The beast lowered its head, sniffing along my body from feet to face. A curious sound rumbled from its chest, almost like a question. Then it circled me once, twice, its tail—more wolf-like than lion—swishing behind it.
In one swift movement, it was upon me, its weight pressing me into the earth. I gasped, expecting teeth at my throat, claws in my flesh. Instead, I felt something else entirely. The beast’s paw hooked into the torn fabric of my dress, ripping it further. The sound of tearing cloth filled the night as the garment gave way completely, leaving me naked beneath the creature.
Cold air kissed my exposed skin, raising gooseflesh across my entire body. But the cold was rapidly replaced by the heat emanating from the beast’s massive form as it positioned itself over me, its fur brushing against my bare back and legs.
Understanding dawned with horrifying clarity. The beast wanted me naked before sampling my flesh. He didn’t want to eat a human with cloth on it. I knew I hated the thought of animal fur served with my meat.
I tried to crawl away, my hands and knees digging into the soft earth beneath me. The beast allowed me to move for a moment, perhaps curious about my intentions, but then it followed, matching my movements exactly. Its massive form hovered over me, containing me beneath its bulk like a cage of muscle and fur.
That’s when I felt it. The beast’s tongue, rough and hot, dragging up the length of my spine from the small of my back to the nape of my neck. A shocked gasp escaped me at the sensation, so unlike anything I’d experienced before. It wasn’t the prelude to being devoured that I’d expected. It felt like... tasting. Sampling. Claiming.
A shiver that had nothing to do with fear raced through me. What was happening? Why wasn’t I more terrified? I should be fighting, screaming, doing anything other than freezing in place as this creature’s tongue mapped the contours of my back.
He growled when he noticed my dagger tied to my waist, but he left it alone when I didn’t reach for it. Part of me thought about doing just that now, but then he did something that caught me by surprise.
The beast made a sound of approval, a rumbling purr that vibrated through my entire body where it pressed against me. And then I felt something else. Something hot and hard pressing against the most intimate part of me.
“No,” I whispered, the word more breath than sound, memories of Gaspard rearing their ugly heads. “Please, I—”
Whatever plea I intended died in my throat as the beast pushed forward, its member breaching me in one powerful thrust. Pain exploded through me, sharp and immediate. It was too much, too big, too foreign. I felt stretched beyond my limits, filled to the point of breaking.
A scream tore from my throat, equal parts shock and agony. The beast above me stilled, as if giving me time to adjust to its invasion. My body trembled beneath it, tears streaming down my face as I struggled to accommodate its impossible girth.
Gaspard had hurt me, yes, but this was different. This wasn’t the petty cruelty of a small man trying to prove his power with his fists. This was nature itself. Raw and primal and uncompromising. The beast wasn’t trying to hurt me, It simply was what it was, acting according to its nature. And I was simply what I was. A human, fragile and overwhelmed by forces beyond my control.
When I would have collapsed beneath its weight, the beast’s paw came around to support me, pressing firmly between my breasts to hold me in position. The pressure was firm but not painful, the beast’s claws carefully retracted to avoid piercing my skin. The small act of consideration confused me almost as much as the situation itself. It suggested a level of awareness, of care, that no mere animal should possess.
The beast began to move then, drawing back slightly before pushing forward once more. Each thrust sent shockwaves through my entire body, the initial pain gradually giving way to... something else. Something I’d never felt before. A fullness that bordered on pleasure, a stretching that awakened nerve endings I hadn’t known existed.
My breathing changed, short gasps giving way to deeper, shuddering inhalations. The beast seemed to notice the shift, its movements becoming more deliberate, more rhythmic. It wasadapting to me, I realized with shock. Adjusting its actions based on my responses.
A wanting bloomed deep within my core, spreading outward like wildfire. Heat pooled in my lower belly. Each thrust of the beast’s hips sent jolts of sensation through me, no longer pain but something far more complex. My body began to respond of its own accord, pressing back against the creature’s advances, seeking more of whatever this new feeling was.
Had I lost my mind? Was this some form of madness brought on by trauma and exposure? Or was my body simply taking what pleasure it could find after so much pain?
The rational part of me recoiled at the thought of finding pleasure in this bestial coupling. But the primal part, the part that lived in blood and bone and breath, couldn’t deny the mounting tension building within me, the coiling heat that tightened with each thrust.
I remembered the working women at the tavern, their whispered conversations about size and stamina, about the elusive peak that Gaspard had never once brought me to. I’d thought them liars, exaggerating for coin or status. But now, as the beast’s member stroked something deep inside me that sent lightning through my veins, I understood they had spoken truth.
This was what they meant. This building tension, this climbing need. My body sang with it, every nerve ending alive and screaming for more, more, more.
When it happened, it took me completely by surprise. One moment I was climbing toward some unknown summit, and the next, I was falling—no, flying—carried on waves of pleasure so intense they bordered on pain. My inner walls clenched rhythmically around the beast’s member, drawing a growl of approval from the creature above me. My toes curled, my fingers dug into the earth, and a sound I didn’t recognize tore from my throat. A half sob, half howl of my own.
The beast rumbled its delight, its pace increasing as it chased its own release. And then I felt it. A swelling at the base of its member, stretching me even further as it locked inside me. I gasped at the new sensation, at the fullness that bordered on too much but somehow wasn’t. The beast’s seed flooded me, hot and copious, more than I would have thought possible.
Unlike Gaspard’s brief, almost pathetic spurts, the beast’s climax continued in waves, each pulse sending fresh heat into my core. It went on and on, far longer than I would have thought possible. Was this normal for such creatures? Or was there something special about this particular mating?
Just when I thought it was over, the beast’s head dipped to my shoulder, and its teeth—so careful, so precise—sank into the flesh where my the back of my neck met my shoulder. The pain was sharp but brief, immediately replaced by a rush of something that felt like the power I’d experienced in the river. Energy coursed through me, centering on the bite, spreading outward until every part of me tingled with it.
Another climax crashed over me, unexpected and overwhelming. I cried out, my body convulsing beneath the beast as pleasure beyond anything I’d known washed through me in relentless waves. The beast held me steady through it all, its body a solid presence above mine, its member still locked firmly inside me as its seed continued to pump into my womb.
It seemed to last forever, this joined climax. Minutes stretched like hours as our bodies remained locked together, connected in the most primal way possible. When the beast finally began to soften, its knot shrinking enough to slip free, I felt empty in a way that had nothing to do with physical sensation.
I collapsed onto the forest floor, too exhausted to move, to think, to process what had just happened. The beast moved off me, and I expected it to leave. Its need satisfied, its dominance established. Instead, I felt myself being lifted, cradled against abroad chest covered in soft fur. My nakedness enjoyed the plush of his pelt. I couldn’t even feel the cool of the metal of my dagger anymore, not with his warmth.
The beast had risen to stand on its hind legs, its form now more man-like than animal as it held me in its arms like a bride. Its amber eyes studied my face with an expression that seemed almost... concerned. As if it cared about my well-being beyond the satisfaction I’d provided.
Cradled against its chest, I felt warmth returning to my limbs. Not the desperate heat of arousal or the feverish warmth of approaching hypothermia, but genuine, life-giving warmth. I could see my breath in the cold night air, but my body no longer shook with it. Something about the beast’s touch, or perhaps the strange energy that had passed between us during our coupling, had banished the cold that had threatened to claim me.
