A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn

So Much For The After Glow | October 16, 2014

I look at the apartment keys in my hand and wonder if I should use them. Then I chide myself internally for being a chicken-shit. I was issued with an ultimatum of sorts, not that my pack mate said that to me, but I can read between the lines. I pause to realise how out of hand this has gotten.

Welcome to my crazy life.

Just when you think things are going well and quiet, shit stirs up again and it’s always more than it seems.

A wet dream equals ultimatums of fidelity and revelations of dark deeds done by lovers past and present. Not that I wasn’t faithful beforehand. Just his ego going bug-nuts over me coming in my sleep because it wasn’t him making me come. Alpha male, why am I surprised?

Try to do the right thing, figure it out, confront your past to move forward with your future and what do you end up with?

What I have now. I put the key in the door and turn it. Push open the front door and look inside the apartment. It’s silent in it’s own darkness, and that makes it seem sinister in it’s own way. When it should just be home to me.

I sigh and lean back against the door closing it, and locking it with one hand, without bothering to look at the task at hand.

“Yeah, lock yourself into the situation you have to front up to.” I mutter not liking what is ahead. “Chicken-shit.” I mutter to myself and push off the door and carry my overnight bag with me to the bedroom.

The door to the bedroom is open and I pause to lean against the door frame and look in on the room. Again, it’s in shades of black and night.

The shape of a male presence in the bed is unmistakable. Paris is lying down his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. He notices me at last and looks at me. I can’t tell what his reaction is.

He is the king of masking his cool. I drop my bag beside me on the floor and start stripping out of my clothing. There isn’t much. A jacket, a top, bra, skirt, and socks. He watches me strip at the doorway. Doesn’t stop me.

“Paris, I’m going to tell you everything you want to hear. All you have to do, is ask me.” He stares at me hard and I know I’m pushing him to open up those emotions of his. A proud werewolf male who has no problem fighting, negotiating business and controlling an entire pack, but speaking about his feelings, well, that’s just a fail.

I watch the rise and fall of his chest but he remains silent. “Silence doesn’t work for you. It creates a lot of negative, misleading energy in your head and in my world.” I pick up all my clothing and grab the bag off the floor and carry it all over to the bed and drop all my clothing that I wore away and back onto the bed beside him.

“I haven’t showered, all weekend. Just deodorant.” I say tossing the bag away again and crawling into the bed. “So if you don’t believe me when I say I didn’t fuck him, go ahead and see what you get on my clothing. But it won’t be much more interesting than my scent.”

All he has to do, is scent me, if he dares.

Paris’s arms drop from behind his head and he moves towards me quickly. Reaching for me. “I love that scent.” He mutters heatedly.”I was so angry and stupid.” He pauses but then continues to grab me and pull me down onto him. I get out before as his face looms before mine.

Our lips meeting and we become engulfed in one another again. Paris’s kiss is deeply desperate for my mouth. Like he wants to cover every last inch of my mouth with is tongue. Like it’s a competition to kiss away the blues.

It’s wonderful now I’m in his embrace and we’re together. I forget that There is a world outside of this, as he cups my face and I creep my body further up his. We’ve missed days of this intensity, as we become all hands and mouth on one another.

“I’m yours.” I gasp between breaths as he leaves me breathless, working his mouth down my throat towards my breasts. I can’t believe I had to go three days without this.

“No more secrets.” I state softly as his tongue flicks out at my nipple. “That includes yours.” I say as his lips suck in my nipple and we push the covers back so I can straddle his lap. Paris stops and looks up at me.

“Yeah, you.” I repeat. “You’re concience, surfaced in Brooklyn this weekend, in the form of a certain Lycan, we both know. ”

Paris is in thought as he hears my words. “So much for the after glow.” He mutters.

“We’re not back there, not anymore.” I say cupping my breasts for him. His teeth graze at my nipples and he lifts my hips up, so I can feel him press against me. Paris slides into me slowly.

It’s like we control time when we make love. The focus on one another’s reactions is what we look for, what we want. Paris opens his mouth as he moans and I can see his teeth are sharpening.

“That’s the trick to this thing, remembering who we are, with one another.”


Leave a Comment »

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

    Arrooo! Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

    Join 465 other followers

    Follow A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn on WordPress.com

    Go hunting if you dare…

    October 2014
    M T W T F S S
    « Sep   Feb »

    Search for posts

    Blog Stats

    • 52,653 hits