Pawn Among Wolves Ch. 06

He smiled up at her and softly, tauntingly crooned, "I'm going to catch you." A shudder shook her slight frame as the words burned in fire across her skin, tingling, and she felt the molten, liquid core of her pool and trace a path down her leg as pleasure pulsed through her.

Mac's eyes glazed over slightly, glittering madly as her musk ran over him, and he panted heavily and lunged for the branch at her feet. A spike of pleasure, of anticipation shot through Gemma with the word No! now reverberating like a playful song in her head, and she laughed as she dove back into the lake over his head.

Catch me!

She curved the dive, angling back under the water toward the shore of the island, surfacing and leaping back onto the grassy bank as the ripples of his following dive lapped her skin, before spinning to see which way he was heading. If her ruse had worked.

A squeak escaped her at the end of her spin as she was enveloped in a huge, breathtaking hug, Mac colliding with her in his own leap after her onto the shore. He twisted as they spun together in the air, exploding on another laugh as he landed flat on his back on the grass with her cradled on top of him in his arms, her breath knocked out of her by the sudden pounce.

And the sudden feel of him. Skin against skin. Wet skin. Hot, wet, slick, lightly-furred skin. Her body was shuddering as she melted against him, feeling the last strands of anger evaporating.

Mac laughed huskily as he smelt the change in her scent, murmuring softly into her ear, "Gotcha."

Then he nibbled the lobe gently, murmuring, "Mmmmm," as her doft melted around him, and his cock hardened impossibly to the fierce, demanding, unstoppable urge to mate. His mate.

Gemma's blood exploded, and she arched, skin screaming with want against him as she let out a breathless, high-pitched cry, unbearably stimulated by the rich musk that rolled over her and the sharp tang of pleasure reverberating out from where his teeth pressed into her ear.

She couldn't see, couldn't sense anything outside the circle of his arms as he rolled her urgently beneath him and pulled her thighs apart. Her hands slid up his arms, clamping tight around the hard muscle as she arched on a second cry when his throbbing, swollen cock slammed home urgently in her wet, aching pussy. The burn of him breaching her was a forceful ache, a pleasure and a pain, completion, and she sobbed out a second moan, curving her belly up towards him as his demanding thrusts began to shake her small frame. His fur was brushing gently, teasing her brittle, oversensitive skin with each powerful slam into her and she cried out abruptly, stretching and breaking into shudders of pleasure as an orgasm wracked her with the feel of him. Finally.

Mac's breathing was harsh, hoarse as he lifted one of her thighs and pressed her foot back to his shoulder, turning her slightly sideway to increase the depth of his plunging cock. Thoughts fractured, blood demanding, he increased the pace of his urgent penetrations and held her in place for the incredibly fast, broken staccato rhythm of his hips against her. His mate. His. A soft howl was rising in his throat as the pleasure intensified, and she tightened around him again, crying out in pleasure and bucking up to meet him as he rode her. Mac held back for a brace of aching, intense, pulsing seconds before the howl escaped and he exploded into pleasure, dropping to sinking his teeth possessively into her neck as he thrust and spurted his seed inside her rippling sheath.

Through the pleasure of her shuddering, crashing orgasm, Gemma felt the sharp possession of the hard bite sinking into her flesh as his hips ground against her and his cock swelled further to explode in her tight sheath. She arched again, crying out in aching, beautiful wonder as she exploded in turn, pushed higher, further than the stars. The ripples went on, and on, unceasing, unbearable, beautiful as slowly, slowly, she sank back into herself.

Mac was gently licking the tender spot on her neck - his spot - as his cock slowly hardened again inside her. She felt a sudden flash of hatred sear across her skin at the memory of those others - Marsh wolves - scenting it. Mac lifted his head to see what had caused the shudder, the tension in his mate, and Gemma raised a trembling hand and gently brushed it over the light fur covering those oh-so-well know features. It was soft, baby-down on his face, tawny, the dark and light streaks accentuating the angles of his face.

How come he wasn't a wolf? Gemma's intended words emerged as a slightly grunted squeak, and Mac smiled and dropped his head to lick a long possessive swipe up the scent trail between her breasts. His cock hardened to swollen readiness instantly, pulsing against her passage walls and he smiled down at her wide-eyed expression as he licked the last flavour of her delicious doft off his lips, looking down into her heated, shiny face. Her soft little smile pleased him. He didn't think she even knew it was there - it was his smile. The smile for him. Because of him. He began to rock inside her pussy in short, soft little lunges.

"Ma-!" His name was cut off as he pleasured her with the hard little thrusts, increasing in tempo, and Gemma gasped, arching as the melting, tightening sensation radiated out from the friction of his cock sliding, pulsing inside her. She couldn't speak, arching up against him and pleading with her body as he increased the pace, slamming into her with heavy, short bursts.

Mac slid out of her suddenly, making her gasp in protest as he rolled them both, his scent wrapping around her, hugging her. Then he separated and landed with a splash off the bank in the thigh-deep water by the lake-shore, gently hauling her by her ankles until her buttocks were hovering precariously on the edge of the bank. Her legs naturally parted from their weight and she reached urgently for him, empty, as he folded her knees back against her chest and advanced between them. Mac bent to kiss her, and then slid his cock back smoothly into her wet pussy as he thrust his tongue into her mouth. He lifted and began to slam in harder, the change in angle giving him deeper reach as he grunted with each bottomed out thrust and felt the heated lust surge through his veins as she came under him again while he tweaked her nipples and pounded urgently into her. Her scent as she came - just intoxicating.

Oh god. Oh god. The tension was peaking, repeated waves of intense pleasure wracking through Gemma as he rode her hard. She didn't know this was possible, to keep this feeling, this intensity, this bursting, melting, cresting sensation repeating again and again as he mated her. Her eyes blacked out again as the pleasure in her body burst around him, and she writhed on an echoing cry impaled on his throbbing, thrusting cock. He kept on. And on. She couldn't bear it, couldn't stand any more of the aching, intense pleasure. She cramped again, screaming as she arched into a third wave as he leaned further over her and rocked hard, furious, slapping pounding between her thighs. Then as her unbearably sensitized body released the clamping hold on her muscles, she heard him growling in satisfaction and felt him swell inside her, bursting to spurt his seed. Fire burned through her and she screamed in release at the intensely possessive pleasure-pain of his teeth biting down on the tender skin of her neck, aching to peak again, her own cries echoing in her head as she blacked out.

Gemma was folded over her knees, leaning on her forearms, head resting exhausted on the grass between her hands as she slowly came back to herself. Mac was feathering light kisses over her spine, standing behind her still in the lake, his newly erect cock brushing against her buttocks as he leant over her, trembling lightly in tension as he held himself back. He held a cupped hand to her lips and she drank the cool liquid eagerly. His cock surged against her soft cheeks.

Gemma groaned, dropping her head back to the soft turf and muttered tiredly, "I need to sleep."

His warm sigh tingled arousal against her back, and felt him grasp her hips gently, firmly in both hands, teasing his cock against the entrance to her pussy. She pulsed in hot, liquid want, despite the bonelessness of her entire body. Yes. Yes. Yes. But she couldn't lift her head off the grass.

"Mac, I'm exhausted."

"One more, please, picchu. Then you can sleep for a while. Please?"

For a while. Her lips twitched, face down in the grass. She could get into being on heat.

"Mmm. So long as I don't have to do anything," she grumped drowsily into the blades tickling her lips.

His thumb brushed against her cheek and he pressed gently on her jaw to turn her face sideways.

"And what does that word mean?" she grumbled, then a scent teased at her nostrils and eager pleasure exploded through her, tightening every pore into instant, racing urgency so that she arched back up against him, pressing her buttocks insistently against his heavy, throbbing arousal. She parted her lips to pant as her blood erupted again in a surge of want.

He laughed huskily and thrust his tongue inside her ear at the same time as he carefully slid the tip of his index finger into her mouth, the drop of precum that he'd been teasing her nostrils with exploding on her tongue, heat surging to her nipples. No way did she want to sleep now. She suckled, hard, and he laughed again, carefully withdrawing his short nail from between her lips before he got too excited.

"That's my girl." The smug satisfaction in his voice grated on Gemma and she growled, slamming her buttocks back urgently against him.

"Stop blethering on and fuck me."

He growled in return, a laugh in the sound, and wound one hand through her hair, pulling her head backwards so that her buttocks arched enticingly up towards him. He nudged them slightly wider to give him access, pressing his throbbing cock against her soft arse cheek as he leaned across her back, bending down to murmur again in her ear as he held her immobilised, panting, on her hands and knees, trembling with readiness.

"As requested, you don't have to do anything - just brace yourself. And keep on moaning, I love that."

He laughed as she folded her lips stubbornly closed - arrogant wolf - then he slammed in and began to rut on her hard, breathing harshly into her skin as he surged with pleasure within her. Gemma's hypersensitive passage crested on the first penetration, and despite her stubborn determination to deny the smug wolf, she couldn't prevent the moan which escaped her as he thrust in hard, harder. Wow. His breath was torture in her ears, the feel of it against her skin tingling in her nipples and the hard, relentless force of him pounding into her was right, so right. She moaned, louder again as she felt the burst of moisture trickle down her thighs again. Harder. Harder. He seemed to hear her voiceless plea through the moans, and the pace picked up impossibly until she was beaten hard with the slap of his hips against her buttocks. Gemma collapsed down onto her forearms, moaning in a high-pitched croon as he pounded relentlessly into her from behind, then arched back with a scream of pleasure as the grass brushed over her achingly tight nipples with the next forceful lunge of his hips. He thrust hard through each aching, moaning peak of her pleasure, riding the intensely delicious sensation of the ripples of her pussy squeezing around his cock, then released a full-throated howl of satisfaction as she collapsed under him, writhing, moaning, undone. He followed her down, surging the last, hardest thrusts inside her as he firmly, gently bit down on his mate and exploded in a third surge of intense, impeccable pleasure as he spurted within her.

Gemma's last, dazed awareness as his healing tongue lifted from her neck was of being gently, tenderly rolled into a warm fur embrace. "Why aren't you a wolf?" she murmured, half-asleep as she snuggled up against his chest, wrapping an arm around his waist, enjoying the soft brush of the down against her achingly sensitive skin. Her fantasy had come true.

Mac sighed, and stroked a gentle hand over her back as he cradled her to him. "You mean a loup? This is the wolf. And your scent is also wolf at the moment, Gem, so I can respond as myself. I won't hurt you like this."

Her head was sinking softly into clouds of sleep-filled satiation. Her voice was a thread of sound, "This is you?"

"This is me," he responded softly, the hand sweeping gently down her spine. "Sleep, picchu."

Gemma 's brain drifted under the caress of the word, the endearment, as his warm hands soothed her body. That was another question - but she was too tired to ask now. Too tired. Too content. She slept.

Thanks for your patience! And all the votes and comments- comments are really appreciated as it's great to hear what you think.