Alpha Werewolf Complete Set

"I know, I know," he says even though he has no fucking clue how she's feeling. She looks like she's in pain, brows furrowed together unhappily with her lower lip caught between her teeth, biting down hard enough that he can smell a hint of blood beading there. She is rocking a little on his thighs, unintentionally undulating her hips and making her look like she's riding his cock. He knows it's unintentional because she's never even had sex before.

While he had been busy fucking his way through high school, she had been focused on getting the best results so she can so she can get a scholarship. She doesn't like how he treats sex with the same casualness when as when he's talking about going out with friends to the arcade or watching movies. He doesn't really care for the girls he fucks. It's something pleasurable and he is careful to not sleep with the same girl twice, less she thinks their relationship is more than it is... which is basically nothing. It's cruel and callous, she says, and she doesn't understand why he would want to waste time having sex with almost strangers. She likes spending time with him just doing little things, baking and watching movies, relaxing. He doesn't tell her he would much rather fuck her exclusively because she is so innocent still. Eighteen-years-old and she's wholly uninterested in carnal pleasures.

She is very interested now, rocking against his thighs and rubbing herself on him like she's trying to reach orgasm just like that.

"I can make you feel better if you want," he offers, his voice going deep and gravelly.

She licks her lips and asks in a trembling little voice, "Can you?" she asks.

He's used to this too, helping her and making sure she has what she needs because she's so terrible at asking. He asked his parents to adopt her when they were still children and while they couldn't because they're a family of werewolves and adopting a young child who smells so good to all of them is just courting trouble.

She's only here today because it's Christmas Eve and they had special permission to let her stay the night. She's supposed to be in her own room, door locked and sleeping peacefully.

"Please, Erik," she cries fresh tears and he is quick to kiss them away, tasting salt on his tongue. He can't help himself after that, pushing her back until she is under him. He lick her cheeks, washing away the scent of despair and desperation clinging to her skin and replacing it with his own. "I don't- I don't understand what's happening," she whimpers, shivering underneath him with glistening, tear-filled eyes looking up at him.

"Shh... It's alright. I've got you. Everything's going to be alright," he finds himself saying, pulling her into a hug without thinking twice. Her scent is even more potent up close and he nuzzles his nose to her bared neck, breathing in deep. She smells so, so good.

Letting go takes him a few seconds longer than it should have, but once he manages that, he realizes it's not as easy as just him pulling away. She's clinging to him tightly too, arms wrapped around his neck. "Don't- don't let go of me, Erik?" she pleads, her voice so terribly sweet and tempting.

He doesn't know what to do with it. "I won't ever let you go," he promises but he does untangle her arms from his and put a little distance between them despite her desperate whines. "I think you're in heat," he says quietly.

"In heat?" she frowns.

"Yes. You're hucow," he continues, the word heavy on his tongue.

"A hucow?" she echoes softly. She's heard of the word before, of course. Hard not to pick up a word or two when she spends so much time in a household full of werewolves. She grimaces suddenly and he can't help but reach for her, grasping her much smaller hands in his own.

She's cold. He wishes he could pull her closer and hold her in his arms, but she smells so tempting and he can't trust himself not to take advantage.

"Is that- is that... bad?" she asks at length.

"No, no," he buries his face in his hands, suddenly grateful that they're talking about this before he loses sense of himself. It's obvious she knows less than he thought. "You're- you're a shifter," he says.

"Like you?" she asks, beaming so happily at the idea of being more like him that he can't help the twinge of arousal that travels up his spine.

"Not like me," he answers immediately. "You're something else." Hucow is a derogatory term. She's not part cow, part human. "You exist because shifters are a dying breed. You won't be able to achieve a full shift, but to a shifter, you would smell like one of us, like any one of us,," he explains as best as he can, remembering bits and pieces of what he's learned in the books. She will be able to mate with any shifter, wolf, cat, snake, bird... and their children will take after the father. "You're um- you're reaching full sexual maturity. You're body is ready to-" he chokes on the word.

"To?" she prompts, leaning forward with her full attention. The front of her dress falls open a little, exposing her soft breasts. He can smell the creamy scent of milk leaking from the tip of her nipples already. He looks down and ignores the growing tension in the pit of his stomach. Blood rushes to the lower region of his body. "I feel- I feel weird, Erik," she whines again, wiping away fresh tears with the back of her hand. "Achy," she whimpers.

"Where?" he asks without looking up.

"Here," she whispers.

He hears the sound of her shifting on the bed, and then a surprised 'oh' when she touches herself.

"Anh," she gasps again. "I'm- I'm getting really wet," she says, awe in her tone, like she's never experienced arousal before.

He wouldn't be surprised if she hasn't. She had been so busy making sure her results are the best, joining any extra curricular activities in order to make her resume more impressive. She hasn't had time for any sort of sexual exploration and he knows she spends all of her free time with him. They do homework together. It's painfully domestic but he takes what he can get. And she's here right now, touching herself. He wishes he was a worse man and take her.

He manages to croak out, "That's good, dove."

She makes a happy little noise from the base of her throat, followed by a little whine when her fingers delves deeper. She has no frame of reference, she doesn't know what her body is capable of and her first time shouldn't be when she has her heat. It's intense and too much. He has had his ruts before and he suffers through them alone because his family doesn't trust him to not accidentally injure his lover when all he can think about is how much he needs to breed.

"Do I- Do I put my fingers deeper, Erik?" she asks, pausing a little between every other word. Her voice is shaking as is the rest of the body.

He wonders for a brief moment if he should call someone in to help them. His mother would know what to do. But the thought of someone teaching her- touching her- makes her shackles rise and he feels a growl bubbling from the pit of his stomach, rumbling outwards.

"Erik?" she whimpers.