Sacrificed Soul

Chapter Seven

Jack Daniels was every bit as much of a party as his namesake, a fact he'd gone out of his way to prove to me five times over. On the final eve of my second, and last, tour in the middle east, huddling on a broken down cot in the shadows of the barracks, the little coyote shifter figured he'd show me a good time.

What had actually happened was that Dodger, the humongous, very gay bear shifter had made the snide comment, "I wonder if Danny boy could manage anything taller than five two?"

It was in response to Daniels talking out his five-five ass. Mariah Irwin, a fierce cougar shifter, and Deshaun Williams, the most beautiful second soul lion I had ever met, had no few digs to throw out either. You know how it is, cats and dogs n' all. Irwin pushed her booted foot onto my shoulder when I wasn't joining in the conversation, my nose shoved into my phone as I read emails from the Orion clan.

Daniels, never one to back down from a challenge, had accepted.

Apparently, I was just collateral. But I forgive the bear's earlier mistake of pointing his beefy index finger at me, all five foot nine inches of rabid wolf, to which Daniels proceeded to fuck me with his eyes as he hadn't bothered with before. Not so soon after, it was with the baseball bat of a cock that I still couldn't figure out how he stowed away. Did he fold it in half? Did he stuff it up his own asshole?

I don't care, stuck in the moment as I ride him. His huge wang hits all the good spots, and he's completely transfixed by my breasts that swing just above his face every time I slide up and down. Poor guy has forgotten how to moan. He's just... laying there.

My chuckle is silent, but I let it show in a smile that barely hides teeth. He's probably regretting taking me on. But I only feel. Right now. In the moment, like any good wolf should do. His legs move beneath me, and I feel his second soul pushing strength into it's human's muscles to lift me further up. He anchors his heels into the cot and starts jackrabbiting, making up for it by reaching between us and fondling my clit.

A breathy moan escapes my mouth as he finds it without error, circling slow and hard. My pussy starts to constrict, sucking him in deeper as I come for what could be the thirtieth time. The man was certainly not lying when he said he knew his way around a cunt.

And while I am only a wolf, he is a man with the second soul of a canidae cousin, so neither of us think to stop while we're ahead. My hands are buried in the tangled sheets of the uncomfortable cot, his fingers are tight on my bouncing hips and scraping over my clit. His knot swells, and by a combination of both our sex drunk brains, we do a very stupid thing.

I slam down and he thrusts up.

"Ah, fuck!" I cry, suddenly free of the fuck-fog, but it's too late. The blood swells at the base of his dick, the knot straining my soon to be sore pussy. It settles behind my pubic bone, and the fucker has the audacity to start moaning and grinding against me. His fingers squeeze and release. Squeeze and release. I feel his left leg jiggle a bit, too. I bet his toes are just curling.

Men, I think as I sit back and let him enjoy himself. For the most part, if my human body is begging for something more than my own hand, I have to settle for the cocky little bastards. No matter the size of his dick though, he isn't a wolf. Those knots, man, they make me wild. But wolf's are smarter than the average yote. They didn't thrust themselves willy-nilly into the government's waiting hands.

Not that I'd had a choice.

I look down at the grimacing, still orgasming Daniels. His squirming is cute, and I'm not sure that I feel left out. His hands make him a conductor of the best sort of orchestra, and by the moon, that fucking mouth is very tricksy. But still, I don't want to be stuck on top of him for the next twenty minutes. Thinking more on it, I could probably pull free of him.