Cry Wolf (6 page)

“This
is
you,” Kelly said. “All of you.” There were times when it was appropriate to go slow, to tease, to lick, to take one’s time, to make one’s partner go completely out of his mind, and Kelly hoped she would get that opportunity in the future, because by her estimation, his cock was as wonderfully sculpted as the rest of him. But she was hungry and hornier than she had been in a good long while, and she needed a good, long cock down her throat. She moaned in delight as she tasted him, strong, savoury flesh filling her mouth. Malcolm cried out over and over again as she wrenched pleasure from him.

When she raked her teeth over the stretch of hypersensitive skin, he shouted, a mixture of an aroused growl and a helpless human scream, a sound that went right to the centre of pleasure that pulsed through her body, but she didn’t touch herself. The blissful stimulation of him moving in her mouth, sliding over her tongue, and oh, the
taste
of him… She thought she might come just from that. She had before—the second time she had deep-throated David after discovering just how much she loved giving oral to a man. She had no way of knowing whether it was a wolf thing or whether it was something that had always turned her on, but as long as it so thoroughly did, she wasn’t going to overanalyse it.

Kelly made her own sounds, her growl mingling with the vocal appreciation of a woman being particularly well fed. She kept her palms flat on his hips, not so he wouldn’t gag her but so that she could control how deeply she took him and when. She focused all aspects of her sensuality on that one part of him, flush with blood flow and rich with the musky scent of male wolf. Saliva smeared over her chin and dripped over his sac.

“Oh God, I’m going to—” He tangled his fingers in her hair, thrusting his hips more strongly than she held him still.

She took him all the way to the root and swallowed to tighten her throat around his cockhead.

Come for me, wolf
, she thought smugly. She thought he might have pulled out some of her hair as he clenched his fist and pressed her close. His hips left the ground with the force of his pleasure. She couldn’t taste his cum, but she could feel its heat sinking down her throat. Her body rocked through his orgasm, yearning for her own, but she still didn’t touch herself or rub herself against him. Her moisture cooled against her inner thighs. Inside her, though, her core was still molten. She felt as though she could climb him like a tree in spite of the softening cock in her mouth. Kelly let it slip out of her, treating it a little more tenderly than during the heat of the previous moment.

His grip on her hair loosened, but he did not release her. Malcolm propped himself up on an elbow and stared at her with hooded eyes.

“Why did you do that?” he asked.

A thrum of energy still coursed through him, vibrating through her fingers. His wolf was not yet finished, which was just fine with her. She didn’t even bother wiping the back of her hand over her mouth, where his pre-cum and her saliva shone in the moonlight.

“Because I wanted to,” she replied. “And because you needed to let it loose.”

“I was doing just fine,” he said. Tension tightened his throat.

“Don’t lie to me,” Kelly said. “I can always tell, even when you lie to yourself. Do you want to hurt them? Do you want to hurt Ki?”

“No! God, no.”

She crawled up his body, one of her teeth going sharp. It pricked her lip, drawing blood. It was nowhere near the temptation of full human blood, but Malcolm’s eyes darted towards the darkness welling on her lip.

“Do you want to hurt
me
?” she asked. She did not quite kiss him. She ran her lower lip against the length of his jaw, smearing her blood over him. He couldn’t stop himself from shaking.

“Very much so,” he replied. He grabbed her neck but did not squeeze, though his hand grew more and more tense as he brought her mouth closer to his, drawn to the smell of blood but reluctant nonetheless.

“It’s okay,” she whispered.

He touched the tip of his tongue to the place where she had bitten herself. He groaned at the taste, and suddenly he swept his arm around her and held her tightly against him as he sucked her lower lip into his mouth, biting down again when the blood stopped coming. She wasn’t prey, but she felt consumed nonetheless.

Malcolm flipped them over so that his larger body pinned her down. He moved his hand from her neck to her breast. His rough palm stimulated her nipple, already hard from the cold she could barely feel and simply from being so turned on. Her piercing there pulled on her nipple even more. She ghosted her hands up his ribs and tried not to dig in, not yet, not when his grey eyes were serious within their shadow over her.

“What have you done to me?” he asked again, but it seemed less like an accusation this time. “Why am I doing this?”

“I just wanted to show you it isn’t all bad,” Kelly said. “Being a werewolf doesn’t have to be the end of the world. There are things that you can’t do anymore, but there are new things that you can enjoy. Pleasure you can no longer experience, but also pleasure you have never known before.”

“I want to go back,” Malcolm said.

But Kelly felt the renewal of his interest stirring against her thigh, and she reached for him. His cock was slick with her saliva and his cum. He caught his breath, briefly closing his eyes against her touch.

“You can’t go back,” Kelly said. “There is only ever forward. But it can be good. I promise. Can you honestly tell me that you don’t enjoy this?”

“Oh, this I enjoy,” Malcolm said, although his eyebrows drew together. He pinched his fingers over the piercing on her nipple and twisted, making her gasp and arch her back, filling his hand with her breast. “But it’s never been like this before.”

“No?” Kelly asked.

“No.” He did not elaborate, just kissed her again, too softly.

He was all tongue and she needed teeth. She bit her lip again to flood her mouth with her blood. When the taste reached him, he twisted her nipple again, this time until she moaned high into his kiss. The blood alone was enough to make him hard, his cock searching for her entrance every time she canted her hips up to meet his.

“Get inside, Malcolm,” Kelly said with a growl, “or I’ll rip that thing off you and do it myself.”

“Who am I to deny such a polite request?” Malcolm replied. He hissed as she wrapped her legs around him and scratched her toes—sharp-tipped with claws—down the backs of his thighs. The green glow in her eyes reflected in his as he positioned himself and thrust into her. There was no need to ease in, not when she was more than wet enough. She practically pulled him in with her inner muscles. He jerked, slamming in all the way to the base.

“Yessss,” Kelly hissed in encouragement.

He hooked one of her legs over his arm, almost bending her in half to give him room to brace himself and speed up. She pulled him down to kiss him again. When their sharpened teeth clicked against each other, this time it was not in battle. Their growls, lower and smoother, overlapped again, but not in anger. They tangled limbs and hair, melting the snow around them into steam almost like fog until grass and dead leaves were rough on her back. She was brought back again to her first time with a wolf. It seemed only appropriate and perhaps a little sad that she would pass on that experience to Malcolm now, even if she was not the one who had changed him. She sensed his pleasure, though, and feeling his pleasure compounded her own until she scratched bloody lines down his back to make him shout and bring him to his climax just as she felt her own reach its crest.

“Hard,” she said hoarsely. The wolf was upon her, but she wanted to finish as a woman.

As he came inside her, he bit the base of her neck. She felt the tingle of magic where the werewolf had already begun to heal her at the origin of the wound. A mighty, frigid wind swept through the clearing.
It’s been a long time since that happened
, Kelly thought blearily. It rocked them together, a counterpoint to the exquisite heat they made where they were connected. Her cunt tightened, drenching him as her own orgasm crashed through her.

Kelly’s grin was fierce. She shifted the leg he had hooked over his arm to wrap it around his neck. There were many benefits to being flexible.

“Run with me, Malcolm,” she said, the wolf harsh in her voice.

“I used to be tired after this,” he replied, looking somewhere to the side of her. His eyes were a little glazed, but his heartbeat raced in excitement against her chest.

“But you’re not now,” Kelly said.

“No. What else has changed?”

“Many things,” Kelly said, untangling herself from him.

When he slipped out of her, his seed dripped down her thighs to join the wetness of her own pleasure.

“But hopefully not in the ways that count,” Kelly added. She helped him to his feet. “Am I like Grant, Malcolm?”

“No. You’ve got some of the things that he had, but you’re not him. You’re not,” he replied, reassuring her.

“Then why do you suspect that that’s what you’ll become?” Kelly asked. “Grant was insane. Everyone’s a little nutty, but he was completely pecan pie. Yes, you’ll have some adjustments to make, but I’m here to help you. I’ve got the experience and control that you’ll learn in time. And I also know when to let experience and control fuck off and give the wolf room to stretch its legs.”

“I’m just so angry,” Malcolm said. “I’m furious at people I love. All the time.”

“The wolf makes it worse, but that kind of anger is normal,” Kelly said, stroking his black hair and running her claws over his scalp. “It’s called grief, honey, and it’s okay. It’s okay to miss what you were. But change is the only constant in life. As therianthrope and now lycanthrope, you should know that better than most.”

“I didn’t choose this,” Malcolm said, gesturing to his human body, but Kelly watched as fur began to climb up his torso like vines. He truly had a gift.

“Neither did I,” Kelly said. “Most werewolves don’t. But there’s nothing we can do about it. So let me show you the other thing that makes it worthwhile. Change and run with me.”

Kelly fell forward onto her front paws, creaking back into her wolf form. Malcolm joined her in wolf skin, and after some hesitation he followed her into the woods.

Chapter Three

The next morning found them curled together in wolf skin, for closeness rather than warmth.

Before Malcolm could wake up, Kelly transformed back into her human skin and tucked herself against the rise and fall of his chest. They had run until dawn tinged the horizon and each breath had been a cold, exhilarating knife in her lungs.

She stroked his wiry fur and slipped into his mind like a warm bath until he surfaced into early wakefulness. His dreams were that of a man, but his wakefulness was that of the werewolf, simpler and more straightforward. Hunger. To his wolf’s nose, though, she would smell like kin rather than prey. She might look like a woman, and she might call what she was human skin, but she wasn’t human anymore.

His eyes opened, abruptly focusing on her.

“Malcolm,” Kelly said. “I know you’re hungry. But if you hold yourself together and turn back into a man, we can have breakfast with the others. Do you think you can do that?”

Kelly eased closer as his body shrank underneath her. His emerging expression was pained. He let her lay against him, however, so his regret wasn’t necessarily for what he had done with her. Kelly knew from experience that the actions of a night could seem embarrassing at best in the morning.

“Do you feel any better?” Kelly asked, now running her fingers over the dark hair on his chest instead of his fur.

The whirl of his thoughts came through her fingers like wisps of smoke. She needed him to answer out loud, because that made it truer than if he kept it inside. Inside, he could talk himself out of it. Inside, he could return to the moribund quicksand he had created for himself after his transformation. The hunger that no ordinary food could satisfy, the way his friends now smelt like enemies or food, the violence of his desires—these things only confirmed to him that he was a monster. And if he was a monster, then he deserved every bit of the dreadful loneliness that he’d believed he had left behind him once before.

And so the thoughts went around in circles, deeper and deeper and deeper. Kelly knew where the whirlpool would take him. As she’d told Ki, it would end in blood either way. Kelly didn’t think Malcolm would ever forgive himself if he hurt any of his pack, and they would never forgive themselves if he killed himself.

“Yes,” Malcolm finally admitted. “Not completely, though.”

“That will take time,” Kelly said. “But you’ve got something a lot of other werewolves don’t have.”

“Friends?” Malcolm said with all the dryness of a canned answer no one ever actually believed.

Kelly smiled. “No,” she said. “Werewolves usually have an abundance of those, although the pecking order can resemble that of a small-town high school. No, most werewolves were human to begin with. They knew nothing of transformative magic like you did. They truly were taken from their lives. Your friends know what we are and what they are, and they haven’t kicked us out yet.”

“Renee shot and stabbed Grant because of what he was,” Malcolm said.

“Well, damn, wouldn’t you?” Kelly asked.

“You didn’t,” Malcolm said. “None of your pack did.”

“No, I didn’t. But the pack kicked him out.”

“Why didn’t
you
kill him?” Malcolm asked.

“Sympathy for the devil,” she said. “I don’t know whether you noticed, but I’m not exactly the most normal werewolf myself.”

“Do they not like witches?” Malcolm asked, a little surprised.

“Haven’t you learned by now that most magical folk don’t particularly trust other magical folk?” Kelly said. “Since witches are usually human, werewolves are a little less leery of them than they are of shifters. But witches don’t like beasts and beasts don’t quite understand witches. I didn’t feel up to explaining things to them, and most of them didn’t bothering trying to understand me.”

Malcolm’s stomach growled. Kelly’s own let out a distress signal in reply.