Page 68 of Conner's Luna

"OK, I guess I'd like that. As friends, right?" I throw out. I'm desperate to get us back on even ground. Nothing's really changed. Lydia is still an annoying pest, hovering at the edges of my life. "You don't get to keep giving me orgasms without sorting out your feelings, first."

He smiles and kisses me softly on my mouth again. "Really amazing orgasms, right?"

"N-no," I insist even though it pains me. "No," I say more firmly.

"Fair enough," he says softly. He strokes my cheek softly, "Bailey Madison Washington?"

"What Conner?" my eyes dart to the bathroom door so that I don't have to look at him too closely. I can pretend that Conner hasn't just made me stickier than I've ever been in my life. It's a good thing I do the laundry. This pajama top is a mess.

"Will you date me? Exclusively?"

Shocked, I look back at him. "What about-"

He shakes his head, his finger on my lips. The same finger that was...

He seems to realize that and, grinning, he takes it off my mouth. "Please? I love spending time with you. You make me happy, Bailey. Date me?"

I stomp all over the butterflies in my stomach. Stomp, stomp. "The statistical probability of college sweethearts staying together-"

"Is significantly increased when there are daily orgasms," he smoothly inserts. Jerk.

"I'll think about it," I hedge.

He lights up. "OK." Leaning forward he kisses me again. "One hour." He opens the door and backs up, still grinning at me. He's so handsome that it makes my stupid, girlie heart trip. "You called us sweethearts." Winking, he disappears downstairs.

Woodenly, I step into the shower. Butterflies are knocking around in my stomach. I shower quickly, then step out and towel myself off. An hour is barely enough time to make my hair look semi-tame and knowing Conner he'll be back in one hour on the dot.

I look into the mirror, my hands already unknotting the curler ties, when I spot my neck. They're not noticeable at first because when my skin is still flushed red, but then I see them.

My mouth drops open. "Conner Grim!" I hiss. I have hickeyseverywhere.

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18 - Mind Spinning

Conner

My body starts shaking with a rippling ache that swiftly turns into pain. I know it will be agonizing if I ignore the urge. Muscle flexes and bones break with a scorching pain as if my body is twisting apart under the hands of a maniacal beast.

Finally. This is a welcome, wanted pain. I shift in the woods behind Bailey's house. RedMoon land. It stinks of them.

My wolf needs to be free in his fur like he needs air to breathe. I haven't felt this need since I shifted for the first few times. We have started a Claim, just the very beginning, but already we feel different; powerful, purposeful...happy.

Our muscles bunch as we spring forward, powerful hind legs propelling us faster and faster until the stench of RedMoon fades. With it, the soft, sweet smell of honeysuckle sunk into our skin lingers untainted. We lick our chops, swallowing the flavor of our female down our gullet.

At the edge of our false, borrowed property we stop, panting. It's been a long time since a run felt this good. It would be better if we were on ClearHowl territory, running with our pack, but we still revel in this freedom from pain and indecision. We are alpha. We have a female and she tastes good to us. At this moment, that's all that matters.

On paws, we run in a tight circle, kicking up leaves and dirt. Barking, we whirl, dig a hole in the hard winter ground with our broken paws until we reach unfrozen warmth, then roll in it. We don't stop until every inch of our fur is covered with dirt.

Leaping back to our feet, we pause before trotting back towards Bailey's house. When we're close enough to only just be out-of-view from her house, we stop.

Lifting our hind leg, we piss on a tree, then another, another, until the scent of alpha saturates the air. Satisfied, we start to race back to our spot in the woods. We find the hole again and dig a little deeper before flopping down.

On our back in the hole, we look up into the tree canopy, tongue lolling from our mouth, letting the earth cradle our big frame. We daydream like two pussies, cocks sticking straight up, picturing Bailey's lips under our mouth. Para-fucking-dise.

"You look better, Con," Sean says quietly.

We're back on our feet a second later, barking at my future Beta. He just grimaces at me and sits, leaning against a tree. It's a slow descent as if he's an old cripple instead of a young, healthy male. The strain of these last few months is showing. We are living like lone wolves, or at best a small pack of four, and the alpha isweak.

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