Viola Grace - Saguinary Seduction, page 10
Now, the black werewolf had his cock firmly lodged in the blond’s ass and it swelled so that they were all quiet now, except for their panting, desperate breaths.
To others, if anyone had dared watch, they would have appeared quiet, but Usha felt the blinding waves of her orgasm 84
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drown her over and over again. A human would have died of such pleasure. They stayed like this for over an hour, each caught up in his or her pleasure until suddenly they all came to a quaking, final climax and separated.
The two males fell onto all fours and stood with slightly hunched backs in surrender. Usha considered them for a moment. She was horny just watching their submission and she noticed that they, too, wanted more. They silently dry humped and their legs shuddered. Her swollen pussy convulsed at the sight, but when she smelled the night air, it called to her. Her sensitive nostrils picked up the deep aroma of the forest, the scent of her pack. They turned and began to run on all fours, Usha leading them. Somehow, she knew she was the alpha female. Is there an alpha male? She couldn’t remember. The full moon over them made an icy shine on their fur as they ran into the black of the forest.
They came to a clearing and she sensed more wolves, but they were smaller. They were the massive European wolf species, much larger than their American counterparts, but dwarves compared to the great werewolves. The wolf pack acknowledged their presence and the alpha male approached Usha. They sniffed and he indicated his desire to mate with her. The two male werewolves snarled their displeasure and the wolf pack dissolved into the night.
They ran on, their massive paws almost soundless on the bed of fallen leaves. Running made Usha feel free. She was running to something she had missed. Suddenly, the scent of something powerful and ominous stopped them. Usha cautiously poked her nose through the foliage and saw them.
The pack was not the ordinary wolf—these were werewolves.
They were mostly all a wild wolf color, but some were reddish, blond and brown. They broke into the clearing and growls seemed to surround them. She wondered for a moment if they would be attacked and killed, but the other werewolves seemed wary of them, even through their aggressive stances.
Perhaps it was not them whom the others feared, she realized, when she caught sight of him. She looked at the 85
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center of the band and he stood there, half-man still. His powerful chest and thighs were covered with dense, white-silver wolf fur. She was astonished at the power that radiated from him. His icy blue eyes, even as a wolf, made her male companions roll in submission. She just stared at him. He stood stiffly, but as she watched, his sheath swelled and his cock began to emerge. It was wet and very red against his silvery white fur. Although she had mated with the other males, this one scared her. His body size was imposing, but the size of his cock was frightening.
The pack circled them and watched with interest. She felt a mix of anger and lust as the alpha male approached her. The other wolves snuffed and some pushed others to get a better view. The silvery white male was massive, yet dignified. His tongue hung out of his mouth hungrily and his cock bobbed as he walked. She refused to back away for she was the alpha female. He may be bigger, but she knew that she was his prize.
His hungry look affirmed that. She stared into his luminous blue eyes and saw something timeless and infinitely more terrifying than she had seen in the other wolves.
She looked around at the others who watched with jealous growls in their throats. She could hear the eerie sound of half-human speech as both males and females whispered about the outcome. “Would they fight? Would they mate? Where was his mate?”
She could hear the deep growl building in her own throat as well. The other werewolves appeared to be wary of her now.
Every time she moved, they backed away a little more.
Suddenly the attention was no longer on her. The foliage parted and a giant werewolf walking on his hind legs appeared.
He was a grey wolf with the agouti colored fur so typical for ordinary wolves. His golden eyes shone with fury and his teeth were bared for a fight. His thick cock stood exposed and red against the grey fur of his belly.
The silver male howled angrily and prepared to fight the interloper, but the grey wolf spoke to Usha instead. “You are not welcome here. Artaxias the Silver-mane is my mate for life.
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No mere female, however alpha she is, can take the man I love.
I have awaited your arrival, but you have been away for so long that he is now mine! Do you hear me, bitch? You will not stain my lover’s beautiful silver coat with your filth!”
“I do not want him. Why would someone as lovely as I seek to mate with a dirty thing like that,” she said unwisely. She wondered at her brazen stupidity.
“You dare call my lovely mate dirty?” the grey wolf growled. “You, who smells of human? You, who has mated already with the lowly members of the pack? I smell it on you, woman!”
“I have no desire to mate with either of you!” she cried in an attempt to smooth over her mistake.
“Then why does your swollen pussy drip with lust for his manhood? Why do your loins tremble at the sight of my engorged member? Liar! I shall kill you and devour your sweet flesh!” The grey wolf mocked a smile at her, but his face was very serious.
Usha debated turning and running into the forest, but something in her refused. As the alpha female, she could not do such a shameful thing, besides, she did desire them—both of these magnificent creatures. She was drawn to their incredible male bodies so much that she cared not if she died.
“You are fooling yourselves. I do not desire you, for I have mates far more desirable than you,” she added rashly.
Her two companions of before, the tawny and black werewolves, still smelling of their previous mating, slunk off into the blackness of the forest. She heard their rapid retreat and knew that she was alone in this fight.
“Oh, is that so?” the grey wolf asked.
“Tigran the Grey, please let her go,” the great silvery male pleaded. “I only wanted to taste female flesh once, but you are my only true love.”
The grey wolf looked even more enraged. He made a spitting growl and roared an incoherent oath. “I know your mind Artaxias, the Silver-mane! How could you desire her over me? And you claim to love me? I should beat you after I kill 87
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her. I will beat you into submission! Artaxias, you are a slut!”
She only heard the angry roar as the grey wolf was on her, biting and slashing. The pain of his bites was punctuated by orgasmic waves as their blood mingled. He tore at her, trying to find a way to slash her belly. She attacked his neck and nothing he did could dislodge her, so he roared in anguish. His size was greater than hers, but she fought well. The will to stay alive took over and they rolled in a fury of deadly claws and blazing, angry teeth. Every time he bit her, she was shocked with the erotic pleasure it gave her. She blinked when, in a flash, the silver wolf entered the fray, fighting against the grey male.
Soon the fight was between the two males and they tore at each other. It became obvious that the grey wolf was the stronger of the two. He beat the silver wolf to the ground and mounted him. He began to thrust and the other raised his rump to receive him. Usha watched as the two became joined and pleasure washed over their furious eyes. They were magnificent beasts, joined in a frenzy of passion.
She then caught the silver wolf’s look. He was a huge wolf and, as he stood on all fours, his cock jerked. She was willing to risk her life for what he offered so she ran under him and raised her rump despite the growled warning of the grey wolf.
The silver wolf began to thrust and his movements seemed to increase the grey wolf’s pleasure as he groaned deeply and ceased to complain. He entered her and she cried out in pleasure as his huge cock burned her insides. She heard the two males growling in pleasure and the grey wolf now matched the silver’s thrusts with his own until all three of them howled in passion causing the onlookers to howl in chorus with them.
The night filled with the sounds of their explosive union and the pack echoed their cries of passion as if it were their own.
For two hours, their mating continued with the rising and release as they remained joined as three in their combined rapture. Finally, they released their hold and fell apart. The night was silent now as the breathless spectators sat motionless on their haunches. Usha watched as the two giant werewolves 88
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began to return to a human form. She also felt the change and began to scream.
* * * *
They woke up alone in a copse littered with flowers and mushrooms. Usha slept between the two naked men, one with a peaceful, youthful face, despite his shocking silver hair and the other gorgeous hunk with black hair. She kissed them both and they woke. Artaxias the Silver-mane, smiled. “How was it?”
Tigran, the black-haired male looked at her mischievously.
“Just like our first time together? Was it just as good for you?”
Usha nodded. “Thank you both. We have to do this every year from now on to celebrate. There is nothing like the first time for a girl and my first time with you two, so many years ago, was awesome. I am so happy that we were able to relive it!”
Tigran the Grey smiled and stretched luxuriantly. “I’m hungry after all of that. I say we kill a steer.”
Usha laughed, but her belly felt empty, too. She would be in heat for another week and they planned the reenactment for every night for it had been such fun. After that, they would return to the castle to continue their research.
Usha rolled over on top of Artaxias and he growled a welcome, despite his human form. “I wonder what my colleagues are doing now?” Usha asked.
“Silly,” Tigran the Grey said. “They have all been dead for the past twenty years. Nobody lives as long as us wolves. And remember my dear, how many of them were killed in that accident ten years ago when they came to check on you.
Interesting, but I must say, the flesh was exceedingly stringy.”
She felt the urge come over her again, and by the look of the swollen cocks of her two mates, she knew that they felt the same.
89
Devil Woman
AP Miller
eing a duke had its advantages. Parties, brothels, pubs.
BBeing able to travel from his mansion in England to his estate in France as the seasons changed, and being able to do as he pleased, was the life of any wealthy, single man.
But not so, for eighteen year old Drake De Savoy, who sat down by the mill pond pulling petals off of a Black Eyed Susan and chanting the silly phrase, “She loves me. She loves me not.” Who was he kidding? She was interested in gifts and parties and, well…men.
Sarah Lewis was out of his league, he knew, but still his perusal of her charms always failed to lure her into his embrace. Her idea of a real man was someone tall, dark and handsome. A filthy rich titled man, or…a real highwayman. He bent down once more over the water and still couldn’t see his reflection change into what she wanted. He would always be the thin, plain looking, gangly young man, that no woman would want. Sighing, he tipped backward on his heels, stood and walked at a slow pace back to the mansion.
His father would be expecting him as well, to continue more of his teachings, and getting him ready to travel back to France, and more training in fencing. He was actually looking forward to it. This warm season he had spent the entire time wallowing in self pity over Sarah—watching her from far away manipulate the men who surrounded her in such a way that 90
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they would do all of her bidding. He wanted desperately to become one of those men. If only she had noticed him once, looked in his direction. That alone, would have lasted him a lifetime.
Mattie, the head servant, was in the scullery kitchen just adding more wood to the fireplace when he walked in. “Oh, there ye are, laddie! Be a good boy and lift that kettle over the fire for me?” He felt Mattie’s gaze on him, watching him worriedly. “Poor lad, what’s wrong?”
Drake shook his head as if to say nothing was wrong, but he realized she knew better. “Don’t be late for dinner, dear, I am makin’ yer favorite—roast goose with cranberry. Should be ready in three hours time.”
He smiled. “Thank you.” Mattie had practically raised him from infancy and probably knew him better than his own parents.
He glanced out the open scullery door and for a moment watched Albert plucking the goose. While he lifted the heavy cauldron filled with water and placed it over the fire, he thought about his mother, busy entertaining the guests, one of them his future wife. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of her, and not one of desire.
Once he was done he began to walk toward his rooms on the other side of the house. Using the scullery entrance wasn’t proper for the masters of the house, but Drake knew what awaited him in the parlor where his mother was entertaining his future bride and her own mother, so he defied rules and used the entrance to escape being seen by his mother and the guests. He needed just a little more time to scrape his confidence together before joining them.
* * * *
Anastasie La Fontaine sat quietly, and extremely bored, sipping tea, trying so desperately not to hear the conversation at hand. She wanted to scream at her mother for doing this to her, for forcing her to wed a young man she had never met.
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Raised in a prim and proper home, she knew this would be her destiny, as it was with all young ladies of good birth.
Gone would be the debutante balls, the masques, and all the traveling she did with her family to France. She would forever be forced into a life of servitude for one man, a man she didn’t love. She had asked her parents, “But what of love?”
Bah! That made no difference according to her father.
“You will learn to love him, my dear.” Her mother’s statement broke Anastasie’s trance. She placed the empty tea cup back onto the tray on the table, then folded her small gloved hands back in her lap. This would never do! She would have to run away! But where would she go? Surely her father would send out the entire militia to locate her.
Duchess De Savoy waved for the servant to bring in the cakes and more tea. “Oh where is that son of mine?” The heat was unbearable and she slapped her fan open in a huff and waved it in front of her flushed cheeks.
“It is quite all right, Duchess. Anastasie and I have time to wait. I am sure he will arrive soon,” Lady La Fontaine replied matter of fact in her heavy French accent. She glanced about the room, openly admiring the lovely Burgundy damask drapery, and the Victorian style furniture. The Persian carpets caught her attention, which continued the flow of the conversation.
Anastasie stood and walked to the window. She sat on the edge and watched the horses out in the pasture, thinking about how dull her life would be if she had to live outside of the confines of the beautiful estate in France. She noticed the house on the far hill just near the top. What a strange structure, very unlike the other buildings here. The sun was beginning to set just beyond the mountains. She watched the yellow orange hues turn to grayish purple wisps, before the sky turned to total darkness.
Anastasie saw a glow in one of the windows of the house on the hill. She peered harder and noticed the flickering flame of one lone candle on the windowsill. Strange as it seemed the glow in the room was quite bright just for one candle. She 92
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wondered who lived there. Her thoughts were interrupted by Mattie announcing dinner, and the thought of that made her quite famished all of a sudden.
“Come, shall we dine?” Duchess De Savoy led her company into the large dining room. The scent of freshly cooked goose wafted up Anastasie’s nostrils.
It looked like the Duchess had chosen her very best china for the table setting. Silver candelabras shone, evidently polished to the hilt, and the china gleamed so that one could almost see their reflection in the plates. The table was laden with various fruits and freshly baked bread, the enticing aroma entering her nostrils.
The women were seated, wine was poured, and they had just begun to eat the first course when Drake stumbled in, her future husband. He was a bit ruffled and tucked his shirt tails in apologetically. Anastasie saw his mother give him a look of warning. Instead of arguing with her, he used diplomacy by remaining silent, and sat down in his father’s chair since the duke was away on royal business and wasn’t expected back until the month’s end.
Anastasie knew Drake was now in charge.
* * * *
Drake woke up in a sweat. His body sprung upward and he shrugged off the sheets. He ran splayed fingers through his dark hair. A dream…it was only a dream… With the flames still steady and high in the fireplace bathing his room in soft, flickering light, he was able to gaze around his bedchamber. Everything was normal yet the dream seemed so real. He looked at the pillow next to him, fearful that he’d find Anastasie next to him, but she wasn’t there. He swung his feet over the side of the bed, then put on his robe. He fetched the candle from the table in his room and lit it. Taking it with him, he walked out into the hallway. He looked left then right. The moon was full this particular night and he felt as if something was wrong but couldn’t figure it out. It was a gut wrenching 93
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feeling that had woken him from a sound slumber. Was something wrong with Mother? She was not so young anymore and had not felt well of late. He often worried about her. He walked down the second hallway to his mother’s rooms, knocked lightly, but no answer. Slowly he cracked the door open, it creaked a bit and he stopped. Closing his eyes tightly at the sound, hoping not to wake anyone he crept into her room.
