“Why?”
“Because I’m going to take all my clothes off.”
She suddenly blushes. She quickly turns around to face the other side.
He laughs. “It’s OK. You’re going to be seeing plenty of me anyway. But here, we don’t have to hide who we are.”
She understands what he is about to do. Her cheeks burning furiously, she gives him his privacy as he undresses.
“Can you put my clothes into your backpack?” he says.
“OK. Tell me when to look.”
His transition is almost soundless. And she knows he has transformed when a low growl punctures the air behind her.
She turns, sucking in her breath. And stares at the beautiful werewolf with green eyes which appears before her. His fur is honey gold in color and burnished in patches. He is sleek and lean as he stands on his powerful legs. He is far larger than a wolf, though not as large as Jared’s panther.
She stares at him for a long time, afraid to move.
Then:
Why should I be afraid of him? He is very much in control of his bestial side.
Taking a tentative step forward, she moves to retrieve his clothes from the ground. Jeans. Plaid shirt. He doesn’t wear underwear.
He watches her patiently as she folds his clothes neatly and stuffs them into her backpack. Then she goes to him. Her hand reaches out and touches his shining fur in wonder. It is like petting a wild lion – at any time, you’re afraid he would turn around and rip your hand off. At her soft touch, a deep rumble crosses his chest, and the vibrations travel to her flesh, causing strange sensations to ripple within her.
Get on, he seems to say.
She has ridden Jared plenty of times before, and this is no different. She is an expert in mounting shapeshifters when they are in their animal form now. She slings her backpack behind her and straps it firmly to her body. Then she grabs his fur and mounts him with some difficulty.
Once she is upon his broad back, he begins to gait. He ascertains that she is holding hard onto his fur before he picks up the pace. She straddles his broad back, gripping him hard with her thighs. The sensation that goes through her legs is almost sexual.
He speeds up. Soon, they are racing through the forest, past the dark trees with their autumn haloes and up, up into the hills. The wind whips her face and tears her hair backwards. The exhilaration courses in her veins as his legs pump back and forth. She can feel his power surging within her. Her heart beats with a rapid thud-thud-thud that pound in her ears.
After about twenty minutes, they are out of the forest and traversing the foothills of the ridge. The view is incredible. The ridge is verdant, despite being named blue, and dotted with trees as far as the eye can see. Here, the air is crisp and sweet. She is glad she brought her jacket to keep her warm because it is beginning to be really cold.
He slows down as they come to the pass. It is a thin valley between two of the hills in the ridge. The grass of the valley is a deep green and speckled with yellow flowers. Everything is fresh and scented with pine.
She can hardly feel her cheeks and hands now – they are so cold in the wind. The werewolf canters to a halt, and when he finally stops, it takes her a while to uncramp her limbs so that she can slide off his back and onto the lush, carpeted ground.
“God, that was amazing,” she breathes.
He is panting and his mouth is open to let out the heat. She throws herself down on the ground to rest. Her legs are wobbly. Shivering, she draws her jacket tightly around her and buries her hands in it.
Before her eyes, he metamorphoses. His large form shrinks and his four legs become two arms and two human legs. His fur vanishes, and in its place is bare skin. His head is bowed. He looks up, and his eyes are a brilliant green against the lush grass.
He is also naked, and he makes no attempt to conceal his impressive erection. Shapeshifters are always horny after a transformation, she knows. But she also knows he would not force himself on her.
He smiles a heavenly smile, and she can’t help smiling back. She knows what he is thinking.
As nature intended.
“Liked that?” he says.
“I’ve had better,” she teases.
He laughs. “As if. Where are my clothes?”
She blushes to see his cock – which is rearing up to point at her.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he says. “It’s always hard after a run. Though . . . ”
He pauses pointedly.
She quickly hides her face as she reaches into her backpack for his clothes. He takes them from her.
After he has dressed, they lie together and stare into the blue sky.
“No rain,” she says.
“Don’t count your chickens.”
“Do you hunt?”
He is very close to her, and if she stretches out her arm, she would touch his bicep.