Full Moon Rising

At a Goth club, a werewolf spies his prey.

Category: M/F
WARNING: Explicit!

Finding a woman capable of generating the power he needed to keep control over his transformation every full moon was a real pain in the ass. Women with that level of passion were few and far between.

Praise for Full Moon Rising

“This is, for me, a lesson in how to write the perfect sex story. The amazing descriptions (“eyes… predator green” – “waterfall of silvery blond curls”), the self-deprecating internal monologues from both characters in alternation, the pressure of time from the rising moon as well as the sexual desire, the incredibly hot sex, the howls and grunts. Wonderful. Thank you so much!”
— GrushaVashnadze —

“OK, I admit I watch Vampire Diaries, True Blood, etc. so I expected the same story again. But you pleasantly surprised me. Fantastic story line, made even better by you skill. I could picture every moment. I can see why this is in the Lush — Editors Choice.”
— Michael —

“Wow! What a hot story. The writing was outstanding and the sensuality incredible. I hung on every word. Loved it!”
— Fogticus —

Read Story

Full Moon Rising


For Dughal

The werewolf drifted through the crowd of writhing dancers at the club, Gothic Noire. The rising moon called to his soul even through the brick walls. He could feel his eyes shifting slowly from their natural emerald green to wolfen gold. I have to find someone to fuck soon, or I’m going to spend the next month locked in my wolf shape.

His head lifted and his eyes reflected a brilliant predator green in the odd club lighting. He turned his head, changing the angle of reflection and the glow winked out. His sensitive nose was nearly useless, overpowered by the thick musky aroma scent of too many warm, sweating bodies rubbing against each other in multiple parodies of sex. Even so, he searched, drifting like smoke through the dancers and the throbbing music, his cock semi-aroused in anticipation.

His dark brows lowered and a slight scowl curled his lips. “I hate being in a rush like this every fucking month.” Finding a woman capable of generating the power he needed to keep control over his transformation every full moon was a real pain in the ass. Women with that level of passion were few and far between.

Not having a lover was his own damn fault, but he couldn’t afford to have anyone finding out about his true nature.

Oh, hey, you’re cute. And by the way, I’m a werewolf. Is that okay with you?

He snarled to himself. “Oh, yeah, that’d go over real well.” That was just asking for another freak to chase him cross-country with a shot-gun full of silver. He smiled, revealing the gleam of sharp incisors. As if silver could really do me any harm?

A clean, fresh aroma drifted through the cigarette smoke and alcohol fumes; baby powder, soap, and warm, frustrated woman.

His cock rose to full erection in response, pressing uncomfortably against his snug leather pants. He followed the enticing fragrance to a tiny female leaning against the wall, completely alone.

She had electric-blue eyes set in a sweetly rounded face with rosebud lips. A waterfall of silvery blonde hair flowed down past her shoulders to her hips. Her full breasts were barely contained by the pearl buttons of her tight cream blouse tucked into a very short leather skirt. Under the black lights, the lace of her bra glowed incandescent blue-white right through the sheer material. She shifted her stance slightly allowing the skirt to rise a little higher. The lacy top of her dark stockings showed, and a tiny glimpse of what had to be the strap of a white garter belt glowed under the black lights.

He drifted past her and studied the context of her delicate scent, noting the definite lack of a male’s musk. So, she‘s not here with another guy, nor has she been touched by one recently. A cunning smile curled his lips. She would do nicely. Now, how to corner her and get her out into the parking lot for a fast fuck? He strode through the door to the enclosed porch outside thinking hard.


Leaning against the wall of the crowded Goth club, Heather swept her long, silvery-blonde hair behind her shoulder. She took a sip of her Long Island Iced Tea and froze with the glass against her lips.

Someone was staring at her. The heated and edged gaze brushed like ghostly fingers across her body, lingering on her breasts and her far-too-exposed thighs.

Apprehensively, Heather looked around her, but no one seemed to stand out as the source of the gaze. Nervously, she dropped a hand to the hem of her leather mini-skirt and tugged at it. She’d received a lot of curious looks, which she’d attributed to the shortness of her skirt and the tightness of her blouse, but this was far more intrusive, almost…aggressive.

The harsh Gothic-Industrial music throbbed loudly, pressing against her flesh like hands, closing in on her.

Heather shivered. “God…! I should’ve never let Lisa talk me into wearing her clothes.” While looking around, she pulled at the buttons of her sheer white blouse, fidgeting. Her full breasts pushed relentlessly at the tiny pearls, opening gaps in her blouse. Her exposed virginal white lace bra glowed brightly under the black light. “Everything’s too damned small. I’m gonna pop a button any second.”

Perturbed and growling in frustration, Heather took a swallow of the sweet, potent drink and absently tugged up the lace tops of the black seamed stockings. They refused to hide beneath the hem of the leather skirt. The lacy straps of the snowy white garter belt showed every time she took a step.

All around her, people danced wildly to the heavy music. Almost all of them wore heavy theatre make-up and fantastic costumes of leather, vinyl, lace, and velvets that were much tighter and showed far more skin than she.

Truthfully, compared to everyone else, she looked like an innocent schoolgirl.

Heather took a healthy swallow of her Long Island Iced Tea. The alcohol slid into the pit of her empty stomach, and she suddenly felt light-headed. The bartender had made it surprisingly strong. “Maybe I should go outside?”

With careful steps, Heather walked to the doorway of the enclosed outside porch. “Thank God I didn’t wear those spike-heeled boots, or I’d be flat on my ass by now.”

The patio was enclosed by a high wooden fence and lined with potted trees. The tiny lights among the tree branches gave only a dim glow, especially after the harsh glare of the club’s powerful strobes. Practically no one was out there.

The crisp autumn breeze blew some of the alcohol fumes away, and Heather’s mind cleared a little. Breathing deep, she looked up at the clear stars, turned, and promptly walked into a firm, hard-muscled body.

Strong hands gripped her upper arms, steadying her from their collision.

“Oh! Sorry!” Heather looked up—and up—into the eyes of a very tall man. Her head didn’t quite reach his shoulder. Despite the dim lighting, it was more than enough to let her see that he was strikingly handsome.

He gazed down at her and a smile lifted his full lips. He had fine, if sharp features with a pronounced five o’clock shadow. Thick black lashes framed his bright, yellow-green eyes, the corners tilting up to give him an exotic, feral look. Dark brows like wings slanted up over his deep-set eyes. Long waves of lustrous black hair fell over his shoulders.

“Hi, I, ah…” Heather began.

His finger pressed gently to her lips for silence.

Her lips tingled where he touched them and she licked them without thinking, gazing up at his faint smile.

His smile widened, parting his lips slightly, revealing a bright flash of long white teeth. 

Heather blinked. Are those fangs? She bit her lip them smiled ruefully. Oh, wait, this is a Goth club. Duh. Just about everybody wears fangs. In fact, it was pretty obvious that half the people there desperately wanted to be vampires.

His graceful hand tipped in long, curved nails almost like claws reached out to grasp a thick lock of her blonde mane, letting the silvery strands slide slowly through his fingers. His eyes followed the path of his hand. Clearly, he was fascinated by her hair.

His obvious admiration started an intimate warmth that coiled in her belly.

His green-gold gaze penetrated hers as though he was reaching in to her to take hold of her soul.

The fine hairs on the back of her neck rose.


Thinking to kiss her, he leaned forward.

She shied away slightly.

He stopped. Too soon? Changing tactics, he took her small, delicate hand and raised it to his lips. Watching her closely, he softly brushed his lips across her knuckles, then brushed them fleetingly with the tip of his tongue.

She shivered visibly, but didn’t pull away. The slight scent of arousal drifted from her skin.

Yes, that’s it, Princess. He smiled, pleased. A shame I don’t have the time to really work on her, she definitely has potential. Taking a calculated risk, he slid his hands into her hair and very gently cupped her head to hold her quiet, prepared to use his strength if necessary. Damn, I hate being in a hurry, but I have to get her outside soon. In a sudden move, he turned and pressed her tightly back against the wooden palisade wall.

Her eyes widened and she let out a small sound of surprise. Her hands clenched in the lapels of his leather vest.

Leaning forward, he touched his nose to her ear. Slowly he inhaled then exhaled with a soft growl.

Her body trembled with long rippling shivers.

Lightly, he touched his tongue to the shell of her ear tracing the curve, then dipped delicately but moistly into the sensitive center. He exhaled softly, creating a cool breeze against the damp flesh.

Locked in his embrace, she trembled again and draw a ragged breath, releasing it with a tiny moan. She pulled him closer.

He trailed his open mouth, nibbling lightly, along her jaw, and touched his lips to hers.

She opened her mouth beneath him.

He swept in to stroke her tongue with his.


The hands gently cradling her head guided her to meet his kiss fully, engaging her tongue in a playful duel. His body was an inferno against hers. His erection thick and heavy with intent against the cradle of her hips.

Drowning in both panic and delicious excitement, Heather shuddered under the onslaught of his kiss. Oh, God, what is this guy doing to me? She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The aroma of leather and his potent male sexuality curled around her. He feels so good, he smells so good… Mesmerized by the fierce pleasure coursing through her body, she heard herself moan into his mouth.


The werewolf captured her soft moan in his mouth then swept his tongue along hers. He could taste the potent Long Island Iced Tea she’d been drinking. Good, there’s alcohol in her. This should make it easier for me to take her before she’s realized what’s happened.

Holding her captive against the wooden fence with his body, he deepened his kiss, slanting his mouth over hers for deeper penetration. Using care not to nip her with his fangs, he took her mouth, tasting her and inhaling deeply to steal the breath she exhaled.

Gripping his vest, she replied by sucking his tongue into her mouth then suckling on it.

With a moan, he rolled his hips, pressing his entrapped cock against her softness. Anticipation burned in him. She probably doesn’t realize how strongly she’s responding. And she was responding. He could feel her natural passion blazing out of control. Perfect.

Slowly, so as not to frighten her, he slid his hand from her silky hair down her shoulder and arm to press against her narrow waist. Carefully he skimmed his hand up her ribs. His hand closed over her breast through the blouse and he squeezed lightly, then again, more firmly. With his long nails he tugged her hardened nipple beneath her lace bra.

A shudder wracked her body.

He replied with an involuntary shudder of his own. If I don’t get her outside soon, I may cum right here in my pants.


Want and need coursing urgently through Heather, she pulled her hands from his lapels to dive under his vest. She wanted to touch him. She needed to touch him. As though in a dream, she swept her hands over the silk shirt he wore, and found that he was a solid wall of whipcord muscle. She swept her hands down his back, scoring him lightly with her nails, then dug in to pull him closer.

His growl of pleasure vibrated through her.

She wanted to touch his skin, but his shirt was tucked in. She couldn’t just tug his shirt out; that would be rude. Damn it!

His thumb rolled her tender nipple through her blouse.

In sheer reaction, Heather’s hips rose to meet his, pushing strongly against the heat of his erection.

He purred in open pleasure and lifted his head to look at her with heated, hungry eyes blazing more gold than green. Licking his lips, his fingers unfastened the straining buttons to her blouse. His fingers slid inside her bra and his warm hand closed on her bare flesh.

The reality of a man’s hand on her naked breast shocked Heather suddenly awake. Oh, God, I must be drunker than I thought! Startled, confused and alarmed, she tried to pull away, only to discover how firmly he had her pinned.

His smile went feral and he tugged sharply on her captured nipple.

Lightning bolts of liquid pleasure pulsed straight down, making her body pulse in time with his fingers. Her core fluttered with obscene hunger and anticipation. Slick wetness dampened her panties. Heather whimpered in distress, even as her body screamed: More! Don’t stop!

Biting her lip in sexual frustration and humiliated by her body’s submission, she shoved him hard and rolled out of his embrace.

Half in shock and half in terror, she ducked her head and bolted for the ladies’ room inside while fastening her blouse buttons as fast as she could.


Oh, no, Princess, it’s far too late for running, the werewolf thought in amusement. He pushed away from the wall to give chase.


Fearing to look behind her, she threaded her way through the crowd. I can’t believe I let that guy kiss me like that. I can’t believe I was kissing him back! I hope to God nobody saw me kissing a total stranger like that!

She dove into the narrow hall and headed past the stairs, only to find a line in front of the bathrooms halting her escape. “Shit.”

There was a tug on her skirt then she was turned around sharply.

“Going somewhere?” It was the man she’d been kissing. His eyes were narrowed and intent with the fever of open lust, and his smile grim. He’d followed her and had caught her by the waistband of her skirt. Between one breath and the next, he imprisoned her arm in a powerful grip then she was bodily shoved through a doorway and up a short staircase.

“Hey, uh, I don’t know you and I, uh, normally don’t go kissing people…” She tried to protest as he forced her into the dimly-lit narrow room upstairs. “There’s been a mistake, I didn’t mean–”

“You didn’t mean to kiss me?” His hypnotic voice slid over her like potent whisky. His eyes were slits of gold fire as his glare locked and held her gaze in a punishing grip.

Heather could feel her self-control slipping away from her reach.

He licked his lips, the sharp points of his teeth gleaming in his predatory smile.

“Not like– Not like that.” Her voice dropped to barely a whisper.

He slowly backed her into a dark corner of the empty room. The light from the solitary lamp etched his face with menacing shadows.

She shivered. Oh, God… Oh, God, I think I’m in trouble!

“I like the way you kiss.” His voice rumbled and he pulled her closer. Abruptly, he turned and sat in the room’s only chair, facing her. With him seated, their eyes were on the same level.

Heather could feel him reaching out to take control of her will. Her traitorous body responded with a sudden and compulsive craving for his touch.

“I want you.” He tugged her closer. “I need you.” His voice rumbled with a growl, vibrating with unleashed passion. He released her arm to capture the back of her head, gently but firmly gripping her by the hair, holding her still.

Her mouth opened to protest.

His lips closed suddenly on hers in a possessive kiss. His tongue swept inside.

Her objections faded into a long moan while waves of hot and hungry desire washed over her. Her tongue parried his, returning his kiss. She was lost in the firestorm of excitement sweeping through her blood with her flesh screaming in voracious desire.

He moaned into her mouth in clear recognition of her surrender. His arm closed about her waist, a hand cupping her rounded ass. Abruptly, he tipped her toward him.

Feeling herself falling, she put her hands on his shoulders and gripped the leather of his vest.

His arm tightened without warning and he pulled her down and closer.

She lost her balance and found herself sitting astride his lap, straddling his muscular thighs and pressed against him full length. Her soft breasts were crushed against the wall of his chest.

His hand curled into her hair. Slowly and irresistibly he pulled her head back, breaking the kiss. With a moist tongue, he stroked her vulnerable neck, tasting her.

She closed her eyes in moaning surrender and quivered as his panting breath and warm wet tongue caressed her. Her eyes fluttered closed in erotic bliss. She could feel his sharp teeth grazing her, then a light nip on her exposed throat.

Held immobile by his grip in her hair, and the wet heat of his mouth on her throat, clever fingers tugged on her buttons. The front of her bra opened, releasing both her vulnerable breasts to his mercy. Her nipples hardened powerfully in the cool air. She became overwhelmed by the powerful need to have them touched. A small hungry sound escaped her lips.

His hand closed about one full breast, long nails lightly pricking her flesh. Then the other, measuring their voluptuous weight. He swept his hand over her pliant skin. His sighs of pleasure mixing with hers. Nails bit lightly into her softness and a callused thumb slid over one sensitive nipple then the other.

The furnace of his wet mouth slid from her throat down her collarbone and onto the flesh of the breast. His mouth feasted on the delicate skin, with his tongue making damp circles. He took possession of a nipple, sucking softly, and then more strongly.

She gasped with the delicious pleasure.

His tongue flicked the nipple against his teeth, insistently.

Bolt after bolt of intense delight shocked small whimpers from her lips.

He suckled strongly on one nipple and then the other, pulling on them until both were painfully erect.

Heat gripped her body in spasms of greedy desire and she cried out softly in carnal lust, arching her back to lean into his mouth for more of his kisses. Her hips thrust forward by themselves and Heather was conscious only of the powerful rippling sensations of hunger engulfing her body.

He slowly spread his muscular legs between her soft thighs, irresistibly opening her legs wide. Her skirt slid up to her waist, exposing her completely.

A hand splayed on the silk of her stockings, moving up in a slow heated caress to the flesh of her inner thigh. Suddenly his palm covered her heat, and he squeezed in possession.

She moaned in primitive fear and sudden anticipation.

A finger lightly caressed her panties, tracing the damp shape of her cleft through the snowy satin. The finger pressed deeper, becoming a long, slow rub against her excited clit through the pliant fabric.

The smell of her willingness reached her together with the musk of his male arousal.

The finger wormed its way under the satin, seeking out her softness. He touched her wet, naked flesh.

She shuddered and gasped in shock.

Continuing his explorations, his fingers slid further under the white satin, parting her soft curls. He gently stroked the tender flesh of her outer lips then dipped into the mouth of her drenched cleft. The finger dove slowly into her moist depths, foraging deep, then deeper yet to caress her trembling inner flesh. He swirled his invasive finger to gather her dew, and slid out. His mouth left her wet, exposed breasts, replaced by the sounds of him licking and sucking. He was tasting her juices.

Her cheeks heated.

“Delicious, Princess.” The pleasure in his voice caressed her. Using the unrelenting grip in her silver hair, he tipped her head forward and brought her lips once more to his.

She opened her mouth under his and tasted herself on his tongue. She shuddered in reaction.

He pulled away to lock onto her eyes. Passion was written across his face like pain, his breath hard from panting. He whispered harshly. “I want to watch you as I make you cum for me.” Again his finger slid into her cleft, and another finger joined the first.

Her body clenched in wanton hunger to hold him within.

With a sharp grin, he slid his damp fingers out again. He traced up her tender flesh to rub lightly against her clit.

Bolts of pleasure jolted her sharply and she gasped.

His fingers rubbed quickly back and forth against her.

Her lips parted and thighs tightened against the muscle of his leather-clad legs. She ground her hips onto him, begging for more.

He pulled her mouth to his for a hungry kiss, but kept his yellow-green eyes trained on hers. He dipped his finger in her once more, sliding deeply to rub her inner flesh, then pulled them out, pushing in again, then pulling out in a slow fuck. Wetness slid from her core onto his palm. He rubbed at her clit with a damp thumb.

She whimpered softly and slid her hips forward onto his possessing fingers, wanting more, needing more, fucking herself on his hand.


That’s my girl, he thought ruthlessly. Just a little more and you’re gonna cum on my hand. He crushed his mouth to hers, capturing her soft cries in his mouth. He slid a second finger into her, burrowing strongly to find the soft, fleshy button buried deep inside. He pressed it with his fingertips then flicked it lightly again, and again in an insistent rhythm.

Her body rocked unconsciously against his palm.


She was suddenly jolted to the threshold of a crushing orgasm. Driven closer and closer by his working fingers, she let out soft, breathless sounds. She was balanced right on the glittering edge. She let out a whine of frustration that was swallowed by his mouth.


Her body clutched at his fingers. “Yes, yes,” he hissed. He could feel and smell her nearness to climax.

Her hands tugged insistently at his lapels as her hips rocked against him in mindless lust. Harder and harder, she thrust against his fingers, encouraging him to push deeper into her.

His breath came in harsh pants, eyes intent on her. He growled . “I want you to cum for me, Princess. I want to feel you. I want to taste you as you cum.” She was close, so very close…

Her mouth opened to suck in a deep breath then held it. She arched, stiffened, then thrashed in a howling, glorious blaze, crushing herself on his hand.

He grinned. There we go…! Firmly, he brought her lips down to meet his and he took her cries into his triumphant mouth.


Rapt in their throes of pleasure, neither the girl nor the werewolf noticed the couples that had silently come into the room. Silently and intently their eyes avidly devoured the scene before them.

Clothing was loosened and hands roved and stroked, pleasuring themselves and each other while they voraciously watched the two in the chair; the elegant blonde and the rugged dark man forcing the delicate blonde to submit to her own climax.

In the mirrors, the blonde’s white panties were stark and visible in the dim light with her full pale breasts pressed into him. His mouth took hers, their tongues working against each other ravenously, as though starving.

His eyes turned toward them briefly, wide-open and brilliant gold. He deepened the kiss before returning his eyes and attention back to her.


The full moon was rising. The werewolf could feel it in his bones. Even behind the walls of brick, steel, and cement that surrounded him, the moon’s power vibrated through him.

He had run out of time; he must take her now, and damn the consequences.

With the power of her orgasm singing through his blood, he could now achieve one of his own strong enough to retain control over his ability to change at will. Without her orgasm to strengthen him, the full moon would force him to shift and lock into the shape of a wolf until another orgasm brought him back to his humanity.

With the sharp tips of his nails already extending into claws, he tore the delicate satin of her panties from her soft body, pushing them into a pocket. He released her long, silky hair and held her in a gentle embrace while her after-tremors still shook her.

Her mouth locked to his in complete abandon, sucking on his tongue.

He ripped his trousers open to free his painfully hard flesh from its prison. He stroked himself once, pushing the purple head forward. Slipping a hand under her firm ass, he lifted and pulled her forward to impale her on the full power of his heavily erect cock.

Her eyes opened with a small cry of surprise as though awakened from a dream.

A slight smirk curled his lips. It was much too late for second thoughts. He was encased in her hot flesh, and he needed her to stay human. Already he could feel his ears lengthening to points.

He was fucking her right here, right now.

He rocked her forward to take her as deep as he could go, stretching her tender core to accommodate his length. His eyes lost focus with the intense pleasure of a tight, hot cunt wrapped around his cock.

finally noticing their audience reflected in the surrounding mirrors. She gasped in obvious shock, her body clenching tight around his cock.

He moaned harshly. Fuck! That feels good! Personally, he didn’t care who was watching as long as they didn’t try to stop him from taking her. With the moon burning in his blood, his wolf would not take that well.

She abruptly twisted and bucked on his lap, shoving at his shoulders in an attempt to pull away.

“Oh, no you don’t!” With a snarl, he captured her hands and pulled them behind her back, holding her wrists together with one hand. “My turn for pleasure, Princess.” His other arm closed around her hips and pulled her firmly down onto his cock, his smile savage with triumph.


In despair Heather realized that there was no stopping him. He was in full possession of her body, and oh God, her body wanted it.


His arm tight around her and his feet planted firmly, he leaned forward and took a nipple hungrily into his mouth, sucking hard. Withdrawing almost to the crown, pulled her back down onto his cock while thrusting up into her with a harsh grunt. his ass muscles flexed strongly, powering his strokes up into her depths in a fierce rhythm. Again then again he drove up into her with deep hard strokes.

The werewolf pressed his mouth against her breast, licking and sucking her nipples and the soft fullness around them while he fucked her; deep, then shallow, then deeper, stronger, harder — racing to finish before the threatening moon that swelled toward full strength in the sky.

With a soft moan, she started rising then falling onto him, fucking him as he fucked her. Her passion had clearly risen, taking over her body in answer to his. Viscous liquid excitement smeared his thighs.

He lifted his head and caught her frightened, but heated gaze. Their panting breaths matched tempo as they both approached climax. The slaps of flesh against wet flesh became sharp and loud in his ears.

He moaned. “Yes…” He felt the deep, tightening pleasure in his balls and he knew he was ready to spill into her hungry flesh. “Yes, yes, yes!” He was close, right at the edge. He growled in lustful pleasure.

She threw her head back with a deep gasp and her core tightened around him in repeated spasms. A cry of pleasure exploded from her lips.

Within her, his cock swelling to excruciating hardness. He pulled her down powerfully onto his cock, her ass tight against his balls. With a wrenching howl of ecstasy and triumph, he exploded into her depths.

She shuddered in his arms, still within the violent grip of her own climax.

Trembling in aftershocks of carnal pleasure, he fought for breath while the burning in his blood calmed, the moon having finally lost its grip on him. Yes… I’m human again!

He released her wrists and enclosed her tender body in a fierce hug. The werewolf sighed deeply in relief, both mental and physical. He would keep his shape-changing power under his control for another turn of the moon. He could now seek his wolf form without losing his ability to return to human form. Gone also was the fear of being lost in a far more hideous form — one trapped between man and wolf.

At least until the next full moon.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, burrowing into him, clearly seeking comfort. Tears of humiliation and embarrassment made their way down her cheeks.

He pressed his lips to her ear and whispered gently. “It’s okay, Princess, it’s okay…” He kissed her lips and then kissed her tears away. Gently, he lifted her from him and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his seed from her thighs. He helped her rearrange her clothes, closing his pants with a satisfied smile.

He became aware of the sounds of the others in the room and remembered the audience.

The intruders were utterly oblivious to the two of them, moaning and writhing while seeking their own pleasure.

Gently taking her still-trembling hand, he led her to the stairs past a man moaning, eyes closed, gripping his lover by the hair as he pumped himself into her mouth.


In shock, Heather went into the ladies’ room. Luckily it was empty. She used the sink to wash her seared flesh and scrub off her ruined make-up. Her face burned in humiliation. Oh, my God, All those people were watching me being– Being fucked!

A minor tremor shook her, and she suddenly realized that he had given her the best climaxes she’d ever had. Two! I had two orgasms! She felt both ashamed and strangely exhilarated. She blushed furiously in confusion. Oh, God, does this make me a slut?

She abruptly realized that she had a serious problem. “Shit! I don’t have any panties!”

Still puzzled over her behavior, and painfully aware that she was naked under her all-too short skirt, Heather walked out of the ladies’ room into the main room of the club.

The guy that…fucked her walked over like nothing had happened, smiled, and handed her a drink.

Desperately thirsty, she took the glass and drank deeply. Then she realized what she was drinking. She stared at the half empty glass. “Shit, I just chugged a Long Island Iced Tea!” The alcoholic fire went straight to her brain, making her knees weaken.

He gripped her arm to help her keep her balance, a relaxed smile on his lips. “That’s what you were drinking before.”

“Yes, and look what kind of trouble that got me into!” Heather looked into his lambent green eyes and blinked She could have sworn his eyes had been yellow only a few minutes ago…

Memories of his powerful body moving under hers scorched through her.

Her cheeks burning, she looked away and took another, smaller sip.

He leaned back to slouch against the wall and smirked. “I have no complaints.”

She snorted then turned to him with a lifted brow. “Of course not, why would you?”

He barked out a laugh then leaned close to whisper against her ear. “Of course not, you were perfection.”

The club music shifted, and the sensual strains of Enigma flowed over her, stirring something within her. Violins and a heavy backbeat floated around in her head. The sound of young male voices chanting threaded through the music.

A slender, dark-haired girl came out of the crowd on the dance-floor.“Hey! Heather, where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you! Did you hear? We missed the side-show going on upstairs!”


The loud music and press of people closed between the werewolf and the spent blonde.

He slid away in the confusion and headed for the door. He slipped out of the club and took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air. So… her name is Heather.

Cautiously he made his way to a dark corner of the parking lot where he’d parked his bike. Perhaps Heather will still be around next month? He pulled the scrap of satin that had been her panties from his pocket.Maybe he would seek her out before the next full moon. I have her scent now, so I can find her again. Perhaps he would even take her as his mate.


Heather looked back at the corner, but the green-eyed man was gone. Did he leave? That son of a bitch! Ignoring Lisa, she ran out of the club.

Looking around the parking lot, she heard the thunder of a motorcycle revving up. That sounds like my Dad’s old bike. Looking toward the street, she spotted him.

His long dark hair flying, he drove down the main street on a classic Indian motorcycle. He looked over, clearly seeing her. He grinned and waved a scrap of white satin that clearly used to be her panties.

She didn’t even know his name.

The continuation of this story is Snow Moon, found in A Morgan Hawke Story Collection.