Jasmine St. Paul loves the bayou. Ever since she was a little girl, she comes here to escape daily life, to have some time alone. She’s also heard tales of a strange sort of wolf prowling the swamps, looking for victims. Jasmine always thought they were just silly tales meant to scare children...until now.
When she hears feet crashing through the undergrowth behind her, Jasmine runs, but there’s no hope of escape. Trapped and surrounded under the light of the full moon, she gives herself up to be CLAIMED BEFORE DAWN!
Warning: This standalone 14500 word sizzling erotic, romantic tale features ultra-masculine werewolves, an ancient prophecy come true, an extremely explicit and extremely rough four-werewolf-one-woman gangbang, penetration in all three holes, deep-throating and five mind-blowing finishes. If you choose to journey into the night with Jasmine, you’re sure to leave satisfied!
When I open my eyes, he’s standing above me, towering over my helpless figure, mouth still drawn in a noiseless snarl. I try to breathe, but my heart pounds so heavily that it takes real effort. Sweat beads up on my forehead. One drop spills down either cheek, and a third runs down the line beside my nose and to my lips where I taste the salt. Was that sweat or a tear? Get a grip, Jaz, get a grip.
And then I feel him lower his head, touching my chin with the fur on his. Stiff and warm, almost impossibly thick, the monster’s coat played a dangerous game along my jaw. Any moment, any second, I think, he’s going to snap his jaws open and close them again, but this time, it’ll be around my throat. Fear boils up inside me, a bitter soup with a foul aftertaste. Again I clench my eyes, and this time when the salt hits my lips, I know its tears because they’ve burned paths down my cheeks.
I hear him breathe. So soft that it could be a leaf rattling in the wind a hundred feet away, his nose fills with air, and his chest rises until it touches mine, and then shrinks again with his exhale. A little tendril of hair has fallen down in front of my face, the same one I pushed away a moment ago. Each time his hot, almost seductive breath slides across my skin, the hairs in that bundle jitter in front of my eyes.
His mouth falls open. I can see his teeth, and the tip of his tongue. Where the first wolf that approached me had long, pointed, sharp fangs, this one’s seem flatter, wider, but no less likely to rip me up. One of his paws goes to my shoulder and pins me flat against the ground. He’s heavy, and my bony shoulder pushing against the floor of the cave, even with the padding I awoke on, sends pains shooting down my arm.
“Stop!” I beg. “You’re hurting me! Please!”
My cries seem to get his attention, at least for a moment, and he looks at me, cocking his head slightly to one side, apparently as fascinated about me as I am about him. My squirming and writhing seems to just get him more interested in holding me still. Those warm, gold-flecked eyes watch me for another moment, and then he puts his other paw on my free shoulder, making absolutely sure I won’t move. I try to kick, but his body is so long, and massive as he crouches above me that my foot has maybe an inch to travel before it bumps, useless, against him.
“Let me up!”
The wolf freezes, as do the other two.
“Let me up, now!” I repeat, in the best do-what-I-say-or-else voice I can muster, given the circumstances. The one pinning my shoulders cocks his head the other way. I can see behind his eyes that something’s turning in his brain. Either he’s trying to figure out what I’m saying, or he’s trying to figure out the best way to rip out my throat.
He lets out a whining sound, a whimper almost. And then, the strangest thing happens – his smell changes. Just a little, not so much it’s very noticeable, but it does. Ever so slightly, the feral, wild scent of the beast becomes more man, as though two natures war within his skin. Or as though he’s a man turned beast.