Wolf Moon Pt. 02

Grace opened her mouth to argue, but honestly, her heart wasn't in it.

'Trust me?' growled Benedict, lowering his lips to her cheek and kissing gently, as he pushed all his fingers deeper.

And with a level of faith she'd never shown any man previously, that's exactly what Grace did. Before long, her confidence in him was rewarded as he slowly built up her pleasure; pleasure which was evidenced by the way she tightly squeezed every digit which dared to penetrate her writhing form. But still he didn't allow her to climax. Instead, Benedict guided her expertly around the very edge of the abyss, never once allowing her fall headlong into it. She was fully primed, her pussy spasming with pre-orgasmic contractions, her throat sore from crying out in despair, but still her release remained elusive. What was worse: Grace became entirely convinced he was doing so on purpose.

'Please,' she tried to rasp, but in her frantic state, absolutely no sound came out of her mouth.

Just then, his other hand slipped beneath her abdomen, easily guided to the required location by the wet heat now dripping from her pussy. With a cry of despair, Grace realised Benedict had sought out her slippery clit, placing a finger and thumb benignly either side of her aching, swollen flesh. Instantly, she descended into full body shakes, swiftly appreciating exactly what was being planned.

'Mmmm, yeah. That's my good girl,' crooned Benedict, the satisfaction oozing from his voice. 'You understand what happens next, don't you. I'm gonna take you to the very edge of insanity.'

And then it began. A total assault on her senses, as Benedict pushed Grace way beyond the realms of her self-control. Her first climax grew slowly, thanks to the gentle build up he provided. The rhythm of his two fingers gradually increased until they were plundering her pussy, the finger in her ass magnifying the sensations tenfold. But when Benedict brought his other hand into the equation, clamping her clit in place between finger and thumb, she was lost. Exploding with elation and relief, Grace was way past being embarrassed by the sheer volume of her pleasure.

What she hadn't been expecting was the relentlessness with which Benedict continued. Not content with one or even two orgasms, he pushed her ruthlessly onwards. The situation was made worse by her constant writhing; every movement Grace made only helped to stimulate her further, forcing herself to impact unpredictably against his insistent hands.

Having lost count of the number of times she was pushed to the extremes of bliss, Grace eventually began to tire. Only then did Benedict shuffle slightly closer towards her. Without removing those pleasure-seeking hands, he laid the length of himself against her, dropped his mouth to the side of her neck and grazed his teeth against the sensitive flesh.

'Do you trust me?' he murmured, his fingers never ceasing.

'Yes,' she groaned, without hesitation. The application of his teeth against her neck had sent a blast of awareness through her fatiguing body. Now fully alert, Grace realised that for some unfathomable reason, she really did trust him. But set in this ancient location, surrounded by gothic architecture and accompanied by the sexiest man she had ever known, she couldn't help but be reminded of vampire stories that she'd read in her youth. The imagery set her thoughts alight, only further increasing the thrill of fully surrendering herself to Benedict.

'You shouldn't trust me,' he grunted, before pressing his teeth harder against her flesh. His actions caused a bolt of pure bliss to shoot down from Grace's neck, through her abdomen, to terminate at her clit.

Able to feel the sharp canines she'd previously noted digging against her neck, Grace naturally tipped her head away, providing him with better access, subconsciously requesting more. At that same moment, his fingers leapt into action, sinking deep inside her spasming pussy, while concurrently capturing her clit, manipulating it in ways she'd never even imagined.

The combination resulted in the most intense climax Grace had ever known. Bellowing out in desperate need, her exhausted form submitted to Benedict as time and time again, the ecstatic contractions turned her mind empty and her body boneless. The last thing she remembered before sleep claimed her once more, was a low, animal-growl being emitted from deep down within Benedict's chest. He sounded like a man on the very edge of despair, who had just had his last chance of salvation ripped from his fingertips.

***

When Grace next woke, it was past midday. This time, their rumbling stomachs forced both parties to consider rising, in order to search out much-needed sustenance. Having located her bathrobe, Grace found herself being led into the main kitchen, her fingers permanently entwining with Benedict's as they walked.

'By the way,' he muttered sexily into Grace's ear, as she settled down onto a stool. 'I can smell the scent of sex...or at least sexual pleasure...on your incredibly delectable body again. And I love it.'

Flashing her a most suggestive wink, Benedict then located a number of ingredients, easily rustling up the tastiest omelette she could ever remember eating.

'This is sooooo good,' she moaned, before hungrily consuming another mouthful.

'You only think that because your energy reserves are so low,' he teased, gazing affectionately across the table at her.

'Well, you've only got yourself to blame for that,' she countered cheekily.

'Have I now?' he enquired, an eyebrow rising, as though to challenge her statement. 'You're placing the blame for what happened solely at my door, are you? That is very interesting.'

Blushing slightly, Grace returned to eating her food, appreciating that she was at least partly to blame for what took place last night and again this morning. Not that blame felt like exactly the right word to use in these circumstances. Congratulate might be more appropriate.

Just then, an elderly lady shuffled quite unexpectedly into the room. She was wearing a black dress with a white apron, her demeanour instantly marking her out as staff. She looked as though she didn't belong in this era. Her dress, her physicality; in all honesty, Grace thought she'd have looked much less out of place in a Jane Austen novel.

'Oh! Good morning Master Benedict, Ma'am,' she added respectfully in Grace's direction. 'I do apologise for disturbing you. I wasn't aware you had company.'

'We'll be out of your hair again soon, Rosa,' Benedict replied with a nod. 'Please do carry on as you were.' But Rosa didn't return her master's easy attitude. On the contrary, she appeared alarmed at Grace's presence and generally rattled. Within seconds, she swiftly left the room. It was a reaction not missed by the man of the house, though. After his housekeeper's exit, he seemed to noticeably draw back into himself, becoming much less tactile and affectionate with Grace. Almost as though an unspoken warning had been passed to him from the apparition which had been Rosa.

After they'd finished eating, Benedict accompanied Grace back to her room, making no attempts to suggest they continue their previous pleasures.

'I'll call a cab for you,' he offered. 'Would a quarter of an hour be long enough for you to get ready?'

'Er. Yes. That would be fine, thank you.' Failing not to feel both dejected and rejected, Grace made her way back into her bedroom, a location she'd barely spent any time in to date, and gathered her few meagre possessions together. Before long, she'd made her way back down to the main entrance hall, surprised to discover Benedict already there. Marching across to her, looking like a man determined to have his say, he focused seriously on Grace.

'I need to tell you...I'm not the right guy for you,' he stated firmly.

It was a fairly out of the blue statement which, had it been made by any other man, Grace would have immediately rejected as a ridiculous and somewhat big-headed presumption. But she had an idea that Benedict was rather psychic. He had certainly proven himself capable of reading her thoughts with ruthless efficiency. Besides, he was wrong. She wasn't sure that he could be any more perfect for her. Grace's certainty made her determined to argue her case.

'But what we shared was...'

'Yeah,' sighed Benedict, momentarily losing the concern in his expression. 'It was.'

'I didn't say anything,' complained Grace.

'You didn't need to.' That was true. In Grace's mind, there was only one way anybody could describe what had taken place between them. And that was magical.

'Now I wish I could read your mind,' she sighed, able to feel him physically slipping further away from her.

'I was thinking that my night with you represented the first time I've ever considered a woman's pleasure to be entirely superior to my own,' he admitted, with surprising honesty.

'Oh right...so what does that mean?'

'I'm not sure. Perhaps it means I'm growing up at last,' admitted Benedict with a sad shrug. 'That sounds like your cab,' he added, before Grace had a chance to respond.

'I'm so very grateful for everything you've done for me,' said Grace quickly, unsure whether to offer him any money for her room. But in the end she decided not to. After all, he was clearly not short of funds, and it would be awfully embarrassing if he thought she was somehow paying him for more than just her room, but instead for services rendered.

'You are more than welcome. Goodbye Grace Amelia Taylor,' he said sadly, lowering his eyes as though it hurt him too much to keep looking at her.

'Goodbye,' she replied quietly, before taking a firm hold of the door handle and stepping outside.

The day was an incredibly cold one, as had been the weather pattern all week. She scurried towards the cab and jumped inside, grateful to be out of the biting wind once more.

'What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?' asked the cab driver, who looked a little surprised to see her. He was a small, aged man with grey hair and wire-rimmed glasses. His face was heavily lined with wrinkles, making Grace silently question how old he was; way past standard retirement age certainly. Perhaps his memory was fading, hence the rather strange question.

'It's hardly the middle of nowhere,' Grace replied, smiling kindly to counteract the confusion in her tone.

'As you wish. Into town then?'

'Yes, please,' she replied, deciding it wasn't worth arguing about. For one final time she turned back to look at Canis Hall and the man she was desperately trying not to fall for. But to her dismay, when she glanced towards the main entrance, the door was already firmly closed and Benedict was nowhere to be seen.

Having navigated up the long driveway, along which she'd been carried the previous night, the cab turned out onto the moorland, heading home. For a short while, Grace lost herself in the beauty and desolate splendour of the countryside around her, where every stretch of road looked exactly the same as the section they'd already travelled. There were no discernible landmarks of any kind, forcing Grace to conclude that it really hadn't been her most intelligent idea to attempt to walk home across the moor last night. Goodness only knows what her fate would have been, had Benedict not rescued her. She really did owe him a very significant debt. But perhaps she'd already paid it given she'd just allowed him unfettered access to her body, after which he'd rejected her. Instinctively, she rubbed her hand against the side of her neck where, in a moment of passion, Benedict had bitten her. Not enough to draw blood, but certainly enough to make his presence felt. God, she still ached for him so absolutely, despite his hurtful dismissal.

Frantically trying not to cry, Grace stifled a small sob, before biting her bottom lip hard to gain control of her emotions. Really, it wouldn't do to fall apart like this; at least, not until she was safely back home.

'To my knowledge,' said the cab driver, interrupting her thoughts. 'There is only one house on the moor and that is Canis Hall. Please tell me you didn't visit?'

'I don't believe my personal life has anything to do with you,' responded Grace sharply.

'But you're unhurt?' enquired the driver from the front of the vehicle. He had obviously become aware of her increasingly emotional state, but still it felt like an unusual line of enquiry.

'I'm fine. Thank you.'

The driver continued in silence, still looking concerned. Fortunately, distraction appeared in the form of a text from Maya.

"Gracie -- Please tell me that you're safe. Ethan phoned up worried about you. That tosspot reckons he left you out on the moor alone last night. If that's true, I could merrily strangle him and might still end up doing so. Please tell me you're okay? I will pick you up from anywhere you need me to? X"

With a grateful smile, Grace quickly sent a return text to her best friend, informing her that she was fine and on her way back home now. She concluded that strangling Ethan was optional, but not essential. Then Grace sat back in the seat, closed her eyes, and tried not to imagine the rest of her life without Benedict in it. Only when they'd finally reached the outskirts of town did the cab driver speak up once more.

'If you don't mind, I'd like to drop you in the town square. Will you be able to make your way safely home from there?'

'I...um...yes thank you,' replied Grace, obviously confused. 'But may I ask why you don't wish to drive me home?'

'If I know where you live, then Benedict Canis might be able to find his way to your home,' he admitted, looking sombre.

Grace didn't bother to contradict the man's assumption, for at last she knew Benedict's surname; Canis. A name he shared with his house.

'And would that be so bad?' queried Grace, thinking of the intense pleasure she'd enjoyed throughout the time they'd spent together. How could something so good possibly be considered a bad thing?

'It could be,' he admitted, pulling up in the town square. 'Trust me, it's best this way. Think of me as a friend looking out for your wellbeing.'

'Fine,' she nodded, determined that any amount of scare tactics wouldn't change the way she felt about Benedict. After all, this stranger didn't know him like she did. She wasn't going to argue about a man's character with a cabbie whom she'd only just met. Grabbing her purse, she opened it. 'How much do I owe you?'

'Nothing,' he replied. 'The bill has already been settled.'

Benedict again, Grace thought, providing further evidence of what a good guy he actually was.

'Thank you very much,' she replied, shuffling her way out of the vehicle.

'Don't go looking for him,' ordered the cabbie in a rather sinister tone, just as Grace was closing the door. 'No good will ever come of it. There are dangers at Canis Hall that you cannot even begin to comprehend.'

It was such a bizarre and rather impertinent instruction that Grace turned back to argue, only to find that he'd already started to drive away. That amounted to two people in under an hour, warning her away from Benedict. And one of those was the man himself. There were some serious undercurrents going on here, which she was obviously failing to grasp.

Grace had always been guilty of extreme stubbornness, ever since she'd been a child. The more she was told not to do something, the more she wanted to do it. But this time, it wasn't just stubbornness; it was a lot more than that. Benedict had awoken a hunger inside of her. A need. A yearning. And something told Grace that the only person on this earth capable of quelling that lust was Benedict Canis himself. As she walked through the high street, past bustling shops and chattering crowds, which felt a million miles away from the past twenty-four hours she'd lived through, Grace made herself a promise. She would return to Canis Hall one day soon, and re-live the intense pleasure she'd shared with her exquisite lover. Except next time the roles would be reversed and she'd have Benedict Canis on his knees, begging her for mercy.

***

BENEDICT

With his head in his hands, Benedict rubbed his face, trying to restore some kind of order after Grace had dared to enter his peaceful mind and scatter his thoughts and emotions to the wind. He'd spent his entire life in this quiet corner of England, keeping himself to himself while living a life of luxury in his mansion. Situated far enough from any major settlement to avoid concerning gazes, his family had largely enjoyed enough space and freedom to simply exist, albeit secretly. And as for the worries and rules governing other people's daily lives, they barely concerned him.

Benedict didn't subscribe to politics, social media, world news or any of the other minor wranglings of everyday life. He lived within the law of the land, but that was as far as his integration into society went, for he held a wider view than most humans on this planet could ever begin to contemplate. But although there were many incredible benefits to being Benedict Canis, it wasn't all roses. For as far as Benedict was concerned, the one curse of his heritage meant he was pretty much destined to be forever alone. Alone, that was, if you ignored the exception of his ever-intrusive and generally interfering family.

Hearing the front door creak open, Benedict huffed loudly, not even bothering to look up. The sound was followed by a set of heavy footsteps making their way towards his location in the kitchen.

'So, she escaped from Canis Hall alive, did she?' queried the well-built, heavily bearded man who'd just walked into the room. Without even so much as a pause, he strode straight across to the refrigerator and started to rifle inside it for a suitable snack. 'Bravo, particularly when she smelt so good.' Slowly, Benedict looked up, as though it was taking every ounce of effort to do so.

'Ha bloody ha,' he grunted, before slumping back in his chair. He might not be fully human, but he still maintained some standards. 'To what do I owe the pleasure, Caxton?'

'I thought I'd better check in on you,' the visitor replied. Having perused the shelves for a short while, he settled on a large leg of ham. Placing it on the work surface, he then selected a devilishly sharp knife. 'Rosa raced around to my house this morning in quite a panic. Said in all the decades she'd been with us, she'd never seen you in such a state. Something about you going all gooey-eyed over a mere girl?'

'Hey! Don't talk to me like that!' snarled Benedict, his anger evident. But Caxton only looked mildly concerned. Instead, he expertly carved a thin slice of ham, feeding it into his mouth with the point of the knife, before returning to carve another. 'Show some fucking respect!'

'Apologies, brother mine,' the slightly younger man replied with a dip of his head. 'It won't happen again.'

'Hmph!' grunted Benedict, knowing full well that it would. Their eldest brother had always held the Alpha position, but since his somewhat untimely demise, that station had shifted across to Benedict, who'd previously been the second in command. 'You're forgiven, so long as you keep yourself and your brothers in line in the future.'

'They're your brothers too,' Caxton drawled, flipping a sliced piece of ham across the counter to land beside Benedict's hand. Instantly picking it up, he tore at the flesh gladly.

'A fact of which I am fully aware. But you seriously need to take more care. One day, you'll take a step too far, and then we'll all find ourselves utterly screwed, regardless of the protection we're currently blessed enough to enjoy.'

'Aye aye, Captain,' replied Caxton, sending his elder brother a mock salute. Flipping a final slice of ham into his mouth, he chewed it thoughtfully.