I pant allowing her to descend and take in my harden c*ck. Her sharp nails trail along the hard planes of my chest, dragging them teasingly as her heated core wraps around my length.
I could feel her walls stretching to accommodate me, her breathing shallow as a moan slips pass her juicy lips.
" That's right little witch take all of me." I breathed out.
She was tight, hot, and wet. I nearly collapse at the amount of pleasure I felt just by being inside her.
"You're mine." I said in a rough possessive tone as my c*ck break through her maidenhead. Her thighs shook, a painful gasp slips past her lips and those beautiful violet eyes stared at me with submission. My wolf howled in pleasure.
I nearly came undone just by the look she sent me. It was almost enough to send me over the edge. Her lips part, red from my kisses and nibbles. "I'm yours Ares. All of me."
Ought - need/ should
Tis - It is
My fingers curl around the door frame as my little head peeks to look at the huge man talking to mother and father. He was tall and surpassed father by more than a head foot.
I knew it was very unlovely for me to be eavesdropping on their conversation. But I was very much intrigued.
Mother was known for her skillful making of healing potions and other witchcraft expertise. I was very certain that these strangers were here for either one.
"Ester please, our son is dying! I cannot go another day seeing him suffer." The woman cries beside the tall man. Her flaxen hair flows down her back in silky waves. Her hair is very much beautiful.
Mother was usually cool and collected but today I noted that she seemed a bit skittish. Father was also not in the slightest relaxed.
"King Zachary, my wife is trying her very best to see that your son is healed. Please I ask of you to give her a few more days. The boy's sickness is not easy to be cured." Father all but begged.
My mouth formed an 'o'. He must be the werewolf king father and mother had been yapping about earlier.
Now I see why they were uneasy. The man screamed power and the woman wasn't far behind. The man named Zachary had hair the shade of night, dark and hunting.
His broad back is powerful. They were both cloaked in red, the color of blood with golden drawings of wolves imprinted into the fabric. The fabric looked rich, worth more than what mother and father make in a month.
"Isabela, my potions have never failed me. I will promise you this. I will cure your son of this ugly sickness that has plagued him." Mother's voice is sincere though she looked the slightest bit afraid to speak.
"You ought to quicken this up Ester. My son cannot die. He is to be the next werewolf king after my husband. " The woman Isabela cries. "He is my only child, I cannot lose him."