Beastly Intentions Ch. 01

His moan tickled her throat as his hands slid inside the rough material of the gray uniform. She gasped as the heat of his palms slipped across the tips of her breasts, cupping their round fullness, his fingers squeezing gently.

"Just as I thought," he whispered harshly. "Soft and sweet. Has any man touched you here before, Marissa?"

"N-no sir." Her hands fisted in the material by her thighs, showing him that she was enjoying what he was doing to her.

He snarled at the exquisite pleasure brought on by the knowledge that he was the first to touch her. Licking his lips, he could feel the growth of his teeth, the canines turning into sharp fangs, sharp enough to knick the flesh of his tongue, leaving the taste of blood in his mouth to mix with the innocence of her scent.

Wrapping one arm around her waist, he lifted her easily, taking her to the back of the ancient sofa. "Put your hands on the back," he ordered, closing his eyes. She did what he told her without question. His fingers trailed over the tip of her breast, pulling upon it, feeling the tip turn turgid under his twisting fingers.

His other hand unbuttoned more of the too small gown, sliding under the band of the petticoat she wore, feeling the thin material of the too often washed bloomers.

One nail rent the fabric with ease, leaving her bare and open to his fingers.

Her gasp was lost as his mouth found her throat, his tongue licking at the tempting beat of her pulse. It thudded so delicately against his tongue, the blood rushing under that small bit of skin and flesh, so close to the surface, so tempting to him. He let his fangs graze her flesh, not breaking the skin, using subtle pressure and the softness of his lips to cause her heart to beat even faster.

His hand slid down her soft, flat stomach, his fingers tripping over the scant hollow of her navel, tickling across the soft skin of her stomach, enjoying the way she tensed her muscles just an instant before he found the short crinkly hair that covered her woman's mound. Her body jerked backwards, pressing her bottom against his loins even as her thighs parted, making way for his hand to touch her.

"Sir?" she gasped, unable to stay still.

His lips explored the side of her throat, paying special attention to the soft skin over her pulse. Her body felt so wonderful against his, lithe and slim in his arms. She was soft, mewling her pleasure as he caressed her.

"No one has taught you about love between a man and woman?" he asked her harshly, his fingers stopping just at the top of her slit. He could smell her arousal in the air mixed with the heady scent of fear and her own special aroma that had him panting in need. He wanted to taste her, to turn her in his arms and find her lips, let her tongue play across his fangs, use his nails to rip the small gown from her lush figure. He wanted her bare for his eyes and his lips.

He wanted to drink of her juices, he wanted to taste her virgin's blood.

"N-no sir. Is...is that what this is?" she gasped, her hips wiggling against him

"Love is an insipid emotion not worthy of mentioning," he growled, his hand trembling from the effort it took to hold back from touching her wet woman's flesh.

"What matters is this, Marissa. The heat of your body against mine, the taste of your skin, the scent of your need, that is what is important."

His hand slid lower. He could feel the heat of her sex against the sensitive pad of his finger. It called to him, making him long to slip further, to part those swollen, soft lips and dip into the wet wonder of her. He growled, sounding like an animal in pain.

"Please," she whimpered, tipping her head to bare her throat to him more. He could see her tempting pulse even as he heard the sound of her blood rushing through her veins. His hips moved against the soft caress of her bottom, pushing his erect cock against her.

"Please what?" he teased, the pad of his finger tracing the lightly furred lips, denying them both the pleasure of thrusting between. "Please stop? Please let you go? Please fuck you?" The last two words were nothing but a husky growl at the thought of her soft voice pleading with him, using those words an instant before he drove himself into her. "Pull up your skirt," he ordered, not waiting for her answer.

Her hands fisted the material, doing as she was ordered, sliding the material up ever so slowly. Her underskirt rose too, leaving her legs bare to his gaze. The lace on the bottom of her petticoat brushed the back of her thighs as he stepped back just a little, his hands never leaving her body

Her bottom was tight and lush, outlined by the tight curve of the back of her pantalets that hadn't been ripped. He could see the sweet crevice that split the wonderful curves in two. Glancing down, he could see just a hint of her curly fur in the tear he'd made. It was as golden as her head, a scant barrier to his lusts.

"Do not move," he whispered huskily, forcing his hands from under her gown. He heard her moan and smiled, a horrible sight if anyone had been there to witness, fangs flashing in a face covered in long black fur, his eyes glowing with unholy pale amber lights. "Keep your eyes closed, Melissa," he ordered sternly as her eyelids trembled. "I do not wish you to see me this way."

He dropped to his knees behind her, his hands sliding up from her ankles, pushing against the insides of her legs to force her to open them. She didn't fight him, seeming to wait breathlessly to see what he would do next. With the tip of one fingernail, he slit the side seams of her only covering, watching as the fragile fabric slipped down, sticking slightly to her legs, only to be hurried along by the palm of his hand.

Then those sweet globes of flesh were bare to his eyes, his to caress, to kiss, and to nip. "Hold still, Marissa," he said softly, moving closer until he could brush his face against her hip. His lips brushed against her skin even as the fur on his face touched her, causing her to shiver.

****

Marissa was confused. It felt as if an animal was touching her, fur, not whiskers against her skin. But how could that be? She had to be wrong, for the master wasn't an animal; his touch was gentle and sweet, his breath hot against her creating the most amazing sensations to rush over her skin. Her nipples felt swollen and hard, her breasts tender and yearning for more of him.

She felt daring and wicked, standing this way with him kneeling behind her, rubbing his face against her bottom, almost as if he were marking her with his scent. She was open to him, exposed, naked and wanting, her body screaming for things that in her innocence, she didn't understand.

Then his mouth touched her skin, his tongue coming out to lap at the silkiness of her flesh, sliding over the deep valley of her bottom and into the cleft between her thighs, tasting her. It felt huge, his tongue, stroking over the soft folds of her virgin sex, investigating each wet fold of flesh with a fascination that had her panting and squirming, her legs shaking.

"M-master..." she cried out to him, shuddering when his tongue rubbed against some part of her that sent shattering pleasure through her.

****

"Nathaniel," he growled, never moving his mouth from the sweetness of her. He could feel her virgin barrier, wanting nothing more than to rip through it and feel it tear, taste her virgin's blood upon his tongue even as she screamed her ecstasy to the room.

"W-What?" she moaned, her hands dropping her skirt to hold onto the back of the sofa once more as he made it harder for her to stand.

"My name is Nathaniel, Marissa. I wish for you to use it when we are together like this." Holding her open with his huge hands, he lapped at her clit with the flat of his tongue, hearing her moan and feeling the shaking of her legs as she fought to continue to stand. "Keep your eyes closed, Marissa," he groaned.

Forcing himself from the sweetness of her cunt and its temptations, he rose to his feet, his hands at his breeches, unlacing them swiftly. He growled his relief as his cock, freed from its leather prison, sprang free, the tip wet with his own intense excitement. He held her waist, pulling her skirt up, baring those sweet globes one more time to his eyes. He could see traces of her juices shining on the inside of her pale thighs, juices caused by him. Her scent was all over his face, his fur wet from her, smelling of her arousal, driving him mad with the desire to take her as his own.

He stepped forward, letting the tip of his cock slide over the wet flesh, feeling her body jump when he brushed over her clit. His hands went to her breasts, gathering their softness into his palms, feeling the hard tips rub against his skin. His mouth was at her ear, his breathing labored as he fought to not rip and plunge, to plunder her depths as the beast inside him was screaming at him to do.

"I'm going to show you what fucking is now, girl," he growled, his tongue tracing around the whorl of her ear, his breath making her shiver. "If you don't want me to, if you want me to stop, you'd better speak now."

He drew her earlobe into his mouth, suckling gently upon the silky flesh, waiting for her answer. He found her nipples with his fingers, twirling and rubbing the hard buds and hearing her moan even as she arched her back to press her breasts into his hands.

"Hold on to the sofa," he snarled, bending his knees and putting his hand on the flat of her back. He grabbed his cock with his other hand, carefully finding the tiny opening that betrayed her virgin sheath. With a grunt and one single push, he felt himself stretching her, the head of his cock breaching her barrier.

Marissa cried out and he gentled his grip, not wanting to hurt her unduly though the feel of her around him made it difficult to be still. She shifted, digging her fingers into the sofa. He bared his teeth, desperately trying to give her a chance to grow used to his fullness inside of her.

"Are you all right?" he growled, his body leaning over hers, his hands still playing with her nipples, rolling and tweaking the stiff tips.

"I-It hurt," she said, her voice accusing. She shivered as his lips brushed against the tender nape of her neck.

"I know, little one. But it shan't hurt you again, I promise." His hips moved and he heard her gasp, saw her fingers tighten their hold, felt her arch against him, pushing her hips back and into his as if she didn't want to lose the feel of him so deep inside of her.

She moaned, as he slipped his hand down inside her skirts, his fingers slipping between her parted thighs . His finger circled her throbbing clit, touching it with a gentleness that made her shake. He moved against her, his hard male flesh inside of her surging and ebbing, his finger making her moan and cry out.

"You feel so wonderful, Marissa, so tight," he panted. His mouth found her throat, his fangs brushing against her skin. What would it feel like, to let the beast go, to ravage her as it demanded he do, to sink his teeth into her throat and feel her blood in his mouth. Just the thought had him plunging harder into her, his cock battering at her tender flesh, her cunt contracting with delightful spasms that told of her pleasure.

He forced his mouth away even as his climax approached. He did not want to bite her, unable to stop himself as lust flowed from his body to hers. "I'm going to come, Marissa," he growled, hearing her cries of pleasure, drinking in the sounds and scents of her own sweet orgasm as if they were nectar and he one of the Gods to consume it.

He ground his body into hers and felt his hardness swell inside of her. He could feel her shivering under him, her cunny fluttering around his cock. He snarled, his hands closing around her waist, his body slamming into hers and she soared once more, her hips pushing back into his. He roared, his head tipped back, his body arched as he jerked, spurting his seed inside of her in thick hot ropes of pearly come.

His body leaned against hers, his weight pushing on her arms until she lost her balance, her legs giving out. He caught her before she could fall, lifting her once more with his arm around her waist, holding her to him and taking her around to the other side of the sofa. Maneuvering carefully, he managed to lie down, pulling her back to his front, her gown still mussed, her breasts showing beneath the thin fabric of the apron she still wore.

Her hair was no longer in its neat tail, the ribbon she'd worn to hold it back laying the floor behind them. He buried his face in her hair, feeling it catch in his fur, breathing in the clean scent of sunshine and spring flowers. Closing his eyes, he let his breathing relax, his hand softly caressing her thigh where it was still bare, resting upon his own.

****

When his hand stilled, Marissa shifted carefully, her eyes wide as she pulled out of his arms. He hadn't let her turn around, not once during all the time he'd been with her this afternoon, had he let her see him, not even his hands. Curiosity drove her; she had to see his face.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly shifted again until she was facing him. His pants were still untied, his cock, now limp and tinged with her blood, rested against the black leather. She stared at it for a moment, fascinated by how something that had felt so huge, could seem so defenseless now. But then her gaze shifted, slipping up the white shirt he wore, over the plains of his chest that was so wide, up to his shoulders, their girth taking up the back of the couch. His head was buried in the pillow, his hair covering his face and hiding it from her sight.

She reached out with a trembling hand, pulling it back when he grumbled and muttered, waiting until he stilled once more. His hair was silky soft under her fingers. It felt incredibly thick, drawing her closer. She wished she had the nerve to dig her fingers into the mass, to stroke and play with it to her heart's content. She couldn't, not yet, for now she had a mystery to resolve. What was so wrong with his face that he would hide it from her?

She gently pushed the hair from his forehead, her brow furrowing when it seemed so thick. Moving closer, her eyes squinted to see in the dim light, she realized the truth, and at that same moment, his eyes shot open, his hand reached out, grabbing her.

She screamed, his eyes were feral, wild, with their eerie amber lights.

"You couldn't resist," he growled at her, his voice hoarse with shock and mortification. He hadn't wanted her to see him like this. Not with her perfect skin and winsome beauty, he didn't want to see the pity in her eyes or feel her scorn. "You had to look. Well, now you must pay the price."

Standing, he tied his breeches quickly, scooping her into his arms and throwing her over his shoulder. She landed with a painful thud, the hard muscle and bone driving into her stomach and knocking the breath from her. She hung there, her legs and thighs bare, her breasts pressing between the edges of the too small gown, visible under the small white apron. Her slippered feet kicked for a moment before he slapped his hand down on the soft globes of her bottom.

He carried her from the room, shielding his eyes against the bright rays of the sun coming in through the front windows. He growled at Jeffrey who stood on the stairs.

"Master?" Jeffrey blinked in shock at the sight of his master coming from the library, the new maid half naked upon his broad shoulder.

"Not now," Nathaniel growled. He took the stairs two at a time, going from the slightly clean area at the top of the stairs and down a long hallway. It got darker the further he walked until only dim light came from under the doors they passed. He opened the one at the end, closing it behind him.

Marissa heard the sound of the key turning in the lock and her heart dropped. She was trapped.