Marked

Peter's POV
My room is dark. The bedside lamp casts a pool of light at the far end of the room. Illuminating the double bed that has been turned down by room service. The white sheet gleams slightly in the dim light. I can see the pale grey carpet, the circle of light reminds me of the moon. It is like an omen, a blessing from the Goddess.

The door to the bathroom is dark and gaping as we pass it, a giant maw. I am glad that her head is in my chest, that she faces away from it… No darkness should intrude in her life if I can prevent it, so I carry her towards the light.

A dim glow also comes through the windows. I hadn’t closed the curtains earlier, and the pale mint green curtains frame the multi-paned openings, revealing the snow falling more heavily, large white flakes drifting from the sky towards the street below. Like a giant snow globe, the world is quiet and muffled. A feeling of unrealness fills the room.

The air is heavy with the magic of the moment, and we pause. I hold my life, my salvation in my arms. She is snuggled into me, watching the snow fall, mesmerised by its beauty.

Then the female in my arms wriggles, breaking the spell, in the most delightful way.

‘Are you going to put me down, you big galoot?’ she murmurs into my neck. Before gently kissing it.

A shiver licks through me, sparks spreading from the kiss, driven by her warm breath.

I walk closer to the bed, then gently lower her feet to the floor. She looks up at me and strokes the side of my face. Her hand moves round to the back of my head, encouraging me to bring her in for another kiss.

I start gently, but she is insistent, her tongue invading my mouth, wrestling with my tongue, filling me with the taste of honey, cinnamon and coffee.
The kiss ends, her lips swollen and red from the passion we had already shared. She looks up at me through her lashes, her fingers reaching shyly for the buttons of my shirt.

‘I have always dreamed of you in this moment, in this shirt,’ she says thickly. Her words make no sense, the shirt is brand new, and a colour I don’t usually wear. But as the statement doesn’t demand an answer I just let it slide.

My concentration is on standing still and letting her undo my shirt. Her fingers tremble on the buttons, brushing my skin accidentally as she moves from one fastening to the next. She is only half way down when I lose all patience and shuck it off over my head.

She pauses, looking at my chest, suddenly self doubt fills me… Will she find me attractive? I am a werewolf, so I have body hair, something I am aware isn’t in vogue.

I needn’t worry, the attraction is clear, as she licks her lips, before reaching out with one finger and trailing it down my body…. from my neck to the waistband of my jeans, following the contours of my body, trailing through the hair on my chest.

I shudder in response, which makes her smile foxily, and repeat the gesture.

‘Emma,’ I warn her.

‘What?’ she responds cheekily.

‘If you keep that up, I won’t be able to contain myself. I want this to be perfect for you.’

I grab her hands holding them above her head in one hand, then pull the zipper of her frock with the other. I take the opportunity to shower her neck with kisses and to inhale her scent deep into my lungs.

I release her arms and ease the dress over her shoulders. Gravity takes it and it slides away, over her curves to land at her feet like a pool of blood in the half light.

She is revealed to me in a matching bra and pantie combo, with stockings and those sexy little boots.

I step towards her and then lick, kiss and nibble down her body.

First the kisses trail down her neck and along her collar bone, she writhes against me. My dick twitches in his confinement, desperate to escape the confines of my jeans and boxers. But this is about her not me, and I want to worship her body.

My mouth reaches her breasts, her nipples clearly visible through the black lace of her bra. I unclip her bra, freeing her perfect breasts. She looks at me coy, shy, unsure… Goddess she is so hot, caged by my body.

I lower my head and take a nipple in my mouth, grazing it with my teeth… my tongue swirling round the hard nub. Sparks of pleasure filled my mouth. I move across so her other nipple won’t feel left out. I kiss the pearly white skin of her breasts, biting and sucking, leaving a trail of hickeys across them.

Her hands explore my back, stroking and clawing, as she goes. Stoking the fire in my balls.

I trail my fingers down to the top of her panties, stroking her soft skin, admiring and tracing the silver lines from childbirth. Up and down I caress her; from her nipples to her still covered mound. Her eyes are half closed, her pupils dilated, her breathing fast and shallow, interspersed with small moans.

‘Beautiful,’ I state in a voice that brooks no argument. I feather kisses on the silver marks.

‘Do you like this?’ I ask, my voice deep and low. ‘Do you want me to continue? I will stop if you ask me.’ I prayed that she won’t, my control is becoming more and more strained by the second.

‘Yes, Pe-ter,’ she writhes against me. ‘Don’t stop, pl-ease’ she gasps.

‘Your wish is my command kitten.’

My hand slides into her panties, past her clit, rubbing her slit, already moist with arousal. I wet my fingers, before tracing back to her pleasure button and rubbing my lubricated fingers against it.

She cants her hips, moving in time with my fingers, greedy for my touch, a moan escaping her lips.

I watch her face, the arousal, the pleasure, the passion written across her face. The smell of her arousal was like nectar to me. I move down her body; kneeling with my head level with her sweet, sweet mound.

Another pause. Just to inhale her. I want this moment to be etched into my memory forever. I want this to be special, to mark the start of our union.

Slowly I remove her black lace knickers. Inserting my thumbs at the top and pushing them down, past her knees to her booted feet and crumpled dress. Constantly trailing kisses and hickeys along her inner thighs. Then I bury my face into her womanhood.

Her hands reached down, entangling in my hair, pulling slightly at it. My hands grasp her bum cheeks, pulling her, tilting her to improve my access.

I lick her slit, sliding my tongue inside her, tasting her. The musk of arousal combined with the coffee-cinnamon-honey-magic of her scent driving me and Braon wild. My nose grazes against her clit, already swollen with arousal.

She moans ‘Pe-ter’, her fingers tightening, pulling my hair.

My tongue is fizzing from her juice and I lick up across her clit.

She is moaning her approval. ‘Pl-ease,’ she gasps.

Rhythmically I lick her clit, back and forth, back and forth. The muscle massaging her pleasure switch. Her breathing and moans speed up as I increase the tempo. Her thighs begin to wake a little. I look up as she throws her head back. Cumming with my name on her lips, her juices on mine.

‘PE-TER,’ she screams in ecstasy.

As she cums, I lose control, Braon and I merge, sinking our fangs into her thigh, marking her as ours.

The marking spirals her orgasm out of control, and she passes out.
…
I can barely look at Emma the next morning. Fortunately in the rush of getting packed and catching the train home she doesn’t seem to notice.

She sits besides me on the journey, snuggled in. This is very pleasing to both Braon and me, I take comfort in her presence. It is a salve to my soul.

Soon the journey is over, and I head for home racing upstairs. As soon as I arrive, I barge into Fel’s studio in the spare room and throw myself down on a low sofa.

‘Fel,’ I groan.

She looks up at me from her drawing desk. ‘What Peter? I am really busy,’ she sighs.

I run my hands through my hair. ‘I marked her’

‘Surely that is good news,’ she shoots back. ‘Not a reason to disturb my work… Not that I am not happy for you, I am. It is about time.’

‘... without her permission,’ I whisper back.

‘You WHAT!?!’

‘... was so beautiful, so open, so perfect… I couldn’t help myself,’ my voice filled with shame. ‘I don’t know what to do, she doesn’t even know the truth about us… about me’

‘Oh Goddess’, she joined me on the couch.

We sit there, our heads in our hands, at the enormity of what I have done.