Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 22620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
She screams, her little fingers fisting the fur rug, fingertips dragging through the long pile. I’m buried to the hilt in a sheath so tight it nearly stops my heart.
“Breathe, little witch,” I pant, bending down to bite the curve of her neck where her pulse thrums. “A hound fucks hard and fast. He sees his mate as the ultimate prize, and he loses all control.” My hips piston faster as she wriggles beneath me, her hands clutching the fur for leverage. “You’ll feel it grow. You feel that fur brushing your ass? That’s the hellhound mounting you. Let him in. Reach back and guide that dog cock inside you. Show me how much you want it.”
Her trembling hand slips under her body, reaching back to find the base of my shaft.
“That’s a good girl. Guide him in.”
She moans, loud and long, as she pushes me forward into her heat. She struggles to take me. My cock seems to be enjoying this little fantasy as much as my wife, thickening and locking us together until it’s a struggle to move.
Her moans fuel my hunger, her hand squeezing the base of my dick.
“Back on all fours, wife. You need to hold on.” My fur bristles against her soft flesh as the knot swells, anchoring as I battle to thrust deeper. I drive forward, my balls already threatening to unload, but I’m not ready. I want more of this, more of her.
“That feels so good,” she mewls. “I’m getting that funny feeling, Daddy,” she pants, her opening snapping tight around my cock, so tight I see stars.
“That’s good, little witch. You are the hound’s breeding bitch. You are making him ready to fill you with hot, sticky seed.” I pump in and out, fighting the knot as I rasp, driving harder until her milky thighs tremble. “Scream for me. Milk all the prize from the dog’s balls.”
Her cry echoes through the room as we climax.
Our bodies move together, thrusting and shuddering in a violent spasm that spills my seed inside her. The knot holds us joined as we collapse onto the rug in a sweat-slick heap.
“You enjoy your Daddy as a dog?”
She turns, catching sight of the fur that covers my body, offering me that lusty smile I love. “More than I should.”
“Good. Maybe our next spawn will be a little hellhound pup,” I rasp, lowering us on our sides, kissing her temple. “He’ll adore you.”
“We should introduce ourselves to the neighbors,” she says, so comfortable with me inside her by now, she could give me the grocery list with my dick still spurting, and I would think nothing of it. “What do you think? Invite them for dinner or something?”
We’ve been here for almost six months, but the new neighbors only moved in last week. I know Eve has had her eye on them, checking them out as potential souls to be reaped, but if she’s talking about inviting them over, then I assume she hasn’t found any reason to send them down the dark stairs.
“Sure.” I smooth damp hair from her temple. “Although this time I’ll wear the mask.”
She laughs, nodding. “I love your face, but it does have a certain… effect when we’re in polite company.”
It’s a conjured thing. A flesh mask that makes me look almost human. Ridiculous and ugly compared to my perfection, but mortals are so easily frightened.
A thin wail rises from the nursery. Eve smiles, wiggling as I withdraw from her warmth, my cock cursing me inside my head as he does every fucking time I pull out of her. “Your turn.”
“Definitely,” I agree, grabbing a lush velvet blanket from the back of a chair and covering her with it. “You just stay here and look beautiful. I’ll tend to the diaper.”
Down the hall, inside the nursery painted red and gold, our son’s hands stretch high, beckoning for me to pick him up, and my heart stirs. The perpetual kitten in jet black I created as a pet for Eve, which she named Sunlight, sits on the nightstand, watching over him, her green eyes curious as she listens to Riven cry. She has been as much a protector to him as she has to us, and is a good mouser too. No rats yet, but perhaps when we return to Wintermere, she’ll catch a very particular one.
My son quiets as soon as I lift him, and I settle him gently on my shoulder.
When I bring him back to our room, Eve is propped against the pillows in our bed, hair loose, mouth soft.
I ease him into her arms, and he latches on with a grateful grumble, and I know exactly how he feels. I climb in behind them and bracket them with arms and legs, my chest a wall at her back. My palm settles on her belly again.