Fated Mates: Werewolf Shifter Story

Fated Mates: A Werewolf Shifter Romantic Erotica, a Little Red Riding Hood Retelling

Stella Lovegood

Blurb

A 7.7k word story. A girl in a Little Red Riding Hood costume meets a guy dressed up as the Big Bad Wolf at a Halloween party... Except, maybe, as she later finds out while running through the dark woods away from something even larger and beastlier than any regular wolf, maybe that wasn't a costume after all... A mating/breeding story of animalistic lust.

Trigger warnings: Sex in werewolf shifter form, breeding kink, forced orgasms, impregnation, dubcon.

Little Red Meets the Big Bad

I glanced around the party, feeling my fourth drink hit the bottom of my stomach with a fresh wave of dizziness. Maybe I shouldn't be drinking so much, but I was in the mood to find someone down to fuck, and I always needed a bit (a lot) of liquid courage before I could get into the headspace to fuck a stranger.

The room was a revolving door of creepy and slutty characters. Jeff's Halloween rager was usually

the

event on Point Brook's university campus, exclusive to only the hottest frat boys and sorority chicks.

Everyone was decked out to the nines. Some of the guys were shirtless Jack Sparrows, emo Edward Cullens, glistening cowboys, and, of course, Jason from Friday the 13th with his trademark hockey mask. Those dudes really got a kick out of creeping up behind girls and scaring the bejeezus out of them, with the sole aim of being able to catch and feel them up when they stumbled backwards.

In sharp contrast to the rough and chiseled man freaks, the girls were visions of softness: eclectic assortments of Playboy bunnies, half-naked Tinkerbells, and bikini-clad sirens.

I myself had come to this dark affair in a slutty gothic Little Red Riding Hood outfit, and I loved the way it made me feel. Sultry and powerful, I slinked around the room, drawing attention from almost every guy I passed. My outfit was skimpy in the very best scenario. Sure, I had on a luscious cloak the darkest shade of blood red possible, but it fell open at my front to reveal a mini-corset (basically a frilly little bandeau that cupped my breasts like loving hands, propping me up so that my cleavage was

to die for

) that ended at the base of my ribcage, leaving my flat belly exposed.

Hey, if I worked out for my abs, I was gonna show them off!

From my waist down, I had on a dainty little plaid schoolgirl skirt that did little to cover my ass cheeks whenever I bent forward, pretending not to know what effect I was having on the guys behind me, and thigh-high garter stockings that accentuated my shapely legs. I sauntered around the room in my devilish high heels like a little minx, gaining more and more confidence with every shot I threw back.

I wasn't ashamed to admit that I looked like fucking dessert under the neon strobe lights dancing across my bare skin. Cloaked in the swirling darkness, I felt very much like a classic femme fatale. I was just waiting for the right guy to get in the sack with, someone I could work my magic on. I wanted passion and rough sex, the kind that left me breathless and screaming, even a little scared.

I needed it. I thirsted for it. This cutesy little bookworm had her dark side.

I had arrived here with a couple of my Alpha Chi Omega sorority besties, but Bethany and Macy had long since gone off with their boy toys, practically moaning on first contact. I'd laughed, wondering how they did it without ingesting a bucketload of alcohol first. Alcohol was basically my secret weapon, loosening me up so that I was ready for anything.

Before I could head over to the drinks table for yet another shot, a man I'd never seen before on campus swept right in front of me, preventing me from taking another step further. He was there so suddenly I didn't have time to stop; I slammed into his broad frame, the top of my head nearly smacking his chin. I nearly tripped backwards in my attempt to detach from (a rather hot) body, only to be pulled right back against his hard chest, my tiny waist scooped into his thick arms.

"Don't think you should be drinking anymore, Luna," the guy so tall he apparently had his head up in dark clouds said to me, sounding vaguely amused. Instantly, irritation erupted within me.

Excuse me. Condescending much? Also, wrong chick!

"Don't police my consumption," I snapped at him, trying to extricate myself. I might be looking for a quick lay, but that didn't mean I wanted an asshole in my asshole. He didn't budge an inch though, keeping me entrapped in his grip. I placed my arms on his pecs, annoyed surprise flickering across my face at the fact that he was built like a fucking fridge. "And, secondly, you've got the wrong girl, so I think

you

might be the one overly drunk. Let go of me, you caveman."

"But cavemen don't let go of their prize," he murmured huskily into my ear, making my spine stiffen. I glared resolutely at him, trying to crane my neck backwards so I could see who the daft brute I was talking to was.

"This is not me

swooning

for you, doofus," I spat at him. I struggled against his hold, which only encouraged him to lower one of his hands to cup my ass brazenly, in some misguided attempt to dominate me. I gasped, my annoyance sky-rocketing.

At the same time as my arousal, unfortunately.

The two weren't supposed to be connected,

I thought haughtily.

And yet. As he kneaded my ass cheek with a certain possessiveness he'd never earned, my traitorous pussy began to feel wet.

Fucking hell. Well, as long as he couldn't tell.

I finally peeled myself enough off his chest to be able to meet his icy gaze. Cue another gush between my legs.

Fuck

, this guy was the epitome of perfection, with ungodly chiseled cheekbones and windswept hair (

How?

How was it windswept

indoors

?!). He had a healthy, bristly beard and looked like he belonged in a Viking cosplay. Under some bulky pads of fur skin that strategically layered him like warrior armour, his muscles flexed and rolled with every movement he made. There didn't seem to be a single inch of fat on his body.

Ugh, why were the most annoying people always the most blessed in the looks department? I hated him on sight, a feeling that was only exacerbated with each ticking second I had to spend staring up at his loose smirk, that goddamn twinkle in his swirling black pools for eyes. For a second, they glinted the fiercest yellow, but it happened so quickly that I thought it must have been a trick of the light.

If he was trying to fit the stereotype of a caveman, he was winning at it.

"Are you sure about that?" he whispered, his gaze capturing mine in a standoff before slowly dipping to take in the view of my cleavage pressed up against his chest. His eyes darkened and flashed. His naughty hand on my ass dipped between my legs (right in front of everyone! He wasn't exactly being discreet) and dragged obnoxiously along my slit. I closed my eyes upon the contact, unable to stop a gasp from leaving my lips, feeling a fresh gush rush through me. Struggling to remain in control, I put a hand on his wandering arm and pulled him off me.

"Don't touch me like we're together," I growled at him, trying to put some distance between us. He let me go, amused, only to stalk closer to me, matching my every step with an even longer stride. Before I could blink, he had me pressed up against the wall, hovering over me like a cage.

"Oh, but we are, little one," he growled back, his warm breath fanning my face. I stuttered at that, suddenly getting this vague intuition that this guy... wasn't exactly human. Something about him seemed too... animalistic to be human. An undercurrent of hyper-violence and wild masculinity sizzled off him. I got the sudden sense that he could rip men apart with his bare hands and not experience even a morsel of regret or guilt over it.

Maybe his bulk and height should have given it away before, since he seemed to tower over me even more than the typical jock, but still. I'd chalked it up to a lunatic on steroids. Not to mention his otherworldly looks.

But now? Calling me little one? Something about that just sounded... inter-specific.

Unless he was just being condescending.

But, that was impossible, right? I loved the idea of the supernatural as much as the next chick who swooned over Jacob Black, but that had always been fantasy. Yet, something did seem unnaturally magnetic about this guy.

Was my attraction towards him even wholly my own? Or was there some other force playing with my mind?

That was when I noticed his ears. My eyes widened when I saw how pointed and large they were. Peering closer at them, it almost looked like he was wearing furry ears; I wondered for a moment if he was a part of the furry community or something. That might explain why his body was clad in furry skins. They were so realistic, they almost looked surgically adhered to him. I half-wondered if I should try tugging them off.

Deciding to play true to my Little Red Riding Hood costume for the night, I jibed at him, "Wow, what big ears you have." I cocked my hip to the side, resting my hand on it for extra sass.

A low smirk played across his face. I hated the way it actually did elicit a pull in my core towards him. He leaned in closer to me, letting me study his ears even more up close. They definitely seemed real...

"All the better to hear you with," he muttered, his breath tickling my own ear.

I couldn't help it; I barked out a snort of laughter. "Yeah, right. If you actually could hear me with your 'supersonic hearing,' you'd have left me alone by now."

His smirk only deepened. "That's not what your body's saying. I can hear your heart thundering across your ribs."

He trailed his next words like breadcrumbs along my collarbone.

"Hear your pussy melting for me."

My mouth dropped open at his brazenness. He laughed lowly, his eyes flashing, as his fingers crept up to my face and traced my lips. I twisted away from him, offense quickly building up to enforce a barrier between us.

"Gee, what a big mouth you have," I shot back at him, not thinking the remark all the way through.

It was true that his big mouth was loud and impudent.

But, I was practically laying down my own trap. He laughed lowly, his voice rubbing across my neck like whiskey.

"All the better to eat you...

out

with."

Fuck

. I'd walked myself right into that one.

It should have been corny and stupid. But his remark almost left me whimpering under his molten gaze. Completely confused and not liking the way my body was reacting to him, I crossed my arms so that he couldn't press his body right up against my breasts and glared up at him. "You really need to work on your pick-up lines."

He stared at me for a long moment, his gaze roaming my face as if trying to commit every line to memory. Then he chuckled lowly, raising a finger to trace my cheek. I hissed, taken aback as his sharp nail came into contact with my skin, enough to draw a line of blood. Instantly, his eyes dilated, his nostrils flaring slightly. I could only stare alarmed at him as he leaned impossibly close to me, so much that I was buried in his neck, smothered in his masculine scent.

Damn, did this psychopath have to smell so good? I just wanted to curl up in his cologne, make a nest in it.

"I don't need to work on anything. You are my mate, and I'm going to breed you."

Okayyyyyyyyyy

. I reeled back as if I'd been slapped, appalled at his audacity. I'd had some obnoxious frat boys try to fuck me raw before, but I was always pretty strict on them using condoms. And it's not like any of them actually

wanted

to impregnate me. This guy sounded way more jealous and possessive than the usual freaks.

And yet. Something about him wanting to claim me had my nipples hardening under my corset, straining against the coarse fabric, straining towards him. As if he could sense it, he trailed his nose along the smooth column of my neck, breathing me in like I was his own personal brand of heroin.

Was he

sniffing

me?!

The alcohol of our proximity was making me delirious. Part of me wanted to let go and just let him take me. I wanted to drown in the waves of pleasure that he seemed to promise darkly to me. So, before I could do something I really regretted, like actually let this asshole make me pregnant and ruin the rest of my college years, I shoved hard against his frame.

He didn't move at all. He was as immovable as a brick wall. I groaned, actually stomping my foot down petulantly—then gasped as he caught the back of my knee with his hand and dragged my leg up to his hip. Before I could stop him, he had his other hand shoved under my pitiful excuse for a skirt, expertly finding the narrow strip of my g-string and teasing the petals of my pussy. A shocked moan escaped my lips as he played with me, making me bloom even more under his coy ministrations.

"You can't just do that!" I huffed at him, trying to resist the heady feelings rising up from between my legs as he worked steadily at my entrance. He was so unaffected, simply watching my face stoically as he languidly dragged his calloused fingers around my entrance. The only reaction I could detect was the growing storminess in his eyes as he felt my wetness stain his rough skin. The more he witnessed me with a stoney face, the more incensed I became, hating the way my body reacted to him.

When I tried to protest though, my voice failed me. "Stop... stop it..." I struggled to breathe out, my words lacking any real conviction. I weakly balled my hands into fists and beat his chest, but I realized to my horror that I'd only begun to grip his shirt, starting to pull him closer to me as if I needed him. Humiliating whimpers left my mouth as my head fell back against the wall against my will.

"No, please, no," I murmured meekly as his fingers conducted me like an orchestra, drawing out an increasing crescendo of a pulse. I squirmed under his touch, knowing that it wouldn't take me long to spill over the edge if he kept at it. I hated that he was making me feel all these wicked things. An ungodly moan erupted from my lips as his fingers shifted to brush my little button, drawing tantalizing circles against my pulsing bead. I caught myself starting to rock into his palm and admonished my body's betrayal.

"No, I won't," I stubbornly muttered in between breathy gasps as I tried once again to regain control of my body. I shook my head frantically, trying to will myself out from under his spell.

"Yes, you will, darling," he only murmured back, a smirk finally breaking across his lips. I stared up at him through hooded eyes as he grinned wolfishly down at me. "I can smell your wetness. Feel you right on the brink of coming for me. You want this. You

need

me. And I am going to give it to you, baby. Just you wait."

"I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't even remember your last name."

I gasped, my eyes fluttering shut as he suddenly thrust his dick up against my wet pussy. Even though he was still fully clothed, there was no mistaking the size of his member. He was fucking packing. My pussy throbbed even harder at his full-on contact. I pressed meekly back against him. "D-don't," I stuttered, even as my hand fisted in his shirt, doing the opposite of my words, pulling him closer.

He ground himself roughly against my entrance, his fingers continuing to stroke my hot button teasingly at the same time. I was already on the unstoppable climb, spiraling towards certain self-destruction. My breath left my lips in a series of hot little stutters as I struggled to hold on and not give in. Every time I managed to slide my eyes open just the tiniest bit to look at his face, his smirk only infuriated me, making hatred curl up in my chest like a black cat settling into its nest.

Right before I could spiral out of control and buck against him, he abruptly withdrew, turning away from me and disappearing into the crowd as if he'd never looked at me with such desire and fire. All I heard in the split second before he denied me the orgasm he'd first attempted to force from me was "That should be enough to get you to heat."

What the fuck?!

My hatred doubled, tripled, as I glared at his back, as he left me stranded and abandoned against the wall, my pussy still on display to the crowd. His huge hulking frame had blocked out everyone from my notice earlier, but now I felt hyper-aware of the giggling stares, the wolf calls from the boys witnessing my epic humiliation. This guy had brought me nearly shrieking into possibly the best climax of my life, then denied me right before I could claim it, leaving me frighteningly hot and bothered.

Oh, how I

hated

the bastard! Quickly straightening my roughed-up outfit, I nearly bucked anyway from how close I was, my need still pounding through me like a sledgehammer. I tried to walk away, but had to steady myself against the wall, my legs trembling.

Damn that dickwad! Who the fuck did he think he was?

Flustered, I finally managed to get away from the gossip, stumbling down the hallway and wrenching myself out through the backdoor onto the porch. Ugh, I'd been worked up into such a horny daze that I just needed to feel a fucking dick inside me now. Anyone would do. I was even desperate enough to shove a dildo in me or, heck, even a banana.

Just anything besides that douchebag.

The cool air hit me, immediately encircling me like a fine mist. This time of the night, this late in October, it was chilly, barely tolerable in my skimpy cloak. The full moon was high in the sky, and as I stared up at it, it seemed to laugh at me, mocking me. Huffing, I stomped down the stairs, deciding I would head back home and take care of myself. As horny as I was, I was too humiliated to go back inside and find someone else to sleep with.

I could have walked home the long way, along the cobblestone lane lit by street lamps. But, I was horny and not wholly in control of my decisions now and I just wanted to get back pronto. I knew the shortcut through the woods, having stumbled through there several times with past one-night-stands. I was just about to slip under the cover of the trees when Jackson, one of the guys from the football team that I'd slept with perhaps six months ago, ran up behind me.

"Hey, you," he called, jogging up to me with his hands in his pockets. I turned towards him, my hands flying to my chest as I saw his hockey mask loom out from the darkness. I screamed.

"What the heck!" I reached over to slap his arm as he guffawed, yanking the damn thing off his face. I vaguely noted that his arm felt pitifully small compared to that douchebag's. Just thinking about the sheer circumference of that idiot's arm had me daydreaming about the girth of his dick. I promptly shoved the traitorous thoughts out of my head as I admonished Jackson. "Don't freaking give me a heart attack!"

"Sorry," he chuckled, not sounding at all sorry. Before I could get too mad at him, he scooped me into his arms and began playing with the strings on my corset. "I've been thinking about you. Us. We should get together again."

I almost scoffed but caught myself at the last moment. I

hadn't

been thinking about him at all. Our little tryst half a year ago had left me unimpressed. I wasn't sure why all the jocks I slept with seemed to lack a basic understanding of the female body, but all of them seemed to think just jamming their tongues down our throats and fingers into our holes were enough to get us going. Needless to say, after having to fake cumming for his ego, I wasn't keen on a repeat experience.