omens, no disturbing or foreboding messages. Merely an augmented connection between me and Mason. Pure unadulterated pleasure, as his darting tongue induces one uncontrollable release after another.
At least, it felt that way for a moment.
I look down to admire Mason as he gratifies me, but it’s not Mason anymore. It’s not even the half-man, half-wolf version of Mason. It’s another man between my legs. Somebody I’ve never seen before—not at first blush, anyway.
He’s larger than Mason, bulky and robust, a barrel-chested man with grey-streaked hair. The grey hair doesn’t make him look old so much as distinguished . The chiseled, handsome features don’t hurt either. Still, it’s his eyes I want to see. I can’t see them because they’re closed, focused on the task in front of him. Like Mason, he’s too busy eating me out.
The grey-haired man must sense my gaze, because he finally looks up and makes eye contact. That’s when I recognize him, but not because I’ve seen him before. I haven’t. I recognize him because I’ve seen his eyes before, gleaming red and vicious in the dark. In a cave. In Norway. This is the wolf I saw Sylvia nestled against, but in his human shape.
Dammit. Why can’t anything be simple?
7. Swapped out for Seconds
I don’t have the heart to tell Mason, or stop him, but I’m picturing another man with his tongue between my legs. The vision has taken over, so I can’t help it, but the strangest part? It’s not a man I’ve ever seen before. Well, not in human form, at any rate.
If I can trust my visions, and I do, I saw this man earlier today during my last orgasm with Mason. Except I didn’t see him as I do now. I saw a wolf. Presumably the wolf this man can become.
The details are all suspiciously well aligned. Mason was turned by a wolf with red eyes that Sylvia drove away… as a teenage girl. That was sixteen years ago in Norway.
My last vision flew over land and sea to where I think Scandinavia is located. It could have been Norway, but the vision didn’t stop there. It flew into a burrow where there was a massive wolf. A wolf who wasn’t alone. Sylvia was there with him, nestled in his fur.
I still haven’t come up with an answer for that part. It’s hard to be sure of anything with my visions, but I’m sure Sylvia and this wolf connected somehow.
That’s when the red-eyed wolf saw me. At least, I think he saw me. It felt like I was actually there at the time. If I had to guess at what my vision is trying to tell me both then and now, I’d say that whomever this man is, he’s coming. Soon.
I clench my eyes shut and try to erase has face from my mind. Maybe if I focus hard enough, I can dispel the vision.
“Are you all right?”
It’s Mason’s voice. His human voice.
I open my eyes again to see that he’s already changed back. That was fast.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
His chin is glistening with my juices.
“No. Not at all. Just the opposite. You have me in a lather.”
Well, you and a strange man with red eyes , I think.
Mason smiles. “I can taste how excited you are.”
“Oh gods!” I say, covering my face. “How horrible am I?”
“Not horrible at all. It’s like drinking nectar. And the scent gets me riled up.”
“I feel like a waterfall down there.”
“Good,” he says, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Mason wags his tongue against my breach to prove his point.
“That’s because you’re crazy,” I tell him. “Why don’t you come up here instead?”
He does. You don’t have to ask Mason twice.
The familiar weight of his body presses against mine. I can feel his length sliding along my leg. It clearly has one thought. Find the warm place and disappear inside that moist sheath. My nethers are no less single-minded.
I want nothing more than to swallow up Mason and bask in his heat. He obliges my unspoken urgency, sliding into me effortlessly. No guidance required and no resistance offered. Mason
At least, it felt that way for a moment.
I look down to admire Mason as he gratifies me, but it’s not Mason anymore. It’s not even the half-man, half-wolf version of Mason. It’s another man between my legs. Somebody I’ve never seen before—not at first blush, anyway.
He’s larger than Mason, bulky and robust, a barrel-chested man with grey-streaked hair. The grey hair doesn’t make him look old so much as distinguished . The chiseled, handsome features don’t hurt either. Still, it’s his eyes I want to see. I can’t see them because they’re closed, focused on the task in front of him. Like Mason, he’s too busy eating me out.
The grey-haired man must sense my gaze, because he finally looks up and makes eye contact. That’s when I recognize him, but not because I’ve seen him before. I haven’t. I recognize him because I’ve seen his eyes before, gleaming red and vicious in the dark. In a cave. In Norway. This is the wolf I saw Sylvia nestled against, but in his human shape.
Dammit. Why can’t anything be simple?
7. Swapped out for Seconds
I don’t have the heart to tell Mason, or stop him, but I’m picturing another man with his tongue between my legs. The vision has taken over, so I can’t help it, but the strangest part? It’s not a man I’ve ever seen before. Well, not in human form, at any rate.
If I can trust my visions, and I do, I saw this man earlier today during my last orgasm with Mason. Except I didn’t see him as I do now. I saw a wolf. Presumably the wolf this man can become.
The details are all suspiciously well aligned. Mason was turned by a wolf with red eyes that Sylvia drove away… as a teenage girl. That was sixteen years ago in Norway.
My last vision flew over land and sea to where I think Scandinavia is located. It could have been Norway, but the vision didn’t stop there. It flew into a burrow where there was a massive wolf. A wolf who wasn’t alone. Sylvia was there with him, nestled in his fur.
I still haven’t come up with an answer for that part. It’s hard to be sure of anything with my visions, but I’m sure Sylvia and this wolf connected somehow.
That’s when the red-eyed wolf saw me. At least, I think he saw me. It felt like I was actually there at the time. If I had to guess at what my vision is trying to tell me both then and now, I’d say that whomever this man is, he’s coming. Soon.
I clench my eyes shut and try to erase has face from my mind. Maybe if I focus hard enough, I can dispel the vision.
“Are you all right?”
It’s Mason’s voice. His human voice.
I open my eyes again to see that he’s already changed back. That was fast.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
His chin is glistening with my juices.
“No. Not at all. Just the opposite. You have me in a lather.”
Well, you and a strange man with red eyes , I think.
Mason smiles. “I can taste how excited you are.”
“Oh gods!” I say, covering my face. “How horrible am I?”
“Not horrible at all. It’s like drinking nectar. And the scent gets me riled up.”
“I feel like a waterfall down there.”
“Good,” he says, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Mason wags his tongue against my breach to prove his point.
“That’s because you’re crazy,” I tell him. “Why don’t you come up here instead?”
He does. You don’t have to ask Mason twice.
The familiar weight of his body presses against mine. I can feel his length sliding along my leg. It clearly has one thought. Find the warm place and disappear inside that moist sheath. My nethers are no less single-minded.
I want nothing more than to swallow up Mason and bask in his heat. He obliges my unspoken urgency, sliding into me effortlessly. No guidance required and no resistance offered. Mason
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