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Riding the Wolf

By: LaSalia



WARNING: This story contains graphic scenes of non consent and bestiality by a werewolf which may be disturbing to some readers. Reader discretion is advised. 

Rosita Hood stood staring at her reflection in the mirror. She had rushed through her morning routine, cleaning up her mother's, and guest's, mess from the night before, as well as putting the oven on warm to heat the muffins she would be bringing to her grandmother. She remembered the sight of her mother, sprawled on the thick rug in front of the television, while a man in his twenties sat on the couch, rubbing his stubble of a beard. He leered at her when he saw her. The age difference between him and her mother was probably the same as between him and herself. 

Gina was a second generation single mother, knocked up at 16, making her look more like a sister to her offspring than a mother. When Rosita had passed her sweet 16 with her virginity intact, she had sent a prayer to St. Agnes in thanks. Like the Saint, Rosita was a beauty, and had been chased by boys and men alike since she began to grow breasts at the age of 12. Her long, midnight black hair fell in waves across her caramel colored skin, framing rich chocolate eyes and a pair of wide, rosy lips. High round breasts thrust against even baggy polo shirts, and her firm, heart shaped ass looked good in almost any pants. Unlike the martyr, Rosita didn't plan on remaining a virgin forever, but she at least wanted to finish high school, perhaps even college, before she risked everything for some man. So far, she had burned a candle to St. Agnes twice more since that first birthday landmark.

Her experiences with the eager boys in school were not so harsh, but the older men her mother brought home terrified her. She had installed a chain lock on her own door when she was only 14 after one drunk lover had tried to enter her room after Gina passed out from too much beer, leaving her "date" unsatisfied. Rosita had barely slipped through her window, his fingers wrapping around her ankles as she dove, but all he got for his trouble was her booted slippers.

Rosita never knew her father. He was supposedly some football champion from high school, but Rosita's grandmother scoffed at that description. Although Gina had always been a beauty, her low self esteem drew her to losers, misfits, and brutal men. Although she had also become pregnant 16, Rosita's abuela had been deeply in love with Rosita's grandfather, Daniel Hood, and they had married. Wanting a better life for his teenage wife and new daughter, Daniel had enlisted in the army. While training, he excelled, and his skills were deemed good enough to earn him a trip to Egypt for Operation Bright Star, following the Camp David Accords. However, he never made it. During a training exercise while en route to Cairo he suffered an unexpected and fatal heart attack. It was so strange for someone so young, and no one had ever been able to give Abuela a good answer as to why she was left widowed at the tender age of 19. 

Rosita's grandmother never re-married, her grief was too great. Thanks to the survivors benefits paid out by the US military and a meager life insurance policy, she was able to purchase a small bungalow in a rural neighborhood, backing up to a beautiful wood, with mountain tops peaking in the horizon. The dirt road had many such houses on it, and led to a small town with a school, restaurants and shopping mall. She never even learned to drive, taking a motorized trike with a cart attached behind to do her grocery shopping, and was able to live frugally on their monthly stipend. Gina had hated the place. She was desperate for the big city. The closest had been Stroudsburg, PA, where she was bussed to school. She'd had big dreams of escaping to NY, or maybe just Pittsburgh, but when she got knocked up at 16 by her first high school boyfriend, there was little chance. Abuela had raised her until she was old enough to go to school, and then Gina had suddenly packed all their things and moved into an apartment in the heart of Stroudsburg. Rosita's mother rented the small two bedroom, one bath flat with her earnings as a barista at the mall where she spent most of her time. The bus rode right there, and it was a favorite hang out of the college kids who attended the branch of UPenn. 

Since she was old enough to ride a bicycle on her own, Rosita had been braving the 5 mile ride down the mountain road to her grandmother's bungalow. It was better than school, where kids often picked on her because of her slutty mother, or the mall where she might find said mother making out with a college boy in a corner. Eventually, she started staying the night on the weekends, and her mother barely noticed, except that it meant Gina could have overnight guests also, without any interruption. Only when she was at Abuela's house did Rosita feel safe. She would have moved back in with her grandmother, if her mother had allowed it, and Gina and Abuela had gotten into a few fights about how to raise Rosita. But Gina remained stubborn on this one aspect of her life in which she had control: Rosita. She liked having someone to boss around and do the chores she despised. Rosita had also learned early how to dial 911 for help when Gina's boyfriends became too violent. Eventually, Rosita came to feel that she was responsible for her mother, who obviously couldn't take care of herself. But that all changed when Abuela got sick.

In the beginning she kept it hidden, and Rosita might have never found out about her grandmother's illness if she hadn't adored her so much. It was little things at first. Abuela started to lose some of the roundness she had always had, her figure going from plump to merely curvy. Abuela had only just turned 50 and still maintained much of the beauty of her youth. A few of her midnight black hairs had gone gray, but not enough that she had felt the need to dye it. She had merely plucked the few errant strands. Now her hair was turning gray all over, and seemed much thinner than before. She was tired, and becoming forgetful. It scared Rosita, especially since her grandmother lived all alone. Eventually Rosita confronter her, and Abuela confided that she had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer. The symptoms Rosita had noticed were all from the chemotherapy treatments she took bi weekly. 

Now that Rosita had turned 18, even though she had not yet finished high school, she decided it was time to start spending more days with her grandmother. At first Gina had protested, but there wasn't much she could do about it, besides kick her daughter out of the house completely. Even the few days a week she was home was enough to keep the house from turning into a garbage heap, and whenever Gina was between boyfriends, she liked the company. So Rosita spent every other day and the whole of the weekend with her grandmother, making sure she was never alone for more than 24 hours. Like at home, she cooked and cleaned to take the pressure off of her weakened grandmother, until finally it seemed to be paying off. Abuela was getting stronger, and the doctor had changed her chemo schedule to once a month instead. The mass in her ovaries had shrunk significantly, and they scheduled her for surgery in December. Although that was still several months away, everyone was confident that she would pull through. 

Hearing the oven timer beep, Rosita took one last look at her reflection and pulled on her favorite accessory: a red, hand knitted poncho. Abuela had made it for her when Rosita turned 13 and began having problems with boys. The yarn was thick, but the weave was loose, letting in a nice breeze and allowing Rosita to wear it three out of four seasons. The bulky garment covered her luxurious hair, fine chiseled features, and was long enough to hide both her bosom and her shapely derrière. It gave her a sense of security and confidence, and as a result, she wore it nearly everywhere. Steeling herself for her escape, she went into the kitchen and dumped the pan of hot muffins into a basket and poured steaming chai tea into a silver thermos. From the corner of her eye, she could see the young man her mother had brought home approaching her, smiling suggestively as he leaned against the counter. She tried not to look at him, but when she went to leave the kitchen, he moved to block her path.

"And where are you off to, young lady?" 

He'd leaned into her, taking a deep breath as he spoke, inhaling her scent. His voice was low, as if he were trying to speak with fatherly concern. No way was he older than twenty five.

"I'm going to my abuela's house, not that it's any of your concern." 

Rosita kept her head down. She didn't want to look at him, this man who'd fucked her mother and was now patronizing her, as if it gave him rights to her. He didn't give her much choice, however, placing a finger under her chin and raising her wary gaze to meet his own.

She'd never seen eyes quite like his before. They were so light a brown as to look golden, with a dark brown ring on the outside of the iris. She saw his pupils dilate and his nostrils flare as he brought his face close enough that their breath mingled. She expected to smell beer and cigarettes. He smelled of rum, instead, sweet and tangy. Apparently Gina had broken out the good stuff for this one.

Trying to dart around him, Rosita was again blocked as the man moved to fill the entire doorway. She stood there, clutching her basket and thermos, her anxiety growing. This was no fresh drunk she could out run or outsmart. This man was fresh and rested, and his interest was becoming more and more dangerous by the minute.

"Easy there, chica, I just wanted to be able to tell your mother when she wakes up. We don't need her worried about her little girl, do we?"

Rosita took a step backwards, hoping her small retreat would encourage him to move out of her way. He didn't.

"Can I offer you a ride?"

Rosita shook her head, rambling off excuses and eager to be rid of him.

"No, it's just off of Mountain Road, about five miles. I can be there on my bike in no time." The man put a hand on Rosita's shoulder, squeezing it a little harder than was comfortable, his hand running down the length of her arm before he finally stepped aside to let her pass. He only moved a little bit, forcing her to brush her body against his as she went through the doorway. As she did, he leaned down and whispered.

"Don't forget the flowers."

Rosita thought that was an odd thing to say, but she didn't respond, rushing out of the house and onto her bike. She'd spared her mother a passing glance and saw that Gina was beginning to rouse. As she pedaled down the road, her heart rate slowly began to come down to normal. Cars passed her by, and she found her apprehension return when she thought she saw a familiar vehicle. The car parked nearest to their apartment had been a silver convertible she didn't recognize. Few people in the apartments could afford such a new model car. She figured it had to belong to the man on the couch. But the silver car passed her, and although it was a late model, it was a hardtop, and she sighed with relief.

A few miles down the road she passed an open area with a field of wildflowers. The white and yellow blooms were late, as they were coming into full fall. The young man's words came back to her, and although she didn't really like the idea of taking advice from a stranger, she shrugged and climbed off of her bicycle. It was a good idea. She only spent a few minutes picking the small bouquet of wildflowers, tying them together with a rubber band she kept in her purse. The whole while she pulled the blooms from the dewy grass she kept her eyes on the road, watching for the silver convertible to appear. She felt relieved when she climbed back on her bike and hadn't seen a single vehicle pass by. The rest of the trip she hummed Shinedown's Diamond Eyes and finally felt happy.

Raoul watched the scrumptious little morsel walking out the door. She probably thought that bulky poncho hid her from his gaze, but as she walked, her hips swayed, and he caught tantalizing glimpses of her round little ass. The way her chest strained against the knit fabric gave him a fair hint that her breasts were as well endowed as the mother's. He'd picked this one up trolling the mall, a sexy Latina MILF who was obviously desperate for attention. The woman dressed like a teenager, with tight skinny jeans and a low v-neck sweater that kept sliding up to show her midriff. Unlike a teenager she wore 6 inch stilettos to show off her long, firm legs. She would have been pretty if she didn't look like she had ten pound bags under her eyes, which she'd tried to conceal with too much make up. The cheap jewelry and long hairstyle told him as much as her hungry gaze that there was no one at home waiting for her. He was all too eager to agree to her proposition that she cook him some dinner, even though it was well after 9:00 when they met.

Dinner turned out to be cheese and crackers and a bottle of Captain Morgan's. Raoul didn't mind, since dessert consisted of Gina rubbing the liquid on his stiff cock. She'd licked and sucked him like a pro, swirling her tongue across his balls and shaft until he was ready to burst. Skipping the foreplay, she'd pushed him down on the couch and sunk her hot twat onto his raging boner. It wasn't as tight as he'd hoped, but that just allowed him to cool down enough to play with her mouthwatering tits. The lady had at least that much going for her, the large D cup mounds spilling out of her lacy bra and into his hands. The rich caramel color of her skin was broken by some skimpy tan lines that led to dark pink nipples. He let her ride him, fondling her bouncing breasts as she ground down on his cock, moaning and whispering dirty words like a cheap porno. After a few minutes she started to get a surprised look on her face as it became flushed and her breath came in rapid bursts. He grinned smugly as he realized that she probably didn't have many partners that lasted as long as he had, and she was beginning to actually get into it.

Raoul grabbed her hips and began thrusting up into her body, making her scream in surprise, then in pleasure as his cock rubbed against her slowly tightening cunt. Her tits bounced in rhythm with his pounding and just as she was about to reach her release he stopped moving and held her tightly to his hips. Gina moaned in frustration, but Raoul wouldn't let her move. He waited until she was panting, wiggling, begging him desperately as his cock grew harder and harder inside of her and her pussy walls gripped him tightly. Just as tears started forming in the corners of her eyes he relented, driving into her viciously. By then she was so horny it didn't matter that he was hurting her tender flesh, all she cared was that he kept thrusting his cock into her body. His head fell back and he let out an animal growl as she felt his cum squirt into her desperate pussy. She screamed as she came, but he pulled out swiftly, denying her the satisfaction of squeezing the hot, pulsing meat. 

Gina rolled off of him, crashing drunkenly on the floor. She didn't remember drinking quite that much, but the high of orgasm had added to her dizziness and exhaustion. She climbed over to a throw pillow that had been knocked off the couch in her eagerness to fuck the young college boy. Raoul was a god, come down from heaven. He wasn't Latino, but his hair was jet black, like hers, and his rich tan made him darker than most white guys. His eyes weren't brown, exactly, but a strange golden color. She hadn't expected such a warm color to look so cold. But the best thing about Raoul was his body. She could tell just from the way he walked that he was an athlete of some kind. Although she'd started out asking him all kinds of questions, he hadn't wanted to talk about himself. Amazingly, for the first time in her life, a man wanted to hear about her. It was intoxicating and she found herself pouring out her whole life to this sexy stranger, watching the line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, and his awesomely buff body as he listened with polite interest. He didn't even bat one of those long dark lashes when she told him about her bitch of a mother who had stolen her bitch of a daughter from her. She told him how her mother thought she was better than her because when she got knocked up, she was in love with a guy who stuck around. Luck. And Rosita thought she was better than Gina because she was still a virgin. But Gina knew better. She'd caught Rosita masturbating in the shower once, and knew her daughter was plagued by the same lusts as her mother. Rosita just couldn't interest a man, not a real man, she purred at him. Raoul knew the woman was obviously jealous of her daughter. He decided he needed to get a look at this girl the next morning. Raoul hadn't seen her when he arrived, but it was late when Gina finally invited him back to her place. Gina was a fairly attractive woman, her looks only marred by her heavy drinking and the obsessive amount of makeup she wore. Any daughter she was jealous of must be a real knock out. Also, he'd seen a picture of an older woman in a hand-made picture frame in the kitchen. Gina barely knew where the refrigerator was in the kitchen, so it must have been the girl. The older woman must have been the grandma, but she didn't look like one. She was a little plump, but had the same long dark hair and chocolate eyes as Gina, as well as high cheekbones and a small beauty mark on the left side of her jaw. Raoul had never been with a woman over 40, since that seemed to be the limit of when everything started to sag. But this woman didn't look like she would be saggy, and that's when inspiration struck him. He was going to fuck all three generations. Gina was easy, but the other two would take a little more work. Smiling to himself as he pulled an afghan over his shoulders, he fell asleep, dreaming of a sweet incestual foursome of which he was the master.

Raoul awoke to the sounds of someone bustling in the kitchen. He sat up just in time to leer at the most fuckable teenager he'd ever seen. How this chick had remained a virgin he'd never know. Thankfully, it wasn't to last. Such a shame to waste that ass while it was still young and tender. Slowly he stalked her until she was cornered in the kitchen. He wanted to pounce right there and then, but Gina had been moving around a little, and he didn't think the woman would be amenable to his fucking her daughter up the ass in the kitchen. So he maneuvered himself so that she couldn't escape until she gave him what he wanted: information. He was elated that she was going to grandma's house already. Gina had lamented their lack of a car, so he knew the only way to get there would be on foot or by bicycle. Odds were on the bike, but even over a bike he would have the advantage. When the girl practically flew out of the house and onto her bicycle, Raoul chuckled. She was scared now. He could smell her fear. He couldn't wait until he caught up to her.

Raoul made sure Gina saw him before she walked into the bathroom. He gave her a non-committal wave before she closed the door. Then he was off. His blood was pumping as he picked up her scent, but he had already figured out where the grandmother's house was, so he made a bee line across the roads and into the woods. He had left his car behind so he would have an alibi. Gina was still messed up enough that she wouldn't be able to figure out where he went, but she could easily see his car remained in place. 

Raoul was fast as he ran through the small town, but once he reached the woods his speed more than tripled. It was nearly a full moon, and it had given him extra strength for the run through town. But it also gave him one more surprise. Stripping his clothes off and tossing them into the top of a tree, he let his body spring forward in an inhumanly long leap, giving it time to twist and turn until a sleek black wolf was running in his place. He could run at least twice the speed of the bicycle, but he also had the advantage of a straight path through the woods. He also hoped the girl would stop for flowers, as he'd suggested. Loping past huge oaks and firs, the animals of the forest became totally silent as he passed. Had he been human, he would have laughed. As it was, his tongue lolled in a wolfish grin, drool already dripping in anticipation of capturing his prey.


Riding the Wolf Ch. 02



Hunter Jones's intense blue eyes followed the werewolf's trail as it led from the suburbs and into the woods leading into the mountains. Hunter sighed, running his hand through his shaggy, light blond hair. This was the perfect place for a rogue. The town was not large but it was full of transients: college kids, vacationers, people who weren't going to be recognized, or missed. The ringing howls of the wolf had reached him nearly 10 miles away. Normally a wolf's howl traveled about 6 miles, but werewolves were larger, and resultantly louder. Plus, Hunter's hearing was rather better than most. The feral, viscous triumph he heard in the wolf's voice told him that the beast had found his prey.

Hunter hated rogues. He had no problem with werewolves, and was, in fact, trailing this one at the behest of the Philly pack leader. The rogue had marked all over their territory and killed a rancher and his family. It was not the thing most werewolves did, and it was why they live in packs. Any wolf that had violent tendencies was easily subdued by the other, more balanced pack members, and if not, the Alpha would simply take the wolf out before he could go rogue. Occasionally, though, they weren't fast enough. The Philly Alpha didn't know where this rogue had come from, but any werewolf that killed indiscriminately was instantly pegged for death, and bounty hunters were called in. Most didn't know why the rogues were different from the other werewolves, but Hunter had asked one rogue while he lay dying at Hunter's feet. The rogue had laughed and said it was because he was still human. 

At first that made no sense. Most werewolves didn't think of themselves as human, but he supposed it was true there was a part of them that still was. Then the reality of it hit him, and Hunter felt like a fool as the rogue continued to explain. For most werewolves, the influence of their wolf was calming. Wolves had very simple emotions and motivations, and the often complicated ones of their human counter ids were usually met with confusion from the beast. Wolves didn't understand jealousy, hatred or shame. When met with these emotions, the wolf usually responded to its confusion with fear. This would force the human to buckle down on their own feelings in order to soothe their secondary psyche, giving werewolves a much calmer disposition as they learned to control themselves. The only exception was when the feelings of the human were shared by the wolf. Happiness and love were easy, and the wolf reveled in the strong emotions of the human. But fear and anger, these emotions always caused problems, which is why the Alpha became so important. When fight or flight kicked in, for a werewolf, flight was always the choice when humans were involved. If there was a supernatural creature, it would depend on the situation. Too many werewolves felt the need to stand their ground, no matter what, and it was the primary issue in packs, which the Alpha was always striving to control. But with rogues, most of them felt the fear trigger and went wild. These rogues could often be brought back into a pack, but many couldn't and now Hunter was beginning to understand why. If a human's emotions were too strong, too violent, the animal would often become so frightened it would simply retreat into the back of their conjoined psyche to escape its secondary self. This gave the human full control over the wolf's powers, but without any animal instincts, just the twisted, sociopathic desires of the human. It was a frightening concept, and Hunter thought he recognized it in the howl of this werewolf.

Hunter began to panic. He knew that if the werewolf was howling in manic joy, he was probably too late, but he ditched his bike anyhow and began to run in a bee line towards the sound. It took him nearly an hour before he came upon the whitewashed cabin in the woods, and the sun was high in the sky. A werewolf that attacked in broad daylight set his teeth on edge. Most attacked at night, when they had the advantage of better senses than their prey. If this wolf was more human, however, it made sense, since the wolf would be weaker in the daylight with the moon's influence dampened. 

Hunter approached cautiously, his ears straining to hear any signs that the werewolf was still present. The only thing he heard was sobbing and someone praying in Spanish. It seemed that this wolf had left its victims alive. Hunter wasn't sure if that was a good thing, or bad. He bounded up the three steps to the porch with one leap and knocked gently on the door. When the door opened to reveal the face of a handsome older woman who stared at him with grief stricken eyes, he was thankful for his forethought in dealing with humans, and flashed the shiny silver star.

"I'm Deputy Jones, US Marshals. I've been tracking an escaped convict, and would like to ask you a few questions."

The woman nodded mutely, and he was thankful she understood English. His Spanish was rusty, as was his Mandarin and Arabic. He'd taken a lot of language classes, but the amount that stuck was limited to basic conversations. She led him inside and there was a young girl lying on the couch, the side tables, coffee table and sofa table surrounding it were filled with lit candles. It looked almost as if they had been performing some strange exorcism. He noticed both the women were still damp from a shower, wrapped in bathrobes, and their tan skin looked just a little too pink, like they'd gone overboard with the loofah. The floor was freshly scrubbed with a strong, lemon scented cleaner, but he could still make out the tangy taste of blood in the air. The werewolf had obviously been here, and shed blood, yet the two women were both whole and seemingly unharmed. The young woman on the couch suddenly stopped sobbing and he noticed her staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. He smiled tentatively and she scrambled to a sitting position. The older woman didn't seem to notice the young one's reaction and sat down in a chair she had pulled next to the couch, beginning to pray again. Watching the young woman tremble and stare at him with such anxiety, while the older woman was numbly staring into the candle flames, he deduced that they had obviously suffered some trauma. He'd seen people react with grief from the loss of a loved one with the reactions of the grandmother, but the granddaughter's reaction didn't fit grief. When he realized what it reminded him of he was nearly sick. The over scrubbed appearance, the uncontrollable sobbing, and the irrational fear of a strange man in her house: the werewolf had raped them. On top of the brutality of being raped in the first place, the triumphant howls he'd heard made him certain that he'd not done the act as a man.

Hunter clenched his fists tightly and lowered his gaze to the floor, taking deep even breaths, trying to calm his raging fury. He didn't want the women to know how angry he was, it might frighten them, but he could barely contain himself. He'd never seen a case like this, but he'd heard of it once. The girl involved had not simply been raped once, but again and again as the werewolf stalked her over the course of several weeks. She'd been committed to an insane asylum eventually because no one believed her ravings of the horrible monster who was abusing her, and they could never find evidence of an attacker. They had assumed her wounds were self inflicted and locked her away for her protection. It was in the early 20th century, and the only reason anyone even knew was because another inmate, who had been put into the ward for strange behavior, had escaped when the moon was full. She later told her pack of the horror the girl had described to her, but in the many years since, most werewolves thought it an urban legend.

When Hunter finally felt he could speak without bursting into an angry rant, he raised his gaze to look at the young girl again, not meeting her eyes directly, but observing her inadvertently, while staring beyond her shoulder. So much time spent with werewolves made him want to treat her like a young pack member, avoiding a challenging stare, not confronting her directly. When he approached her, he didn't walk straight to her, but instead moved sideways to stand at the back of the sofa. He could sense her relaxing, and as the fear of him drained away, it was replaced by something he didn't expect. Her voice trembled, still choked with her earlier sobs.

"You don't act like a cop. You know, don't you?"

Briefly he flicked his eyes to meet her hopeful gaze. Nodding his head, he found that the grandmother had stopped her chanting to listen to the conversation.

"You can protect us? It said it would come again..."

Now the prayers made more sense. They were trying to invoke protection, not exorcism. It was the other case all over again, the werewolf involved would certainly return. Hunter smiled gently at the girl, not trusting his voice yet and nodded again. If the wolf returned, it made his job easier. He would simply need to wait, and then take him down. Hunter noticed the grandmother glowering at him. He was surprised by her sudden anger.

"How can you protect us? It was a demon who came, no mortal man would stand a chance against such a creature."

Although he knew it wasn't the wisest thing to do, he met the grandmother's stare.

"Ma'am, I am no mortal man."

The grandmother dropped her gaze, shuddering with sudden apprehension. He knew he'd frightened her, but he needed their cooperation, and by the looks of the house, it belonged to the older woman, not the girl. Suddenly Hunter was nearly barreled over as the young girl crashed into him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug, sobbing into his chest. Slowly, Hunter wrapped his arms around the girl and rubbed her back gently, murmuring soothing words and swearing again and again that he would protect them both. Finally her sobs broke into violent tremors and he lifted her in his arms, carrying her towards the bedroom he could see through an open door. When the girl saw where they were going, she began screaming and kicking in fear. He realized that the bastard must have raped them in the bedroom, and immediately turned around, whispering assurances and reminding her she was safe now. When she had calmed somewhat, he laid her down gently on the couch again, moving the coffee table so he could hold her hand. Finally she seemed to wear herself out and began to nod off to sleep.

Hunter turned to the grandmother, who watched him suspiciously from her chair. He still didn't know their names, and figured this was as good a time as any to ask. Taking out a digital voice recorder, he clicked play and introduced himself again.

"I'm Deputy Marshall Jones, Ma'am. I've tracked an escaped convict to this area, and I get the feeling he has been here. I can protect you and your granddaughter, but I need to know what happened. I know you haven't contacted the police, yet. If you want, I can submit my report to them for you."

The old woman snorted, and Hunter sighed with agreement.

"Your case, it may not be well received by the local sheriff, I know. That does not mean you will not get justice. I have no other cases, just this one, and I can protect you..."

"How? You said you are no mortal man, but this demon, this creature, it is... it is..."

The grandmother was at a loss for words.

"What is your name, ma'am?"

"Regina."

"Regina. The creature, it is a werewolf."

Regina gasped, and covered herself with her hands, as if protectively. A wild light in her eyes told him far more than words.

"It bit you?"

She nodded mutely.

"Scratches?"

Again, the nod.

"What about your granddaughter...?"

"Rosita..."

The old woman whispered the sleeping girl's name, but shook her head. Hunter thought it strange that the werewolf hadn't harmed the girl. He needed to get Regina to tell him exactly what happened. He reached into a pouch on his belt and took out a silver vial.

"I have something I can give you to make sure you don't turn into a werewolf, but I don't think it will be necessary. The moon wasn't full and it was daylight. A werewolf tends only to transfer the condition if it is out of control. The fact that you are both alive..."

Hunter's voice trailed off, and Regina nodded, but held her hand out for the vial anyhow. He handed it to her and she opened the cap and downed the contents. She made a grimace at the terrible taste, but was otherwise unaffected. As he'd suspected, she was not turned. Feeling a little calmer, Regina finally began to talk about the attack, numbly giving Hunter details he wished she hadn't. The werewolf had done everything in his power to terrify the two women without permanently damaging them. The fact that he had used the grandmother to coerce Rosita into participating in her own rape, Hunter began to again feel his rage building. This was why he did this job. There weren't many supernatural creatures that lost control. There were safety nets in place. There were enough of them, however, that the small group of bounty hunters like him turned out a nice profit. Especially since the packs and families that ordered the hits were old and well established, with money.

Hunter listened attentively, not asking any questions. When Regina finished, she sat numbly for a minute, then looked up to meet his gaze, her eyes seeming to have grown more confident with releasing the burden of her story.

"How are you going to protect us, Marshall Jones? Do you carry silver bullets in your revolver?"

Hunter chuckled. He did have silver bullets, and pepper spray with wolfs bane, silver nitrate, and a few other strange ingredients. But these protections were for emergencies. They were for if he were caught off guard. And of course, they were for the benefit of the clients, who never seemed to have enough confidence in the man who had successfully taken down 30 creatures in his short 8 years of work. Also, when the locals figured out what was going on, it was better to play mortal hunter, rather than reveal himself. A few times the witch hunt had expanded to the huntsman.

"Among other things, Regina. I promise, I am well equipped to protect you and Rosita from the werewolf, as well as stop him from hurting anyone else. I will need your help, though."

Regina scowled and Hunter hurried to reassure her.

"I will not be putting your or your granddaughter in harm's way, but I believe that the creature will come back here, and I want your permission to be here when he does."

"Can't you go out and get it?"

"I could, but there is no telling where he'd be when I found him. And if the werewolf is human at the time, I will be dragged off to jail for murder, which I don't wish to happen. There's a right way to hunt down a werewolf, and then there's the better way to hunt down a werewolf. The moon will be full in just one more day, and he will probably come here."

Hunter took out his phone and showed her the moon phase app that was his background.

"It will be full at 11:25 am. I will be looking for him, spying, you could say, until then, but before the moon is full, I will return and wait for him. I need you and Rosita to be here waiting as well. Otherwise he will wait until another time. Werewolves are at their strongest when the moon is full, but they are also at their most vulnerable, because their control is lessened."

The grandmother nodded thoughtfully before giving her answer.

"If we do not stop this creature now, it will harm more people."

Hunter nodded.

"Then it is our responsibility to rid the world of its evil. We will be here."

"Thank you, Regina. I promise I will keep you both safe. You have my word."

Regina leaned back in the armchair and closed her eyes. She looked exhausted. When Hunter heard her soft snores humming in tandem with that of her granddaughter's, he stood. Placing one of the afghans over her body, he quietly left the two women to their rest and went to make his battle plan.

*****************************************************

Raoul wanted to celebrate, so he went and got drunk. He stopped by to grab Gina first, because he'd found out that she was a slut when he was drunk and he felt like humiliating someone. Three generations in one day! Surely it had to be some kind of record! As Gina drank her fifth beer, she began to wobble while she danced to the 80's music booming from the bar's speakers. A couple of the older men in the bar were eyeing her speculatively, and Raoul felt the need to claim his territory. Sidling up behind Gina, he began to stroke her body until he'd pulled her miniskirt up high enough to show off her barely there g-string. She giggled nervously and slapped his hand away. He did the same thing to her tube top until her lacy bra was peeking out. The other men were practically salivating, but Gina wasn't far enough gone yet, so he encouraged her to take another beer, chanting.

"Gulp! Gulp! Gulp!"

Not wanting to disappoint her attentive new lover, Gina downed the beer and nearly fell over as she tipped the glass back, sloshing the last ounce down her neck and into her cleavage. Raoul began licking the beer from her skin, not stopping when he reached the valley of her breasts, but sliding the bra and top right down to her stomach. The bar owner quickly drew the shades and turned the open sign off. He loved these crazy college kids, and he knew that Gina's reputation meant that the men in the bar were about to get a show. Gina's face grew red as Raoul began licking and sucking her nipples in front of everyone. She tried to tell him to stop, but her speech was too slurred and she was dizzy. When she stumbled again, Raul lifted her and lay her down on the pool table, thrusting her skirt up and yanking her panties off in one swift move. Gina's head lolled off one side of the table while her legs dangled from the other and Raoul quickly knelt between her thighs and began to lick her salty cunt. She screamed in surprise and began writhing and moaning on the table. Catching the bar tender's eye, he paused briefly.

"Two tripples of your strongest stuff, my good man! We're celebrating!"

The man quickly brought him two shot glasses full of clear liquid and instead of drinking them himself, he pulled Gina to a sitting position and told her to drink one. She downed it without question, panting and desperate for him to continue. He took a small sip of the second, holding the liquid in his mouth before giving the rest of the glass to her, which she drank, falling backwards as she did. Raoul went back between her legs and dribbled the nearly tasteless vodka onto her throbbing pussy before licking it all up again. Gina's pussy was on fire, tingling from the alcohol and Raoul's hot tongue. When she began to cum, he pulled his cock out and slammed it into her quivering hole. She screamed and gripped the pool table with her hands, her breasts thrusting upwards, bouncing with every rapid thrust. She was beyond caring that the other men had all freed their rods from their pants and were watching her fuck as they beat their cocks. 

Raoul noticed that her eyes were squeezed shut, reveling in the pleasure, and with all the alcohol she'd drank, he figured she'd have blurry vision by now anyway. He was about to cum, and gestured to the closest man to come closer. The burly trucker was only too thrilled to step behind Raoul and wait for him to shoot his load into Gina. With barely a pause, the two switched places and the trucker began fucking Gina vigorously. She never opened her eyes, just continued moaning and holding the table for the ride. Raoul took out his phone and stealthily began to record her whoring. As the trucker began to grunt in readiness, another of the 8 men in the bar stepped forward, stroking his cock in anticipation. After her fifth orgasm, and fourth man, Gina finally opened her eyes to stare in disbelief. No man had this kind of stamina! Raoul had been growing excited again, and when he saw the confusion and then the fear tinting Gina's gaze, he grabbed her face and began to slide his cock into her mumbling mouth. She could do nothing to stop him, her arms waving drunkenly as he fucked her face and the remaining men, including the bartender and owner, all unloaded their jizz into her stretched pussy.




Riding the Wolf Ch. 02



When they finished, he congratulated the men on helping him fulfill his girlfriend's fantasy and fixed her clothes. Cum was dripping down her legs as Raoul dragged the stumbling Gina to his car, dumping her unceremoniously in the back seat. He left her in the entryway, where she fell and closed the door. He lay on the couch and drifted off to sleep.

*********************************************************

Hunter followed the werewolf's trail until he arrived at an apartment that he realized belonged to Rosita. At least she lived there. He figured this must be her mother's place. He checked it out, confused that the wolf would have gone to her in both places, but when he saw the silver convertible, with the younger version of Regina passed out in the passenger seat, he put the pieces together quickly. Watching the young man half walk, half drag the intoxicated Gina to the door, fumbling with her keys, Raoul could smell the sex emanating from them both. Hunter figured this guy must have been a serial rapist before he'd become a werewolf, he seemed so at ease with the nearly comatose drunk, his own legs only the slightest unsteady. When they went inside, he was disappointed to note that the lock clicked back into place after they closed the door. Waiting outside the apartment for the werewolf to wake from his alcohol induced stupor would be pointless, and there were too many security cameras in this place for him to do the deed now. He would have to fall back on his original plan, and kicked the stand of his motorcycle, letting the throttle roar open as he sped back down the mountain road towards Rosita.

***********************************************************

Rosita watched as the werewolf climbed through her window, approaching her bed with wide jaws and hungry eyes. She lay naked on the sheets, waiting for him, her arms and legs open in anticipation of the embrace. The werewolf snarled and pounced, its claws ripping into her flesh, its cock slamming into her pussy with viscous thrusts. Rosita moaned like a whore, begging the wolf for more, until finally she felt its jaws close, ripping her throat open, the blood covering them both.

Rosita awoke screaming. The vision of the dream was still vivid in her mind. Strong hands wrapped around her and stroked her until she was able to calm down enough that the screams turned to sobs. She knew it was the Marshall, and although she would have expected to be fearful, he was a man, after all, she felt completely safe in his arms. This man knew what they were up against, and he'd sworn to protect them anyway. She burrowed her head into his chest and focused on taking strong, deep breaths. When she no longer felt like vomiting, she peeked out at the room and realized she was still on the couch. Listening, she didn't hear the tell tale signs of her Abuela bustling around the cabin, nor her snoring. They were alone.

"It's alright, Rosita, you're safe. He can't hurt you now."

Rosita pulled back from his embrace and stared into his deep, blue eyes. At first, Hunter thought he should tell her about the werewolf shacking up with her mother, but the steady gaze she speared him with made him feel unsure. This terrorized young girl was staring at him with complete trust, and it appeared that she wanted something from him. Before he could react, she leaned forward and gently pressed her lips to his in an innocent, but searing kiss. She didn't linger, but continued to stare at him. When he didn't move, she cleared her throat, obviously coming to some conclusion in her mind.

"What happened to me... and my Abuela. It was terrible. When I sleep I have nightmares. I've always dreamed of having a family some day, children. But the thought of a man... touching me..."

She shuddered and Hunter wanted to hold her again, but worried her reaction would be fear. He didn't want this delicate creature to fear him. So he kept quiet and let her continue.

"I don't want to be afraid any more. There is nothing I can do about the wolf. I trust you to save me from him. But I don't know what to do about the... sex. I don't know if I can go on with the memory of my first time being with a monster. I wish I could erase it. Or replace it."

Her last words were barely a whisper, as she looked up at him through long dark lashes, her chocolate eyes burning straight into his soul. Hunter knew what she was asking, and felt both humbled and concerned. Rape victims almost never went straight back into sex. He was no therapist, but this seemed too soon. And that was when he realized she would never be able to talk to a therapist about this. Not really. A therapist would insist the wolf was a metaphor, and Rosita wouldn't be allowed to express the truth of the terrifying experience. This was not a normal rape, and he felt that the normal methods were not going to work. Clearing his throat several times, his voice was still thick with surprise and arousal when he answered her.

"Let me be sure I understand. You want... me... to take your virginity?"

She didn't argue the fact that she wasn't technically a virgin any more. The hymen didn't matter so much as the act. What had been done to Rosita was not sex. If he took her, it would be for the first time. It was what she wanted.

"I trust you. I don't know why, but I do. I don't think I'll ever be able to trust another man if the memory is still lingering in my mind. I'll be afraid that he'll hurt me, or that he'll be gentle, and I just won't be able to respond. I need you to help me move past the fear, the pain, because you know what happened to me, and I won't need to risk disbelief. I feel safe with you. Please..."

Rosita reached up and stroked his cheek and he knew he was lost. It was all over now. He'd seen the note from the grandmother that she had gone to the oncologist and her numbers had made the doctor insist she stay overnight for observation. They were completely alone until the morning. Hunter nodded his head in acceptance and allowed her to slowly begin exploring him. 

He made no moves of his own, simply allowed the girl to touch and kiss him, giving all of the control to her. She began by kissing his lips again, slowly, testing the soft skin with her own. She trailed her lips down to his jaw line, and neck. When Rosita reached the collar of his shirt, she slowly began unbuttoning the buttons until she could stroke her hands up and down his smooth, muscled chest and stomach. Hunter was strong. Fighting monsters, he had to be. He spent nearly all his off time at the gym, and his 6'5" frame carried 245 lbs of solid muscle. Her mouth began kissing where her hands had played and he couldn't stop himself from gasping. She started, gazing up at his face, which he struggled to keep relaxed and calm. He knew the slightest thing could set her off. She only stared at him for a moment before resuming her exploration. When she undid his belt and tugged at his pants, he obediently lifted his hips and allowed her to slide them from his body. He felt silly sitting naked on the couch, with his shirt unbuttoned and his pants around his ankles, trapped by his boots. He didn't complain, however, as she stared open mouthed at his raging erection. He almost wished he could have remained impassive to her teasing. A flaccid cock would have been much less intimidating. There was little he could do, however, short of an ice cold shower. So he simply focused on sitting very, very still while she adjusted to the sight of her first nude man.

When Rosita licked her lips nervously, Hunter's cock twitched. His breath was near panting as she lowered her head to kiss the tip of his cock. He gripped the sofa cushions tightly and focused on is breathing as she slowly kissed up and down his shaft. In spite of his efforts to calm himself, he let out a moan, and he tilted his head backwards, hoping she wouldn't notice the nearly pained expression her torture was bringing him. Hunter wasn't sure if this was Heaven or Hell as his whole body hummed with delayed pleasure. When she stopped touching him he nearly whimpered in protest, his head snapping up to see if she was becoming frightened. Instead, he saw her slipping out of her robe to stand naked in front of him.

Hunter's mouth went dry as he stared at the satiny, caramel colored skin and the dusky rose nipples that peaked in the cool air. Her long black hair reached nearly past her waist, which narrowed, then flared to the most perfect hips he'd ever seen. They were both slender, and rounded just where her ass cheeks bounced on her behind. When she climbed on top of him and tried to lower her pulsing heat onto his painfully throbbing cock, he was certain he would explode any second.

"Wait."

His voice was a hoarse croak. She stilled, his cock pressing against her tight entrance. She was moist, but not nearly enough. She wasn't ready for him yet. And Hunter was just a little too ready. Rosita paused, but didn't attempt to move from his body, so he took hold of her hips and gently lifted her to sit next to him on the couch. Sliding down to kneel between her legs he watched her flushed face. She still looked nervous, and his taking the control from her was increasing her anxiety. In spite of what she had told him, it was obvious she did not trust him completely. It was time he taught her that a man could be trusted with her body.

Slowly, and without taking his eyes from hers, Hunter began to gently massage Rosita's feet and ankles. When her breathing slowed, he moved upwards, relaxing her anxious body. As his hands caressed her hips, he felt her stiffen slightly, and her breath caught. Immediately he moved his hands to her shoulders, working his way down her arms, even rubbing the tips of her fingers. Returning to her neck, his hands tenderly massaged her collarbone and the sides of her ribs and stomach. As his hands touched the underside of her breasts, her breathing became rapid again, and he whispered softly to ease her fears.

"It's alright. Just relax and focus on breathing. I will take care of you."

Rosita tried to focus on her breaths, as he said, while Hunter began to gently massage her breasts. She could feel the pleasure rippling through her body, but it wasn't too intense. He had her body very relaxed, and she was able to simply enjoy the sensations without the urgency she'd felt before. While his left hand continued to stroke her bosom, the right moved languidly towards her stomach, then over her mons, missing no part of her as he caressed and massaged. Her gaze had left his and watched, enthralled as his hands tantalized her body. Reminding her again to breathe easy, he slid his hands over the outer lips of her pussy, gently squeezing the lips like he had the rest of her body. Then he began to massage the inner lips. Rosita's breathing remained steady, but he heard her begin to moan softly as his fingers explored her folds. When his fingers stroked her hooded clit, her eyes closed as her head tipped back against the sofa cushions. He moved his thumb against her clit in alternating circles until it peeked from within its protective hood. When it stood fully erect, he took the tiny bud and began to gently squeeze and stroke it between his fingers. She was moaning with each lungful of air now, but her breaths continued to remain steady, her body relaxed as she simply enjoyed the sensations. When he slid his middle finger into her tight sheath, he felt her walls shudder briefly before relaxing against the minor intrusion. He could see tears sliding down her cheeks, but her body continued to remain relaxed, and her open mouth was curved ever so slightly in pleasure. He allowed his pinky slide against her tight asshole, but did not press inside, merely stimulating and stroking the sensitive area. When he slipped his last finger into her slickening pussy, he heard her moan intensify as Rosita's body gripped him in fluttering waves, gently letting her juices down as her first orgasm released. 

Rosita had never felt so loved in her whole life. She felt so happy, she thought she was purring. Then she realized the deep rumbling was coming from below her. Peeking down at the man who was kneeling between her thighs, his fingers gently pumping and swirling inside her, she watched his face as he stared in rapt attention at her own reactions. She knew she should have felt startled when she saw his blue eyes had slitted pupils and were glowing faintly from within. However, she felt nothing but trust for the man whose throat was purring as he brought her towards yet another tingling orgasm.

Hunter was using every ounce of his self control to keep himself from dragging the girl down onto his raging cock. He was fascinated by the play of emotions across her face as her pussy dripped her luscious cream onto his hands. He desperately wanted to taste her, but wasn't sure if it would be too much. He hadn't noticed that his tiger was creeping into his eyes, or that he was purring with the pleasure of her scent washing over him. His focus was entirely on Rosita, and bringing her the healing love he knew she needed.

Rosita's breathing was becoming harder to control as she rode the third, much more intense orgasm. She felt tears streaming down her cheeks as the release finally broke through all of her fears of the past day. The relief from the fear struck a chord in her, and she knew she couldn't lie still any longer. She closed her eyes to settle herself then spoke a single word.

"Stop."

Immediately, Hunter ceased the massage and gently slid his hands from her body. When she opened her eyes again, she could see his face flush with arousal, his blazing blue eyes dilated so that the slits were nearly circles. Placing her hands on his shoulders she lightly pushed on his chest, urging him to lie down. She could feel his chest rumbling, as the purr emanated from deep within. When he was reclining on the rug, Rosita slid down from the sofa and straddled his body. She could feel him trembling with restraint and his cock shuddered as it slid against her stomach. She took him in her hands, lightly exploring his length, and the rumbling purr turned to a rousing growl. She never moved her sultry gaze from his member as she wiggled her body lower and licked the tip of his engorged head. Hunter fisted his hands beside him and his hips tightened as he forced himself not to thrust into her hot, wet mouth. It was torture, but he made himself lie still as she covered his cock with feathery kisses and licks. Although it felt like forever to him, Rosita took pity on him and ceased her play quickly. Grasping his shaft firmly, she climbed on top of him and lowered her dripping pussy onto his cock. 

The massage had left Rosita feeling relaxed and empowered, and her body remained so even as his shaft stretched her wide. Hunter, however, was digging clawed fingers into the rug as the exquisite feel of her silken lips engulfed him. His hot gaze never left hers, however, and when he saw her gaze flicker to his hands he suddenly realized he had grown tiger claws and was growling quite loudly. His heart thumped wildly in his chest, terrified that he would scare her until she put two hands on his chest and began to ride him slowly. The threw his head back and yowled in pleasure, forgetting about his tiger entirely and focusing instead on keeping himself from shooting his load. With maddeningly slow movements, she ground her hips against him, riding his cock and letting her hands explore his tingling skin. He could feel the fur wanting to burst free and tried to keep it back, but that took his attention away from slowing his pleasure. When he heard her voice he was confused at first, so tight was his focus.

"Please look at me."

Hunter's eyes opened slowly, and the sight of the sultry goddess above him, her tits rippling with each downward thrust, nearly unmanned him.

"It's okay."

He stared into her eyes, not understanding what she meant. When she stroked his chest again, she lowered her eyes, and following her gaze, he could see the white fur of his under belly sprouting from his human skin. His tiger was bursting free and she didn't mind. He grinned in feral delight and sharp fangs sprang from his lips. No longer worried about controlling the shift, Hunter let his tiger loose, his body rippling with thick white fur and dark black stripes. The silken fur against silken skin brought Rosita closer and she stroked and petted his pelt while Hunter began making deep, guttural grunts that began in his chest and rose louder and louder into his throat. When she threw herself back to take him in as deeply as possible, her hands stroking his thighs, her breasts thrusting up towards her bared throat, Hunter knew he could last no longer. He ripped the rug beneath him to shreds and let out a deafening roar as his cock exploded into her, barely registering the scream of the young woman as her pussy shattered around him, drenching him in her sweet nectar. 

When the pleasure finally ceased, Rosita fell against his furred chest and Hunter carefully wrapped his arms around her, holding tightly while they both panted in exhaustion. She rubbed her cheek against his fur and began stroking his tufted ears. He nuzzled her hair and chuckled softly. He had been so worried about scaring her, and here she was, fearless in the arms of a weretiger. His brave little Rosita would do just fine. Now all he had to do was kill the rogue werewolf that threatened her, and obtain permission from the local pack leader to provide her with sanctuary.



Riding the Wolf Ch. 03



Rosita awoke with the scream held tightly behind her lips. It was her third night after the rape, and her second nightmare. She had thought it wouldn't come back, after her night with Marshal Jones. Rosita blushed, as she suddenly realized she had never asked for his first name. After making love to her, he had tucked her into bed and held her gently throughout the night. She had had no dreams, only healing slumber. She looked at the mattress beside her, the moonlight illuminating the empty sheets. Timidly, she got up, the long night dress slithering against her skin as it fell down to her knees. She peeked into her grandmother's living room and sighed with relief as she saw him, a silent sentinel, peering out the window. Knowing Jones was protecting her, she climbed back into bed, the dream forgotten, and fell back asleep.

The next morning, Rosita awoke to the smell of cinnamon. Going into the kitchen she found a pot of cinnamon oatmeal, still warm, and a note.

Checking the perimeter. I will return shortly.

Rosita sighed and scooped oatmeal into her bowl. As she licked the spoon, swallowing the sweet, mushy cereal, she thought about what to do now. Jones had warned her not to leave the cabin. The werewolf's threat to return was still looming over her head, and he told her he planned to stake out the house until the monster's arrival. While washing her bowl in the sink, Rosita came to a decision. She couldn't wait.

Her grandmother was already safe, under observation in the hospital because of her chemotherapy. Jones had mentioned that the werewolf had been to her apartment, and Gina had made the connection, realizing that her mother's new boyfriend must be the wolf. She thought of his eyes as he'd leered at her in the kitchen the first morning, then the eyes of the werewolf as it loomed over her. There was no doubt in her mind that they were the same. 

Knowing Jones would be able to come after her well before she reached her home, she picked up the phone and dialed her mother's cell phone. It was much too early in the morning for Gina. Normally she would expect the phone to go to voicemail, but something told her that this morning, it wouldn't. She wasn't the least surprised when a sultry male voice answered.

"Gina's phone. Sorry she can't come to the phone right now. Is that you, chica?"

Rosita struggled to keep the anger and revulsion from her voice as she replied.

"Uh, yeah. It is. Hey, tell my mom that Abuela is in the hospital? I'm alone at her house, right now. I got a flat tire on my bike. I need her to pick me up."

Rosita could practically hear the wheels in the man's head as they whirred with this new information. He only paused a moment, however, before replying.

"I can come get you. Your mom's asleep."

Rosita leapt at the opening she was waiting for.

"Could you, really? I'm so glad. I don't want to be alone right now."

The man's chuckle was pure evil, and a shiver ran up Rosita's spine. She felt goose bumps on her arm as he promised to come down and get her as soon as possible. Hanging up the phone, Rosita took several deep breaths to steady herself. She didn't know when Hunter would be back. She expected him any minute, but his idea of perimeter might be larger than she thought. 

Not wanting to be caught unawares, Rosita threw on a pair of jeans and a tank top then, slipping into her red poncho last, the comforting feel of the familiar material bolstering her nerves. Next she went into the pantry and pulled out her grandmother's shotgun. Unloading it, she looked at the shells laid out on the table with a frown. Werewolves were tough. She knew the stories. Supposedly you needed silver bullets. Abuela didn't have silver bullets. Staring at the large shells, Rosita suddenly had an idea. Going into her grandmother's bedroom, she opened her jewelry box and found what she was looking for: three heavy silver chains. Bringing the chains into the kitchen, she got a small paring knife and gently pulled the caps from the cartridges. Dumping the pellets into an empty cup, she began breaking the soft silver chain into pieces and filling the cartridges. Carefully, she pushed the caps back into the shell and loaded the gun.

Rosita's timing was perfect. She heard the distinct sounds of tires crunching on the gravel drive. She pumped the shotgun, and calmly walked to the door. She opened it just as Raoul was closing the door to the convertible. The wide, wicked grin on his face turned slack as she wasted no time, swinging the barrel towards his body and taking aim for his heart. Those eyes. She would never forget those eyes. Rosita was fast, but the wolf was faster, ducking just as she squeezed the trigger. Instead of hitting him square in the chest, the fast moving chains buried themselves into his shoulder. Rosita fired again, missing him entirely as Raoul shifted into his wolf, his clothes and shoes shredding from his furry body. While she was distracted trying to load the next two rounds, Raoul took the opportunity to lunge. She saw him coming and dropped the shells, swinging the barrel at his open jaws. 

It probably wouldn't have stopped him at all except that in the moment before she made contact, a thundering roar shook the trees. The wolf's gaze left his prey for just long enough that the sudden thud of metal on flesh left him temporarily startled. Rosita was able to scramble back into the house and deadbolt the door. The werewolf's body crashed into it, the wood cracking against his weight. She waited for it to shatter, but instead, the whole cabin shuddered as the wolf's body was sent careening into a support stud for the porch roof, causing it to partially collapse. Peeking out the window, Rosita saw Marshal Jones's tiger quietly stalking towards the prone wolf, who was scrambling to untangle himself from the splinters of wood and roof tiles. The two collided in a thrashing of fur, claws and teeth, and Rosita had difficulty telling who was who as the two bodies zipped across the yard. Gathering her courage, Rosita loaded two more shells and unlocked the door, stepping out onto the porch.

She didn't have a clear shot. The tiger and the werewolf were locked together in fierce battle, both were covered with blood. Rosita couldn't even tell who was winning as the two circled each other with viscous snarls on their lips. Then she noticed the limp. The wolf's shoulder would give slightly as he padded over the ground. She could see that their wounds were all healing rapidly, and most were nothing more than bloodied, but otherwise unmarred fur. Raoul's shoulder was a different story. Instead of rapidly healing, it looked as if the shoulder she'd hit with the chains was rapidly festering. It was swollen and bleeding copiously. Jones was taking full advantage of the werewolf's weakness, clawing and scratching the wound whenever he had an opening. Raoul's howls of pain and rage were beginning to sound desperate.

Suddenly, Raoul was on top of Jones, his jaws clamped tightly against the tiger's throat while the tiger's frantic claws tried to pry the vice from his windpipe. Rosita knew she couldn't miss, and dashed forward, towards the struggling monsters, thrusting the shotgun between them and firing at the werewolf's chest at point blank range. The grunt of pain as Raoul's eyes widened in surprise was enough to give Jones's fingers a chance to slip between the massive jaws. He threw the wolf from his body as Rosita took aim a second time. She fired at the wolf, the chain pellets sinking into multiple points along his chest and stomach, and he howled in anger and fear. Scrambling to his feet, he turned tail and ran, limping into the forest, towards the mountains.

Hunter rushed to Rosita's side, admiring the rise and fall of her bosom as she panted, the gun still gripped firmly in her hands. He gently touched her face, tilting her chin to look up at him, trying to gauge if she was alright, or about to have a break down. Staring into her hard eyes, he smiled grimly, and she nodded in agreement. Hunter knew she would be fine, and loped off after the fleeing werewolf.

The tracks were easy enough to find, and he quickly caught up with Raoul. The werewolf had shifted into his human form and made a bee line for the road. Hunter scowled. The man would try to find some poor human to use for cover. Hunter would never attack him with a human present, and he knew it. Shifting into his human form as well, Hunter reached for the silver plated knife he had strapped to his leg with an elastic band. It was his secret weapon, and it always took the other were's by surprise. After the shift, he was left completely naked, and, they always supposed, helpless when among witnesses. However, Hunter had learned to be resourceful after his first quarry had tried to hide in plain sight. The naked man limping down the highway would certainly gain the sympathy of any approaching car, and Hunter knew that if he exposed any bystanders to his weretiger form, the local pack would hunt him down for potentially exposing their pack and putting them all in danger.

Hunter didn't like attacking a man who wasn't facing him, but he was running out of time and opportunity. Coming up behind the naked man, he slipped the silver knife between his ribs and pierced the heart. The wolf tried to howl in rage, but not a sound came from his parted lips. Then he slumped to the ground, the knife sizzling slightly as the werewolf blood reacted to the silver lining.

Before he could grab a hold of the corpse and pull it into the woods, he heard a motor and looked up to see a silver car fast approaching. Hunter winced. He wasn't prepared to kill a human today, but he also couldn't be report to the local police. Keeping his knife behind his back and out of sight, he crouched down next to the body and tried to look concerned. When the car stopped next to him, he suddenly recognized it. It was the werewolf's convertible. Then he heard Rosita's voice urging him to hurry.

"Let's go! There aren't a lot of people on this road, but I don't think it's a good idea for you to stay here much longer."

Hunter nodded his agreement and grabbed the werewolf, heaving the body over his shoulders. He heard the pop of the trunk opening and went to the rear of the vehicle, dumping the man in his own trunk. Then he slipped into the back seat, his skin slapping against the leather interior. Rosita giggled nervously.

"He left the keys in his pants pocket. They fell out when it got ripped during his change. I grabbed you a spare shirt and sweatpants. They're in the bag. They're for a girl, but you might be able to squeeze into them."

Hunter felt around for the plastic bag that held a gray tee shirt and black track pants. Both materials were very stretchy and although they hugged his frame tightly, he was able to cover himself. Good thing, too, since they saw red and blue lights begin to flash behind them.

"Fuck."

Rosita didn't start slowing down. She was panicked. This was essentially a stolen vehicle, and they had a dead body in the trunk. She could hear Hunter growling in frustration as he let loose another string of curses.

"Pull over Rosita. We can't afford a high speed chase through the mountains."

"But what will we say?"

"When we stop, jump into the back seat. I'll get in the front and answer the cop."

Rosita nodded, her hands trembling as she slid into the dirt at the side of the road and then quickly vaulted into the back seat. Hunter was able to wiggle into the driver's seat before the cop had even opened his door. He quickly adjusted his seat and unlocked the door. Rolling the window down, he put on a bright smile and addressed the cop.

"How's your day going, officer?"

When the policeman leaned down to meet Hunter's gaze, Rosita swore she could see the hairs on the back of his neck raise. The low growl from the cop was not the answer they were expecting. The two faced off, growling at one another for a full minute before Rosita decided to clear her throat and end the macho staring contest. The cop's eyes darted to hers and he seemed genuinely startled to see her. Then his whole face seemed to sink as his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He looked quite terrified of the tiny 5'2" girl sitting tensely on the leather seat.

"She's..."

"Human, yes."

"But..."

"Her family was attacked by the rogue. She assisted in my capture."

The cop's growl returned, but only in his voice as he spoke.

"Capture? He's still alive?"

"Ah, no. He is quite dead. You can check for yourself, if you like. He's in the trunk."

The cop simply grunted, then flicked his eyes to Rosita, his gaze no longer afraid, but still tense.

"You aren't allowed to leave witnesses, hunter."

Hunter stiffened, then realized the man was calling him by his occupation, not his name. Settling his sternest expression on his face, Hunter let his tiger's growl creep back into his voice.

"She will not be touched."

The officer looked a little surprised, then smug.

"We'll have to see what the Alpha says."

Hunter was so agitated, the pupils of his eyes turned to slits as he replied.

"She will notbe touched."

The cop returned the growl and motioned for Hunter to follow him. Hunter waited for the cruiser to pull in front of him, and grudgingly trailed the car up into the mountains. This was a disaster. The Alpha would see the human bystanders as a threat. A threat he was responsible for. Hunter had never been very good with responsibility, at least not in the long run. He'd always taken the quick fix, then moved on, leaving his problems behind. This time, however, he felt a strange compulsion to make things right. It probably had something to do with the young woman sitting behind him. She hadn't said a word once the cop pulled them over, and he knew she must be both terrified and confused. It was several minutes before Rosita was able to calm herself enough to voice her questions. 

"That cop, he's a werewolf, isn't he?"

Hunter eyed Rosita warily. She was tense, gripping edges of the leather seats like they were a life line. He wasn't sure if she had been sitting in the front, if she might have simply made a run for it. He found himself embarrassingly glad that she couldn't reach a door.

"Yes. That was one of the Betas to the pack in this region. They're actually the ones who hired me to find the rogue werewolf. He's been causing problems for weeks now."

"Why did they hire you? Couldn't they have killed him themselves?"

Hunter nodded.

"If they wanted to risk the exposure of the entire pack, sure. But hiring a bounty hunter, someone they aren't responsible for, takes a lot of risk out of the equation. They aren't prepared to kill one of their own if he messes up and exposes himself. Me, they don't care too much. It's one of the reasons I ask for half my money up front. If they think I'm compromised, then I can bolt, and still have made something off the deal."

Rosita was silent for a long time.

"Where are we going?"

Hunter licked his lips nervously. They were going into the pack's den, probably the most dangerous place in the state for a lone tiger and a human to be. He didn't want to worry her even more than she already was, but it wouldn't do any good to lie either.

"We're going to meet the pack's Alpha. As I said, one of the reasons they hired me was to keep human involvement to a minimum. The pack doesn't like it when humans know about them."

"So what happens when we meet him?"

Hunter took so long to answer, Rosita was sure he wouldn't. At least fifty different ideas were bouncing in her mind, each one worse than the last. She worried about her grandmother, her mother, would they be punished also?

"Most of the time a pack will try to turn any humans who have discovered them. That way, the person shares the risk to the pack if they tell. However, exceptions have been made in the past. I'm sure I can get the pack Alpha to see reason. You and your family are no threat to them. I'll make them understand that."

Rosita was surprised by the determination in his voice. Hunter hadn't known her for very long, and yet, his resolve to protect her was profound. She felt like crying with gratitude, but instead, leaned forward and put her hands on his shoulders, caressing the stiff muscles, her hands sliding down to his chest, nearly in an embrace. He shuddered at her touch, leaning into her caress when one hand cupped his cheek.

"Thank you, Marshal Jones."

The whispered gratitude completely undid him. Any chance that he would have backed out and thrown her and hers to the wolves, literally, as an act of self preservation vanished. He'd left everything and everyone behind too many times. This time, he would stand and fight.

"Hunter."

Her hands stilled their stroking.

"What?"

"My first name, it's Hunter."

Her soft voice whispered his name, trying it out against her tongue. He suddenly had a vision of himself, pounding into her supple body as she screamed his name in passion. He vowed that if they lived through this, he would see that fantasy come true.

They followed the car in silence the rest of the way. When they were deep into the mountain preserve, having passed through two gates, the tree line suddenly disappeared and they were on a long driveway that led to a sprawling ranch. The building looked like it had had many additions over the years, making it larger and larger until it almost resembled a small apartment complex. The cruiser parked in a dirt field with several other vehicles, and Hunter did the same. He climbed out and pushed the seat back, holding his hand out to Rosita. She took his hand quick enough, but he nearly had to drag her from the car. Hunter spared a brief moment to pull her in a tight embrace, placing a tender kiss on her forehead.

"I will protect you. I promise."

He felt her shoulders relax slightly, but when her chin tilted up to meet his gaze, he wasn't able to read the tense expression on her face. Shaking a rather ominous feeling, he held her hand again, and the two of them walked towards the ranch, following the werewolf officer who had barely spared them a second glance.

Rosita gripped Hunter's fingers tightly, trying to decide how to play this. It would be so easy to just let Hunter keep his promise to protect her and her family. She had no doubts that he would try, but one weretiger against a whole pack of werewolves, it wasn't a fair fight. She had little to offer in the way of helping him. The shotgun and its silver chain filled shells were both in the backseat, but when she moved to take them with her, Hunter shook his head. It looked like fighting would be a last resort, and he intended to keep her out of it entirely. Rosita didn't like that. She wanted to be part of defending her family, and surprisingly, defending him as well. He promised to save her, but at what cost? Did she expect him to die for her? Could she accept that? Rosita didn't think she could. Hunter had given her something that no other man in her life ever had: honesty. He said what he meant and he meant what he said. He was reliable. It didn't matter that she had known him a total of two days, he was already the best man she'd ever met. She could trust him to protect her, and more, she could trust him not to hurt her. Regardless of whether she would ever see him again after this was all over, she would not allow the world to lose such a man.

The cop left the front door open, so they simply walked right in. The front room seemed to be a lounge area, decorated in light wood paneling deep hunter green paint. Several lanky young men were all draped over worn leather furniture in front of a huge flat screen, watching a soccer game. A few others were playing darts or pool, and one beefy redhead was actually twirling the cord of an old phone in his fingers while chatting, a goofy smile on his lips. Everyone immediately stopped what they were doing and glared at the two interlopers to their den. Hunter met their challenging gazes with a hard, but indirect stare. He didn't directly meet the gazes of the men, but he wouldn't look at the floor either. It seemed pretty obvious, he didn't want to return their challenge, but he wasn't going to back down either. Rosita wasn't as brave, she kept her gaze firmly rooted on a spot on the floor where she could just make out the rest of the room with her peripheral vision. She wasn't going to let her guard down completely, but she couldn't stand to see those feral, glowing eyes.




Riding the Wolf Ch. 03



No one moved until the man who was on the phone broke the silence.

"I'll call you back."

The phone clicked as it sat on the receiver, and that was the signal for the other men to go back to their various distractions. When the redhead stood, he was enormous. Hunter was well muscled and fit, but this guy looked like he spent most of his time lifting weights. Rosita had been surprised when she heard his voice. She'd expected it to be deep, rough, but his voice was soft, almost feminine. It made her pay more attention to his words, and put her at ease, even though she wasn't happy about what he had to say.

"So, this is the girl I'm going to be accepting into my pack, hmm?"

Hunter growled softly. He supposed it was a good thing that the Alpha hadn't simply declared his intentions to kill Rosita, but he didn't want her forced into the tight knit werewolf society, where her blossoming individuality would be absorbed by the pack. It was his experience with werewolves that the close family structure of the pack made all of the wolves very similar to each other. Oh, they had different interests, different ways of handling situations, but on a very basic level, they were all the same. It had to be that way. The wolves were ruled by their Alpha, and any discord among them caused serious rifts. They all eventually came to his way of thinking, and if they disagreed, it was always done with deference to his commands. Some days Hunter felt it would be comforting, to be surrounded by such a supportive and understanding group. But most often he thought it would be stifling. He wasn't sure if Rosita, who had never had a real, close family, with the exception of her grandmother, would want this life. But he was damn sure he was going to make sure it was herchoice if she did.

The Alpha laughed softly as he faced them off, taking in Hunter's defensive posture, and Rosita's determined stance. She looked like she desperately wanted to flee, but was forcing herself to be still. He admired that. The red poncho was just too much, Little Red Riding Hood, come to do battle. He let it go.

"So, the rogue is dead then?"

Hunter was briefly caught off guard by the change in topic. He had to take two deep breaths to clear the growl in his throat before answering.

"Silver knife to the heart. He's in the trunk."

The Alpha's lips stretched into a smile, tiny dimples appearing, making him seem boyish and approachable. Rosita wanted to laugh, and was horrified as her own lips began twitching. This man, who seemed so nice and unassuming, was going to turn her into a monster once a month. Then he was going to assert himself as her Alpha, a master who she would have to obey in all things. The tight knot of nervousness in her stomach was threatening to bubble over into her throat. She fought to keep it down, clamping her jaw tightly, but it didn't work. The nervous laughter tumbled from her lips in short little bursts. The men all stared at her strangely. She just shook her head, unable to verbalize her emotions. When she felt Hunter's hand reach out and take hers, she clasped his fingers tightly and leaned into his shoulder. They would get through this.

The Alpha gestured for them to follow him, and led to another room adjacent to the lounge area. It also had wood panels and comfy looking leather, as well as a huge desk set against a picture window with a view of the woods. The room was painted a pale blue, however, and felt relaxed and welcoming. Without waiting for any instructions, Rosita practically stumbled to a chair and sank gratefully into the seat. She was terrified that her knees wouldn't hold her any longer if they began talking about her becoming a wolf again.

Hunter didn't sit. Instead, he stood protectively over her chair, one arm on the cushion, the other on her shoulder. The Alpha sat behind the desk, his reassuringly boyish smile prompting another smothered giggle from Rosita. He quirked a brow at her before speaking to Hunter.

"So, now that you have killed the rogue, I suppose the only issues left are the human bystanders and the second half of your payment. You do realize that there are penalties involved because of the indiscretion, yes?"

Indiscretion. Rosita wanted to giggle again. She was a bystander and an indiscretion. And here she thought she and Hunter had been very discrete.

"I am willing to forgo the second installment in exchange for full control in handling the oversight."

The Alpha now looked like he was the one who couldn't control an errant giggle.

"Oh really? You think I should just let you take responsibility for the safety of my pack in this matter? I've never met a tiger with such aspirations. Ballsy, man, just ballsy!"

Rosita heard the ripping of leather behind her head. She glanced at her shoulder and saw that Hunter had grown claws. The one on her was simply balled in a fist. She reached up to take his hand and gently stroked it with her thumb. Fighting the Alpha in his den was a bad idea. She had to keep him calm.

"Hunter..."

Her whispered plea seemed to calm him, as did her hand on his. The claws shifted back to fingers, but she noticed his eyes remained slits.

"Interesting."

The Alpha's voice startled her, and she returned her gaze to him.

"How long have you been fucking her, hunter?"

That did it. Rosita didn't even have a moment to blink. Hunter was sailing through the air as he lunged at the Alpha, smashing through the window and onto the grass. His borrowed clothes ripped to shreds as he shifted into a full tiger, not weretiger, and began clawing and ripping at the werewolf. The Alpha had shifted almost as quickly, and was using his claws to try and untangle the ferocious cat. It was obvious that the Alpha wasn't used to fighting a tiger. It was a stroke of genius on Hunter's part. A were tiger wasn't much different from a werewolf, except for the stripes and whiskers. A tiger, however bore almost no resemblance to a wolf in fighting styles. Wolves fought with their teeth, and werewolves fought with teeth and clawed fists. The tiger was a mass of twisting, wiggling fur, the jaws and claws locking onto flesh while the hind quarters tried to slash the unprotected underbelly. At first, Rosita thought it was no contest. Then she noticed something she should have seen before. The werewolf was bigger.

Normal tigers were ten feet long in body and 650 lbs or more. As a man, Hunter was probably closer to 250. He was tall, so it didn't make him overly muscled. The Alpha was probably three inches shorter than Hunter, but he outweighed him by at least 50 lbs. When they shifted, they conserved mass, making the Alpha a burly werewolf and Hunter a very tiny tiger. Hunter was fast, and inflicting serious damage. Every time the werewolf grabbed him, he'd slip away and dash back for another stealthy attack. But his speed wasn't enough. The Alpha caught his tale and gave a vicious yank. Hunter yowled in pain and the werewolf was able to grab him from behind and get the tiger in a lock under the arms and behind his head. Hunter tried to wiggle free, but the Alpha held him to the ground, pinning him tightly. Neither man could move, but that didn't matter much to the Alpha. He wasn't alone. Rosita saw the rest of the pack closing in. She didn't know what they would do to Hunter, but she did know what they planned for her. It was the moment she had been waiting for. Decision time.

Without thinking beyond the desired result, Rosita rushed forward and threw her arms around the Alpha's neck. She wasn't trying to choke him, just get his attention. Trying to fight the monster of a man with her tiny 5'2" 114 lbs would have been pointless.

"Let him go, please! I'll do whatever you want, just stop!"

Both men stilled. The tiger let out a whine. Then his eyes focused on the rest of the pack who had circled the two fighters and some of the fight left his body. She hated to see the look of defeat creep into his gaze.

Hunter knew it was over. If Rosita hadn't thrown herself into the fight, it might have taken him longer, but his futile struggles in the Alpha's grip were draining him. When he saw the twenty odd werewolves that had formed a circle around the fight, there was nothing left to do but submit. He just couldn't, though. He couldn't force his body to relax. The best he was able to do was shift into his weakest form, but his human body remained tense, hands fisted, teeth grit, with slitted pupils that refused to turn round. When the Alpha released him, he slumped to the ground, crouching, ready to spring, but with his eyes focused on the torn up grass beneath his feet. All he could hear was the panting breath of his opponent, until a soft shuffle caught his attention. Rosita's feet crept into his vision. Hunter's hands were so tight he could feel his nails breaking the skin.

"I'm so sorry, Rosita."

She didn't acknowledge his apology. Instead, she dropped to her knees in front of him and wrapped her arms around his tense shoulders. She could feel his anger, it was making him shake. The soft hair tickling his face as she lay her head against him, the sweet smell of homemade soap, it was too much, and he sagged against her. As Hunter relaxed in her arms, his own wrapping around her waist, she realized the extent of his defeat. If this fight had been fair, Hunter might have actually won. It would have been close, but eventually the Alpha wouldn't have been able to keep holding him. Then it would have been a matter of who recovered the fastest. But with the pack in the wings, and Rosita constantly threatened by their presence, he knew they wouldn't have survived if he'd bested the Alpha. The only way the wolf would have given up was with his last breath, and the pack wouldn't have suffered the loss well.

The Alpha changed back into a man and watched as the girl comforted the bounty hunter. He was sure that the girl had saved one of their lives. If the Alpha was honest, he wasn't entirely sure if it was his or the tiger's. The fight had been brutal, and with more time, and fair odds, could have gone either way. He didn't like using his pack to win his battles, he much preferred to shoulder the responsibility on his own. But his Betas knew that the safety of the pack was paramount, and losing to an outsider, and a cat at that, would have been disastrous. He nodded to Jack, the beta who had brought them to the den, assuring the nervous man that he'd done the right thing. Now, if only he could figure out what the right thing was now.

Standing a few feet from the defeated couple, the Alpha decided it was time to get more information, and he knew the bounty hunter would interfere.

"Girl, I think it's time you and I had a little chat. Hunter, if you value her life, you will remain here. I promise you, no harm will come to her. I just want to talk, understand?"

Hunter hugged Rosita tightly before releasing her with a brief nod. She stood, holding her head high as she followed the Alpha inside. Briefly, she looked back at Hunter, who hadn't moved, except to follow her with his blue cats eyes. The Alpha led them into a small library. He sat in one overstuffed chair and motioned for her to do the same. After an excruciating minute of silence, he finally spoke.

"Do you know why we insist on turning or killing any human who discovers us?"

Rosita shook her head, so the Alpha continued.

"Humans, and all sentient beings for that matter, are generally afraid of the unknown. But the benefit of not knowing is that you can't do anything about it. You have to trust that things will work out, because you're powerless against something you don't understand. When humans meet us, we're monsters from that unknown, suddenly come to life. You will spend the rest of your years looking over your shoulder and carrying silver bullets in your pocket. You will make assumptions that are wrong, and dangerous to my pack, if you ever feel threatened again. You will expose us, eventually, because of your fears. Or you'll end up paranoid delusional, imagining that every unknown fear you have had is real. You may think that you can handle it. I know your grandmother saw the rogue wolf also. She is old and nearing the end of her years. We aren't concerned about her revealing us. No one would believe her anyhow, it would likely be seen as a result of her condition. You, however, have many, many years in which to make a mistake. I'm more than willing to sacrifice your life to keep my pack safe. So that leaves you with the choice of joining us, or death. It would be so sad for your grandmother to lose you at such a critical time in her life."

Rosita stared blankly at the Alpha. He'd neatly stripped away any argument she could make, and then left her feeling guilty about her grandmother. At least he hadn't insisted they change her too. Rosita still had one ace up her sleeve, however, and decided this was the time to pull it.

"Sir, may I ask you something?"

The Alpha nodded, so she continued.

"Hunter isn't part of your pack, but he doesn't pose a threat to you, does he?"

The Alpha chuckled. He supposed that depended on how you defined 'threat.' He chose his words carefully.

"He is not a threat to exposing my pack, no. Exposing us would expose him. He's part of our world, just not part of our pack."

Rosita nodded. Time to play her cards.

"I will not join your pack. I will not submit to your authority. I will keep my independence."

The Alpha frowned.

"I don't suffer rogue wolves, they're too dangerous."

Rosita cut him off.

"I have no intentions of becoming a werewolf."

It took a few seconds for the Alpha to respond. He rolled their conversation around in his mind until it clicked. Understanding filled his expression, and he grinned.

"You are a feisty little thing. But just to be sure I understand you, I want you to lay it out for me."

Rosita took a deep breath.

"I want Hunter to change me into a weretiger. I don't want to join your pack."

The Alpha nearly laughed. Hunter? The bounty hunter's name was Hunter?

"I want to be sure of two things before I agree. First, I want to make sure you aren't refusing to join my pack because you have a prejudice against werewolves as a result of the rogue's... attack."

Rosita shook her head. She didn't even pause. He was satisfied that she was telling the truth.

"Second, if Hunter refuses, you must choose the pack or death. I want to know which one it will be, now, before you speak to your man."

Her man. Rosita got tingles at the thought. She hadn't intended to be possessive of him. She figured this would only be a fling anyhow. Their emotions for one another were based greatly on a shared trauma, and weren't likely to last. Still...

"I will join the pack. You are right, I'm not ready to leave my grandmother just yet. I would ask you not to tell Hunter of this decision, though. I don't want it to sway his."

The Alpha clapped his hands and grinned gleefully. 

"Excellent! Now that that is all settled, let's go ask Tiny, shall we!"

Rosita shook her head and followed the Alpha. Hunter was still kneeling in the grass when they returned to the yard. When he saw the look of triumph on the Alpha's face, his whole body seemed to deflate. He'd liked Rosita. He really had. She was special. And now she would become a member of the pack, and her uniqueness would be absorbed into family until she was just a little less of an individual, defined by the association. Worse, she would love it, being part of such a close and loyal family, and never mourn the independent streak she'd lost. Let us not also forget the fact that the Alpha would never let her leave the area, and he would not be suffered to stay with them. He would never see her again, after the next full moon.

Hunter wouldn't meet her gaze as Rosita knelt down beside him. However, he did accept her outstretched hand and rose with her.

"Jack, show them to a guest room. Our new friends have much to discuss." 

They followed the werewolf cop into an addition to the ranch, and Rosita noticed that the additions created a sort of courtyard in the middle, circling the outdoor space. She caught a glimpse of some wooden benches and wild flowers, as well as many young trees. It was a taste of the wild, enclosed in the space.

The guest room was pretty boring. It had white walls and the same light wood paneling as the lounge. A wardrobe, large bed with a plain white duvet, and a flat screen mounted to the wall were all that the room could boast. Hunter went straight to the window and twisted the blinds so he could peer into the courtyard. Jack gave her a thumbs up sign before he closed the door, and the two of them were completely alone.

Rosita had no idea how to start this conversation. Hunter was so tense at the window, she wasn't sure if he'd listen anyhow. Instead of speaking, she simply walked over and wrapped her arms around him, rubbing her cheek against his bare back. He was still naked, and she was suddenly very aware of the heat that rolled off his body. Pushing herself closer to him, she felt his body stiffen. At first she was certain he'd reject her embrace, then positive, as he pulled her hands from his body and turned to face her. He didn't release her wrists as he stared deeply into her eyes. Rosita choked back a sob when she saw the raw emotion in his slitted orbs. She couldn't identify it, and mistook it for anger. When his mouth came crashing down on hers, she responded with equal intensity, relief coursing through to mingle with her desire.

Hunter couldn't stand the tortured look in her eyes. Even though it meant they never would have met, he would have given anything to go back in time and catch the rogue before his attack. Anything to spare her the pain, both from the rape and from losing her life to the pack. The best he could do, however, was to show her how much he had come to care for her, and beg her forgiveness for failing to save her.

While Hunter's lips continued to explore her mouth his hands began slipping under her poncho and tank top, feeling the swell of her breasts, then her pert nipples, hardening in his palms. When his hands pushed the material higher, she obligingly lifted her arms and the whole thing slid from her body. He made quick work of the jeans and panties. Soon she was as naked as he. Pressing his heated flesh against hers, he felt her shiver in anticipation. It was all too much. He couldn't wait.

She squeaked in surprised when Hunter knocked Rosita's knees from under her, lifting her bodily and laying her on the bed. Their first time together he had been achingly gentle. She sensed that this time would be different. It scared her a little, but she still trusted him completely. Her own raging desire was quickly melting away her fears as well. When she felt his body cover hers, she arched into him, moaning when his mouth descended on an aching nipple. His lips and tongue assaulted the tender nub, and when his teeth grazed her skin, Rosita cried out, her hands flying to tangle into his silky blond hair. He kept up the assault on her nipple, pinning her with the weight of his body, his squirming captive. When he smelled the gush of sweet female heat soaking between her legs, he lifted his head. She was panting in relief from the break of his relentless mouth. It was short lived. His lips then closed in on the other nipple. She gasped, fingers fisting tightly in his hair. It had to hurt him, but Hunter didn't seem fazed. His mouth never paused. She felt his tongue suddenly change in texture, becoming rougher. The friction was maddening. The silken feel of his hair changed subtly. Rosita didn't have to open her eyes to know that the weretiger was making love to her now. Finally he released her nipple. Rosita had a mere moment to suck in a breath as his furred body separated from hers. She felt cold, bereft, and a tiny whine slipped from her lips in protest.




Riding the Wolf Ch. 03



Hunter stared at the raven haired beauty sprawled on the bed. Her rich caramel skin was a stark contrast against the bright white comforter. Her glistening slit was swollen, opening her just enough that he could see the smooth pink folds of her labia, and just a hint of her clit, peeking through the hood. She was beautiful, and right now, she was his. When she opened her eyes, the pleading, sultry stare was all he needed. Swiftly he grasped her thighs with his clawed hands and spread her wide, diving between them, his rough, rasping tongue licking her from her tight anus to the tip of her clit in one smooth motion. Rosita's screams of ecstasy rang through the whole ranch. She was gripping the sheets behind her head, her legs squeezing futily against his iron grip. His tongue lapped her juices greedily then settled to tickle her budding clit. It was almost completely exposed from its hood, swollen near to bursting. He felt her body tensing as the first wave of orgasm rolled through her. Her screams took new form as she began calling is name over and over. Purring with possessive pleasure, Hunter thrust his tongue deeply into her shattering tunnel, wiggling his tongue as her juices ran into his mouth. Her screams became incoherent as his tongue stroked a second orgasm from her body. When his tongue relented, she was whimpering in desire, begging him.

"Please, please, please..."

He knew what she wanted. His hands slid to her hips. Positioning his throbbing cock at the entrance to her slit, he pulled her body onto him, thrusting at the same time, seating himself to the hilt with one sharp jab. Rosita screamed again, then began babbling his name, trying to wiggle against his member, but he held her still, his cock twitching inside her molten sheath. He could barely breathe, she was so tight. Last time he'd focused so much on her pleasure, he'd barely had time to really appreciate the feel of her body as it pulsed around him. Now... now he would take her on his terms.

When Hunter pulled his cock slowly from her body, Rosita nearly cried at the feeling of emptiness. It was only for a brief moment, however, as he slammed his cock back inside, his hips grinding hard against hers. He repeated the slow, hard thrusts several times, letting her build again. When he felt her sheath begin to flutter, squeezing him even tighter, he lost his control and started pounding her sweet pussy, his hands holding her hips tightly to the bed.

Rosita was delirious with the pleasure. Her orgasm came hard and fast. His thrusting never slowed as she squeezed him so tightly he thought she might break his rod in half. She rode the sensations as long as his pounding cock kept up its assault and when he finally shot his load into her, she reached for him, her hands scrabbling to pull him tightly to her chest.

The pleasure was overwhelming. Hunter was lost, not thinking straight. His need to possess her fully took control, and he felt his fangs grow, dripping. When she pulled him into an embrace, his cock still spurting deep inside her womb, he closed in, sinking his teeth into her shoulder, the primal roar ripping through his throat.

Hunter tasted her blood, but only for a moment. The weretiger venom coursed into her body, quickly sealing the wound the second his teeth left her skin. The enormity of what he'd done hit him. He still believed she was supposed to be part of the werewolf pack. He'd essentially just stole a wolf from the region's Alpha. He'd robbed her of the family she was supposed to gain and cursed her with his tiger. She hadn't asked him to turn him, and he couldn't believe she would want it. Weretigers were solitary, except when they mated, and even then, tigers didn't always mate for life. He'd made her no promises, and in spite of his possessiveness, he wasn't sure if he was ready to commit to her. He'd been alone for a long time, and enjoyed the solitude. Most tigers split after a decade or so. Even if he was able to pledge his life to her, would she even accept him? The conflicting emotions and desires were too much. Roughly, he rolled off of Rosita's still trembling body and lay still beside her, staring at the ceiling. He searched the random web of popcorn for some meaningful pattern, but for once, his mind could make nothing of it.



Riding the Wolf Ch. 04



Hunter's heart pounded so hard, his ears were ringing. The ringing sang above the roar of his motorcycle as he pushed the bike to its top speed, cruising as far from Pennsylvania as he could on the topped off tank. When the arrow on the gauge dropped to the red E, he'd made it as far as Margaretville, NY, and was looking for a storage unit to stash his bike. He planned to run in the Catskill's for a while, to clear his head. It was a bad habit he'd never gotten over. Once the bike was stashed safely for the next 6 months, he started hiking into the mountains. When he was deep into the forest, he shed his clothes and shifted into the white and black stripped beast, his paws striking the forest floor, the feeling of freedom ripping a roar from his throat.

***

Rosita woke up in the plain guest room, alone and confused. Hunter was gone. He'd never made any declarations to her, no promises of love, but she'd begun falling for him anyhow. He was her first, and her savior, protecting her from the rogue, and then the werewolf pack. She rubbed her sore shoulder, feeling the rapidly healing bite he'd left her. When he'd claimed her in such a primal fashion that night, she was sure he meant to stay with her. She hadn't even had the chance to ask him to turn her into a weretiger, but his passions had taken care of that situation quite nicely. Rosita was both thankful and baffled that he had turned her before leaving. Suddenly she felt hope bloom in her chest. Maybe he just wasn't in the room, maybe he was waiting for her outside?

Rosita rushed to pull her clothes on, peeking out the window, hoping to see him somewhere. The yard was empty. Once she was dressed, she made her way back through the halls and into the front room, where most of the pack was again lounging around. She wondered if these guys ever did anything for a living, besides the cop. The Alpha was reading a book, perched on the edge of an arm chair that was dwarfed by his large frame. He smiled kindly at her, noting the bite mark that was peeking from the boat neck of her poncho, one red tooth mark grazing her neck. He knew that the bounty hunter had left in the night. He hadn't asked him any questions, and Hunter hadn't asked any favors. The Alpha was wasn't happy about it, but he had little control over a weretiger who couldn't be bound to his pack. The girl now posed a problem, and he hadn't decided how to handle it yet.

"Is Hunter around?"

The hope in her voice nearly broke the Alpha's heart. Pack or not, he was now responsible for her, and it angered him that the tiger would so casually discard her. Wolves were loyal, they mated for life. If one of his wolves had treated her like this, he would have beaten the man within an inch of his life. However, it was a special day for the Alpha, and he refused to let this matter ruin it. Taking the girl's shoulders in his hands and squeezing gently, he laid out his intentions.

"Rosita, the bounty hunter left late last night. I'm so sorry. I know he turned you, as agreed, so you have fulfilled you end of the deal. Hunter, however, should have been the one to teach you how to control your new powers. With him gone, I'm afraid you're going to have to spend some time with the pack before I'll be comfortable letting you out in my territory."

The emotions he saw playing across her face ranged from disappointment, sorrow, anger, then finally resignation. He was hoping she wouldn't argue about her temporary pack status. He didn't know how it would work with a weretiger amongst the wolves. Hell, he didn't even know how it was supposed to work with weretigers in the first place. What he did know was that new weres tended to be dangerous, until they learned control. He and his pack could give her the few moons it would take to develop her abilities, then they'd go from there. If she fit in with them, he'd allow her to stay, even if cats and dogs living together made him laugh. More than likely, though, she'd go live her life, and maybe run on the full moon nights with them.

Before she gave him her answer, there was a rapid, Shave and a Haircut, knock on the door. The Alpha's nostrils flared and he felt his excitement jump into his throat. He's here!

Rosita watched as the Alpha wolf rushed to the door and flung it open. A tall, wiry man with shoulder length black hair stood in the entryway. His mouth curved into a sexy smile and he actually winked at the Alpha. The bigger man yanked him through the doorway and crushed him in a fierce hug, his lips sealing against the tall man's mouth in a searing kiss. The two were so passionate, Rosita felt a blush creeping up on her and looked away. She saw the rest of the pack rolling their eyes, but smiling as their Alpha greeted the man who must be his mate. Rosita heard a distinctive giggle, and one of the few female wolves she'd only seen during the fight between Hunter and the Alpha was peering through a doorway, watching the unfolding scene. She and two more girls walked in and began hooting and hollering, applauding wildly, causing the men to grin sheepishly. They did not release each other, though, and turned back to gaze adoringly into one another's eyes. 

One of the men watching TV grabbed the nearest female, a tall brunette with freckles, and dragged her onto his lap. She squeaked, then giggled as he bit her neck lightly. The other two girls, one with a blonde pixie cut and the other a petite Asian with her hair in a neat bun, walked to the two other men, both previously playing darts. They wrapped their hands seductively around the men, tilting their heads up for a kiss. Neither was disappointed. The two wolves that were left without a partner eyed Rosita speculatively, but she narrowed her eyes and shook her head. The men looked so alike they were probably brothers, with identical ash blond hair and green eyes. They pouted, but the blonde girl whispered something into her man's ear and he nodded. He whistled to his brother wolves, and they quickly joined in his petting of the blonde, practically panting in their excitement. Rosita realized that everyone in the room, including herself, was picking up on the Alpha and his mate's sexual arousal, and she was about to witness an orgy. Briefly she wondered where the rest of the pack was, but guessed they couldn't all be there all the time. Someone had to pay for this place.

The Alpha growled as his dark haired mate began nipping at his skin, sliding his hands under the man's shirt to fondle his nipples. The Alpha was impatient, however, and yanked the shirt off, buttons flying. Then he pulled his mate's shirt off, only a little more carefully and began fighting with the man's belt buckle. He took pity on the Alpha, and captured his mouth for another searing kiss, distracting him while he released both of their pants from their belts. The Alpha wasn't wearing shoes, but his mate quickly slid out of his, kicking them into a corner.

Meanwhile, the Asian wolf and her man had wasted no time with their clothing, both standing naked in a puddle of discarded cotton and denim, while eagerly caressing one another. They were ready right away, and he lifted her up and onto his cock, pinning her body against the smooth wall and fucking her slowly. 

The man on the couch with the freckled girl had lifted her up onto the arm of the sofa and was gazing hungrily at her exposed pussy. She licked one finger then set it against her hot clit, rubbing herself in small circles as he watched. When she moaned in pleasure he stood, threw off his clothes, and knelt back down on the couch, between her thighs. She began striping off her shirt just as he spread her legs wider and took one long lick of her pulsing center, and her cries were caught in the fabric of her blouse. His assault on her eager pussy distracted her, her arms over her head, tangled in the shirt, her breasts high and heaving, the light pink nipples bouncing with every breath.

The blonde girl was standing completely still, moaning in ecstasy as three men removed all of her clothing, then their own, and were doing their best to driver her wild. She had her arms around the neck of one brother, who stood behind her, his mouth hungrily devouring her neck and lips, his hands sliding over her buttocks, delving into the crack occasionally to finger her tight star. Another man, the one she had originally gone to, and probably her mate, was toying with her tiny, teacup breasts, sucking the dark, puffy pink nipples into his mouth, first one, then the other, while his hands tickled her ribcage. The other brother knelt at her feet. He had one of her legs thrown over his shoulder while his fingers played with her opening and his tongue flicked her engorged clit. Her eyes were closed, her body still, but the rapid pants coming from her lips, the occasional moans of delight, it was obvious that she was losing the game. They'd have her begging for more soon.

The Alpha's mate broke their kiss and before he could recover, the dark haired wolf knelt down and yanked his man's pants, boxers and all, down to his knees. The Alpha's cock was rock hard, straining to touch the object of its desire. When his mate wrapped his lips around the head of the shaft, the Alpha gave a loud growl that could have passed for a roar, catching the attention of the pack. They all paused to watch a moment as the Alpha's mate slid his lips up and down his meaty cock. The Alpha wrapped his hands in the silky dark tendrils, tenderly stroking the hair from the man's face so he could watch his silken lips as it moved along his shaft. His mate stared up at him through long, dark lashes, his light brown eyes smoky with desire. The Alpha caressed the line of his jaw, noting how smooth it was. His mate had shaved, just for him. Suddenly his balls tightened, almost painfully, with a thought: maybe his face wasn't all he'd shaved?

The others returned to their own pleasures, and the pack master pulled his mate to his feet, suddenly mad to see his man naked. He yanked on his mate's jeans, but he slipped away from him, tsking playfully. His mate unbuttoned his jeans, sliding the zipper leisurely, exposing his bulging underwear. The Alpha licked his suddenly dry lips, watching with eager anticipation. His mate's body was like solid granite, and smooth, nearly hairless. The jeans fell to his ankles and he stepped from them, standing only in the black, silk briefs, his manhood straining against the fabric. He could see no hair on his lover's stomach, and when he didn't remove his underwear, the Alpha tore his gaze upwards to meet his man's sultry stare. Finally, his mate hooked his thumbs into his underwear and lowered them to the ground. 

It took a huge amount of willpower, but the Alpha did not break their stare until the fabric hit the floor. Then, it was just too much. He raked his eyes down the man's body, his tight pecs and rippled abs, finally lighting on his bald cock and balls. The Alpha was the leader, the strongest man in the room, but he trembled, his knees weak at the sight of his mate's body after the three months they'd been apart. 

The short phone conversations had only increased his longing for his lover. He didn't trust himself to move, or else he might fall right over. Sensing his Alpha's needs, his mate sauntered over and pressed himself against the large man, rubbing his silky, shaved body against his pack master's lightly furred skin. He tilted his head down and claimed the Alpha's lips, grinding against him. Although shorter, the Alpha was much stronger. Finding his strength again, he lifted his mate and lowered him to the carpeted floor, covering his body with his own, keeping their lips locked. 

During the heated kiss, the Alpha's mate reached between them and stroked his pack master's cock, cupping his sac and rolling the two orbs together gently. The Alpha shuddered and deepened his kiss as his mate fondled him. Just before he was certain he would explode in the other man's grip, he pulled away and settled himself between his mate's thighs. He licked along the shaved sac and all the way to the tip of his cock, savoring the drop of pre cum that had beaded on the head. Over and over he licked him sensually until his mate was squirming and crying out in pleasure, his hands massaging the red head between his legs. When his Alpha spread his ass cheeks apart and began to lick the tight star of his ass, he shuddered, and began to stroke his cock at the same time. The Alpha alternated between licking the smooth ball sac and stimulating his lover's anus and perineum, until his own cock was cooled just enough to keep him from exploding.

The Alpha spit on his mate's tight hole and rubbed his cock tenderly around the opening, spreading his pre-cum and gently massaging the hole open. When he slid inside with a soft pop, they both moaned in pleasure.

Rosita watched the pack orgy with fascination. No one seemed to mind her presence at all, and once she made it clear she would not be participating, they mostly ignored her. She couldn't bring herself to leave, and as she watched, her arousal grew. She could feel her panties growing moist and finally gave in to her temptation. Sitting in a large arm chair, she loosened her jeans and slid her hand into her pants, rubbing her excited clit as her eyes flit from one group of lovers to the next.

The blonde had finally broken, begging her lovers to take her.

"Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me now, in my ass and pussy! I need you to fill me up, please!"

The men quickly obliged. Her mate lay down on the carpet and pulled her on top of his eager cock. The brother who looked as if he might be the elder of the two snatched a bottle of olive oil from the bar and dribbled it on the pixie haired girl's ass and on his cock before sliding it into her already puckered hole. The younger brother knelt down so that the girls mate was licking his ball sac while the blond began eagerly sucking his stiff cock. The four of them quickly established a rhythm and were fucking each other madly.

The man with the brunette was still licking her pussy. When she came, gushing into his mouth, he fell back onto the couch and pulled her down on top of him, letting her grind and ride his cock. She was holding the back of the couch and one long leg was on the ground, giving her enough purchase to slide her hot sheath up and down the whole length of his shaft, even withdrawing all the way, teasing him mercilessly.

The grunting and moaning of the wolf pack was reaching a fevered peak, and Rosita's fingers were rubbing madly against her mons. She'd never witnessed anything more erotic in her life. 

The Alpha and his mate were gently grinding against one another, the Alpha sliding in and out of his lover's tight ass while one hand rolled his balls and the other stroked his cock. His mate had closed his eyes, his face contorted in ecstasy, his hands gripping his Alpha's thighs, his legs wrapped around his buttocks. When the Alpha's mate finally stiffened, his cock bursting into the other man's hands, his tight ass shuddering around his cock, the Alpha lost his tight rein on his control and slammed his hips into his lover's body until his triumphant howl ringing through the room. This set off the other wolves. 

The Asian wolf and her mate came together, his legs braced wide as she shuddered around his body, and he sagged against the wall after shooting his load, his face buried in her neck as they howled in release. Her neat bun was now crooked, with tendrils of sweat dampened hair draped across her face.

The freckled girl's whole body went rigged, leaning back so far she was almost laying on her mate's legs when her orgasm came. He touched her clit and sent her into a second blissful spiral before exploding into her soft body, his growl of satisfaction mingling with her howl of pleasure.

The blonde and her men were still going at it. She'd already soaked the men in her juices, gushing cum several times. She was whimpering, her cock muffled moans pleading with them to finish, drunk with the pleasure of three cocks filling her. The youngest brother came first, his seed surging into her mouth, the combination of her hot lips on his shaft and her mate's searing tongue on his balls proving too much. He sat back on his heels, gasping for breath. The girl, her mouth now free, began to beg.

"More! More! Fuck me! Harder, harder, oooh, ooooooh, aaaaaah-oooooooooooooooh!"

Her pussy and ass squeezed the men so hard they thought they might break. As her orgasm tapered down, both men howled together and filled her holes with their hot cum.

Rosita felt her own release build and her fingers quickened inside her pants. She rushed, afraid to get caught masturbating to their group sex. When she came, she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning and calling attention to her wanton behavior. Not that anyone would have cared, but she just wasn't used to pack society, still clinging to her human sense of modesty.

Everyone was quiet for a few minutes, cuddling and regaining their breath. Then, slowly, they gathered their clothing and seemed to return to whatever they had been doing before. The only exception was the Alpha and his mate. The pack master had pulled his mate into his lap and the two simply stared at and stroked one another, as if they were the only ones in the room. 

Rosita inconspicuously buttoned up her pants and hoped that she had remained unobserved. She wasn't sure what to do now. Hunter was gone, she wasn't going to stay with the pack, and she needed to check on her grandmother. Should she just walk out the door? It was a long walk down the mountain and back to the town. She wished she had her bicycle. Keeping her eyes surreptitiously on the wall, she stood before the Alpha and cleared her throat. Loudly. He didn't notice. His mate, however, looked her up and down curiously.

"You don't smell like a wolf..."

The Alpha didn't take his gaze off his man for a minute.

"She isn't"

The dark haired man laughed.

"So why is she here?" The Alpha's lips twitched in irritation. "She's a weretiger. She'll be staying with us through her first change, then she can stay or go as she wishes." Rosita narrowed her eyes. He didn't expect her to stay here the whole time, did he? The Alpha's mate laughed quietly at her dark face. "Aaren, I think you made her angry."

The Alpha, Aaren, growled softly.

"She's here under my protection. If she doesn't like that, too bad."

Rosita rolled her eyes and continued looking at the wall. It was actually rather hilarious, her refusal to look at them, considering she'd touched herself while watching them fuck. Neither commented on this, however. Rosita still had hopes that no one had noticed her.

"Aaren, have you told her anything about what's expected of her here?"

"No, Donovan, we haven't gotten that far yet."

"And don't you think this would be important....?"

Alpha Aaren growled and finally looked at Rosita. He noticed immediately that she was extremely agitated. There was panic creeping up on her face as she contemplated her unknown life for the next month. He knew she would want to be with her grandmother, had counted on it, in fact, when he'd coerced her into turning into a were. Now, however, she had been abandoned by the bounty hunter and knew nothing of the pack or what they did here. Plus, after witnessing the orgy that had ensued when Donovan had finally come home, she might have some rather unsettling assumptions about what would be expected of her. Aaren, however, did not want to spend any more time than necessary taking care of this wayward tiger. He called over to Jacob, the eldest of the ash haired brothers, and one of his lower ranked Betas, to handle the situation.

"Jacob, explain to Rosita how the pack works and what's expected of her."

Rosita watched Jacob warily. He'd eyed her rather lustily before, but now his smile was warm and welcoming. The pack leader and his mate returned to one another and ignored her.




Riding the Wolf Ch. 04



"So, rules are simple."

Rosita snorted and Jacob laughed in response.

"No, really, they are, I promise. First, you'll get Alpha Aaren's cell number, put it in your phone. No matter what, you answer, and always obey his commands. He doesn't give very many, though. Second, you'll get a room in the house, but you don't have to stay here, except on full moon week. The three days before and after the full moon you need to be here, with the pack, preparing for the hunt, keeping the grounds and house up kept, and making yourself known to the other pack members. Most of the time we just spend our time relaxing and catching up on each other's lives. The third rule is the hardest: don't let any humans find out about you or us. I know your grandmother already knows about us, but the Alpha has granted her a pardon because of her condition. Just make sure she doesn't go nuts when you explain you're now a were, and we'll be good to go. There are several old cars and motorcycles that are available if you want to borrow one to go back to town. They're all registered to Aaren Moon Inc. You'll be listed as an employee, so you can drive it. They belong to the ranch. Any questions?"

Rosita was quiet for a moment, trying to absorb it all in. She could leave, at least until the week of the full moon. They weren't going to keep her prisoner and she wasn't required to participate in regular group sex. Okay, she could handle this.

"Where's the garage?"

Jacob showed her to a large barn that doubled as a garage. She found a small dirt bike and helmet and wasted no time flying down the side of the mountain, ignoring some of the roads in her hurry to reach the hospital and check on her grandmother. She parked the bike in the first spot she found and sprinted inside, the helmet tucked under her arm. The nurse at the reception desk recognized her and smiled.

"She's in room 216, I'll sign you in."

Rosita nodded her thanks and took the stairs to the second floor, two at a time. When she walked in the room, she saw the familiar sight of her grandmother seated in the comfortable recliner, hooked up to an IV drip, her hands in cold mittens and her feet in wine coolers. The relief in her grandmother's eyes was immediate, but it was clouded by secret dread. Rosita gulped. Somehow, her grandmother knew. Rosita pulled a chair next to her grandmother and lay her head on her shoulder, sobbing softly.

"Abuela..."

Her grandmother took one chilled hand from the mitten and stroked her granddaughter's head.

"Just tell me. I can handle it, nieta."

The hand on her head was comforting. With tears spilling down her cheeks, Rosita unloaded her woes on her dying grandmother.

"Marshall Jones was really a bounty hunter and a weretiger. He killed the werewolf who attacked us. The werewolf was actually mother's boyfriend, Raul. But the werewolf pack who hired him was angry because humans now knew about them, and they said I had to turn or die. I told them I wouldn't become a werewolf, I wouldn't join their pack, but I would let Hunter, Marshall Jones, change me. So he made love to me, and then bit me, and when I woke up in the morning he was gone! Now I have to go through my first change with the werewolf pack, and be under their rule until I can manage my powers on my own. They promised to leave you alone, though, so long as you don't tell. Please, Abuela, I'm so scared, please don't say anything to anyone!"

Rosita's grandmother heaved a heavy sigh. Her granddaughter had been turned into a monster. Was it better that she wasn't dead? At least that would keep her safer from the other monsters. Thank God for small favors.

"It's alright, nieta. It's alright."

Rosita sat there, sobbing into the arm of the recliner. It smelled like medicine and cheap lotion. She'd never noticed the odor before. Her new powers must have heightened her senses already. When she finally cried herself out, she found the courage to ask her grandmother what had happened to her.

"The cancer has stopped its remission. They have increased the dosage of chemo in the hopes that it will return to shrinking. We do not want to change the surgery date, but it might happen if the lump does not shrink a few more millimeters."

Rosita's voice cracked as she thought of the last few days.

"Could... could stress have caused...?"

Abuela would not meet Rosita's eyes, but she nodded once to confirm her fears. Raoul had taken so much more away from them than the invasion of their bodies. They held one another for a time, and her grandmother quietly began to pray, for them both. Rosita couldn't bring herself to ask God for anything, much too worried that her new powers would be seen as an affront. The soothing and familiar sound of her grandmother's prayers soon lulled her into a contented doze, her sleep, thankfully, dreamless and restful.



Riding the Wolf Ch. 05



Rosita spent the next few weeks learning about the pack and keeping a close eye on her grandmother. She was glad that the pack was very lenient. Turns out, if it had been almost any other werewolf family she would not have been able to stay with Abuela so often. Her grandmother was getting better, but it was slow going, and there was still the chance that her surgery would have to be postponed. If it was, there was no telling whether Abuela would be willing to keep up the chemotherapy.

When she wasn't with Abuela or at work, Rosita was most often at the pack ranch. She just couldn't bring herself to comfort her mother while she mourned Raoul's sudden disappearance. The man had been a monster, in more ways than one. Rosita had already heard about the bar gang bang through the grapevine. She's screamed at her mother to press charges. No one could claim it was consensual considering how drunk she'd been. However, Gina wouldn't hear of it. It was too embarrassing, she said. Rosita knew it was useless to argue. At least one of the men, if you could call him that, had been punished.

Rosita discovered that the ranch was a good place for privacy. Very few of the pack members were ever there at the same time. People just wandered in and out depending on their schedules, living their lives normally. There were a few exceptions, the most notable one being Jimmy.

Jimmy was the resident werewolf mechanic, handyman, and expert on werewolf culture. His knowledge didn't come from the thick volumes in the ranch library, but from firsthand experience. At first Rosita gave Jimmy a wide berth. One of the other girls had cozied up to her in an effort to prove how nice wolves could be. In the long, boring, one sided dialogue of how everyone here was so nice the girl revealed that Jimmy was once a rogue.

"Most rogues are the reason werewolves have bad reputations in classic history, but they're not all bad! Our Jimmy used to be a rogue, but he never hurt anyone! He just didn't like his pack master, or the ones he met after he left. Lone wolves are rare, but they do exist! Most, like Jimmy, claim a pack, but don't stick around. Our pack seems to have the most loners. Not sure why, 'cause our pack is the best!"

Rosita listened to the girl, the perky blond whose name was Jenny, but didn't really open up. She still distrusted the whole pack system. It reminded her of a large and very controlling family. Everyone was always in her business, asking questions about her mother, work, Abuela, even what she'd eaten that day. They seemed genuinely interested, but it was still too intrusive for Rosita. She got rather angry when she realized that a few of the wolves were following her when she was out and about in town.

One day, when she was trying to escape the curiosity of the pack by staying on the ranch, the only place no one seemed to care what you did, she found herself wandering into the garage. She liked the collection of old and new vehicles that were made available to the pack. Some were true classics, as old as the 50's, others were as new as the previous year. Alpha Aaren liked cars, and would buy the floor models when they became outdated. The man loved a good deal.

Rosita was admiring a '68 Shelby GT 500KR with a white leather top. It was in mint condition, with what looked like original parts. She had already looked twice for the keys to this baby, but so far she hadn't found them.

"That's Aaren's mate's car, you won't find the keys anywhere."

Rosita whirled around to face Jimmy's somber face. Besides being a former rogue, the man never seemed to smile, and Rosita felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. Sensing her unease, Jimmy averted his eyes and walked with one muscular shoulder facing her until he was on the opposite side of the car. He was doing his best to seem unthreatening, but she didn't care. The low rumble of a growl in her throat just refused to back down.

"Ford only made 21 with a white convertible top."

Rosita blinked. She wasn't sure if he was trying to start a conversation or if he always threw out random facts to strangers. It did explain why she couldn't find the keys, though. Besides belonging to Donovan it was obviously a collectable and worth a lot of money.

"Aaren and Donovan like cars, but they collect a lot of other things too. Most of what you see in the ranch belongs to them. Except in the bedrooms, of course."

Rosita snorted. She'd noticed there were a lot of odd knickknacks in the house. Mixed with the abundance of leather furniture and the country cottage style décor, it was an interesting, if eclectic combination.

"Yes, Aaren Moon Inc. seems to be doing pretty well for itself."

Jimmy finally made eye contact. His stunning green eyes were very unnerving. He caught her gaze and she felt instantly connected to him, unable to look away or move as he slowly closed the distance between them.

"Oh yes, the pack has become quite wealthy. One of the most wealthy on the east coast, and that's saying a lot. But I get the feeling you're not happy about that for some reason?"

Rosita was in her last few weeks of high school. Her grades were excellent, and in spite of the stress of the last week, she was certain to pass. A few of her teachers noticed that things weren't right with her, and when she explained her grandmother's condition, they quickly made exceptions for the previously exceptional student. All Rosita really needed to do now was show up and not flunk her finals and she'd graduate with a 3.8 or better. If she could ace the finals, a 4.0 was in her future.

Because of Gina's dubious work history, Rosita had been working for a local coffee shop for three years now. She used the money to supplement her mother's unreliable paychecks and to save money for a car to use when she went to college. If she went. After going back to work and getting her under the table wages Rosita was approached by Jacob, the beta wolf who had explained the rules before. Apparently he'd forgotten a few, not that she was surprised. All wolves donated 10% to the pack. She wasn't a wolf, but for the time being, she was pack, and expected to do the same.

"I was told the pack helped one another, but I find out they only do it for 10%. When they told me the pack was a family, I didn't realize it was the mob kind of family."

Jimmy started coughing to cover up a violent fit of laughter. Rosita didn't think it was funny at all.

"I don't plan on staying here, I don't want to invest in this place! I need that money for college, and Aaren has no right to take it!"

Jimmy held out one hand while he tried to get control of himself.

"The mob... Aaren would love that... Sweetheart, you don't understand..."

"Don't call me sweetheart."

"Ok. My apologies. Rosita, the truth is, most packs take 100% and then require that you get the Alpha's permission for every dollar spent thereafter. This is one of the most lenient packs in the country. Aaren only asks for the 10% to cover the cost of the ranch, and would probably give you a pass if you asked. Some of our members willingly give far more than 10%. Aaren Moon Inc. is a tax shelter for most of them, honestly. They give loans and grants to members with less income and invest heavily in Aaren's stock. The whole operation probably earns $2 million a year, and is available to any of the 30 odd pack members if they really need it. Aaren is the only pack master I've met who doesn't use money to manipulate and indenture his wolves."

Rosita was curious, in spite of her misgivings of this man.

"And how do you know so much about other packs? From when you were a rogue?"

Jimmy ignored her hard look.

"Yes. I left my first pack when the Alpha demanded that I take a mate. I had no intentions of breeding little werewolves, and even if she used protection, there wasn't a bitch there that I was interested in spending more than a night with."

Rosita bristled at his use of language until she realized he probably meant bitch as in the literal female dog. Wolf sociology was still beyond her.

"What, you're such a stud, he wanted you to reproduce?"

"No, but one of his nieces had taken a liking to me. I always told her 'no' during the Moon Festivals, and saying 'no' to a bitch in heat is not an easy thing."

Rosita pondered his wording for a minute, but couldn't help herself. It was something she'd thought about when the pack had started its orgy.

"Do... do werewolves go into heat?"

"Uh... yeah. It's a little scary, too."

Rosita thought about the bitch dog one of mother's boyfriends had. She'd bled all over the apartment and then started humping everything in sight. Rosita had commented on how this was a perfect example of why to get a pet spayed. He'd shrugged and enlightened her that it only happened once every 4-6 months.

"So, does that mean I'll go into heat twice a year?"

Rosita kind of liked that idea. Much better than a monthly period.

"Maybe... but probably not."

"What do you mean, 'maybe?'"

"Well, our women still ovulate once a moon. In fact, all of our girls go into heat during the Moon Festival. It's the reason the Alpha requires the whole pack to be here. Female werewolves in heat need to choose mates beforehand otherwise things can get a little crazy when their urges hit. Males get into fights over the females and the females fight off the winners 'cause they won't let a macho asshole dominate them.  It doesn't happen often, but werewolves have a higher rate of death around females in heat."

"What about females who don't want to breed?"

This was an important question. Rosita wasn't about to be forced into breeding wolf-kittens.

"That's another important factor. Werewolves can't really use condoms and hormones are less effective. Since we don't get STDs or TSS, most of the girls slip in a sponge for the week of the Moon Festival. Bitches intent on breeding need to make their intentions known to the pack by the beginning of the festival so no one is caught unawares."

"But what if the girl doesn't want to have sex at all?"

Rosita watched Jimmy carefully. His thin lips pressed hard together, and she could see the light stubble on his face bristle as he clenched his jaw in preparation. It had to be bad news.

"Well... there isn't any rule that says you have to, but honestly, when a werewolf goes into heat, it's almost impossible to deny."

Rosita rolled her eyes and crossed her arms across her knit poncho.

"So when it's my turn I'll become a lust crazed tigress, is that what you're saying?"

Jimmy licked his lips in a rather disconcerting way, and she knew he was suppressing a smile. He took several deep breaths before answering.

"We've tried before, to honor a female's wishes to simply remain abstinent. We found that it could be done if she locks herself in the basement for the duration of estrus. She can't just get away from male werewolves, though, 'cause many humans respond to the pheromones and once she's producing them, few have the will to 'just say no.'"

Rosita snorted derisively. 

"I did see a dike fend off all males once, but she nearly raped one of the other bitches. Her self control slipped, and afterwards she always spent the moons with one of her male friends. She hated it, but it was better than the alternative."

"So what happens if I don't want to participate in the Moon Festival?"

Jimmy shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. It was hard to tell how old he was, most werewolves aged slowly. Beside that, he had rugged, boyish features that made him look younger than he probably was. His reddish brown hair wasn't styled, unless you counted the thick locks that kept falling across his deep green eyes. His clothes weren't much help either. The understated dark tee shirt, jeans and trainers were the standard uniform for males 8 to 40. His anxiety made him seem quite young, and she almost felt bad for him.

"Aaren won't make you participate in the sex, but since it's your first change, you're going to need someone to guide the shift and help you deal with the experience. You need to realize that the person who helps you, you are going to be attracted to him."

"So let a girl help me."

Jimmy chuckled.

"The girls in our pack, they've all got partners, either as mates or as Festival friends."

Festival friends. Rosita almost choked on her laughter. Jimmy winked and continued.

"They will be dealing with their own urges. The males who don't have partners will be agitated as well, but not as badly as the females. And once the mating is over, the girls will all be knotted to their men for a while, so they can't be much help."

Rosita still didn't understand.

"What do you mean, knotted? Is this some weird werewolf ritual where you guys tie each other up?"

Rosita watched Jimmy's green eyes darken. Obviously the idea of tying her up interested him. He cleared his throat before answering.

"Not quite. Do you know what happens when dogs mate?"

Rosita shook her head.

"Well, basically, the base of the male penis swells into a 'knot' and gets stuck in the female. It's painful to remove, so werewolves don't, usually, after mating."

Rosita thought about this a minute, and the confused frown on her face reminded Jimmy about her unsavory first experience with werewolves.

"It only happens in response to female werewolf hormones. Otherwise we're just like humans."

Rosita nodded, then stared uncomfortably at her feet. She didn't like that he was able to figure out her train of thought so easily. None of the werewolves actually asked her about her rape, but the subject was a sticking spot, since they all wanted her to get over it and be part of the pack. Fucking one of the pack members would be a sure way to show she was over her fears, but honestly, she didn't care. She was still afraid, and she had no intentions of knotting with a stranger.

Rosita hadn't noticed that Jimmy was slowly closing the distance between them. When he spoke again, she nearly jumped. He was only a few feet away, and the car was no longer between them.

"Hey, I'm not pairing with anyone this year, and I've had more opportunity for developing self control than the others. I'll walk you through the change at the Moon Festival, and I promise, no matter how much you beg me, I won't have sex with you."

The easygoing smile and casual stance he'd assumed were obviously calculated to earn her trust. Rosita really wanted to trust someone. It was too soon though.

"I'll think about it."

"Okay, then."

And then he was gone. He just turned around and walked out, leaving her with her thoughts and the garage full of cars. Rosita knew she needed more advice about this, but honestly, she didn't know where to go. Her grandmother was ill, and didn't need the added stress. Besides, Rosita knew full well what Abuela's views on premarital sex were. She was a Catholic, and sex for anything besides pro-creation was simply forbidden. It was one of the reasons Rosita still felt shame over her rape.

She'd easily accepted that there wasn't anything she could have done to stop it. It wasn't her fault. She hadn't dressed provocatively or suggested anything other than disinterest in her mother's boyfriend. Raoul had been a monster, plain and simple. He could have killed her and Abuela easily. Fighting back wouldn't have helped at all, and instead she might have come out with bites and bruises like her grandmother did.

Rosita had easily understood that she was the victim. However, her reaction to the wolf, that she could not forgive.

Rosita still found herself aroused at the memories of the rape. The arousal was at war with her disgust, anger and fear, but it was there, none the less. Thankfully, instead of reliving it, her mind easily transitioned into the loving experience with Hunter. That had, after all, been her intentions for inviting him to lay with her. Now that he left, however, it brought heartache along with the pleasure.

Rosita slumped down onto the concrete and leaned against the Shelby's fender. She spent a few moments trying to hold back the flood of tears, but it was useless. Quietly, she sobbed, arms folded on her knees. She lost track of time and might have even fallen asleep. She started when the sound of boots rang through the garage.

Jumping to her feet, Rosita wiped her face and nose quickly, but not quick enough. Donovan, keys in hand, was staring at her with a pitying expression. Rosita didn't want to be pitied. She wanted them to see her as strong, independent, and free. Maybe then they'd leave her alone.

She stomped out of the garage and then back into the ranch. No one was in the main living area, so she plopped on the couch and grabbed a book someone had left on the table. It took her reading the cover twice to realize it was in French. She couldn't read French. Angrily she threw the book across the room, the spine making a satisfying thud against the wall.

"Not a fan of Alexandre Dumas?"

Rosita simmered and didn't look at the Alpha. Aaren ignored her bad-manners and sat on the sofa next to her. Rosita put a tight rein on her urge to growl at the pack master, and for once, succeeded.

"I heard from Jimmy that Jacob didn't do a very good job explaining pack life to you."

Rosita didn't respond, didn't move a muscle. She refused to even look at Aaren. He sighed deeply.

"Jimmy tells me he's offered to assist you with your first change. I know you have a prejudice against rogues, and perhaps still towards all werewolves, but I think you'd be wise to consider accepting him."

Her anger was starting to simmer down into helplessness. She was afraid she was going to cry again. This wasn't how the world was supposed to work. You were supposed to be able to make your own choices in life, not have miserable options all laid out for you, and you could choose the least offensive one. Rosita closed her eyes, mindful of the tears leaking out of the corners, but not wanting to draw attention to them by wiping her face.

"It's going to be okay, Rosita. It's not as bad as all that. Please don't cry."

So much for not drawing attention. Aaren sounded almost as helpless as she felt. It was obvious that the man wasn't used to dealing with crying females. Rosita took several deep breaths before she posed her fears directly.

"Aaren, I'm not going to be some bitch to breed, and I'm not going to whore myself out because of some primal mating urge. I'm not going to participate in the Moon Festival."

Rosita's challenging stare met little resistance in Aaren's gaze. It surprised her. He even had the hint of a smile on his lips.

"Is that all you're worried about? No one here would rape you, Rosita, I'd rip their lungs out. I promised to keep you safe until you know how to control yourself. I will do that, I promise. And besides, you're a weretigress, things may be different with you."

"So if you're not going to let anyone else rape me, then why do I need an escort to the Moon Festival?"

Aaren shifted uncomfortably before replying.

"Changing in a basement or locked room would be very, very dangerous. Your tiger needs to run, to hunt, to experience the moon. She will hurt herself if she can't. You don't really realize how the animal inside you works yet. You don't just change form, you change minds, in a way. It is still you, but you are freed from the usual human inhibitions and social rules. Good people are still good wolves, but good wolves are still rather... hedonistic. We don't think much past the moment. It takes years to bring the animal and human perspectives into balance. So the first change needs to be as free as possible, so you can know just what you're dealing with. And it needs to be guided by someone who will know if your wolf is doing something your human will regret later."

"You mean like fucking a complete stranger?"




Riding the Wolf Ch. 05



Aaren coughed.

"Yeah. Like that. Which is why we usually pair up, because few wolves can control themselves, and it's better to have had sex with a friend than to have had sex with someone you loath. Trust me. I've been there..."

Aaren's expression suddenly closed up. Rosita realized at that moment that Aaren hadn't been Alpha for his whole life. He'd likely lived under the control of a pack master himself, and for someone who wasn't normally attracted to women, the mating urge must have really messed with his head.

They sat in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Rosita came to a decision.

"If you truly believe that Jimmy is trustworthy, then I'll accept him as my guide for the Moon Festival."

Alpha Aaren shook himself out of his musings and patted her on the back.

"Good! It's settled then!"

Aaren couldn't seem to leave the room fast enough. Now that it was a done deal, he was ready to wash his hands of the whole situation and hand the responsibility over to Jimmy. It seemed like a strange way to lead, but if delegating responsibility to others worked, who was she to judge?





The week leading up to the Moon Festival was both exhilarating and frightening for Rosita. Her professors all let her take the final early so that she could care for her grandmother afterwards. Even though she was incredibly nervous and distracted, she managed to get a B or better on all of her tests. Hopefully she set the curve, and they would all be counted as 100%. 

In addition to the stress of the tests and her grandmother's condition, she noticed immediately that her senses were becoming heightened. Everything looked, smelled, tasted and felt delicious. Sounds of the city became jarring and annoying. Spending time in the chemo room with Abuela was torture, but she did it anyhow. The acrid smell of medicine, decay and death was overwhelming. 

The day before the Moon Festival Abuela was scheduled for surgery. The long awaited day seemed to drag on and on as Rosita sat in the waiting room, her hands clenched around a cold cup of coffee. The doctor had told her it would take approximately six hours to prep and finish the surgery. So far, Rosita had been sitting there for seven. Every tick of the clock made her more and more certain that something was going terribly wrong.

When the doctor finally came out of the ward, wearing new scrubs and a fresh coat, she knew. He didn't even say anything. She could smell it. She could actually smell her Abuela's blood, clinging to his skin, his hair, his shoes. She could smell the death.





When Rosita opened her eyes she was in some abandoned building. She didn't remember how she got here. She had a vague sense of running, barreling through the hospital and straight out the door, then onto the streets, her lungs screaming for air as the tears were carried off by the wind. It was past noon, and the day of the Moon Festival.

Honestly, Rosita didn't care. She closed her eyes again and began to sob, letting the hurt and loneliness pour from her. She wished she were dead. She should have let the werewolves kill her. Now she was cursed with this monster who would be ripping out of her in a matter of hours, and Abuela was gone. She fell asleep again, the cold of the bare, rubble strewn floor not even factoring in her exhaustion.





When Rosita awoke the second time, she was even more confused than before. Her thoughts didn't feel right. The world was a barrage of smells and sounds, and foremost was the smell of men and the sound of laughter. Her eyes focused on the group of young men who were lounging against the wall of the room she was in. They were all dressed in jeans and varying shades of blue shirts and caps. A few even had on blue sneakers.

They smelled delicious. Rosita could feel herself salivating as she took in the firm, well toned bodies of the four young black men. They were whispering to each other, but she could hear them as clearly as if they were shouting.

"Chick's prob'ly some crack whore."

"Yeah, maybe we help her out, ya know?"

"Like charity, right? Help the poor girl her get her fix."

"Did you notice the tits on that there? Mmm!"

Rosita knew they were sizing her up like a piece of meat. She didn't much care, since they were just what she wanted to order right now herself. Her body was hot. Burning hot. And the heat centered on the apex between her legs. Her pussy was throbbing. She could feel it swollen against her tight jeans. It was almost painful. Pulling herself up on her feet, she began to strip off her stifling, constrictive clothes.

The men stopped talking right away to stare. They watched as she peeled her red knit poncho, tee shirt and bra off all together, her breasts bouncing in her hurry. Her leggings and underwear followed after a brief struggle with her shoes. She'd forgotten to take them off.

They smelled so good, so masculine. Her body remembered Hunter, his hands and caress, and knew that these men could do the same. She wanted to feel filled again, slick, warm bodies caressing her skin. Except for her grandmother, no one else had ever made her feel loved, not even her mother. Except when Hunter made love to her. She ached for that almost as much as her swollen pussy ached to feel a cock.

Her time with him, it had been liberating. Even her rape had brought her pleasure. She was no longer ashamed, though. Why should she ever be ashamed of something her body needed? Was she ashamed that she ate meat to satisfy her needs for protein and amino acids? No! Why should she be ashamed that sex satisfied her body's need for pleasure? The rape had taken her control over her pleasure, but that was his fault, not hers. Now that she was powerful, no one would ever take that control from her again.

The men jostled each other, winking and smiling as she practically stalked them. The tallest, and probably oldest, stepped forward to meet her.

"So... you looking to party, baby?"

Rosita tried to speak, but all that came out was a low growl that could almost pass for a purr. The young man laughed nervously, but kept his cool, winking and stroking her bare arm.

"Well, I think me an my boys can help you out. Right boys?"

They were all quick to agree. Rosita's gaze fell on the arm of the man touching her. She unconsciously leaned into his touch, the sensation of skin on skin blazing a trail of fire across her flesh. The men saw her eagerness and responded. Each one unzipped his pants, surrounding her with their thickening, meaty cocks.

Rosita's knees felt weak. There was a part of her that was screaming that this was wrong, but at the moment, all she could think of was that if one man touching her was bliss, four would be heaven. She dropped to her knees and slid the first mans cock into her warm mouth.

He tasted like he smelled, a heady combination of man and spicy cologne. Rosita took the other cocks in hand, stroking the velvety soft skin. Every time one of the men would reach down to caress a breast or stroke her backside, she moaned in pleasure.

"That's right, baby, suck that cock."

Rosita felt one of the men kneel down and start licking her tits. She spread her legs wide and he quickly thrust his fingers into her moist lips.

"Yeah, you want me to finger that pussy, don't you? Just wait 'til you get some cock in there! Damn girl, you're fuckin' tight! Bitch is swollen and sopping wet!"

Rosita was grinding into the man's hand, her cunt squeezing his fingers tightly. She wanted more. Her eyes were closed, but she was beginning to see colorful flashes as her body spiraled higher and higher. She switched to suck the cock in her other hand, rubbing the now slickened first member furiously while arching her tits into the mouth of the man beside her. Soft mewls and moans were escaping from her stuffed lips.

"Damn, time to do this slut."

The man who was sucking her tits lay on the ground and pulled her on top of him. Eagerly she ground her swollen pussy against his groin, seeking his hard length. She didn't stop rubbing and sucking the other three as the man's cock slammed deep inside of her, straight to the hilt. She rode him fiercely, rocking and raising her hips, grinding down on his thick black cock. The man could do little more than hold her legs as he fought to keep from cumming instantly.  He was a well endowed man and somehow Rosita was taking his whole length. 

"That's right, bitch, fuck that cock!"

"Bro, I'm getting me some of that Latina ass."

The man in her mouth disappeared. Quickly she pulled one of the other cocks forward to suck on. She still had her eyes closed and didn't even know who was where. Not that it mattered, these were strangers anyway. As long as she got what she needed, she didn't care.

She felt someone behind her, pushing her down while rubbing a moistened thumb around her puckered ass hole. She growled menacingly, eyes flying open. Instead of the usual dark brown, Rosita's eyes glowed amber. The man whose cock was in her mouth even tried to pull away, but she held him firm.

"Easy there, little mama, I'm just gonna give you a dick in your ass. Trust me, you'll like it. Now bend over, that's it."

Rosita bent her body until her ass was tilted towards him. The other two men were quick to kneel down and thrust their cocks in easy reach. She eagerly sucked each one, alternating while the man behind her played with her ass. It felt nice, but both her human and tiger instincts were fighting against it, if for different reasons. The tigress in her wanted to mate, and a cock in her ass did nothing for mating.

Every time the man tried to stick his slick, hard cock into her ass hole she'd shift her position so that it slid against the cock of the man in her pussy. He slapped her ass in frustration, but Rosita wouldn't relent.

"Fine, baby, if that's what you want. Gabe, seems your cock isn't enough, she wants two in that little hole!"

The men all laughed as their leader forced his cock into her pussy, stuffing it now with two thick shafts. Rosita let out a roar of pleasure as the two men stretched her wide.

Everyone stopped when the roar was answered by another. Rosita took a long, deep breath, scenting the were less than a mile away. It was male, and somehow, familiar. The humans felt delightful, but her tigress sensed they wouldn't be enough. Her body felt as if it were about to explode, and not from orgasm. Something inside her was growing to burst straight through her skin. The men were keeping that something at bay, instead of bringing it out, and it felt stifling, at odds with the pleasure.

Rosita stood, ignoring the men who reached for her, flinging curses in their confusion. She shook them off easily. Sniffing the air, she could sense that the male were was drawing closer. Her whole being called out to him, intrinsically knowing complete satisfaction for both her human and animal side could only be found with another like herself.

Running naked out of the building, she tracked the male's scent, slipping through the dark night. Finally, she came to yet another abandoned building. In front of it was a car, idling just outside the pool of light from the streetlamp. She could smell him, his maleness, his excitement. She didn't even hesitate as she opened the passenger door and got inside, an inviting, purr-like growl in her throat.

"Let's go, sweetheart, you're missing out on all the fun."

Jimmy's voice was soothing. She felt just a little more in control of herself as he rolled up the windows and drove back towards the ranch. The vibrations from the car engine sent tingles up her legs and into her pussy, but it was far from the overwhelming feeling of the strange men as they caressed and fucked her body. The tigress was relaxing, confident now in the presence of a worthy male, even if she was still impatient to resume mating. Rosita suddenly began to realize just what had happened, and sobbed with the horror of it.

Jimmy wanted to touch her, to comfort her, but knew it would only send the tigress back into a sexual spiral. Controlling his own primal urges and focusing on the road was hard enough. He could smell the sex and sweat of the men she'd been with, and he cringed with guilt.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. This is all my fault. I asked Aaren to remove your protective detail. I told him you needed privacy with your grandmother while the surgery was performed, and in recovery. I just didn't expect you to bolt when things went bad."

Abuela. She was dead. Rosita's grief began to overwhelm her sexual urges. Even the tigress mourned the loss with equal intensity. All thoughts of mating disappeared as a far greater hole in her being began to ache with despair. This hole, however, could never be filled.

Jimmy watched helplessly as Rosita drew her knees up and sobbed. He could do nothing but drive, giving her time to express her grief during the 2 hour trip back to Stroudsburg. When they finally arrived at the ranch, he was greeted by a naked Jacob.

"There you guys are! We're about to start the hunt, Tony scouted some deer tracks and wild boar..."

Jimmy cut him off, shaking his head. Jacob noticed Rosita's fetal position and grew concerned, but didn't say anything. When Jimmy opened the passenger door, Rosita quietly got out, holding her arms across her breasts. Jimmy took off his tee shirt and gave it to her. There was a brief flash of lust before the despair returned, and she shrugged on the oversized tee. 

Alpha Aaren, with Donovan, approached them slowly. Both men were naked as well. In fact, when Rosita peered out at the full congregation of pack members, she realized everyone was nude, and a few were still detangling from coitus.

"Seems we missed all the fun."

Rosita's voice was monotone, but Jimmy was glad that she was able to make light of the situation. He'd worried the sight and smell of the naked, sweat and sex drenched pack would send her mating drive back into action. Once she shifted into a tigress, fending her off would become more challenging. Jimmy intended to keep his promise. He wouldn't add insult to injury after her group sex fiasco with the Philly Crips. He still felt guilty that he hadn't anticipated the unpredictability of her emotions with the moon finally full.

Aaren tried to seem unassuming as he addressed Jimmy, keeping his eyes off of Rosita. It seemed strange to her that the dominant Alpha wasn't asserting his dominance, but throughout the rest of the ranch she noticed more and more that no one was catching her gaze. Only Donovan sneaked a peek at her, winking before turning his eyes on Aaren.

"Has she shifted yet?"

"No Alpha Aaren."

"Good. The knotting is all over, so we'll all be transforming and moving on to the hunt soon. Do what you need to to help her prepare."

Jimmy nodded. Donovan smiled and followed Aaren as he went to check on and organize the rest of the pack. There were a ton of werewolves, still human, basking in the moonlight. The ranch property was large, but there was no way they would all be able to hunt together. Rosita remembered Jimmy explaining about the Moon Festival. He'd told her they would break into teams of 20 or so and take separate areas of the property, converging back on the ranch by sun up. The team with the biggest, most challenging kill would be the winners, and everyone would celebrate with a feast in the late morning.

Rosita wasn't sure what to make of it all. She still felt like something inside her was trying to jump out of her skin. The raging hormones were still there too, but she felt it less keenly now, her grief still occupying the larger part of her awareness. The guilt, too, dampened her ardor.

She'd allowed her lusts to run rampant because it had allowed her to forget. Forgetting that her Abuela had died on the operating table, even for that brief time, was unforgivable. She clung to that now, the pain, the grief, the guilt, to keep herself in check. Vaguely she realized that Jimmy was trying to get her attention, and she turned to him, the pain still raw in her features.

"Rosita, you're going to have to shift into a tiger soon. If you try to fight it, it'll just be painful. I want you to watch me first. I'll change into a wolf, then back into a human. It will probably trigger your own change, so it's very important that you pay attention to how my body shifts so you know what to expect, and not struggle against it. Do you understand?"

Rosita nodded. She watched Jimmy pull his clothes off. He did it in a very rushed, unsexy way, but that didn't seem to matter much. She felt the twinges of desire returning as she stared at his lean, muscular body. Jimmy could smell her pheromones pumping again, but there wasn't much he could do about that. Quickly, he let himself flow into the change.

Watching Jimmy change from a man into a two hundred pound wolf was nothing like what you saw in the movies. It was neither a quick shimmer of magic, nor a painful contortion of bones and joints.

The first thing she noticed was the fur that rapidly grew along his whole body. Some of it was the same reddish brown as the rest of him, and some was darker, creating beautiful, rippling shades across his body.

Next, she noticed his mass shifting from his arms and legs as they lengthened. His knees did not bend backwards at all. Instead, she noticed that the part most people thought was the backwards knee was actually his ankle, as the foot lengthened and his toes and ball of his foot became paws.

The stretching did seem uncomfortable, particularly as his mouth and jaw lengthened to a muzzle. However, the span of time it took was only a handful of seconds. She barely registered all the individual changes before she was staring at a huge red and brown wolf with deep green eyes. It was not the half man, half wolf monster that she'd seen with Raoul, but the human awareness in him was too obvious to mistake him for an animal.

The tigress inside her was twitching even more now. Her whole body itched, wanting to burst out into something else. Now that she had a better idea of how Jimmy transformed, she could sense what her body was aching to do.

The transformation back into human was the same thing but in reverse. It seemed to happen faster, however, as if he were more comfortable as a man than a beast.

"Now, sweetheart, you need to relax and let yourself go. I know your tiger is trying to come out, you just need to loosen your grip a little and she'll be free."

Rosita gripped her arms fiercely, shaking her head. She didn't want to loosen control. She feared she'd lose control again. It scared her more than anything, her complete lack of power over her baser emotions and urges. When Jimmy stepped towards her, holding his hand to her, she immediately shied away. His eyes pleaded for her trust.

"I won't let you lose control again. I will protect you. I promise."

He was the second man to offer her protection. Memories of the first didn't help her come to a decision. She was just too afraid to trust.

In the end, it didn't make a difference. The moon had reached its zenith and the tigress asserted herself with an earth shattering roar.

Jimmy winced as he watched Rosita's body change. Her fingers and toes clenched tight as they shrank into paws. Her lips curled as whiskers sprouted and thick black fur covered her body. She snarled and snapped as she doubled over in pain while her spine lengthened to accommodate her growing tail. Sinking to the ground, she mewled in pain as the change took her violently as she battled it under the moon.

Jimmy quickly shifted into his wolf, so that by the time Rosita's transformation was through, he was nose to nose with the tiny black and bronze striped tigress.



Riding the Wolf



Raoul came upon the whitewashed bungalow tucked neatly into a large section of forest, the drive and yard dotted with brightly colored perennials. He saw flowerboxes on all the windows and a small vegetable garden as well as a chicken coop, covered by a tent of chicken wire. The chickens squawked nervously before disappearing into the safety of their coop. There wasn't another house for at least a mile, and the thick foliage of the forest would provide excellent cover. It appeared there was a private drive, so it was probably well protected from the main road also. He didn't change back into human form. He didn't have his clothes, so it wouldn't help him to show up naked on the old woman's doorstep. Instead, he half shifted his body so that he remained a wolf, but was able to stand, and had clawed hands instead of paws. It also made him appear much taller, and bulkier. In true monster form, he stalked the house until he found an open window to peer through. It was his lucky day. The grandmother was just stepping out of the shower, and he could see quite clearly that although her dark hair was peppered with gray and plastered tight to her head from the water, the rest of her body was still relatively firm and free from sag. Except for her breasts and ass, which were not as high as they should have been, but not hanging to her knees at least, she looked much like her daughter had. The house itself was what you might expect from an older woman, full of knick knacks and handmade quilts. He also noticed a table full of candles sitting below a beautiful painting of Christ crucified. He almost wished he could grow a pair of horns, but the wolf would be demonic enough. Heading to the back door, he was thrilled to find the door unlocked. Opening it with one massive paw, he stepped into her line of sight and growled menacingly. 

In hindsight, Raoul should have worried about the old woman having a heart attack. However, his luck held, and she screamed in fright, dropping her towel as she ran for the door. He tackled her in an instant, pinning her to the floor. He licked her face like some sort of deranged puppy, the growl still low in his throat. She flailed at his muscled, furry chest, trying to strike him, so he held both her hands above her head with one massive claw. The grandmother began to sob as his tongue lathed her neck, and then found her nipples. She must have bathed with homemade soap, because she tasted like some kind of oil and flower mixture. He couldn't suck her nipples, his wolf head had no lips, but it didn't really appeal to him anyhow. He took one large breast into his mouth and bit gently, but firmly, until his razor sharp teeth sunk past the first layers of skin, drawing a minimal of blood. The grandmother was hysterical, shaking with fear, her eyes closed as she mumbled something over and over in Spanish. It sounded like a prayer. His low growl turned into an inhuman laugh a he nudged her thighs apart. The grandmother's prayers ceased and her eyelids shot open in surprise. She had expected to be eaten alive, but she hadn't expected him to eat her like this. She snuck a glance at his groin and saw a long pink cock sliding out of its furry hood. It still looked like a man's, the head thick and bulbous, but with a pair of fuzzy balls dropping heavily into the sac. The look of horror on her face was priceless and Raoul almost wished he had a camera.

She began to thrash again as he positioned his huge pink missile towards her salt and pepper pussy. He held her hands tight with one claw and one leg with the other. It was enough, and he shoved into her, brutally forcing his cock into her. She was a little wet from the shower, but the inside of her pussy was dry. He was only able to shove a few inches of his prick inside until finally he felt a few squirts of pre cum mix with blood from the tears he'd ripped in her. Finally he was able to slam his cock deep into her pussy and she screamed in pain. He released her arms, both claws gripping her hips tightly, the claws leaving shallow puncture wounds in her thin skin, blood dripping down her ass cheeks. He howled in pleasure as her screams became sobs, her small hands pressing futilely at his thick, furred body. Suddenly, Raoul let her go and stopped thrusting. Immediately she started to back away. When she tried to rise to her feet, her legs failed her, her body already sore and bruised from the short pounding he'd given her. Dragging her body to the bedroom, he saw a phone laying on a doily covered nightstand. It was obviously her goal. He growled menacingly, but inside he was grinning. He was enjoying the chase. Enjoying giving her hope. She would never reach that phone.

Just as the grandmother stretched her hand out towards the phone, the werewolf pounced. She was already on her hands and knees, so he simply held her hips and thrust his long pink cock back into her warm and bloodied slit. She was screaming and clawing at the nightstand in vain. When he thought it was slick enough, he pulled from her dripping cunt and positioned his fat head at the entrance to her asshole. He rubbed it sensuously, giving her just enough time to realize what was going to happen before he drove it home.

The older woman's puckered ass was extremely tight. It had been difficult squeezing his prick into her underused cunt, but this was even worse. Growling in frustration as his shiny pink cock barely slid into her hole an inch, the werewolf spit on his shaft and gently used his claws to slicken himself until he was able to shove the length deeply into the grandmother's ass. She screamed as he began to pound her tight asshole until finally her voice cracked, her throat raw, and she began to sob uncontrollably. Raoul wasn't ready for her to break down yet, however, and released her ass to rake his claws lightly down her back. The pressure was minimal, but his talons were razor sharp, and she began to scream and pull away from him again as her back split open in long shallow gashes. Howling in delight, he began to smack her ass, holding her rounded cheek with the other as the grandmother clawed at the quilted duvet on the bed. The simple chevron pattern, dotted with delicately embroidered daisies crumpled beneath her hands. Riding her brutally, he leaned down to lick the wounds in her back, the blood pushing him beyond simple lust as it coated his long pink tongue. 

Eventually her throat just couldn't scream any more, and Raoul knew it was time. He was almost ready to burst. Throwing the grandmother to the floor, the werewolf rolled her over, his knees pressed against her arms. His huge pink staff strained toward her, and the grandmother stared in fascinated horror as he lowered the tip to rub against her chin. His fuzzy ball sac ticked her chest, it hung so low. He grinned, showing her his razor sharp fangs, blood standing in sharp relief to the pearly white. As he'd expected, her mouth opened for one last, harrowing scream. Quickly he shoved his throbbing cock into her mouth and as deeply into her throat as he could. The grandmother gagged, her throat closing tightly on his thick shaft as he cut off her air. He knew he could taste her blood and ass and it made him wild. He began to fuck her face, his clawed hands wrapping in her damp hair. Her body bucked and her legs kicked, but his knees still held her tightly to the floor. He was thrusting so fast she never had a moment to take a deep enough breath. After less than a minute she began to see stars. The grandmother's jaw tightened and he knew she meant to bite down on him. He growled and fisted her hair in his claws and although her jaw did not relax, he felt no teeth. Pumping into her soft mouth faster, his furry balls slapping her chin, he threw his head back in a howl of triumph as he felt his hot jizz pump out his cock and down the grandmother's throat. He held his cock inside her spasming passage as her body fought to claim a breath. Finally, she stilled.

He pulled his slick pink shaft from her mouth, panting heavily. A knock at the front door startled him. He could hear Rosita calling out to her grandmother. He was surprised she hadn't just walked in, but glad. His limp cock twitched as he picked the grandmother's body up and tossed her into the closet. As he stared at a pair of boots on the floor, sudden inspiration hit him. Hurrying, he finished his task and climbed behind the huge four poster bed, closing the thick curtains so he was hidden from the view of the door, and waited patiently for his prey to come to him.

************************************************

Rosita knocked worriedly at Abuela's door. Although she knew the back door was always left unlocked for her, Rosita's grandmother would sometimes lock the front to let her granddaughter know she needed privacy. However, she would usually call out to let Rosita know how much longer it would be. This morning she was expected, though, and couldn't imagine why her grandmother would not be ready, as usual. A terrible image of her beloved Abuela having fallen and hurt herself sprang into her mind and she just couldn't be rid of it. After calling out a few more times, she steadied her resolve and went to the back door. Stunned, she saw that it was open, and rushed inside, recklessly. Calling her grandmother's name, she ran towards her grandmother's room, quickly scanning that the kitchen and living room were empty. She nearly tripped over the towel on the floor, which drew her eyes to the ground. That's when she saw the red streaks on the floor. It wasn't much, but she knew it was blood.

Rosita was so afraid, she wasn't thinking straight. The open back door, the blood on the floor, should have tipped her off that something was not right. The cell phone in her back pocket was completely ignored as she rushed to find her injured grandmother and help her before anything else. When she walked into the bedroom, the familiar white walls and sparse furniture left only one place for her eyes to fall. The bi fold doors were wide open, and Abuela was strung up by her wrists to the hanger pole. Her body was bruised and bloody, and she hung limply. Before Rosita could rush forward to help her grandmother down, she heard a fierce growl that chilled her blood and rooted her to the spot. Stepping from behind the thick canopy bed curtain, a huge, hairy monster stared at her hungrily. Rosita's body began to tremble, but she didn't move an inch. She wanted to flee, but couldn't leave Abuela there for this creature to eat. Before she could come to the realization that there was nothing she could do to save her beloved grandmother, the thing spoke.

"My, what big eyes you have."

Rosita's eyes, already round with the horror of seeing her grandmother strung up in the closet, widened even more. The wolfish creature spoke with a deep, masculine voice she didn't expect. His fangs dripped as his tongue moved behind them. Rosita didn't reply, but took a step back as he began to approach her.

"And what big tits you have."

The wolf growled, but it didn't sound menacing, more like a purr. Rosita continued to back away, until her shoulders hit the wall behind her. She'd missed the doorway by a foot, and when she turned her head, she could see the door frame mere inches from her eyes. The deep laughter startled her, and her gaze snapped back to the wolf, who didn't look at all concerned about her internal escape plans. She whimpered in fear as she realized she wouldn't make it past the threshold.

"Take off your clothes."

The wolf's voice was barely a whisper. Rosita nearly shook her head, but from the corner of her eye she saw movement from the closet. Her grandmother's body was struggling for slow shallow breaths. She was alive, but it was difficult to breath as all the weight of her body was pulled down in her unconscious state. Rosita knew she had to get Abuela free. That wouldn't happen unless the wolf left, and he wasn't likely to leave until he was done with them. Best to get it over with.

Rosita closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Slowly she lifted her hands to her stomach, grabbing the hem of her red poncho. Lifting it above her head, she dropped it at her feet. Next, she dropped her hands back to her midriff and pulled the plain white tee shirt over her head. She was slightly embarrassed by her gauzy lace bra. Even though no one else had ever seen her in them, Rosita liked pretty, girly undergarments. The wolf began to pant heavily as she peeled her tight jeans from her body and stepped out of them. The matching lace thong hugged her body, and he could see her dark pubic hair peeking behind the flimsy fabric. Reaching behind her back, her round breasts thrusting forward, Rosita felt her nipples tighten as she released them from the confines of the bra. She hesitated, as her hands moved to her hips, thumbs hooking into the string sides of her thong. The wolf growled and took another step forward. Quickly she pulled her panties down and stepped out of them, her body shaking in fear. The wolf smiled a wolfish grin and patted the large bed. 

"Lie down."

Rosita's legs almost gave out as she walked slowly to the bed. She lay down, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest, her legs clamped together, panting in fear. She desperately wanted to close her eyes, but couldn't seem to keep them from the huge wolf standing at the foot of the bed. All of a sudden he sprang, landing to straddle her naked body, and she screamed in terror. Growling in satisfaction, the wolf lowered his massive jaws to her throat, and finally, Rosita's eyes shut tight. She could feel his hot breath on her neck, and she started when a hot, wet tongue slid sinuously from her collar bone up to caress her jaw, then trail along the curve of her ear. She shivered. A wet nose nuzzled her neck before the wolf's tongue began to lick a trail down her body. He stopped at her breasts, teasing her areolas until both nipples were tight, erect buds, gleaming with his slick saliva. He continued to tease her soft flesh until, quite against her will, Rosita's breath began to pant in excitement. 

Rosita felt a flush of shame. She'd saved herself. No one had ever touched her before, only her own hands had caressed her most intimate places. In spite of the terrible, hairy beast that had hurt her grandmother lying atop her prone form, she had never felt such pleasure. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she struggled to hide her reaction. When the wolf finally flicked her nipple with his tongue, she gasped and moaned, betraying the effect he was having on her. Chuckling, the wolf continued to lathe his tongue over her sensitive nipples until she was squirming beneath him. Rosita felt a rush of hot fire between her thighs and blushed scarlet. The way the wolf suddenly stilled, breathing deeply, she knew he could smell her arousal. He left her breasts suddenly, and without giving her a chance to react, grabbed both her thighs and flung them wide, thrusting his nose into her crotch and licking the juices from her pussy. Rosita screamed. Her hands grabbed the bed frame above her head and she hung on for dear life as the wolf ravaged her with his tongue. Her body bucked and writhed, but he held her legs firmly open as he lapped at her sweet folds and ticked her clit. Her clit swelled until it stood free of its hood, and the wolf began to lick it in earnest, wrapping his long tongue around it and stroking vigorously. He felt her body begin to shake and shudder, her fast breath panting and moaning, her breasts thrusting into the air as her little bud throbbed under his tongue. He licked her from the bottom of her slit, all the way back to the tortured clit and suddenly she burst, experiencing the most powerful orgasm of her life. Rosita had played with herself many times, but it had never felt like this. She screamed at the intensity, thrusting her hips towards the wolf's razor filled mouth, uncaring of anything but the pleasure. Before she could come down from the power of the orgasm, the wolf snaked his long tongue inside her hot, wet tunnel. Her cunt was tight as he slithered it in deeper, and felt her hymen pressed against his tongue. He thrust his mouth tightly against her, his long tongue breaking through the thin piece of skin easily, and he pumped the slick muscle in and out of her as she continued to scream in both pleasure and pain. Tasting her virgin blood had woken his cock from its flaccid state, and his cock began to grow again. Stretching out beside her, the wolf pulled Rosita up, her trembling body showing little resistance as he thrust her between his thighs.

"Suck me."

Rosita heard the soft spoken command, as well as the feral growl. Her eyes popped open and she stared dumbstruck at the twitching pink cock that was unfurling from its furry sheath. When she didn't move, the wolf repeated his command, his voice growing harsh and more animal. Closing her eyes, Rosita leaned forward and placed her mouth against the tip of the growing cock. When he growled again, she mistook his pleasure for anger and quickly swallowed the length. The wolf was not fully hard, and she was able to sink her soft mouth down to the base. Gently she sucked on him, moving her head up and down along his shaft, noting that very quickly she was no longer able to take the whole thing into her mouth. The panting and growling wolf placed one taloned claw against the back of her head and gently began to push and pull her, quickening her movements. Rosita's mouth sucked and slurped noisily as she struggled to keep with his urgent pace. Without warning she was shoved backwards. The wolf grabbed her hips, his fingers slipping beneath to squeeze her tight, heart shaped ass, and he thrust himself deeply, lifting her off the bed as her cunt enveloped his cock. A deep, roaring growl turned into a hair rising howl as he began to thrust with short, sharp movements, still holding her hips up off the bed. Rosita screamed in pleasure at each thrust, his cock stretching her tight walls until finally he was able to slide the whole of his length inside her slick pussy. She could feel his soft fur rubbing against her clit and his hands gripped her ass more firmly as he began to lengthen his strokes. Rosita thrashed wildly, arching her body into his, clawing at the quilt.

Neither Rosita nor the wolf had noticed that the grandmother had finally regained consciousness. She watched helplessly as the vicious beast who had forced her pleasured her sweet, innocent granddaughter. While she was glad he wasn't causing Rosita pain, she couldn't help but feel shame for her granddaughter's wanton reaction to the animal thrusting into her body. She began to weep, whispering prayers for God to save her granddaughter's damned soul.

As Rosita's body clenched tightly around the wolf's cock, her screams stopped and became a deep throated moan, her tight cunt convulsing until the wolf let out a long, piercing howl and spilled his cum deep into her. Feeling the hot seed splashing against her womb, Rosita came again, her body trying to milk his cock for every last drop. Finally, she lay panting, completely exhausted. The wolf stayed above her for a brief moment before slowly pulling his cock from the throbbing girl's body. It was undoubtedly the best sex he'd ever had. Leaning down to whisper in her ear, his voice purred silkily, hot breath teasing her sensitive skin.

"Until we meet again, Little Red. I'll be waiting for you in the woods."

Her eyes flew open in disbelief and fear, but he was gone. There was no one in the room, except her grandmother, staring with sad, shameful eyes at Rosita's flushed and naked body.