3: Fera - Pack City Read online

  I pushed him away. He was making it hard to think. Hard to stay mad. “Don’t tell me that you fucked me with an audience, and it didn’t turn you on more.”

  He chuckled. “I never would say something like that.”

  “So, what did they do?”

  “Hm?” He frowned, drew back, then shrugged, “Beat their own sticks while they watched, I think. But that’s just a guess. I really wasn’t watching them.”

  “Why can’t I remember?”

  “Too heavenly,” he suggested with a smirk. “Or too...insanely phenomenal that your brain has relegated the memory to another realm?”

  That made me laugh. “You’re full of yourself.”

  “My new position at Lobos has me a little self-impressed.”

  “What is it?”

  “Top breeder.”

  The oafish grin on his face should have tipped me off that he was teasing me. But, honestly, I pretty much felt my heart stop. Break, actually. Visions of him doing the gigolo act all across the world, flying in, fucking the world, traveling on--rushed my brain.

  How many times can a heart shatter and be put together?

  It was a cruel joke. It scared me. Instead of laughing, like I think he wanted me to do, I choked out, “So, who’s next on your list. Do I know the lucky girl?”

  That made him blink. Putting his nose right up to mine, he said, “Fera, you and I are the top choice for an offspring. Lobos is counting on us to prove their point, to strengthen the lines.”

  “So, all my worries about Hood slitting me open...”

  “Made it easier for me to extricate you, for him to put on the hunt without loss of pride. Kept other mutts off of you until I was able to come for you.”

  “How long will it go on, this hunt?”

  “How long will it take for you to give me children?”

  “What if I don’t want to have babies? Or if I can’t?”

  At that moment, I had a desperate need to confide in a female. To word my fears to Kayty. To get some direction, hear some motherly advice. I knew she wouldn’t judge me.

  And she was pregnant. She could help me through the ordeal ahead of me.

  Frankly, I hated the focus our kind had on procreation, and purification. I hated the idea of being a laboratory rat. I asked Jack, “How do you feel, to be pulled into this whole thing?”

  “I should lie. I should say that I’m thrilled to fuck a princess, to father her children, but honestly, it’s been hard to work through.”

  I didn’t expect that kind of straight up truth.

  “But?”

  “But I’m an Olympian, Fera. I’d rather stand on the top block than not stand at all.”

  Okay. I readjusted on the sofa, so I could face him. “So, when the losers caught you, you were totally not expecting that. It wasn’t part of the plan.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “But you used them.” I put a hand to Jack’s cheek, “What block are you aiming for now?”

  Jack kissed me. “Sweetheart, they picked us for prom king and queen. The least we can do is oblige them by stepping up to rule the kingdom. What do you say?”

  “You don’t mean...Pack City.”

  “No.”

  “The world?”

  “One rung at a time.” He kissed me. “One rung at a time, sweetheart.” He kissed me again.

  Call me crazy, but the thrill of his sureness that we could do it had me going for it. Going for him. Diving onto his body, pressing him back with the fervor of my acceptance.

  It took him all of about two seconds to grab a hold of my breasts and squeeze. To free his lips and ask, “Then, you’re with me?”

  I tried my hand at teasing. “You sure you want me as your queen?”

  He rolled me off onto the floor, freed himself from the pants he had on, just undid the closure, slid his cock inside me and asked, “Is there any doubt?”

  Closing my eyes, I murmured with pleasure, “Mm. You may have to convince me.” But then, I had to bite my bottom lip, because he was very thorough, and very serious in his convincing. All I could do is hang on, wait for our explosions. Or implosions. Furious proving. Definitive depth plummeting. Satiating end all.

  A thought struck me, as I curled up against his chest later. “Alpha female, Jack. Not queen.”

  I felt his chest rumble. I knew he was amused. I propped myself up, looked down at him, “And I need some clothes if I’m going to live in this city.”

  “We’re going to have to move around a lot, I think. Hood’s obligated to put up a good effort at hunting us down.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “In fact, we have a plane to catch pretty soon.” Getting up, he led me to the shower. That was an experience...in Olympian stamina.

  I rubbed soap all over him a few times. All under. In every crack. Around every...thing. And then he did it to me. Talk about your sensual experience. I loved it when he ran the soap over my midriff while he rubbed against my back with his body.

  But this is funny...I dropped the soap on purpose, got down on my hands and knees to find it. We had a lot of suds. And, for the first time ever, he said, “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  Too big for the tub, and that position at the same time. Ever do it on the bathroom floor, all sudsed up?

  Doggy style like that is a bitch. Your knees slip. You slide. You get giggling.

  He gets laughing, trying to smooth the bubbles off of you, trying to hold you in place. That’s the great thing about Jack; he laughs a lot and he gets a grip when he needs to.

  Never say die.

  Thank Gaia, Jack’s in the pack.

  The End

  Carys Weldon

  Carys Weldon is a great fan of the White Wolf Gaming system, especially shape-shifters. She writes her horrific romance from a haunted hollow in the Missouri Ozarks, not far from Branson.

  Carys has won over one hundred awards in the last three to four years. Of most recent note in Romance and Erotica: Third place in the RWA Inner Vixen contest with Confessions of a BBW Cover Model, Mays Reviews Over the Moon Award of Excellence for Chaos, and a second place recently in the Writer’s Zone Erotica competition at OCW for The Wet Spot.