Ladies Prefer Champagne Alpha Male Romance Mega Bundle (5 page)

Morning

We lay in bed the next morning, talking.

“Why do you call yourself Frost?” I asked, running my fingers along his well-sculpted abs. I had tried to tickle him but to no avail. He, however, seemed to be able to tickle me at will.

“All wolves have names like that. You know Vicious. And my father was Pallor.”

“But why?”

“It’s just a tradition, I guess. You know, all names used to mean something once. It’s just now that most people have forgotten the meanings of their names.”

Fair enough, I thought. I climbed on top of him once more, as I had once during the middle of the night, and rubbed my pussy against his werecock, teasing it into hardness beneath me.

I slid down on him and rode him for the third time, bouncing on him until the knot slid into me, at which point he rolled me onto my back and pounded me. I whimpered and cried the whole time, pleasure and pain overwhelming me as he fucked me. Once again, he let loose, filling my womb with his hot wolf cum, his load sticky against my pussy walls.

For the rest of the day, I could barely walk. My body was sore. My hips were sore. My pussy was sore. My breasts were sore from his love bites.

We packed what few things we had and loaded them onto his motorcycle. We stopped at a gun shop just outside of the town and bought a box of shotgun shells, just in case.

With those safely in hand, we took to the highway, riding off into the midday sun and the unknown…

~

The days and nights of passion and loving blended one into another as we slid down sun soaked highways, fought our way through torrential downpours, and always came back to a dirty, dingy motel room or, if there were none to be found, we simply pitched a tent in the middle of a forest.

It was an old, dirty REI tent. Where Frost got it and why he had it with him, I never knew and I never thought to ask. It smelled vaguely of tobacco, and its scent drew me in, promising more nights of passion, more nights of spent pleasure and lust.

The tent had once been green but it had long since faded to a dull brown. All the better not to be seen in the darkness of the night which cloaked our passions. Our moans and screams and shrieks gave us away enough.

It was always my job, my eternal task, to go and shoplift us some food. Frost was particularly fond of bacon and raw steak.

He had an old cast iron skillet he had been carrying around with him, strapped onto the back of his bike with the rest of his worldly possessions, decrepit and dry, crusted with the long since carbonized remnants of past nomadic meals.

I would do my best to spirit away a package of bacon or two for him, or even a slobbery, nasty raw steak, which he would sink his fangs into with undisguised pleasure and lust. Eating gave him energy and strength. It all but lit him on fire and before long, he would be on top of me.

He all but tore off my shirt, lacerating my bra (another thing I had to constantly shoplift) and freeing my generous breasts.

“Oh, baby, be gentle…” I would coo half-heartedly as he set upon my tender flesh, suckling and nibbling me. He loved my breasts: loved to cover them with love bites, loved to nibble and tease them, loved to devour my hot flesh and tug at my skin with his razor sharp fangs, reminding me always of what he was…

The feeling alone of his mouth on my sensitive flesh drove me wild. I wanted more and more. I pulled his head closer to me. He would bury his face in my bountiful chest, hungrily gobbling at my nipples, his hot tongue lashing over them.

Overhead, the night sky or the tops of the forest would watch serenely as he violated me hungrily, watch as I forced my hand into his pants, feeling that hot, wolfish cock.

“I want you inside of me…” I would find myself moaning, a constant song of lust that seized me every evening. The stars seemed to give testament to my desire as I felt his thick cock pulse in my hand.

“Oh, fuck…” he moaned, his hungry breath washing over me.

“I want you to fuck me like a dog fucks a bitch…” I growled, nibbling at his neck and pulling at his hair, rubbing the veiny, fleshy shaft in my hand, feeling its barely contained power pulsing before me.

“Fuck…”

“I want you to spread me open…” I moaned as he sank one of his fangs into my nipple, drawing a trickle of blood…

Suddenly, he would force me up, off the ground and onto his bike. He liked to bend me over, my ass up in the air, still clad in jeans or a skirt. He had an old pair of hand cuffs that he could quickly slap onto my hands, binding me to his bike.

He liked me like this. He liked me vulnerable.

He’d strip me naked after that.

His arousal was all but evident in the air, the sounds of the forest or the night sky around us yielding to his impassioned breathing and my anticipatory moans and gasps. The feeling of the cool air brushing over my hot, needy skin drove me wild.

I heard him take off his belt. And then came the first strike of the leather. It lanced across my bare ass. I squealed with pain and pleasure as he beat me, striking my ass over and over, raising delicious red welts over my bottom that would ache as we rode the next morning.

I couldn’t help but rub myself against the seat of the bike as he laid into me, pounding my fleshy cheeks. My pussy was leaking like a punctured spigot. Girl cum ran in streams down my bare, shapely legs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” I moaned pathetically, writhing and wiggling beneath his assault.

Finally, he seemed to have decided that I had had enough. What the criteria in his mind were, I’ll never know. All I knew was that now, he dropped the belt and I heard his pants unzip.

Then, I felt him mount the bike behind me.

And then, before I felt him slide his length into me, before I succumbed to his power and his lust and his hunger, I felt him lean himself gently and tenderly and delicately down onto my back, pressing his weight into me. This drove me even harder into the seat of the bike. And since I was cuffed, I couldn’t get away…

With a groan, he drove his cock into me, spearing me with a single thrust. I threw my head back and groan, squealing as he pounded me, moaning like a stuck pig as he gripped my brutalized ass, driving his dick harder and harder into my aching pussy, in turn driving my sensitive, swollen clit into the seat of the bike.

“Oh, god, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…” I moaned, whining pathetically.

And then, before long, I would feel it: the way his muscles tightened, his abs seeming to grip my sore ass as my tight hole brought him to the crescendo and height of his excruciating pleasure.

“Oh, god!” he would yell as he came, his cock pulsating and filling me with his thick, hot wolf seed. I closed my eyes in pleasure and pride: pleasure, for obvious reasons: the thick cock inside of me, filling my wet, needy hole with deliciously hot, sticky cum.

And pride? Pride because it was my pussy that had made him cum. Pride because it was my body that he craved above all things…

Finally, he pulled out of me and sat against the bike, spent, as our juices dribbled out of my sore, well-fucked hole… It would only be a few minutes before the wolf would wake again to make me his once more, and so I savored these moments of relief, before our passion would enflame me once more.

Overhead, the night sky glittered until it blushed with the oncoming sun, a blush matched only by the redness of my cheeks as we finally fell asleep in each others loving, impassioned arms.

Attacked

I awoke to find him sitting up, his nose up in the air, the very picture of a wolf, sniffing at some unusual presence, something that just did not seem quite right…

“Frost, babe…” I said, rolling over in my half-awoken delight from the previous night’s loving. “What is it?”

“I smell…” He gave the air another tentative sniff. The look of apprehension on his face suddenly darkened, giving away to pure worry, pure fear. I had never seen him so scared and he looked at me, his fear seeming to grow as his eyes raked over me.

“Gasoline. Metal. They’re coming. Vicious’s gang.”

I found myself gasping, a well of tears caught in my throat. Of course, we hadn’t just been running for the sake of running. We had been running from actual enemies. Actual cruel, mean people. Mean… werewolves? Who wanted to do us harm.

Who wanted to kill Vicious.

And who would almost certainly rape me.

“What… what do we do?” I asked as Vicious stood, beginning to pack up. I joined him, disassembling our little tent as fast as I could with trembling hands.

“It’ll be fine… It’ll be fine…” Vicious repeated over and over again, which of course assured me the exact opposite: we most certainly were NOT fine.

“Where can we go? Where can we run to?”

“I don’t know… I don’t know…” Vicious growled, trying to pack up the pots and pans.

Then, his ears perked up, as if involuntarily. He growled, a low, guttural noise that I had never heard before in my life.

“What…”

And then I heard it too. The sound of engines. Big, powerful engines. If they were close enough that I could hear them…

Vicious dove into one of his duffel bags and reappeared momentarily with a revolver. He snapped six rounds into the chamber with his deft fingers.

“Aim for the heads, just to be certain…”

“Wait, wait…” I mumbled, looking over the gun as I received it into my inexperienced hands. “Am I… Am I supposed to use this? On them?”

I paused for a moment, almost unable to say the word.

“On werewolves?”

“Yes, obviously!” Vicious roared, obviously frustrated at my lack of understanding, at how slowly I was apprehending the seriousness of the situation. “You will shoot them and hope they die!”

“But… Don’t the bullets have to be, like—“

“Silver, yes, they are!” Vicious scowled in frustration. “Still, aim for the head—just because the silver burns, doesn’t mean it’ll kill.”

Kill. I gasped, looking down at the revolver. It suddenly felt so much heavier in my hand…

“You want me to… to kill them?”

“Of course!” Frost grunted, rising up behind his motorcycle with, much to my amazement, two vicious looking blades, curved and wicked looking. I couldn’t help but let my jaw drop, watching Vicious pick his way over our desiccated camp site.

“I’m tired of running. Now, we fight.”

~

As if on cue, the roar of motorcycles sounded out from just beyond the tree line. My eyes widened and I looked around, terrified, trying to figure out where they were coming from.

“Where are they, Frost?” I gasped, gripping the gun close to me. I had only shot a gun a few times in my life, and then, it was just a little target pistol—not this thing.

This was a man’s gun—the kind used to put down charging grizzly bears or hopped-up drug addicts. I needed to use two hands to hold it out in front of me.

Frost threw his head back and took a deep breath, his enhanced werewolf abilities allowing him, no doubt, to sniff out their exact positions.

“They’re… They’re all around us. Get close to me, Tia.”

I scrambled over him and pressed myself to his back, holding the gun out in front of me, level with the darkness.

It was only then, pressed up against Frost’s powerful, muscular body, feeling his sweat and the roughness of his jeans and shirt, that I realized I was still naked. Good one, Tia. Real effective battle tactics.

Frost, to his credit, had managed to pull on a pair of pants and a ripped t-shirt before going for his weapons. I hadn’t been so smart and now, the cold night air was washing over my hard nipples rather distractingly, while my welted butt was even more distractingly rubbing against Frost’s muscular ass.

This would be kind of sexy, I found myself thinking, all too inappropriately, if only I weren’t fearing for my life…

“You can’t run anymore, Frost!” a voice came out from the darkness. “The Pack will have its revenge! Justice must be done…”

“Vicious was rogue, you bastards! I did you all a favor…” Frost roared back in response. “He would have destroyed us all but you were too afraid to take him on. I was the only one who would challenge him!”

“We have ways of adjudicating disagreements…”

What the hell was going on?

“Frost,” I whispered. “What’s going on?”

“You remember the guy I killed…” he whispered back to me, fast and hurried.

“Yeah…”

“Well, these assholes think I shouldn’t have done that. But they’re all glad he’s dead. Aren’t you?”

There was no answer from the darkness.

“You cowards won’t even face me in the open! You hide in the shadows like rats! You’re not wolves—you’re vermin. You attack me with my woman, at night, surround me… You disgust me. I’m not going to pull any punches…”

Even as I heard guns cock and the rev of motorcycles, Frost didn’t back down.

“I’m gonna’ watch you sons of bitches bleed!”

And with that, all hell broke loose. I glanced back behind me to see Frost changing, his body growing and becoming all the more bestial: his chest broadening and growing hairy, tearing his shirt before completely shredding it, his ears growing and becoming long and pointed, almost like knives—his nose, long even for a human, grew into a long wolf’s snout, and his legs seemed to raise his body a foot or even two higher.

He let out a howl as a shadowy figure, with blazing red coals for eyes, burst out of the darkness and collided with Frost.

I couldn’t see what happened but Frost tossed away the enemy wolf’s corpse moments later, a sickening squelch resounding as he withdrew his blades from the beast’s gut.

I heard something in front of me and I gasped to see what looked like a large dog charging me on all fours, its mouth hanging open and its impossibly long tong slobbering viciously, teeth bared.

Its fangs seemed easily six inches long and in a brief moment, I imagined what they would feel like when they closed around my throat, tearing into me, air gushing into my larynx as I choked on my own pulsing blood…

“Don’t just stand there!” Frost roared, his voice changed now: no long was it the gruffly melodious tone of a young man. Now, it was bestial. Now, it was the voice of a warrior. “Shoot, damn it!”

I leveled the gun directly pointed at the wolf’s face and squeezed the trigger, just as I squeezed my eyes shut.

The gun burst into life at point blank range and jerked up in my hand, almost flying out of my grasp. I gave a yelp in surprise, feeling Frost stagger behind me as he hurled yet another wolf off of his body, blood splattering and bursting into the air like dust being flung up into the musty, stale light of a long since locked room that is only just now being cleaned and rejuvenated…

I opened my eyes to see the body of a naked young man lying before me, a gaping hole in his chest. He stared at me, baring his fangs—he had not yet completely transformed back—and I couldn’t help but let loose a sob as I watched him expire, his eyes growing dull.

In his eyes, I saw the anger and rage give way to fear, to terror of the unknown, and then finally to resignation, only to be clouded over and to grow still as he breathed his last.

But there was no time to reflect on his death.

Another wolf. Another shot from my silver revolver. Another young man, dead in the dust, his chest shattered.

I spread my legs slightly, taking up a strong stance, bracing myself against Frost’s broad shoulders, and fired once more, and then again, and then again, the gun cracking like a wild beast in my hand, screaming in time with the dying wolves around us.

Suddenly, I felt the reassuring presence of Frost behind me disappear. I turned in amazement, crying out, when I saw him on the ground, covered in wolves—two, three, no, four of them!

“Leave him alone!” I screamed, leveling my pistol at the nearest one. My shot smashed his shoulders and knocked him off Frost, which gave my werewolf an opening to drive his knife into the one poised with its claws over his throat.

Heaving the dying beast off of him, Frost’s blades lanced out, striking the remaining two wolves simultaneously.

He staggered to his feet and to my surprise, I realized we were in the midst of a momentary calm.

“Nice shootin’, Tex…” he grunted. I scowled, throwing down my revolver and running to him.

“You’re hurt,” I whispered, my fingers reaching for the deep gashes in his chest but then pausing—I was no doctor; I had no idea what to do here!

“I’ll be fine,” he growled. “I’ll heal before you know it…”

I could tell that he was in pain, however—I tenderly and gently laid my arms around his shoulders.

“Well, I’ll take good care of you while you do,” I whispered, leaning up to kiss him.

“Tia, damn it, watch out!” Frost cried out just as my lips were about to touch his. I turned just in time to see a motorcycle flying at me.