At least he understood the one word, dare I say the most important word on this earth. Cawfeeeee. I inhaled the toast and carried my coffee with me as I walked around the house, looking for something hot and wolfie to ravage. When I heard rock music bouncing down a corridor. Following the sound, I came upon a door left slightly open. I reached for the knob, and saw a set of stairs leading down into a basement. Along with the music, now I could hear a metallic clanging sound.
The training room was medium sized, enough for a few treadmills, free weights, a couple of heavy punching bags hanging. There was also a speed bag, next to a boxing ring. The blaring rock music echoed off the white walls. I sat down at the bottom of the stairs, cradling the coffee in my hand. My excited pupils widened to drink in the vision of Orin – shirtless. My smile grew wider. He was hammering a black heavy punching bag, raining punches and kicks with an intensity that seemed inhuman. I marveled at Orin. A mountain of muscle; bulging biceps, firm square shoulders, rippling abs and big, powerful legs.
I looked in on my inner fire, and it seemed to be fanning itself. Was it declaring Orin spicy? Or just trying to grow larger, as fires tended to do. You’re weird, little... guy? Girl? Do soul fires even have genders?
Whatever. Eventually, Orin tapered down his jabs and hooks, slowing to a stop and exhaling heavily. Without even facing me, he huffed “Enjoying the show princess?”
“How did you know I was here? I didn’t say anything.”
“You don’t have to be a wolf shifter to smell coffee from across the room. But I could smell it from across the house.” Orin chuckled, a lower, gruffer sound than Weylyn’s. “I could smell you, too. You’re very... musky.” He began to towel off the sweat dripping from his practically steaming body.
Still revved up from the way Weylyn left me buzzing, I decided to have a little fun. I stood up, put my empty mug on a side table, and walked up to Orin. Making big eyes at him, I ran my finger down his arm. “My Orin. What big arms you have.” He smiled.
“The better to pick you up with my dear.” Then he seized me, tossed me over his shoulder, and carried me off, right into the boxing ring.
He flipped me down on my feet. I had to fix my shirt, as the girls had briefly jumped ship. His red gym shorts were low. Way too low. Drawing my eyes right to that gorgeously bulging mystery. “Why, what big—” I flicked my gaze up, and finished “…eyes you have.”
“The better to see every square inch of you, my dear.” His hungry eyes roamed ravenously, all over my body. He started to circle me, like a predator who just found his next tasty morsel. Then, his eyes started to glow an unnatural blue, as he adjusted his shorts, needing a bit more room for his tentpole. He stopped right behind me, placing his hands on my arms, lowering his head to enjoy a little taste as he licked the edge of my ear. I could not hold back a growling moan, as his tongue traced an electrified thrill down my neck, and back to my ear, for a playful nip at my earlobe.
I bit my lip.
The next bite was a little harder and sent a shiver down my spine. “My what sharp teeth you have,” came out of me in a husky whisper.
“The better to eat you with, my dear.” His voice was laced with excitement, as he moved to the other ear. Gently, he turned my head, and kissed me deeply.
“I hope your diet isn’t restricted to eating ears.”
It wasn’t. His next move was to lift me up by my waist, as if I was made of balsa wood, and extending his arms straight up. He then lowered me slowly, his head going under my red skirt, and his mouth finding my panties. His clever tongue soon found a way to pull them aside, and found the prize…
He burrowed in, pressing me hard against his mouth. With my legs over his meaty shoulders, and his hands supporting by back, I grasped the back of his head and pushed it greedily. Then I got a better idea.
“What small shorts you’re wearing,” my husky voice murmured.
“The better for ripping them off me, my dear.”
And then, with his apparently limitless strength, he rotated me 180 degrees. My crotch was still at his face level, but now I was upside down, with my own face at the level of his shorts. I quickly pushed them off his hips, so they dropped down around his ankles. As his mouth and tongue continued to pleasure me, I got to work on returning the favor.
Time stopped, or stretched, or expanded… it had no measure.
But then, as we both hit the very peak of excitement, the magic spell of overwhelming lust was broken by a sound… Heavy footsteps.
As someone’s feet clomped down the stairs, Orin put me down, and pulled up his shorts (which needed all the elastic in the waist to stretch out far enough to make it over the tree bough between his legs). I straightened my panties, and brushed the red dress down demurely, hoping it would cover the dripping evidence underneath it.
Just in time. Weylyn turned the corner, dressed in workout clothes. Walking toward the ring. “I was looking for you, Keira. How are you feeling?”
“Flustered,” I huffed out, my breath still ragged, and wondering if my face looked as red hot as I felt.
“What?” he said, and looked at Orin. He noticed evidence that I couldn’t hide, because it was holding his brother’s shorts out like a tent pole. He shook his head. “Oh, I see. You were giving her a workout?”
Orin
