Heat

This is just a sample text of my writing. Heat in female wolves usually makes them horny, and in this case, she's the horny one.

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The serenade of the black wintry sky is filled with a choir of stars that sing patterns across the dark, each musical note wavering in the air and seeping into the warlord's room.

The silence is broken by such song, along with the restless shifting of covers as River lies beside him in unsettled slumber.

Something slips through her blood and she turns, unconsciously slinging her leg around Hadrius' waist, but the brushing of sweltering skin is enough to shed hairs of sleep from her mind. Peeling one hesitant eye open, she peers briefly around the room through a hooded lid, then slumps back onto the pillow beneath her.

There, she finds herself torn between the carousel of ideas that fill her awakened mind and the whispers of sleep that still call back to her.

River sighs against her arm. An itch dances along her nose but she brushes it away, following the movement of her hand to the slumbering behemoth beside her.

The twisted bedsheets do little to conceal the magnificence of the man stolen by the night, dark lashes framing marble-cut cheekbones and lips parted, reddened and wet even in his sleep.

Almost gracefully, the curve of his bicep and forearm beneath his crown of hair melts into a hardened torso that River is all too familiar with; each golden plane, each firm ridge narrows from broad shoulders into a waist that is smothered by silken sheets.

Mild displeasure soaks the human at the fact but she soon finds herself enraptured by Hadrius' complexion once again. A spell thumbs over her emotions.

The slope of his sharpened nose.

The masculine curve of his jaw.

Midnight hair woven with strands of gold that only catch in the sunlight.

Intently, River's gaze cruises from feature to feature, eyes narrowing to slits in search of some flaw or frailty that may befall the man, but she finds none.

She sighs softly, another warm breath billowing onto her arm as she scrutinises him, searching painfully for an answer as to when he had first begun to look so... beautiful. The girl almost grimaces at the word, lips threatening to contort in distaste but finds that they cannot.

Because that is what Hadrius is.

Beautiful.

The knowledge of seeing him so wholly and vulnerable feels almost ethereal and foreign. Her fingertips lightly brush the masculine curve of his shoulder, tracing a faded white scar that looks jagged, almost painful. She follows the haggard path towards his neck where thin lines begin their descent down his back.

The whippings he took for her had occurred less than a year ago, yet the memories still paint themselves vivid beneath her dark lids.

Hadrius on his knees, defiance burning bright in his demeanor before Novus. There had been no shame or regret in his countenance; and many a times, River had feared he would turn one day and look at her in the same demeanour - with regret.

He had not.

Beneath the relentless rain of blows, the warlord remained unyielding to the pain that travelled down his powerful body in rivers of red, and steadfast in his resolve in opposing the Alpha's volition; Hadrius was stone, she realises, weathered and yet unbending to the forces of nature around him.

He had sacrificed his pack, his loyalty, and all that he had grown accustomed to. For her.

Such sacrifices, River was not accustomed to. The realization that someone could and would give for her while not expecting anything in return casts a summer warmth over her chest, spreading low like a fog that slowly eases up her throat.

"Why is it that you growl at this ungodly hour, pup?" The warlord's voice is thick with slumber, and she blinks as her attention lifts to him.

River realizes then that she had been purring whilst watching him, lost in the emotional sentiment that casts fingers of flames across her cheeks. Her hand slides across his chest, tracing battle scars.

"I wasn't growling," she utters and his chest deflates with a heavy sigh.

With his eyes still shut, Hadrius turns to her. She studies his brows, rubbing them back and forth with one finger, then trails lower to his nose, feeling the steel bone beneath, further down to his petalled lips which she rubs. Applying subtle pressure, she slips her thumb into the warm cavern of his mouth.

River's purring increases in volume as she feels his scythe teeth, deeper still until her thumb brushes his soft tongue.

The warlord bites down on her thumb with firm pressure, stilling her intrusive actions. His hooded eyes open just slightly to regard her cynically. "Yes?"

She watches him openly. "I love you."

Hadrius studies his mate for a drawn moment, then releases her thumb with an exhausted sigh. His eyes droop shut whilst he says, "I love you too, now sleep."

River places a palm on his cheek, tentatively stroking his cut cheekbones. "I love you," she murmurs once more, trailing her fingertips along his Spartan jawline.

His eyes shift restlessly beneath dawn eyelids. "I know you do."

River touches his throat, feeling the tidal rise and fall of his Adam's apple. "I love you."

"Stop that," he chastises vaguely and she does, if only for a deceiving moment. Her palm has a mind of its own, however, and rubs his chest, tweaking a pierced nipple, feeling the cool metallic bar brush her fingertips.

"I really love you, Hadrius," she confesses, gazing up at him imploringly. The affectionate stroking continues, skimming indulgently over his torso, rising to appreciate the fine marble-cut structure of his face: neither sloppy, nor awry. Perfect.

"I love you so much," she admits, slipping her palm beneath his arm and onto his back, wistfully following the silken curve of his spine lower and lower until reaching his firm behind. She cups one cheek and gives it an adoring squeeze. "I love y—"

The Warlord's eyes snap open, his movements a swift blur that she cannot keep up with— his large palm captures both her wrists and pins them to her chest. His body follows suit, rolling on top of her, imprinting her lithe figure into the mattress.

Air vacates her lungs at the sudden unbearable weight of him, but River can only think that she is breathless in love.

"Sleep," he demands, pressing his face into her temple, denying her space to turn her head and potentially smother him with kisses.

"I can't sleep," she mutters breathlessly, wriggling beneath the weight that anchors her down. Despite the barrier of clothing she wears, Hadrius' figure is distinct on hers, imprinting every flexed muscle and chiselled edge. His heartbeat is strong and steady on her shoulder. The heat of him suffocating yet welcome.

"I love y—"

"Pup," the Warlord's growl is deafening, hot breath tunneling her ear dangerously. "I will suspend you by your toes over the hellhounds should you continue speaking." He pauses, allowing the threat to sink, "understood?"

River nods, the words prickling her tongue. She waits a moment then speaks into the darkness; "Will you do it lovingly?"

He growls and begins to rise.

"I'm joking! I'm sorry—" her eyes meet his apologetically, "I'll stop, promise." River would not have minded the punishment, but the thought of his body vacating hers feels punishing enough. "Continue pinning me down, sir."

His body resumes its position atop hers and she exhales a sigh, electric thrills rubbing down her spine as he sinks along.

When darkness grows and the silence swells, River begins to purr.

River wakes to the hot prickling of her skin, a disturbing heat that licks her limbs, slipping between the length of her inner thighs and stirring slight discomfort at the crest.

She peers a tired eye open, automatically reaching across the bed for her mate— the man of her dreams. River opens the other eye when her palm brushes the empty space, cool from his lingering absence.

She rolls onto her side and studies the desolate stretch, then presses her face into the pillow where his head had lain the night before. Her chest expands like a balloon as she takes in his scent, allowing the familiarity to briefly soothe her mildly achy body. Like a dark elderberry it's skin drifts above her own, surreptitiously tinkering down her legs and when she shifts, the simple friction of her thighs presses on her moist pussy lips.

"Hadrius," River murmurs while rising from the bed.

"The warlord," she hums tunelessly while bathing and drawing on a white dress that adorns her shoulders, silken sheets plunging at the neckline and grazing her ankles, along with lazuli sandals with crisp blue straps. "My warlord."

The weather outside bleeds parallel to her moods. The lazy sun just hovering towards the center of noon shielded by a thin layer of grey winter clouds, dapples of golden light pressing gently on her bare shoulders, spreading warmth down the nape of her neck. River crosses the familiar pebbled path up towards the palace where she knows he will be.

Her eyes wander over the thick tracks of snow on either side, then down towards a group of soldiers wielding swords and armory. They move in a manner of leisure despite their kingdom having been taken, a possible state of anarchy, and it confuses River but only briefly when realizes how much relief they must feel over Hadrius' victory.

Cool air brushes her bare forearm, barely cold enough to abate the unfamiliar heat that still winds down her spine, wrapping its fingers along her inner thighs and edging further up.

River exhales and steps into the palace's open hallway, immediately seeking the warlord only to find him not far off.

Hadrius stands among five other men- all large and thoroughly intimidating with dark coats and golden crests embellished over their right breasts. Hadrius is speaking, the brown fur coat he wears a seeming invitation for her to burrow and hibernate in.

"... have their bodies lowered and burned at the altar, their ashes should be scattered by the river."

River halts by his side and immediately reaches for his hand, slotting her fingers between his. The contact sparks something cool in her body and her chest rumbles in heightened pleasure, a low purr eliciting as she gazes upon his countenance in open adoration.

The men's attention flickers to her for a heartbeat then tears away-- out of fatalistic respect for their leader, and upon the realization that her scent is heightened among them. The familiar trace of pheromones that linger on females in heat.

Their voices are indistinguishable and pass over her head as she leans forward to burrow her nose into his forearm, brushing her thumb over his rough knuckles lovingly. Peering her eyes open, River stares idly at three women walking down the hallway, approaching them.

They neither pay attention to Hadrius nor the men but River feels a jolt of protectiveness leap up her throat, shutting down the purring as something of a threatening growl rattles from her chest. She bares her teeth at them subtly when they stop to bow slightly for Hadrius, then move on.

It continues in that manner.

Every female that passes by, or male that seems to bat for the same team as her, would receive a growl of possession. Some would stare at her oddly, others might flinch, but for the most part- they ignored the human, seemingly unbothered by her small frame clasping her mate like a toy only meant for her.

Hadrius suddenly shifts as the men break away, and his movements cause her growls to stop mid-way as she glances up at him.

He is watching her, arcing an amused dark eyebrow.

River's feral expression smooths over in an instant, her lips curling in a soft smile as the adoring vibrations in her chest begin. "Hello."

Hadrius watches her a moment, steady impenetrable eyes unhurriedly scanning her face for something off, they land on her bare arms. "Are you not cold?"

River considers his question- the heat that had begun to rise in her body only abating briefly when she held his hand. Now it returns with a slight vengeance, prickling her scalp, churning her abdomen which only tenses when her eyes land on his mouth. "No," she replies realizing that he is waiting.

Licking her lips, her gaze meets his innocently, "May I have a kiss, sir?"

The warlord seems taken aback by her request, obsidian eyes scrutinizing her once more with an odd, open curiosity. They lighten briefly and to her joy, he leans down. River shuts her eyes in preparation, puckering her lips hard, almost moaning as the distance between slips to a mere hairsbreadth. She waits.

His calloused fingers suddenly take hold of her chin and tilts her face up an angle. The gesture has her eyes opening just slightly as she regards him in dull bemusement.

His nose presses on her cheek then rises to nose her temple and hairline. "I see." He murmurs as his mind whirs on a new tangent.

River struggles in his grip, wanting to angle her face and chase after that perfect mouth. " What?" She rushes impatiently, a petulant tilt to her voice, " what do you see?"

Hadrius chuckles lowly, almost sinisterly as his face finally hovers before hers, his thumb tracing her lower lip. "You're in heat."

Heat, she thinks in mild confusion, struggling to focus on the new plate of knowledge and not his moving lips. So that's what this is.

"Oh," she feebly replies, unwavered by the new concept in her anatomy. River blinks up at him, "may I still have a kiss? Please?"

The corners of his lips curls in thorough amusement. Had the heat subsided, River would have given him a tongue lashing for watching her with such concentrated smugness- but there is something undeniably attractive even in his sinister, mocking state.

She wants, needs, a good pounding.

A thorough fucking.

Complete breeding.

As his lips touch hers, River feels the heat abate, a coolness of relief winding down her shuddering spine and she leans in for more, tilting her face to better the angle. She moans enthusiastically at the silken touch of his tongue, eagerly parting her lips then teeth, meeting the intrusion with her own. Her arms loop around his neck, branding his face on hers with ha sudden urgency.

As his tongue strokes hers, she wonders what that same instrument could do between her legs, slipping into her tight chalice, fucking her with it. River bites down on his tongue, trapping it in her mouth as she rubs her thighs together, seeking friction from her sodden panties.

The warlord begins to withdraw, "That is enough."

She growls like a feral animal on his face, her grip on his neck unrelenting even as he straightens, inadvertently drawing her up with him. Desperately, River's legs rise and wrap firmly around his torso, her lips planting solid kisses on his mouth, his stubble cheek, his spartan jawline then neck-

"Human," The warlord growls his disapproval yet she matches it with her own high-pitched undefined one. His large hand sinks into her hair, gripping it at the roots and firmly draws her face from the crook of his neck.

Hadrius gazes down at his mate's flushed face, eyes bright and pupils dilated with desire, her petalled lips are wet with drool, slight canines flashing at him haphazardly.

"Stop that."

"Hadrius-"

"No."

"Please-"

"No."

River stops her squirming and gazes up at him imploringly, when that does not work she softens her eyes, puffing her lower lip out in a subtle pout. "Please sir," she whispers, slowly flexing her hips on his torso, using the firm ridges of muscle to rub her aching core, "one kiss."

"No." And with those final words, he extracts her from his body and sets her down on both feet. River begins to reach for him when he steps back with a somewhat smug yet serious look upon his countenance, "there will be no less than five feet distance between us."

Her eyes drop to the floor, calculating the space, her body aching at the realization. River begins to scowl up at him, then catches her sour expression realizing it might only cement his idea of not touching her. She licks her lips and hangs her head, nodding like a scolded puppy.

After a moment, she peers up at him; "Where are you going?"

"I have a meeting."

She begins to follow him like a second shadow, wary that he would reject her advances and certainly sour of his past rejections. With each step and lack of rejection, River finds herself inching even closer,gazing intently at his free hand, his ringed fingers, wishing he would slide them inside her; ring and finger, cold and hot.

"You will remain silent throughout the meeting," she blinks up at Hadrius who is poised over her, patiently standing before a shut door, "no whining and no touching, understood?"

River bristles, her cheeks growing hot from lack of intimacy. She considers his words briefly then gazes at him, "May I have a final kiss?" Hands cage her face and moments later his mouth slates over hers. River presses on her toes, inching up to chase after his retreating mouth and growling in her process.

He shoots her a stern look to which she silences the noise and smiles openly; " I love you."

Hadrius sighs with all the world's burdens on his shoulders, then takes her hand, "I love you too."

The boardroom is partially filled with men and women of varying degrees; all Lycan, all large and impossibly intimidating, all whose ethereal gazes land on River for a stuttering moment before flickering to Hadrius as he takes his seat at the head on the table. River sits directly beside him, shifting and rearranging herself on the seat. The seat's rough material offers just enough friction to ease her agony and for a vulnerable moment, River considers masturbating on the seat.

The warlord's voice draws her out of it as he speaks to the members.

He says something about Novus and his punishment. There are murmurs of approval.

Next they discuss members of the council, who will be punished and who will suffer death. More murmurs. Papers begin to shuffle.

Taxes. Settlement. Alliances with other kingdoms. The vampires. The mortals.

Expansion.

River casts her warlord a sidelong glance, appreciating the steel cut of his side profile. She reaches for his hand and expects him to withdraw but he does not. Exhaling a sigh of relief, River draws it onto her lap and proceeds to casually play with it. She traces her fingers over the rough palm, slotting her fingers between the spaces only to withdraw and twists his cold sterling rings back and forth, around and around.

Easing a ring off his finger, she slides it onto her thumb- the only finger that would match his width- and flexes it this way and that.

Then, almost casually, she begins to guide his hand from her knee up along her thigh, gathering the soft material of her dress in the process. Her breath catches when he does not let up, and instead allows her to inch even higher-

Hadrius suddenly grips her flesh, hard; his calloused fingers burrowing into her flesh with an intensity that would otherwise bruise and injure a mortal but this draws out an erotic purr from her.

His palm jerks away and she begins to whine only to fall silent beneath his short scathing look.

Ears falling flat on her skull, River angles her face away and scowls at the wall.

The heat returns with a blinding intensity, throbbing like an erupting volcano at the crest of her thighs and she leaks her arousal into the seat, between her ass cheek, lathering her smarting asshole.

Realizing that he is conversing with two other men, River demurely reaches for his hand once more.

There is resistance to his grip this time around, and she tugs it more firmly, forcing it on her knee. The effort had caused her to pant slightly and she takes a moment to catch her breath before guiding his hand back up her thigh.

This time, the warlord's resistance abates as she directs him past her knee, higher still. The material of her dress collects around his wrist and her breath hitches in mild excitement as the distance between begins to narrow. She feels his fingers-slender and rough and long, skimming along the tender flesh of her inner thigh and she guides him until the edge of her underwear.