Claimed By the Alpha (Werewolf Erotica) by Rachel Chase
Anya is determined to learn the secrets of a mysterious werewolf pack. But knowledge comes at a price -- in this case, an encounter with the pack's dangerously seductive alpha. Can Anya survive her own hidden desires? Warning: this 4500-word story includes a full moon, a demanding werewolf, oral gratification, rough sex, spanking, and anal sex.
She was about to set off when all the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up. It felt exactly the same as it had in her dream—only this time she was wide awake. She turned, very slowly, and faced the alpha of the High Sierra pack.
“Anya. You’ve been a very naughty girl.”
She shivered. Warm black velvet, his voice promised pain and pleasure; it rubbed between her legs, a wicked caress, and her pussy gushed. Power rolled off him in waves, stealing her breath. His body fairly glowed in the moonlight, and Anya needed all her willpower to stay standing. What she wanted to do was kneel before him—and suck his cock into her mouth.
Fighting for control, she gave him a nod. “Kellan.”
“You have not earned the right to use my name.” The rebuke was delivered in those same velvet tones, and she was struck by a wild compulsion to bend herself over his knee and beg for punishment.
“What are you doing to me?” she managed to ask.
“Giving you what you want.”
“No.” She shook her head, the denial automatic.
“Anya.” He took a step closer, and she fought the instinct to flee. “My power has limits; I can only respond to what’s inside people. I can’t put it there.”
She wanted to ask him about his power, but the turmoil inside her was too distracting. “That can’t be true. I’ve never felt this way before. I’ve never wanted—” she couldn’t even say it out loud.
“You've always wanted it. You never let yourself see it.”
She couldn’t swear he was wrong. “You … know what I want?”
“Your body tells me,” he said, and she blushed, hoping it didn’t show in the moonlight. He took another step toward her, and her heart began to pound. “You came here to learn my secrets.”
“Yes.” There was no point denying it.
“The path to that knowledge lies through your desires.”
Her panties were soaked, her nipples taut, but she managed a halfhearted sneer. “So if I let you fuck me, I can have my story?”
“Anya.” His voice was almost gentle. “You came here so you could fuck me.”
“That’s … ridiculous. I’m a professional. Doing my job.”
Her voice wasn’t steady. The alpha leaned down, so close, until his lips were a fraction away from hers. “Is it your job to lie to yourself?" The heat from his body soaked into her skin, and she almost whimpered with need, wishing she could close the distance and melt into him.
“Kellan …” she whispered.
“I told you; that name is not for outsiders. If you call me anything, call me Master.”
A tiny part of her wanted to rage at him. But she wanted, needed, answers; and yes, she wanted—needed—to feel him inside her. If she left now, she knew, both the man and what he could tell her would be lost forever. Anya swallowed hard. “What do you want me to do?”
“Do you submit?”
The only safe answer was no. “Yes.”
For a moment longer, Anya wavered; but she couldn’t bring herself to turn back. “I submit.”
He straightened. “Take off your clothes.”
She blinked at the bluntness of the command. Just sex, she told herself; it was just sex, and she was a big girl. No matter what happened, she’d have a piece of her fantasy tonight. Piece by piece, she peeled off the layers of lightweight, breathable clothing she’d worn to protect her from the elements and tossed them aside, until she was naked. A cool breeze swirled around her, and her nipples stiffened.
The next moment, Kellan’s arms came around her and his mouth closed over her breast. “God!” Now that he was actually touching her, the heat from his body was like a flash fire, roaring through her, igniting her nerve endings. And his mouth … her response was out of all proportion to what it was doing. Sensation was building in her way too fast, pleasure raging upward to its peak, as if her whole body were one giant erogenous zone, every point of contact pushing her over the edge.