001 | the lone wolf

[partnerinheels]

It's not a small town she stops in, those are always too tight, too close knit to go unnoticed by the locals. Strangers weren't accepted for much longer than passing through. They may sound polite, but that's just a Southern thing. Words didn't always mean what they traditionally meant.

That and a woman of her skin tone stood out like a sore thumb in most backwater towns. Big cities were a little too hectic for her, too many people and too many distracting and irritating noises clamoring over her every second of every day. It gave her insomnia and put her in a worse mood because of it. No, she found that mid to larger sized towns suited her needs nicely. Small cities did okay too, depending on the type. She needed enough diversity to blend into the natural ebb and flow of tourism or business affairs.

In reality, big cities would be best, but she just hated the damn headaches. No one ever taught her to control her curse. As always, Sheva had found a way to teach herself and survive to the best of her abilities. On one hand, she's still alive as a lone wolf, but on the other, she's everywhere in near every aspect of her life.

Her control is shaky at best, her life is mobile, and she's become a loner in every shape of the word. With the curse, Sheva feels as if she's lost herself to the beast, but she knows it could be worse. It could always be worse.

It had been a long drive and by the time she gets into this new town, somewhere in Louisiana, Sheva's exhausted. Still the night is far from over. It's near enough to a full moon that she's just itching to find four legs and run off all this pent up energy accumulated from being stuck in her vehicle for hours at one time. Road rage and traffic had extrapolated her nasty mood.

Once she's gathered her supplies, Sheva's in her truck and off to the site she had scoped out days prior. It should be well outside this area's pack territory, or so she's heard from multiple sources. Some were reliable, others had given her old, expired news.

The access road is just as old it seems, poorly maintained and full of standing water and bumpy landscape, but she makes it safely. It's thrown in park as she's hopping out of the truck, the keys secured safely in a compartment underneath the truck. Her clothing's hastily thrown in the back seat, and she's already sweating as her skin itches and burns.

Her change isn't pleasant, it never has been pleasant for her. There's no control and she chokes back a scream of pain, moaning loudly as bones crack and muscles tear and shifts. Deep, rusty black fur replaces her mocha skin, she'd cry if it would help, but Sheva refuses to give into the pain like that. It's over faster than it feels, and she stretches and shakes the ache and pain into something more manageable.

At least she managed to teach herself something.

As soon as she can run, Sheva takes off into the forest, running without discretion or abandon. She's nowhere near the pack's territory, right? Stealth shouldn't be an issue. Stealth will come later when she's hungry. For now, she's easy to track and find for any wolf (or hunter) worth their salt.

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[alwaysathief]

She shifts under him and he should have realized what was happening, but he's left reacting in surprise as she topples him onto his back. The dig of rocks and grass against his skin, a reminder they're out here in the open, makes him groan and fight to tug her close enough for another heated kiss, welcoming more bites to his already swollen and bruised lips. Her slower pace has him growling and huffing, fingers pressing hard into her thighs and hips as if that might encourage her to speed up.

Her skin glistens in the moonlight, giving her an ethereal quality that's almost distracting. His own hair is starting to stick his forehead, a sheen of sweat quickly spreading over his own body. His breaths are already ragged as he tries to tune into her rhythm and rock his hips up to meet her, panting and gasping in pleasure as they meet.

The roughness outweighs his desire to go faster, focusing on harder as he growls into the kiss and their teeth click. He breaks it, tilting his head back and pressing it into the ground as he looks up at her, eyes dark and unnatural.

[partnerinheels]

They encourage her alright, encourage her to growl low in her throat and keep the pace exactly where she wants it. Her knees press into the ground, the pain of rough ground and grit serving to help her maintain control. Otherwise, she'd likely allow herself to give into the pace he obviously desires, but she wants to make this last, this feeling of freedom and the intense connection she feels to him and herself.

She does give into his insistence on the kiss. It's what she wants, her one hand moving to firmly grab the hair at the back of his neck, pulling him against her until she's decided she's had enough, tugging him back so she can nip and bite a rough trail of marks just under his jaw and along his neck. Eventually she can't help herself to return to his hungry mouth, licking over the reddening skin she's just visited, renewed in vigor from his taste.

As he pulls back she pants, chest rumbling in pleasure at the sight of him beneath her with his gaze in a storm, each hard thrust causing her body to shudder and give further into the animal. An entirely familiar but somehow foreign feeling wells deeper inside her, brewing stronger with each passing moment of carnal affections. Her hand tugs him back up as she leans back, urging him to sit up and press closer to her with an accompanying series of huffs and low whines. It's not very alpha, but she wants him like this, pressed close drinking the other in with every sense she can manage.

[alwaysathief]

He continues to paw and knead at her, hands moving over her body to press against everywhere he can reach. It's too rough to be called a caress and too needy to be curiosity. He isn't exploring her body, he's simply doing everything he can to keep himself preoccupied, to try and stave off the need he's feeling while hopefully coaxing a more from her.

He tumbles greedily into the kiss. It's an equally good distraction and he whines heatedly into it, a low hummed moan muffled against her lips. He doesn't protest when she breaks the kiss, but his unhindered moans break the hush of the night air, loud and unabashed.

He's close and he can feel every little movement, ever shudder. He works himself up with a little difficulty, no longer able to move his hips into her hardly at all. His hands settle on her ass in an attempt to keep them both moving, pressing deeper. She's met with shaky, breathy groans, but his mouth is immediately pushed to her skin, anywhere he can reach, little nips and kisses across her collar bone, neck and shoulder, needy and feverish until he simply buries his face into her neck and pants against her skin, breath uneven and quick, his control slipping.

[partnerinheels]

At this point, everything is need. Everything he does to distract himself simply fuels her body further down the rabbit hole that feels like her building orgasm. Her vocalizations encourage his grabby, rough behavior. To feel desired with such passion while being so primal now and even more so earlier.

The fact that they're in the damn forest hasn't escaped her either, still itching at the back of her mind through smells and the feel of ground beneath her, a strong background to the scents of them both together. His taste has her eager to drag her lips against him in any way possible. Tongue drags along the lines of his neck to indulge in his sweat, nipping occasionally when the rocking of hips jump her closer to the impending orgasm, and just tasting the scent of him while she pulls ragged breaths close to his skin.

He may not have the leverage, but she's grinding roughly against him while keeping a hard pace, and he's doing everything right as far as her mind and body are concerned. She wants to tell him she's close, but why waste words when she can roughly bite his shoulder, a hand slipping between them to shove herself over the building edge. Sheva growls savagely into his skin, grip on his flesh tightening instinctively to keep him there as she huffs out noises of uncontrolled pleasure against his skin, her spasms strong and steady around him.

At some point she stops biting and pushes her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, gripping it so she can ride out the last of her tremors with her feral gaze entrenched in his.

[alwaysathief]

She tightens around him and that's it, all the frantic movements reach a fever pitch and it feels like all his muscles seize up, like she's knocked the wind out of him. All he can smell or feel is her as intense pleasure rocks him through a powerful orgasm, and he's lost in her eyes, lips parted in a silent shout. He's tugging at her hair hard, fingertips pressing into her skin, grabbing and pulling at her but moving her nowhere, like he just needs something to cling to so he doesn't get swept away.

His body relaxes just enough for him to take a shuddering breath and moan hoarsely, the sound loud and echoey through the hushed swamps.

The electrified energy ebbs out of him quickly, leaving him rocking his hips into her to ride through the waves of calming pleasure. There's the quietest hint of things what will ache later as his damp skin cools faster than his still overheated body, and he realizes absently that he's stroking her hair.

Pulling her closer, he brushes light kisses across her lips and jaw, hands moving over her body as they both slow down and bask in hazy pleasure.

[partnerinheels]

The tugging and rough handling elicit growls between her other, wild noises of pleasure that peak as she does and ebb naturally so soft chuffing noises at the back of her throat and shaky breaths. She falls easily into his eyes, feeling something pull within her as she watches him--as they watch each other--tumble over that precipice together. It's not something she's ever done, nor wanted to do on the grounds that it was too intimate, too close. It's still both those things, but she hadn't held back that night in the muggy warmth of the swamp, and there's a different sort of warmth in her. She presumes it's because they're both werewolves and moves on with it. Best not to linger those thoughts anywhere.

Her hands loosen their grip to ghost along his sweaty skin, light and tender especially over the places her teeth had left marks and bruises, all while her hips rock lazily against the last waves of her own dwindling orgasm. She's sore, or will be once this fogs lifts and tomorrow comes, but for now she's content.

Sheva finds herself leaning into his gentle touch of his hands, savoring the affections of his lips with soft kisses of her own, again mirroring him. She appears confused, almost startled at the kind treatment after such a rough tumble in the swamp. They're strangers and they still haven't spoken one word to one another. It's strange one one hand, but feels just right on the other.

Her body shudders as it cools and he slips along still sensitive or ticklish areas. Eventually she breaks her face away from his to lean and dote apologetic licks and kisses to that rough bite to his shoulder done in the heat of passion. There's even a soft whimper in her voice, barely audible. She's sorry, not used to being so wild and free during sex. He'll be okay, right?

[alwaysathief]

His movements are slow, lazy and unhurried, not ready to stop yet just because they've both climaxed. He happily presses against her lips, lips curled in a soft, content smile. Her scent is still overwhelming and he's no less entranced by her, feeling compelled to keep touching her, keep tasting her. In the hazy aftermath, it's almost easy to close his eyes and will this moment to stretch on forever.

He watches in curiosity when she pulls away, smile widening when she laps at the bruises and bitemarks she inflicted. Obviously, they're not something he's overly concerned with. With a quiet laugh, he shifts under her, nuzzling his way back under her lips again so their mouths meet, so she's kissing him instead of the bruises.

If that doesn't reassure her that the bruises and scratches are all welcome, he's not sure what will.

Pulling her into a deeper kiss, he rolls, guiding her down and them both onto their sides in the grass, his arm slipped under her head so she can rest on it.

[partnerinheels]

She basks in the afterglow, still intoxicated by the scent of him and them hanging heavy in the air as well as clinging to their skin. Lingering this long with him still inside her is an entirely new experience for her, and the way her body still twitches around him, little aftershocks murmuring through her like heavy, coaxing whispers. Usually she just rolls over, gets dressed and gets the hell out of dodge. This is new, and she feels as if this is someone else’s experience because it feels so right.

Her movements mirror his, slowly savoring his taste as she allows herself to smile and enjoy the affectionate contact. Sheva continues to touch him, pulling him close with soft, tender motions that speak to the appreciation she feels for everything. There’s no thinking about tomorrow or later that night, no words necessary in this moment. They’re just together and it feels natural.

When he laughs and nudges his face back to hers, a smile curls against his lips and brightens her eyes as they watch his, hand coming up to run through the scruff at his jaw before falling back into his lips, the heady weight of arousal threatening to cloud her mind once again.

It’s different, she realizes as he guides them both to the lush grass, slightly crushed from their exertions. It’s attraction on another level, one that incorporates who she is now, a part of her she’s been denying and fighting for years. Her one leg is slung over his hip still, keeping him close as she lays with him, eventually breaking the kiss so she can press her forehead against his and search his eyes with hers, entirely content.

[alwaysathief]

He's definitely not in any rush to move away from her, or even get up. In fact, falling asleep here, curled up in the grass, seems like a perfectly acceptable proposition. He shifts, stealing a kiss when she comes to rest her forehead on his. Oddly, there's something about it that feels just a little too personal, too invasive.

Ducking his head, he brushes his lips over her cheek and jaw before easing her down so they can intertwine and use each other to rest on. He much more keen to keep up this physical contact, trace his fingers over her warm skin, than to keep up the eye contact. There's no reason to get too attached, after all, he's sure in the morning that whoever wakes up first will quietly walk away from this and this night will just fade into memory.

He shifts again to get comfortable on the grass, letting his eyes drift closed, content in enjoying the moment and letting himself slowly sink into sleep while stroking her hair.