Havermouth High School, Five Years Before
Aislen wasn’t surprised when Rhett stepped out from the alley between the classrooms as she reached the art room, his eyes to the ground and his hands in his pockets – but his casual demeanour did not fool her for a moment. She hesitated, and he lifted his eyes, meeting hers, and the expression in them caused her breath to catch and her clit to throb.
She felt like Eve, she thought, irresistibly drawn to the apple.
She crossed to him, and he caught her by the elbows, pulling her flush to him, his body lean and hard against hers. He stepped back into the privacy of the alley way, pushing her up against the wall. He lifted her bag off her shoulder and lowered it to the ground without breaking their gazes.
His eyes were intense and the almost oily iridescent sheen that she had come to recognize as a sign of werewolfism reflected off their darkness. He buried his fingers into her curls, with a sigh, before leaning forward, the heat of his lips resting against hers, petal soft, the metal of his piercing warm from his body, and then he leaned into the kiss, his hand against her back pulling her hips tightly to his as his tongue stroked into her mouth.
Her mind filled with his thoughts, the taste of her on his tongue, the feel of her soft breast compressing against his chest, the clean sweetness of her skin, how his body demanded that he sate his need on her, the desire overriding all logical thought, something far more powerful than he had experienced before, addictive like nicotine, lighting up his mind like alcohol…
Her hands closed behind his back, her breath stolen from her lungs as her body gave, although she was unsure if it was to her or his lust. He scooped her thigh up around his hips, gathering her skirt up so that when he ground up against her, only her panties and his jeans separated them. His fingers hooked under her panty elastic, kneading into her arse as he thrusted in a semblance of sex.
She moaned, lost in the intense images of sex that spilled from him into her, his tongue on her clit, his hands on her breasts, their skin sweaty and pressed together, her moans as he thrusted into her, holding her hips tight as he ground so deep that he could feel his tip meet her cervix…
“Yes,” he breathed against her lips. “Mine.”
The transportable shook as the teacher let the class in, but they were too caught in their lust to pay any attention, the kiss building between them as he dragged her thigh higher, the coarse fabric against her sensitive inner thigh scraping, so that his cock rested directly against her clit, and he rubbed them both with every thrust of his hips.
She could feel his fly through the thin fabric of her panties, and it was incredibly erotic to think that, should it come down, his cock would be so close to penetrating her. She felt the pressure build within her and threw her head back with a gasp as it broke through her, every bubble around her Popping in a crescendo of mental noise so that she did not know if she cried out. His hand closed over her mouth and his breath was hot against her throat as he panted out his own orgasm, his cock in his hand and the strike of his cum on her panties and thigh.
His orgasm overwhelmed her, experienced through him as if it were her own.
Marking her, the phrase tumbled through her mind from him. Marking her his.
“Are you on the pill?” He breathed against her skin.
She swallowed hard, her body still singing from the surprise of a double orgasm, the second experienced vicariously, her mind washed out with the white noise of all the thoughts around them, almost blocking out his so that she did not realise his intent until he used his fingers to gather his cum, and pushed it under her panties, wiping it over her clit, through her folds, before pushing his fingers inside of her.
“Mine,” he repeated, with his wolf in his eyes.
Eight points, he thought, for being the first to get his cum in her, though he’d lose half a point for it not being by fucking her. Fingering her added three. Kissing her one. Dry humping her into orgasm was another two, which would put him clearly in the lead of Heath who had only scored a kiss, and Cameron who had held her breasts and put his fingers in her first…
“Oh god,” she stared at him aghast. “This is a fucking game?” She thumped the heels of her hands against his chest to push him off of her and grabbed up her bag. His face was a study in astonishment. “One point for a kiss, two for grabbing my breasts, three for fingering me… You three are sick fucks. Stay the fuck away from me, Rhett Salem.”
She stormed away, weighed down by her book-heavy school bag. She heard him exclaim, pulling his jeans together and grabbing his bag as he set off in pursuit. He managed to catch up to her at the school gate, tugging her back and wrapping his arms around her.
“Aislen,” he said trying to kiss her, his kisses falling to her cheeks and the corners of her mouth as she squirmed to avoid them. “It’s not what you think. It’s not what you think… Calm down and talk to me. I don’t know what it is about you…” his voice softened as she stilled. “But you’re… You’re like us. Heath, Cameron, and me… different.”
She swallowed hard. There was a vulnerability, a craving that communicated itself to her through his touch, and a fragile, glowing core of… attachment. She couldn’t quite call it love, but it wasn’t far away, and its glow was warm and infused her with a floating feeling of bliss. “How are you different?” She barely breathed it. “You’re just like the rest of your kind… The rest of the werewolves.”
His indrawn breath shuddered through them both. “You know?” he exhaled the words, shocked. “You know!”