Bitten (Working title ONLY)

He had me pinned. It wasn't the first time, but there was always the struggle. I couldn't just... give in. It wasn't in my character. So we battled. And sometimes I thought he allowed me to take that top position, even if it was only brief. In the end, he was always on top because it was just his nature.

Opposites attract. We balanced each other. I kept him calm and he kept me from getting too stubborn, or losing my temper.

Putting my heels onto the floor, I attempted to gain leverage. It was a genuine attempt. That's another thing I adored about being the mate of a werewolf. I didn't have to hold back. It was orgasmic, it was blissful in a way I hadn't experienced. It also meant he could wear me out and have the energy to get up and make me a sandwich afterwards.

He was also a damned good cook.

Clad in his boxers, I could feel the outline of his cock against me and it made me press harder. I needed to get out from under him, or this would no longer be a fight. I hadn't even broken a sweat, I wanted to delay it, to make him and myself want it more.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, finding the backs of his shoulders with my nails. Using quite a bit of pressure, I pulled my nails upwards towards his shoulders. At first, he ignored it, then he got stiff, as if trying to harden himself against it. Then he would attempt to embrace it.

He would succeed for a few moments, in the heat of this tussle it seemed like seconds. As if he became filled up in those brief moments, he would boil over. He would snarl, and I would watch him gnash his teeth until he jerked from my grip.

Grabbing my hips, he pulled himself up onto his knees and pulled me against him in a movement that was smooth muscle and strength. I was no petite flower after all, I had muscle and curve. Maybe a little more curve than the former.

Pressed up against him, I watched with an intense gaze and an open, panting mouth as he lowered his hand. His knuckles brushed against my panties and his movements were so slow there is no way he did not feel that my panties were wet. My sex parted and as his hand began to move past my cunt, to grasp his cock and pull it out, he brushed my clit with his knuckles.

He knew that would be my undoing. The hard grip I had on his waist with my legs slacked and I loosened my thighs and pushed up with my hips in an obscenely hungry movement. There was no guessing in this display. Trembling, I was full of adrenaline unspent but my heart was pumping with a lust that converged on the edge of making me high. If he didn't touch me, I would go mad.

His hard length rubbed against my panties, slow, careful movements. His hand slid to thigh, keeping me in position with ease now that my struggles had turned to trembles. Pushing up on my elbows, I watched him and we locked eyes.

That was our undoing. He pushed aside the material of my panties and without a glance cast downward, he found me. Watching my face, I saw him grin as I experienced both pleasure and pain.

I dug in. I curled my fingers into fists and knew that it was possible I would end up with rug rash on my elbows. He slammed into me hard, purposeful and without ever looking away. I think he enjoyed watching my face, that wincing pleasure, that gasping pain, as much as he enjoyed burying his cock in me.

He slid his fingers down my thigh, buried himself and held me there. The smile was cruel as he slid that holding hand down and around to pull aside my pussy lips with his fingertips. His thumb pressed lightly against my clit, making lazy circles.

I quit digging in. I slid back onto the floor, except for where he parted me, still buried as he toyed with my clit. It was a little button he knew so well. He had unlocked my code, my left-right-Press A-Press B security code that never failed to make me cum. No matter how much I tried to not cum, I would cum. For his own masochistic pleasure, he had told me that if I came, there would be punishment. No matter what the punishment I came, and I came hard.

"Please." I moaned, covering my face, hands, growing mad with that coiling sensation that was tightening in the lowest point of my belly. My hips bucked, not that kind of erratic thrashing that might come later, but a steady motion that I knew was the fastest route to cuming.

No sooner did the word escape my mouth, than he reached down, encircled me and pulled me up. His mouth met mine hard and he pushed his hips up. His cock had never left my tight clenching muscles and he sought to sink deeper, to make sure he reached the absolute limit. Face to face, he kissed my lips with a fevered rush of mouth and tongue. He nipped at my throat, he bit at that curve between neck and shoulder.

I had neither the mind, nor the bother to tell him not to bite me. When he did, I knew two things immediately. One, that he had made me cum harder than I ever had before and two... that he might have just made me a werewolf.