< Round Two In Fur
Round Two In Fur
~Lyra~
I moaned.
Loud. Filthy. Like I didn’t care if the entire forest heard me.
Because it felt that good.
My back arched off the tree. My thighs squeezed around his waist. And my cunt clenched again–hard–like my body was trying to take matters into its own hands and pull the orgasm out of me whether he allowed it
or not.
“You’re shaking,” he whispered, watching me like I was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. “You’re going to come from this, aren’t you? Just from my hands on your tits.”
I nodded frantically.
I couldn’t speak.
I was grinding against him now. Openly. Desperately. The friction from my ruined panties and the thick bulge
in his pants was everything. I was right there. My whole body was begging. Screaming.
And he leaned in.
And whispered-
“Beg.”
I sobbed.
Actually sobbed.
“Please, Daddy,” I cried, rocking harder, more frantic now. “Please touch me. Please make me come. I need it. I need your fingers. I need your c**k. I’ll be good. I’ll be so good, I swear.”
He growled.
Like, full chest rumble. Like his wolf heard me and approved.
And then–finally–he slid his hand into me.
Straight down. No teasing this time. No detours.
And he touched me–really touched me–for the first time since I ran.
And he swore.
“f**k, kitten,” he growled, pressing his fingers right into my soaked folds, “you’re drenched.”
“I told you,” I gasped, eyes rolling back. “I’ve been dripping since you counted to five. I think I ruined the
kitchen floor.”
He chuckled.
“You ruined more than that.”
And then–he slid a finger inside me.
< Round Two In Fur
Slow. Deep. Perfect.
And I saw stars.
His fingers slid into my shorts like he owned them. Like my panties were just an annoying piece of fabric standing in the way of what he already considered his.
Which, okay, fair.
Because the second his fingertips brushed over my soaked folds, I completely fell apart. Like all my bones vanished and my body melted into the tree behind me, gasping, whimpering, grabbing onto his shoulders like he was the only thing keeping me from sinking into the forest floor.
And maybe he was.
Because Damon wasn’t just touching me. He was claiming me.
One finger. Two.
Slipping deep inside me, curling up like he knew exactly where my soul was hiding. His thumb stayed outside, circling that swollen, throbbing spot like he was playing with a trigger. And I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even think. I was just moaning.
Loud. Shameless. Full–body moaning like I was possessed.
“Oh my God,” I gasped, hips grinding into his hand. “Damon. Oh my God. You can’t do that. You can’t just say ten seconds and then chase me and then f**k me with your fingers against a tree like I’m a–f**k–like I’m a feral little slut who’s just waiting to be ruined.”
“You are,” he murmured darkly, his voice right at my ear, thick with heat and pride and so much f*****g ownership it made my spine bow. “You’re my little Omega slut. You were soaking before you even made it to
the trees.”
“I hate you,” I cried, but I was rutting into his hand like a b***h in heat. “You’re so mean. You’re ruining my underwear. I think my clit is broken. You’re making me shake, Damon. I think I’m gonna die.”
“You’re going to come,” he corrected, dragging his mouth across my jaw. “And then I’m going to f**k you until you can’t feel your legs.”
I moaned again.
So loud it echoed. So loud it probably scared off a few birds. So loud I could feel my orgasm curling behind my ribs like a goddamn monster waiting to break loose.
But then he slowed down.
His fingers stopped. Just like that.
They stayed inside, deep and still, like a punishment.
And I almost screamed.
“No,” I gasped, squirming, chasing the friction. “Don’t you dare, Don’t you f*****g dare stop now. You can’t do
that. You can’t tease me like that, Damon, I’m literally throbbing, I’m going to cry, I swear-”
“Shh,” he whispered, lips brushing my ear. “Breathe, kitten. I want to ask you something.”
I blinked up at him, still panting, still trembling.
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< Round Two In Fur
“What?” I whimpered. “What could you possibly need to ask me right now? You have fingers in me. My brain is soup. My v****a is crying. Just f**k me already.”
He smirked. Of course he did. That cruel, sexy Alpha smirk that always meant danger was coming.
And then he said it.
Slow. Dark. Filthy.
“Should we do it in wolf form?”
I stopped breathing.
Like literally just forgot how to exist.
“What,” I croaked, and it wasn’t even a question. It was just air leaving my lungs in shock. “What the f**k did
you just say?”
His nose brushed mine. His hand moved again–just barely–just enough to make my cunt clench around his fingers like it wanted to keep them.
“You heard me,” he said softly, like he was asking what I wanted for breakfast instead of offering to wreck me on four legs. “Do you want that, kitten? Do you want me to shift? Do you want me to f**k you in our true forms? No more clothes. No more words. Just raw instinct. Teeth. Fur. Knot.”
My thighs clenched. Again.
Hard.
Painful.
Because holy f*****g hell, why did that sound hot? Why was I suddenly imagining myself on all fours, whining, begging, presenting for him like my wolf wanted to be filled so deep I couldn’t shift back?
“That’s not fair,” I whispered, grinding into his palm like I’d lost my mind. “You can’t say that s**t while you’ve got your fingers in me. That’s cheating. That’s evil. That’s illegal. I’m 18. I don’t have the emotional maturity
for that kind of fantasy.”
He chuckled.
Chuckled.
Like he knew he’d already won.
“You’re thinking about it,” he murmured, kissing my cheekbone. “You’re picturing it. Your little tail lifted. My teeth at your neck. My knot stretching you so wide you forget you were ever human.”
I came.
Right then.
I swear to the Moon, my whole body snapped. My back arched. My legs shook. My vision blurred. And my cunt clenched so hard around his fingers I swear I heard him growl.
It hit me like a lightning strike. One second I was grinding. The next I was screaming. Not words. Not even sounds. Just noise. Pure, unfiltered, Omega pleasure that burst out of me like a firestorm and burned everything else down with it.
And he didn’t stop.
Round Two In Fur
3 Porte
He kept f*****g me through it. Slow and deep. Letting me ride his fingers like a b***h in heat who couldn’t
stop moaning.
I slumped against the tree.
Sweaty.
Shaking.
Utterly f*****g ruined.
And he leaned in again.
Licked my cheek.
Bit my earlobe.
And whispered-
“Round two’s in fur, kitten.”
I didn’t even have time to respond.
Didn’t have time to think.
Or speak.
Or beg for a second round.
Because the second Damon whispered, “Round two’s in fur,” the forest shifted.
I could barely stand.
My legs were shaking.
My brain was fried.
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