The Possession
Mist curled around the base of the house in the woods, it was a white Victorian with green moldings and sills and doors.
There were no houses around for a few miles, only a small, winding path just wide enough for the Jeep that was parked in the driveway.
The moon was full and glistening. It illuminated the small clearing that was surrounded on all sides by a thick forest of ancient redwood trees. A single buttery lamp shed light onto the porch.
On the top story of the house, a large shape began o stir, his clothes were sweat soaked and he had long since kicked off the blankets that once covered him. His bare chest glittered with droplets of condensation, his well-muscled chest heaved as he fought the rising tide of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him.
His once greasy hair clung to his head, and his eyes, as green as the forests that surrounded him, were wide and reflected the silver or that floated above.
"Oh, shit." He muttered, too low to be heard. He sat up, running his fingers through his wet hair,
He walked silently out of his door and across the hall; he slowed when he passed the first door on his right, his nostrils flared and his pupils dilated in a helpless show of adoration and devotion.
He opened the door and there she was. Her blonde hair was spread over the pillow and caught the glow of the moon that peeked into her open window.
He growled possessively as he looked at her. A faint breeze blew into the room and through her hair and wafted her fragrance to his waiting nose.
"A voice, deep in his mind, whispered "Mine," with satisfaction. The voice belonged to a more animalistic side of him, a voice that spoke of wind through fur and the crunch of leaves beneath paws.
He was beside her in an instant, growling with pleasure when he saw what she wore.
"Chloe," he breathed, "Wake up, Little One," a command and an endearment in one.
She sat up with a gasp and her heart fluttered weakly when she saw his face just above hers. "Derek?" her voice was sleepy and she pressed a hand to her chest to slow her frantic heart.
Her face flushed, roses and cream, when she looked down. His shirt drowned her in fabric that smelled of him, a musky scent that comforted as well as warm milk and cinnamon.
Her eyes took in the full moon, and then shot to his face. "You're changing."
He nodded and helped her up, pleases, despite his discomfort to see she wore nothing under his shirt.
He led her down the stairs, then he pinned her to the wall, as the warm light reached them. Newspaper crumpled, a new page, a new story, and a new tragedy. He peaked around the corner.
A man sat in a red armchair. He had a dressing robe on and glasses on his face. He looked to be middle aged, his eyes were tired. A newspaper covered his lap, but as Derek watched, he jerked it up to cover most of his front half and face.
He looked back to her eyes, as blue as a summer sky, or a Mediterranean sea.
She opened her pink mouth, but he gently hushed her with one large finger to her soft lips.
His eyes closed and he gritted his teeth to stop a growl as his back arched and tremors rippled through his stiffened muscles.
Her worried eyes met his when he settled back down and opened his green eyes.
He lifted her into his arms effortlessly and crept silently from shadow, to light, and back to shadow.
She worriedly frowned as shudders raced up his strong arms. He didn't put her down until he had stepped into the clear, crisp air and across the porch, then he began to run. He ran deep into the forest, as fast and sure of himself as the wind.
He finally set her down at the base of an old oak tree. She shuddered at the breeze.
Without a word, he stripped off his sweatpants and handed then to her. She pulled them on, then rolled them up til her prestine white feet showed from the her.
"How soon?" she asked breathlessly.
"Very soon," was his gruff reply. An instant later, his knees buckled and he fell, clutching the earth in his hands that grew and shrank back to fingernails in a heartbeat.
He howled as she fell to her knees beside him, crooning. Her hands tested feather light on his back, which sprouted and retracted springy black hair.
His stomach rebelled and he vomited. Over and over, as his bones changed shape.
Her soft crooning continued as he moon silently crossed her path through the midnight sky.
Minutes- or hours later, a pitch black wolf with startling green eyes lay at her feet,
"You did it, Derek!" she whispered happily. "You really did it!"
He barely heard her, his thoughts were consumed in black rage that boiled up from somewhere within him. Rage at his brother, who thought he could touch her, rage at himself for letting him, rage at her for not knowing who she belonged to, body and soul.
With a pained snarl, he shifted again, becoming a very tall, very strong, very naked man.
He grasped her by the waist and kissed her forcefully. She moaned and kissed him back, he wrapped her leg around his waist.
She felt his cock grow long and hard as he backed her up to a tree, pinning her there.
"I like my clothes on you." He whispered heatedly when she broke away from his kiss to breathe. He left a trail of kisses from her mouth to her jaw and then her neck and back.
She moaned and wove her fingers though his hair as he laved and bit and sucked on her sensitive skin, marking her. Deep down, her core began to melt and drip.
His eyes glittered like twin jewels in his harsh face. When he pulled back, she mewled in protest.
"I want to make one thing absolutely clear to you." He growled at her and for some reason, his commanding tone, the one that told her he would tolerate no disobedience, was making her even wetter.
"I own you. You are mine, mine to protect, mine to possess, mine to love." He laid her gently down on the grass. When she opened her mouth to protest his ownership, he placed a finger over her mouth. "Don't bother, Little Love, I can smell you arousal, its so… enticing. I love smelling it on you, because only I have that power over you."
He replaced his finger with his mouth. He kissed her hard, assaulting her mouth with white-hot sensation that went quicksilver to her womb. He kissed her as if she was the only one he had ever wanted to kiss. He kissed her with a force that was both fiercely protective and infinitely gentle.
"This mouth is mine, do you understand? No one else will ever kiss you, or touch you here." He kissed her one more time for emphasis, enjoying the dazed look in her eyes.
He turned his attention to her breasts. He roughly shoved his shirt up to her chin. He saw her beautiful stomach, flat and smooth, and then her breasts, petal soft, with puckered pink nipples, tight from the cold. He studied them intently before her blush caught his attention.
"Don't be embaressed, my Chloe, I love everything about you, from your stutters to your hair." He caressed the side of her precious face.
"But they're so small," she stammered, not meeting his gaze.
"Don't," he whispered lovingly, "I worship every fucking thing about you. Do you understand me? I would happily die, so you could live just one more day. Never feel embarresed or undesired, because I always love you."
She nodded. "I love you too." What else could she say to something like that?
She didn't notice when his attention shifted to her breasts, but she certainly felt it his mouth touched her belly button.
He kissed his way up and around her chest, teasing her with his talented tongue. She tried to grasp his hair and guide him to her breasts, but he snarled and pulled the shirt over and behind her head, effectively pinning her arms behind her ears.
She whimpered. "Each and every one of those sexy sounds belong to me." He growled. "You know what else is mine?" his fingers finally brushed her nipples, causing her to arch into his hands as daggers of sensation raced to the apex between her thighs. His nimble fingers retreated just as fast as they attacked.
"These" he squeezed her nipples and she exploded, moaning his name. he waited until she was finished, watching with an amused smile.
When the fireworks receded, Derek had thrown his sweatpants somewhere behind them. He knelt between her legs and pressed wet, open mouthed kisses along her thighs.
He slowly slid his nose along her slit, savoring her delicate aroma. All his…
"Derek!" she gasped. "Please! Please…" he looked up at her, and the sight of him crouching naked between her legs was the most erotic thing she had ever seen, or even imagined.
"You are beautiful when you beg." He told her. Before licking her again, then, without warning, he bit her clit hard.
"Fuck!" she groaned.
Derek had to place a warning hand on each of her knees to hold her still. His eyes glittered with amusement. "Naughty Chloe."
"Touch me, please, touch me." She gasped, begging again. His eyes twinkled with dark intent and he dipped his finger into her wetness. He groaned inwardly as her dripping walls clenched around his single digit.
He slipped in another finger and her back arched off the moss. "Oh, my God!" she groaned, eyes clenched tight, hair spread like a halo around her face.
He withdrew his fingers, "not quite God, Darling, He will never touch you like this." He told her, over her wail.
Her eyes opened to slits and watched as he lowered his face to her warm center. She cried out when he flicked her with his versatile tongue.
Once more, he raised his head to meat her pleasure-dazed eyes. "Mine," he said softly, before biting her clit, and she exploded again.
He crawled up her body and entered her before she stopped shuddering.
He felt her barrier and paused, burying his face in her throat. Her fingers threaded in his hair. "Be brave, Chloe." He told her softly, before sinking his body and his fangs into hers. He released her neck as suddenly as he pierced it.
She screamed again, this time from pain that rapidly turned into pleasure after a few expert thrusts from his hips.
Her blue eyes met his green ones and the intensity built and built until it shattered. Her womb clenched around his gushes of hot semen. Derek rested his forehead against hers for a moment before pulling on his sweatpants.
By the time she caught her breath he had wrapped her small body in his shirt and tucked her into his lap. Her hand lifted to her sore neck, and when she looked at it, she saw it was covered with congealing blood, brown in the moonlight.
"You bit me, "she accused, still too dazed to inject any inflection to her voice.
He ignored her words and used one finger to turn her face and look at him. "Your slit, and your clit are mine as well." He whispered in her ear, before licking the blood from the mark he made on her throat.
"Why'd you bite me, Derek?" Chloe asked sleepily, nuzzling into his warm body.
He sighed and she could feel it in her bones. He hugged her closer, "I'm so sorry, Chloe, I meant to talk to you before I bit you. I just claimed you officially. The Mark will heal." He brushed a butterfly-soft kiss over it. "but it will never fade, you will always bear my Mark as long as I live. The Mating Mark is a physical manifestation on my possession of you as my mate. It infuses you with my scent, to warn other werewolves away. It will forever bind us.
"In some ways, it does my job for me, I would advise you to hug Simon or any other male, no matter your relationship, the chemicals in the Mark would react badly to their testosterone and it would become… uncomfortable. Not only will it piss me off, but it would burn hotter every moment.
"I am so possessive now because I found my full wolf. It is my job to protect you, so please try not to be too angry with me, it is a show of love from me to you."
He hugged her and stood up. "Sleep now, Angel. I will protect you, always."
His soothing rumble was the last thing she heard before sinking into dreamless sleep.