A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn

Lunar lust | January 22, 2010

“Shut up and strip.” I command, as Paris walked into the small glass cubicle room. The door latches closed and the clear glass frosts over the walls.

Paris tilts his head and chin downwards, his dark blue eyes staring straight at me, like I’m pretty prey he is going to pounce on.

He is taking too long for my liking, stripping his shirt off. Unbuttoning the collar, and all the buttons down the front.

Come on!

A wry smile ghosts across his lips. He looks somewhere between a desperate man for a drink and something kind of dark and evil.

My gut is doing flip flops really fast. Like butterfly wings beating against it madly, to let them out. So instead of succumbing to his intensity which when he uses it on you, is incredibly hard to ignore or not react to, I decided to play with.

Kind of.

By fighting back with my own sensuality. I’m a female, it’s not like I don’t know a thing or two about the male werewolf species.

I pick up my drink and slowly sip it. Keeping eye contact with him the whole time.

Leaning back on my elbows, on the low rise glass table, in the glass cubicle room. I’ve chosen to ignore the black leather couches for the purpose of reclining suggestively.

Paris yanks his shirt off his arms impatiently.

In our last telephone conversation before the club, he told me in no uncertain terms what he wanted to do with me. He was having a rough day and he was ready to let off some sexual steam, so to speak.

My eyes run over his very muscular, arms. They looked pumped and strong. His chest, lean and solid. I think he’s been dieting or skipping meals because the line definition of his abs, is like playing, a little visual maze game on his skin. Running all around and over it.

He arches an eyebrow up, silently questioning me.

“Not enough.” I reply with a big smile back at him, slowly kicking off my high heel shoes, as I use the edge of the glass table top, to slip them off in response.

He’s late you see.

Said he’d meet me at Crescent. But he was late.

I’ve been sitting pretty and bored, in this room for three and half hours and of course, I didn’t have my mobile phone on me, because the werewolf clubs don’t let you take your phones in on lunar weeks. You have to check them into the cloak room like they’re dangerous weapons or something.

So I’ve been sitting and waiting for him. Drinking and waiting till he showed up.

By the time he arrived, I was wanting more than a verbal apology.

Much more.

I know he wanted more too.

But I’m going to drag this out.
Test him.
Tease and taunt him.

I hadn’t even hit the dance floor in his absence to join the warm comfort of bodies around me. So since I’d played good girlfriend, he owes me. And I’m making damn sure he knows it.

He started on his pants and I let my eyes drop as he pushed them down his solidly, muscular legs.

I smirked when he stood before me stark naked.


He was rock hard, all over.

His hands are curled into fists by his side, I can see the tension in his body. He wants to move towards me. But I’m challenging him by taking command. And by complying with my little game, he’s agreed to be challenged.

Challenging an Alpha male, do you know how competitive they are?

He’s either going to play by my rules now or try in someway to reverse the situation and make me break first.

I’m betting it’s the later. Because I’m going to push his patience level out the window. He’s such a control freak.

“Happy?” He askes roughly.

“Not even close.” I smile back at him, finishing my drink.

“And yet, I’m naked here and you’re not.”

I let out a little laugh and sip my drink.

“I said I was sorry.”

I put my empty glass aside beside the table.

“and I’m going to make you.” I smile, sitting more upright. Hanging my legs over the edge of the table. Putting me directly in front of him.

At hip height.

There is only the briefest of space between us. I look up at him.

He moans deep in his throat.
I haven’t even touched him.
But this is all about anticipation. Building on the impatience and the want and need we both have.

I slide closer to him.

He remains standing still. Waiting for me to call the next shot. Showing his obedience to me.

But before either of us can do anymore, the door openes and we both looked over at Addison in the doorway. His best friend.

“We have a problem.”

I’ll say.

Addison continues, ignoring our dark looks at him. Or the fact that Paris is stark naked before us both.

“Black Dog is back.”


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