Page 27 of Folds
“Yes,” I breathe. “Bring it to me.”
My skin ripples with shifting muscles and bones beneath my clothes. The pain feels so good and necessary—a reminder of what a bad idea this is, how this has ended in failure before.
Lucy begins to stand.
“No,” I say.
She stops moving immediately.
Perfect teacher’s pet.
“Crawl.” The wolf once again forces out my desires.
Her smirk spreads into a smile as she sets the pointer gently back on the wood floor and drops to her hands and knees. My skin aches, stretching tightly over my swelling muscles. My breath quickens, and my fangs, longer now, rub against the sensitive, wet flesh of my lip.
Lucy leans downward, arms bent, framing the deep valley of her cleavage as her shiny glossy lips part. I restrain a howl as she takes the pointer between her teeth, her wet, pink tongue curling over the lacquered wood as she adjusts its position in her mouth.
Chains? I should get the chains.
“You are so good at following my directions, Lucy. I would’ve never guessed from how often you were late to class.”
She stiffens and blushes harder as she looks up at me.
“You like following my orders, Lucy?” I ask, keeping my voice neutral as my blood hums through my body, desperate for ‘yes’.
She nods more frantically, her cheeks growing redder, her blue eyes lighting up as her muffled words of excitement are lost to the pointer stick in her mouth.
“Good girl,” I whisper.
My body is changing in ways hidden beneath my clothing and in the shadows, but the mystery of what I am won’t last much longer. I will stop this before it goes too far. It’s enough to know someone desires me how I want to be desired—that it’s possible. It’s not fair to Lucy; she doesn’t know what I am or what she’s doing to me. But then she crawls to me, and my wolf’s desire takes over.
Holding the broken stick in her mouth like a puppy, she crawls towards me over the hardwood floor. Her breathing is partially hindered by the bit-like stick, and saliva glistens on the corners of her full lips. She’s eager, so eager; she speeds up, and the sudden urge to chase grips my chest.
We shouldn’t be doing this. Yes, we are both adults, and she graduated, didn’t even go to my university, but we are still on campus. Someone could walk through any moment. She doesn’t know what she’s getting into. I can’t let this go too far.
Then, Lucy is at my feet, kneeling, her knees spread wide so they straddle my shoes. Her scent is so strong and intoxicating, I feel my ears stretch from a soft, rounded shell to long and pointed. I pray I’m hidden in the shadows enough that she doesn’t notice.
“Open,” I tell her, and she releases the pointer into my outstretched hand. “Gods, you are good at this, Lucy.”
She smiles up at me, her chin inches from my thighs. “I’m not usually good at following directions, but I want to be, for you,” she murmurs and sets her chin on my knee like an eager little pet, my perfect fantasy come to life. I don’t trust it.
Her full breasts press into my shin, and her hot breath warms me from thigh to cunt. I want to shove her mouth into my lap, but I limit myself to reaching out for her.
My claws dig into her wild hair. I can feel her against my slowly shifting hand, feel her heat and softness, but I hold her at a distance.
Lucy moans and presses her face into my thigh. I stroke her hair, claws tightening on her red locks, keeping her in place, butthen she rubs a rounded cheek against my knee, and I want to feel her skin. I release her, running my claws over her face as she moves higher up my leg. She inches her way towards the apex of my thighs. I could stop her—I’m strong enough as a human and infinitely stronger so close to the full moon. But then she pushes her way between my thighs and rubs her nose against the seam of my pants, pressing upwards into my cunt. My hand is back in her hair, but now, I dig my claws into her curls to get a better grip and pull her closer..
“Lucy, what are you doing?” I exhale.
“Whatever pleases you,” she whimpers, her hands clasped behind her back, as if she has taken my command to not to use her hands to heart.
Lucy nuzzles my crotch with her nose and chin before she licks and presses forward.
The chains. I should get the chains…
I hold her firmly between my legs, gripping her hair at the root as I rock myself against her, guiding her soft lips and nose against the hard line of the zipper. I press all that stiffness between my folds and against my clit, holding her still as I work my hips over her. The pressure of her mouth and face against me, even through the fabric of my pants and underwear, is enough to make me want to howl.
“Fuck,” I growl. “Fuck, Lucy.”
