my clothes from my body with his sharp teeth. There was something feral about the man that I couldn’t quite believe. I’d been to this club a million times and never seen anyone so dangerously hypnotic. I should’ve paid my tab and gone home when I realized the guy I’d hoped was coming had stood me up.

I tried to hide my hurt and disappointment — I shoul
d’ve known Jeremy wouldn’t come
— but I couldn’t quell the sadness t
hat bubbled from my bruised ego at being stood up again b
y the guy that had plainly told me I was his No. 3 girl.

I wasn’t the girl who turned heads but I wasn’
t ugly either. I was, as Jeremy had put it, cute, in an ordinary way. So w
hy the impossibly tall and wide—
shouldered man seemed taken with me I hadn’t a clue but it made me edgy. It was disconcerting to be regarded with such open interest. I risked a glance his way and realized with a start he was gone.

Oh
.

I stuffed down the odd flash of disappointment and went to finish my drink but just as I lifted my glass I was rudely jostled by the group next to me clamoring
for the bartender’s attention. I gasped as my drink splashed down my front, soaking my blouse with the remains of my gin and tonic.

“Sorry,” one guy tossed over his shoulder without really looking my way. I slid from my bar stool and muttered, “jerk” as I headed for the bathroom. My plan had been to rinse off as best as I could then head home, putting an end to the depressing night.

So much for getting dressed to impress, I thought grumpily as I grabbed a handful of paper towels and began mopping up t
he wetness ruining my dry-clean—
only blouse. I didn’t hear the door open but I suddenly became aware that I wasn’t alone. The hair on the back of my neck prickled and I slowly turned, praying that I was simply being melodramatic.
But somehow I knew before even turning that it was him standing there, blocking my exit and watching me with open hunger.

I turned and my heart jumped into my throat. “What are you doing?” I asked, my voice a high-pitched squeak as I flattened against the opposite wall
. “This is the l-ladies room.”

“You smell like honey and rain,” he said, his mouth curving in a sensual line that did weird things to my ability to remain standing. I almost forgot that he was likely a weirdo or psychotic killer but I remembered quickly when he began walking toward me.

“Stop!” I cried, my voice shaking. “Or I’ll scream. Get out and leave me alone and we can
just forget this ever happened and you won
’
t have to go to jail for being a creeper.
”

“Forget? And why would I want to do that? It’s taken a century to find you…I’m not about to walk away.”

“W-what? Are you crazy?” I asked, my mouth trembling. Had he said…a century?
Fabulous
. I was locked in a dimly light clu
b bathroom with a crazy person
.
Hadn’t my evening been crappy enough already? I looked furtively for something I could use as a weapon but aside from throwing soggy paper towel wads his way, I was screwed. This was how it ended, I thought grimly. Savaged by a
nutball
in a dirty bathroom. Tears pricked my eyes. “I don’t want to die,” I whispered as he strode toward me.

At my whispered plea, he simply smiled darkly and pulled me roughly to him. “Who said anything about dying, sweetling?” he murmured, crushing me against the granite of his chest
. “Humans,” he chuckled with amusement even as I stiffened against him. “Such alarmists.” He didn’t give me a chance to respond as his head dipped down and suddenly his lips were moving across mine. He smelled of masculinity and raw power; sex and leather. The heady combination was enough to dampen my fear and sharpen my sudden arousal. He pressed me against the bathroom wall
that was
covered in profane graffiti and I gasped at the shock of his
tongue searching for mine. I clung to him as he ground his hardened length against me through the rough denim of my jeans. I wiggled against the delicious pressure, quickly losing all sense of why this was a bad idea, and simply gave in to the intoxicating feel of being ravaged. Yes, ravaged was a good word for what he was doing to me. There was nothing soft or sweet about the way his hands were roaming my body as if memorizing every curve, every valley. I’d never been so consumed by another person in my life. Every boyfriend or casual sexual relationship I’d ever been in or with had always left me wanting for something deeper, more primal.
He filled his hands with my breasts and when the fabric of my blouse impeded his questing touch, he growled and simply ripped it from my body. I sucked in a shocked breath but trembled at the look of possession in his stare as he openly stared at the way my boobs overfilled the lacy cups of my black bra.

“Have you whelped yet?” he asked harshly, his eyes glittering.

His question knocked me out of my lust-filled haze. “Have I…what?” I asked, blinking in confusion. “What does that mean?”

“Have you had children?” he clarified, his voice tight as if the thought bothered him.

“N-no,” I stammered, confused.

His relief was evident as he pulled me to him and covered my mouth with his once again. His tongue dueled with mine and I forgot the odd question and simply sank into his touch. His hands, large an
d rough, kneaded my breasts, pebbling the sensitive nipples beneath the lacy fabric.
“Who are you?” I managed to gasp just as he wrenched his mouth free seconds long enough to free my breasts from the restriction of the bra. “Ohh!” My head fell back against the wall as he sucked a taut nipple into his hot mouth and I forgot why the question mattered.
I was melting from his touch as he seared a trail of desire from each breast and then down my stomach. I trembled as he ripped my jeans open, his growl
demanding
as he jerked my
pants
from my hips
. He nuzzled the soft flesh of my belly, seeming to relish the extra bit of padding around my middle whereas the other men in my sexual history had suggested I
should
hit the gym a bit more. His hot tongue stabbed into the bowl of my navel and I nearly fell to my knees. Time seemed to stop as he touched, penetrated and licked every inch of my exposed body.
It didn’t seem crazy at all that my jeans were down around my ankles and
a stranger was doing wicked, carnal things to me that I’d only dreamt of until this moment. The moment his tongue penetrated the slick folds of my most private spot, I sucked in a wild breath, gripping the thick hair of his head as he clutched my behind and pulled me to him. There was no escaping that grip and I was helpless to avoid the shuddering power rippling down my nerve endings, ripping past the barrier in my
mind that this shouldn’t be happening, and forcing me to endure the endless waves of pleasure his wicked tongue wrought on my body.
Before long I was crying out, mindless with the pleasure as it sizzled and snapped, clenching every muscle in a spasm so powerful it was near to pain.
“Ohhh God,” I sobbed, my knees wobbling as pleasure buffeted my body with cresting waves that I never imagined possible. He rose from his knees and firmly turned me so that I faced the sink.

“Hold on
,” he instructed and I gripped the porcelain with shaking fingers.
I was dazed from what I’d experienced, still in a pleasure haze, when I felt his cock nudge aside my slick folds
.
B
efore I could utter a word, he slowly impaled me on his length.
I was shocked
by the sheer girth as he stretched me fully, buried to the hilt with his massive member. I wasn’t a virgin, but I wasn’t terribly experienced either. One thing was for sure, I’d never been penetrated by anything as large as what was inside
of
me that moment.
And, oh God, it felt so good. I knew with a certainty that
this total stranger had just ruined me for other men
.

“Yesss,” he hissed, his large hips bracketing my hips as he pumped into me
. A low growl followed and I
shuddered, loving the primal sound of it.
There was something animalistic about what he was doing to me that caused me to shake with uncontrollable lust, something I’d never imagined feeling. This was what it felt like to be ravaged. And I liked it. God, how I liked it.

It was dirty and raw; primal and nasty. He was ramming his cock into me so hard it jarred my entire body. My breasts bobbed with each thrust and suddenly, his hand buried itself in my hair, wrenching my head back. I cried out in pain and pleasure, the sudden movement causing me to
writhe and beg for more.
I didn’t know his name but somehow I felt as if I knew him. It was nuts —
beyond nuts! —
but I felt an answering call in my soul that was connected to my groin. We were joined in more ways than our bodies and it was scary yet exhilarating at the same time.
I didn’t care about the how or why; I just wanted to lose myself in sensation.
He fucked me within an inch of my life. I was raw and shaking, quivering with the building pleasure as it
barreled down my nerve endings, taking no prisoners as another orgasmic wave slammed into me.
And then he growled again right before sinking his teeth into my neck near my shoulder. I yelped but endorphins were flooding my brain, washing away the pain and replacing it with bone-melting pleasure.

It was several moments before his thrusts stopped completely and he withdrew his spent cock from my dripping channel. I stumbled away from the sink, breathing heavy as I feared I would embarrass myself and fall to the floor.
C
olor rode his high cheekbones and the dim light created shadows on his face.
He tucked his enormous cock away and his stare strayed to where he’d bit me. My cheeks flared as I remembered what he’d done and I rubbed at the sore spot.

“You will come to love the bite,” he said, reaching down to grab my ruined blouse and hand it to me. I accepted the torn shirt and struggled to make it appear as normal as possible. His eyes glittered with possession as he watched me dress. I felt exposed and vulnerable, not to mention confused about what had just happened. I mean, I knew what had happened —
he’d given me the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life —
but I was still not quite sure how he’d managed to do it without me screaming my head off. And what the hell did he mean, I would
come to love the bite
? Like this was going to happen again? As far as
I
knew one
night stands in dingy bathrooms were not an invitation for a relationship.
Besides, just because he was pretty talented in the sex department, didn’t mean
I
wasn’t still thinking he was crazy. And
I
didn’t date crazy. It was one of the few deal-breakers
I
still held onto.
He held his hand out to me. “Come.”