It was Halloween night. I know it’s a cliche, but it really was dark and stormy with not a trick-or- treater was to be seen. My husband was away on business and I was completely alone in the house. I’d shut the drapes to block out the storm but there was no escape from the thunder that rattled the windows and the rain that pelted the roof. I like rainy nights by the fire with a good book, but not stormy ones like the one that Halloween.
The power went out. Typical. I decided to go to bed and hopefully sleep through the worst of the storm. It took me forever to get to sleep. The bed seemed huge and the sheets glacial as I huddled underneath them and tried to ignore the storm right on the other side of the window pane.
I fell asleep only to wake suddenly at the sound of glass breaking. We live out in the middle of nowhere so I wasn’t especially alarmed. It was more likely to be a tree branch than an intruder. Besides, what kind of brazen thief invades in such a noisy fashion?
Figuring I’d better go see the damage, I got out of my nice warm bed and padded barefoot down the hall. I saw almost immediately what had broken, evidenced by the drapes of one of the windows blowing inward with the storm as rain pooled on the floor. I could see whatever it was that had broken the glass, standing in the middle of the hall. It was large and dark, about waist height. I felt an odd sensation of recognition mixed with fear that confused me and sent tingles up my spine.
Lightning flared at just that moment, illuminating the hall for a few seconds. It was long enough for me to get a look at the thing that had come through the window. It was a wolf — no, that was impossible, I told myself. It was a stray husky looking for shelter from the storm. A huge husky that had broken through my window without getting so much as a scratch that was looking at me with near human intelligence.
It was a stupid thing to do, but I turned and ran back up the hall. If the dog pursued, I didn’t know it. I made it to my room and firmly slammed the door shut behind me. Cursing my old insistence that phones do not belong in bedrooms, I wondered what on earth I was going to do. What were the odds of the dog leaving again once the storm passed?
While I was wondering this, the door knob turned and the door opened. In walked a man, completely nude. There was something wolfish about him, in the wide set of his gray eyes and the silver that streaked his long brown hair despite his seeming youth. Besides my natural distress over the fact that he was naked, I felt the same tingle of fear mixed with recognition that I’d felt earlier in the presence of the wolf…dog. Even then I couldn’t stop thinking of the animal as a wolf, despite how irrational it was.
Did the dog belong to the man then? If so, where was it? I kept expecting it to round the corner but it never came.
“Get out of here!” I shrieked at the man, searching around for a weapon of some sort but finding none close to hand.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.” he said in a husky voice.
“Look — whatever you want, money…car keys…”
“I want you. I came here to claim my mate. You.”
This sounded extremely ominous. Great. A lunatic. “Please don’t.” I begged, guessing what he had in mind.
“I would never dream of hurting you. Wolves mate for life, you know.” came the cryptic reply. “You may as well reconcile yourself early to the fact that you are mine.”
“I — I’m married.” I stammered. As though that would stop a sex crazed maniac.
“Marriage is a legal institution that has nothing to do with us. There are some bonds that go deeper than the law.”
“Get out of here.” I said, trying to put more confidence into my voice than I felt.
“I won’t hurt you.” he said, raising his arms wide in what was probably a gesture intended to show me that he wasn’t armed. Well of course he wasn’t armed — he was naked. But the movement made me more aware of how lean and muscular he was. He wasn’t large, but he was well toned. He was perfect except for a livid white scar that ran down his chest like claw marks.
“Just get out of my house.” I told him.
“I can’t do that.” he repeated. His hand brushed the scar on his chest. “I’ve come to make you mine. I know this may be difficult to accept right now, but you’ll soon understand.”
He took a step toward me.
“Get back!”
He didn’t stop his approach. With incredible speed and agility he leapt at me, pinning me firmly to the bed. I struggled to free myself but it was impossible. His physical strength was incredible, even — supernatural?
His hard, lean body pressed down on me so I could scarcely breathe. With contradictory gentleness, he brushed my hair from my face, his eyes taking in my features in a hungry sort of way.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been watching you. And the thought of that man touching you—”
“My husband!” I gasped in anger.
“By law.” he agreed in a slightly amused tone. “Which means nothing to me. You are mine by a far greater authority — that of nature. You are mine.” he repeated slowly and with emphasis.
Almost as though he couldn’t control it, his hips rubbed against mine. Even through my gown and panties I could feel that he was rock hard. I thought he was going to kiss me but he nuzzled his face against my neck, inhaling deeply. “You’re in heat.” he observed.
Judging by the way my body was reacting to the evidence of his arousal which was jutting into my thigh, I privately agreed. Either that or I was going out of my mind. Knowingly, his hand slid between my legs. “You’re soaking the crotch of your panties.” he needlessly informed me.
“Please leave me alone.”
“You don’t mean that. If I thought you really mean that, I’d leave right now. We both know it isn’t true. The time is right and I’ve waited too long already.”
Abruptly he rolled off me and I jumped to my feet. I was free to run, but somehow I was rooted to the spot, torn between fear and lust. My pulse was throbbing and so was my pussy. What was wrong with me?
“Take off your gown.” he suggested.
On one hand, I wanted him like hell on fire, despite the illogic of it. On the other hand, I was terrified, both of him and of the feelings he was inspiring in me. He was sexy…he was dangerous. Did I really have a choice anyway? I could say later that he raped me. I didn’t really want this, did I?
Shaking with fear and lust, I let my gown pool around my feet. His eyes roved over me avidly. “Now your panties before you get them any wetter than they already are.” he mildly suggested.
Tears of humiliation came to my eyes as I complied. What kind of person was I that I couldn’t tell if I wanted this or not? How horrible was I that there was a possibility that I did? What was wrong with me? I had never once thought of being unfaithful to my husband before.
I buried my face in my hands in confusion. He walked over to me and carefully pried them apart, raising my face so that I was looking at him. With surprising tenderness he kissed me, his tongue sliding between my lips to swirl around mine, begging for a response. I’d never kissed anyone before but my husband, and I stood still for him, in complete shock at what I was doing.
His kiss became more demanding, his lips crushed mine. I was horrified to find myself touching him, my hands wrapping around his erection.
He broke the kiss, his eyes full of approval and lust. “You see there? I knew you’d come around.” he said huskily. “Get on your knees and show me that you want me — show yourself how much you want me. I don’t want you to think that any of this has been forced.”
“I can’t.” I whispered.
“With a mouth that pretty, I’m sure you can.”
I tried not to think about what I was doing as I went to my knees. No matter what he said, this was not my choice. Or was it? I wasn’t some kind of slut and yet there I was on my knees before a complete stranger, staring at his hardened cock. A glance up at his face showed it tense with passion and I knew that he wanted me to pleasure him more than anything else in the world.
Timidly, I gave it a small lick.
“Yes.” he breathed.
His musky scent and taste were going to my head faster than any wine. More boldly, I took his erection into my mouth and sucked. It was like a part of me was watching from the sideline as I acted like a whore in an alley. I was absorbed in the task of getting him off, becoming more and more aroused at the prospect. My mouth slid willingly up and down his length until I began to taste precum.
“You have to stop.” he groaned. “I don’t want to cum in your mouth.”
” I want to taste you.” I gasped in protest, any remaining morals I had completely stripped away by lust.
“Not tonight. Tonight I make you mine, body and soul. I intend to mark you and breed you tonight. You’re in heat — I want to make you pregnant.”
This should have alarmed me, but it didn’t. Maybe it was lust. Maybe it was the sudden realization that I already belonged to him and always had. “Do it then. Now.”
“Of course. Whatever you want.” he answered.
He guided me onto my hands and knees right there on the floor. I arched my hips up and spread my legs in wanton invitation. He took me without preamble, plunging inside me as deep as he could go. Never in my life had anything felt so good. It was as though he was fulfilling a need in my life that had gone unnamed for years. It wasn’t just sex—it was him. He was my mate.
I threw back my head and groaned in pleasure. A few steady strokes and he had me clawing at the carpet in a state of ecstasy. My pussy burned pleasantly from the rhythmic thrusts. The pace he set was hard and fast, both wild and animalistic. It had been good with my husband, but never like this. My breasts jutted out proudly as I arched my back in a wordless plea for more. I could only moan in delight when he reached around to grasp one breast and give it a gentle squeeze. My nipples were so hard that they hurt.
Once again I climaxed, throwing my head back in ecstasy. My pussy pulsed around his throbbing cock, hugging him like a glove. This time I brought him with me. His thrusts came harder, as he pressed into me again and again, finally driving in all the way as he emptied himself into me.
I collapsed on the floor in exhaustion, momentarily satiated. He laid down beside me, his hands sleeking over my smooth skin. “Mine.” he breathed into my ear. This time I agreed.
I felt very content and at peace. When he wanted to mate again, I not only allowed it, but welcomed it. Somewhere, in some rational corner of my mind, I knew it was horrible to be doing this here in the room that I shared with my husband. But he was only my husband after all, a legal term. The taking of a mate has little to do with the law.
The storm had rained itself out and golden moonlight pooled around us and over us. Over and over we coupled and I gasped with pleasure every time I felt his seed planted in my womb. I fell asleep in the curve of his body with his cock still buried inside me.
I wasn’t especially surprised to find him gone in the morning, but I wasn’t concerned. I wasn’t concerned either by the claw marks on my shoulder. I knew they would scar, but they were his mark and I was proud to wear them. Somehow I sensed that he had succeeded in his objective to impregnate me, and I was proud of that too. I knew my mate would return for me soon, certainly before the next full moon. He had bred me and marked me as his.