08/22/2016 17:35 in humiliation
The autumn air was cool and the scent of burning leaves was strong. The full moon had dominated the sky the night before, and this morning she could feel distant eyes on her. Her lover was coming.
Delilah sighed, and took another sip of her coffee. She wouldn't have long before Shawn and the children woke and the day began, and these moments that she shared only with her coffee cup and the rising sun would come an end. Then it would be time for breakfast and clothes, time to find homework and get everyone out the door. Once the children were out the door she would make a call to her parents to make arrangements for them to visit for the night.
From behind her, Shawn pushed open the porch door. Her husband was a number of years her senior, and possessed the steady gait of a farmer. He stepped outside and walked to the edge of the porch, warming his worn hands on his own coffee mug.
It had been more than a year since Uther, her lover, had last come home. Delilah wasn't sure Shawn would still know the signs, but she was at a loss for how to remind him. She knew that the nights when Uther visited wore at her husband. Shawn hadn't been born here, and their ways were still new to him.
"Company tonight." he said, his voice low. Delilah just nodded in response. Shawn was a strong man, a good husband, and a wonderful father. Much of their farm was tilled by his steady hands, and many of the younger men who owned the nearby farms came to Shawn for experienced advice. Shawn had helped the children learn to climb, taught them to run and play ball, how to work hard and how to be good people. Theirs relationship had started as one of convenience, but time had see it grow into one of trust and friendship, and from there, it blossomed into love.
"Yeah." she sighed. She was at a loss for what else to say, so she nodded, and watched him as he took a sip of his coffee.
"I'll have to keep Michael home today, then. Help me bring in the sheep from the back field. Settle the cattle; they'll be up and about. Chickens, too." he nodded, focusing on the practical and planning his day. Uther's kind disturbed animals as they passed, often fouling milk and breaking the peace at the henhouse. Delilah nodded again.
"Yeah. I'll check with my parents about tonight." she added, keeping her focus on the practical, mirroring Shawn. "Did you want to ..." she began, and Shawn shook his head.
"No, no." he grimaced. "I'll probably ... be up at Bill's, tonight. Be home later tomorrow."
Delilah nodded sympathetically. He'd be late tomorrow because he and Bill would be up late, smoking cigars, drinking, and playing cards. "Sounds good." she said, slowly standing. Shawn continued to look out from the porch, watching the corn field sway slowly in the breeze, as she set her hand to his arm. He turned to face her, and his eyes played back and forth over her face. She smiled, and touched his cheek. "Back to usual tomorrow." she said. "It's just one day."
"One night." he replied, his tone even, though his eyes trembled. "It's just one night."
The children woke one by one, as Delilah made pancakes and eggs, with bacon and toast. It'd have been nice to say that laughter filled the home, as it usually did, but it wasn't so, that day. The children may have been reacting to that tense electricity in the air, the calm before the storm, or it may simply have been a day to be rough and rambunctious; Delilah couldn't be sure. Dutifully, she pressed them all out of the house, off to school or to help their father in the fields.
And, as she often did when stressed, or worried, or waiting, Delilah cleaned. She opened the windows and airing the house, pulled the sheets and pillowcases from the bed she shared with Shawn to wash and replace them. And as she cleaned, she baked.
A batch of raisin oatmeal cookies. A loaf of banana bread. By the time Delilah lifted the second loaf of banana bread out of the oven, the living room was spotless, as was the hall, and the foyer. Setting the bread down, she paused.
There was a smell to the air, a smell other than bread. Delilah turned.
Somehow, silently, a tall, red-headed man had come to be standing in her kitchen. Donnal. She caught herself before she gave him the pleasure of crying out, silently cursing herself for having failed to expect him. She knew little of how the wolves spent their time, but she knew that Donnal and Uther had bad blood between them; they had clashed before, and Donnal was responsible for a number of Uther's more pronounced scars.
In her head, she reminded herself not to show fear. Donnal was here to deliver a message to Uther; she was just the medium. If she was harmed, Uther would be much less likely to listen or co-operate. Donnal wasn't likely to harm her. It wouldn't help his cause.
"Donnal." Delilah said coolly. She turned, and fanned the bread with the tea towel in her hands. "I hadn't expected you. If I'd known I'd have guests, I'd have changed."
The powerfully built man chuckled as he scratched at his rough stubble. "Well. I was in the area, and heard that our mutual friend might be by, later." he said, pulling out a chair at the table. "I thought I'd pop by, see if he was about. Maybe wait around, have a talk with him when he arrives."
He smiled at Delilah, but it was a smile that held neither amusement nor humour. It was a smile that showed his teeth, expressed his dominance over her, here in her kitchen. And he sat at her table, expecting her to serve him..
"Bread will need to cool, a bit" Delilah said. "I have cookies, if you'd like." She was already heading to the fridge, for a glass of cold milk. She knew his answer already.
"If it's no trouble. Don't want to put you out. Oh, thank you. Such hospitality!" Donnal said, his smile still contorted into a broad, menacing grin.
Delilah continued back to the kitchen counter, purposefully showing Donnel her back. Stay timid, she reminded herself. Stay calm. Delilah felt her eyes flicker to the cast-iron pans she used for the bread, to the sharp cutting knives in the knife-block that Shawn had crafted her. She had weapons, if she needed them.
But none that would glisten just so in the moonlight. None that could truly harm Donnel, or any other wolf; none that could even slow him for more than half a moment.
"How many is it, now? Four? Five?" Donnel asked, making a pronounced lip-smacking noise as he set down the rich milk. "It's five, right? Three girls, two boys."
"It's seven, now, Donnel." she said, her finger testing the bread. "Two more boys."
"Two boys! And both right in a row like that." Donnel said, whistling low. "That's a thing, there. He must have been happy with that, a wanderer like him, leaving such a strong legacy."
Delilah paused, reminding herself, again, to keep calm. Donnel was trying to produce a rise from her, and she was much farther ahead to ignore or reject it. "I imagine." she answered, with a shrug. "Don't see him much. Mostly Shawn and I around here." she said, trying to force a smile.
"Oh, of course, of course." Donnel said, nodding. "Just like a wanderer, though, eh?" He tapped his finger on the table, twice, then said, "Never around when you need him."
Donnel's threat was subtle, but not so subtle that Delilah missed it. She tried hard to show no reaction.. "If you'd like, I can tell Uther you were through, looking for him." She paused, to sound more casual. "Sammual was through for him a while back, too, and ..."
"No, no." Donnel said, standing. "It's fine. I'll wait. Why, I'm just getting a taste of what you go through. You wait for him for months, right?" Donnel's smiled again, and it still held no humour and no love. It was the smile of a shark, or crocodile, full of menace and lacking empathy. "I bet," he said, crossing the kitchen towards Delilah, keeping his eyes on her stomach, "that you're waiting for him ... right now."
Delilah deliberately kept her back to the red haired man in his dark jacket, but she felt his hands brush at her hips, and then come to rest on them. He sank his fingers into her flesh there, squeezing her in a familiar way with his unfamiliar hands. She felt her blood run cold, even as Donnel's warm breath rolled over the back of her neck. "It's probably been a while." he said, his voice low, and husky. "Keeping track on the calendar, counting days and weeks. Is it hard, to keep your husband from touching you?"
Delilah's mouth was dry as a bone, but she licked her lips anyway as she brushed her hair out of her face. "Shawn's a good man." she said. "He understands ..." Her breath caught as Donnel's hand slipped up from her hip, sliding up her side, touching at her skin, and she felt his other hand brush at the back of her hair. Anything but this, she thought, mentally crying out for her lover or anyone to arrive and help her.
"It would be hard ... for me ..." Donnel hissed, his voice now carrying a trace of a growl, as he traced his nose up and down her hair, sniffing at her. "With you, so close..."
"Donnel." a strong and male voice said. Donnel's hand caught on Delilah's hip, and she heard a low rumble from his throat, but she turned to wriggle away from him. Uther stood in the kitchen door, leaning on the frame, with his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on Donnel. Delilah spared a glance for Donnel, and saw that his eyes were a golden yellow, and that he held his mouth slightly open to make room for his teeth, which came to sharp points.
"Uther." Donnel said, spitting the word. "So glad you're back. And early."
Uther nodded coolly. "Made good time through the foothills. Now, I think it'd be best if you took your hand off my mate, Donnel." he said, calmly. "Then, head off. I'll come find you in the morning, once I've rested."
Delilah felt her lip twitch, but didn't let herself smile. It could still come to blows between the two, and she wanted to avoid aggravating the situation. She continued to study the cooled banana bread as if it were a fascinating manuscript.
"What need have I ..." Donnel asked, smirking, obviously trying to treat the whole deadly affair as if it were some grand joke, "to listen to the advice of some homeless, territory-less, packless old hound?" As he spoke, his smirk faded to a graven seriousness. "There's nothing you can do to me, old man. Nothing."
Uther regarded the younger man, as they locked eyes. With effort, Delilah continued to bite her tongue. Uther was older that she, and she was older than Donnel by no small margin, but she would like to think she had more than a few years until she would be called "old woman". She turned to leave, hesitantly, when Uther spoke.
"Stay, Delilah. Donnel was about to go." he said, his golden eyes glittering, as his teeth grew, long and white, gleaming in the late afternoon sun shining through the window.
Delilah paused, and Donnel growled, his tone low and cruel. Donnel lowered his head, widened his stance, and narrowed his eyes. Uther didn't respond, instead continuing to stare the younger man down. After a long moment, Donnel turned with a snarl, and stormed from through the porch door. "See you tomorrow, Uther." he spat, as he left.
Delilah released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Donnel was gone. She felt a firm hand on her elbow, and turned to see Uther standing by her. She let Uther pull her into his arms and press her to his chest.
"You alright?" Uther asked, with his voice gruff. Delilah simply nodded. "He's gone, now. Won't be back. Won't be your problem anymore." Uther said, with a tone of finality. "Sorry about that. He's young. Thinks fighting me will make a name for himself. Still too full of piss and cum."
Delilah nodded, but focused on pressing her face into her lover's chest. She saw Uther so rarely; the last time had been more than a year ago. Her body had changed so much since the first time they were together. Back then, she'd had the tight and impressive body of a young woman when they were first together, and now she had the softer, smoother curves of a more ... full, middle-aged woman. But Uther held her just as he always had; one hand to the small of her back, petting the curve there lightly, while the other hand stroked at her shoulder. She pressed her nose against him. The smell was the same scent that she had inhaled on the night she became a woman; Uther carried the scent of musk, and a heavy woodsy aroma with a hint of smoke. Her hand played over Uther's chest through his shirt, and she could tell his muscles were still there. They were perhaps not as tight or tense, but still strong.
"I wondered." Delilah sighed, the missing time disappearing as she melted into Uther. "It'd been so long, I was wondering if ... I mean, I'm getting ..."
"Like wine." Uther said simply, resting his hand atop her buttocks and squeezing. He sniffed at her hair; he'd always been a head taller than her. "... you're exactly the way I remembered."
"Not exactly." she said, giggling, and feeling her cheeks flush. Every time, Uther made her feel young again. "You're early, dinner isn't even made!"
Uther squeezed Delilah close, then let her go. "Then get to work, woman!" he said, with a laugh, starting across the kitchen as she laughed back. He paused to admire the gallery of children's art that was arrayed on the kitchen cabinet doors. "... who's the artist?" he asked, smiling as he studied them.
"Annie, mostly. Rose did some. Riley did that blue one." she said, setting the oven to preheat for her roast. "He's five, you know. And proud of it."
"Five." Uther exclaimed, in a low voice. "I don't know if he's allowed to be five. He ... he makes me feel old." he chuckled. "And Stephen and Thomas?"
"Both are well, and so's Michael. He broke his arm playing football, last fall. Healed fast. Very fast. Told the doctor it was a family recipe, an herbal balm. He ... forgot about it, after a while." she said, sighing, remembering how careful she and Shawn always were about the children; even so, mistakes could happen. "And Clara, and Diedrie, also well. Diedrie had her sweet sixteen, if Riley makes you feel old." she clucked. "Strapless dress; she worked on it for six weeks, fit her better than her skin. Shawn could have had kittens, but she felt so beautiful..." Delilah sighed again. How do you catch up a father on sixteen months in his children's lives in one night? How many details do you include, and what do you leave out? "Annie is some talent in school. Her teachers have her in advanced classes. They say she's got a real head for numbers."
Uther nodded, and went to sit at the table. "Annie, head for numbers. Michael, broke arm playing football. Diedrie, sixteen, made her own dress, too close to a woman." Uther repeated what he was being told; that was his habit, to aid the memory. "... and Shawn?"
He asked the question in an even tone. The two men had met so infrequently, Delilah could have counted the times on one hand, missing a thumb. But every visit, every time, Uther asked after him. Politely. And every time, she answered the same.
"He's a good man. Loves the children like his own. A strong father, too." she nodded. That part was the same response she gave every time, but this time, she added, "... he reminds me of you. A little. Around the edges."
To the first part of her answer, Uther made a grunting noise; the same grunting noise he made every year, approving of Shawn and affirming, as best he could, Delilah's relationship with him. He made a second, less approving grunt, after her addendum. "He shouldn't. Shawn's a good man, you said. Good with kids."
She smiled. She knew of other wolf-brides, or even wolf-husbands, whose mates never asked after their children. Some wolves stole through in the night and simply took what they wanted, often being hurtful or even cruel to their mate's spouses. She'd heard frightening stories before she and Uther were together. But Uther had never been like that. Uther had always wanted to hear about their children, even if he'd never asked to meet them; when Diedrie and Michael were both younger, and Uther was coming through more regularly, he'd read their school reports a few times. Delilah knew he cared more than he let on, and sometimes she got the impression it was maybe more than he was supposed to or was allowed to.
"Well." she said, closing the oven door at last. "The roast is in, so we've ninety minutes until dinner." She turned, and smiled to Uther. He was already smirking, that same terrible, clever, handsome smirk he'd had since the first night they'd met. She felt her face flushing, and a smile breaking her lips, as she continued. "So, is there anything in particular you'd like to..."
He stood from the table slowly, almost carefully. She licked her lips, and felt the smile spread across her face. "... maybe, you'd like a shower?" she asked, teasing. He smiled, and walked steadily towards her. "It's been such a long trip, I mean." She tried hard not to giggle nervously, at his practiced, slow, methodical steps towards her. "You must be tired, too. Maybe a nap, before ...?"
Uther silenced her by grabbing at her wrist and twisting lightly; as she gasped, he swept his arm behind her, and pressed her to him, while aggressively pressing his lips to hers. Uther's tongue immediately darted hungrily into her mouth. Delilah felt herself melt into her mate, the months of absence disappearing into his passionate kiss and strong embrace. Delilah felt that familiar lust for Uther, carnal and unrelenting, and wanted him, just as she always had. She moaned into his kiss, her tongue massaging at his, plying it, trying to pull it in further; she pressed against him, moving her knee against his leg and her hand up and down his powerful back, her other hand grasping his full and strong bicep.
He broke their kiss, and traced his lips up to her ear. The hand that had been behind her back traced her jaw. "I had other plans" he growled, his voice deep and rumbling and strong, a voice that would be menacing if it were coming from any other man. Delilah looked up to catch sight of Uther's eyes. Normally rich and green, his eyes were now the colour of honey in moonlight, a golden hue that told her Uther was longing to touch her as badly as she was longing to be touched.
Uther firmly pressed her against the wall of the hallway, and Delilah squealed with delight. She parted her legs and wrapped them loosely around Uther's own. He lowered his mouth so that his teeth grazed her neck, nipping at her lightly. Uther's strong hand reached beneath her, and hoisted; Delilah felt herself lifted from the ground, raised up by her mate's hand cupping her buttocks as his upper body pinned her to the wall.
Delilah blushed, and murmured, "I'm not as light anymore" glancing down to the ground.
Uther's free hand took hold of her chin, and turned her face so that he could look at his eyes. "I hadn't noticed" he said, and pressed his lips to hers again.
For a wolf, Uther had always had a way with words. Delilah's hands wrapped around the back of his neck, tracing up and down his spine as she twirled his long and dark hair. She caught her fingers in his mane, pulling, pushing, and adoring the treat of kissing her lover. They kissed each other desperately, as if they might not have time to do all the kissing they would want to do, and Delilah's mind played through memories of Uther's lips playing over her body. She could feel the petal-soft folds of her womanhood begin to unfurl as her body began to prepare for Uther.
Breaking their kiss, Uther firmly held her chin as he pushed her face to one side, moving to nuzzle and nip at her neck again. "Your skin is so soft ..." he said, releasing a sigh that had the timbre of a growl. Deliliah sighed to match and clutched at Uther's shoulders..
"I've missed you ..." Delilah purred, pulling Uther in close. "You feel so ... good, next to me." As Uther nibbled at her neck, she took his earlobe in between her teeth and pulled lightly, drawing forth a pleasantly gruff growl from her partner. She exhaled slowly, letting her warm breath play over his ear.
With a growl, Uther pulled Delilah forward, then pressed her back against the wall with a thump. She squealed and giggling, letting her eyes going wide at Uther's display of strength. A quiver moved down her thighs, and Uther's hand squeezed at her buttocks almost as if in response. At the same time, Uther's free hand took hold of the collar of her shirt, as a low, rumbling growl rolled forth from his throat.
"No, no, wait, I love ... aww ..." Delilah hurriedly began, but Uther continued, and dragged his clawed hand down and across her shirt. The shirt tore open, the sharp talons on Uther's hands easily slicing through any resistance. His hand slipped under the remains of the shirt to cup Delilah's breast, squeezing it's plump roundness through the lace bra she wore. She felt her nipples firm quickly in response to her lover's experienced touch, and heard herself sharply intake a breath. "Oh, Uther ..." she moaned, as Uther nipped again at her neck while he rubbed over her nipple with his thumb.
"I'm going to have you" Uther growled, as Delilah moaned in response. The sound of Uther's voice excited her, and she thrilled to have him speak to her so firmly. "I'm going to take you, and fill you, just like you want."
She paused, hesitating for only one beat, before she nodded. "Yes ..." she panted. "... Uther, please ... I want to ..." He prevented her from finishing, covering over her mouth with his. As he did, she felt Uther's hand which supported her buttocks tense; he closed the hand, and she felt sharpened claws from the tip of each finger skim over her panty hose, before they caught. He pulled, with a wonderful ripping sound, he tore a hole through her leggings.
She could feel Uther's hand on her skin now, flesh to flesh, squeezing and releasing rhythmically, and her body tingled in response. Uther's touch was electric and she began to feel a dull ache growing between her legs. Uther pressed against her, pushing her firmly to the wall to hold her up by the torso, so he could move his hand so that his thick and wide thumb could push against the soft skin of her inner thigh, no more than two inches from her rapidly moistening sex. Deliliah strained outward with her hips, arching them, adjusting her angle to try to give Uther's hand access to her treasure, and she felt her thigh brush a firm thickness, already proud, even through his pants. As the length of his shaft rubbed against her, he rotated his own hips, thus rubbing his still-covered cock against her.
"Oh, Delilah." he moaned. "You feel so good ..."
Delilah reached down, and struggled with the buckle on Uther's belt, as his thumb played over her mound. She moaned into her lover's touch, and curled her hips, eager for him to touch her more. He traced a finger up and down her moistness, as she fumbled with the button on his pants. "Your shirt" she panted; "Let me feel you..."
Uther lowered her, widening his stance only slightly. A he lowered Delilah down, the calloused tip of his finger played against her treasured entrance but did not push inside. Delilah lowered her feet so that she was standing, as Uther pulled off his shirt in one smooth motion, revealing his muscular and dark-haired torso. Delilah gasped as she saw a new scar on Uther's side, pink and raw and recent. Uther caught her hand as she reached for it, his grip solid as a vice.
"It's nothing" he said. "Forget you saw it." Delilah nodded in response, and Uther released her hand to take hold of the middle of her shirt. She had only begun to raise her hands when Uther, with a jerking motion, split what was left of the shirt in two, tearing along the front as the cloth offered no resistance. An electric shock ran through Delilah as she gasped, suddenly vulnerable and naked before Uther and full of desire for him, wanting to feel him touch her.
With his pants undone and the bulge proudly obvious, Uther lowered himself before her, to his knees. From there, he reached up, took hold of the waist of her skirt, and undid the buckle on it with ease. Uther let her skirt fall to the floor, then took hold of the top of Delilah's tights. He tugged at them, grunting, and she obeyed, stepping out of them as soon as they hit the ground, watching as Uther threw them down the hall and away.
Still kneeling, Uther traced his fingertips along the top of Delilah's thighs, while the other hand cupped her buttocks, pressing her lightly towards him. He watched her womanhood, which she knew would be glistening and moist now, and he smiled at it, as if it amused him, and licked his lips. Delilah reached down with one hand, and Uther responded by pulling gently at one of her legs, spreading her stance, more fully exposing her jewel to his sight. Delilah bit at her lip. Uther had a talent for making her feel vulnerable and exposed, seeming to take pleasure in such moments, and as she felt a flush spread across her chest, she knew this was such a time. She chuckled and ran her hands through her lover's hair.
"You feel so good." Uther repeated, his voice ragged, while his hands traced up and down his mate's inner thigh. Then he smoothly raised Delilah's leg, setting it over his shoulder, and bringing his face down to rest just along the peach-fuzz that had accumulated, there. Delilah made a noise; she wasn't sure if it was to protest or, perhaps or to offer timid explanation for the fact she was not clean-shaven. Regardless, Uther interrupted her protest with a flick of his tongue.
As Uther held Delilah's thigh, dangling her foot over his shoulder, she felt his wide but nimble tongue dance over her sweet warmth, and a crackling fire overtook her nerves. She shrieked, a sound transferred directly from her mound to her mouth, again and again, without pause. Her thighs shuddered, and her hand closed around Uther's hair as he lapped and licked and swirled with his tongue, and Delilah felt herself repetitively tighten then release, urging and ready. She moaned and took hold of the back of Uther's head as her body began to crave the feeling of fullness and penetration.
"Uther" she moaned. "Oh, Lord..." She had spoken to other Wolf Brides, in private moments. They, like her, called their mates bestial, primal, and carnal. But when she compared Uther to the others, he seemed caring, perhaps even gentle. Uther was always sure to touched her in ways that pleased her, instead of just satiating his lusts. "Oh, Uther, please, I ... can you ..."
Even as she started to ask, though, Uther was already caressing his hand along her inner thigh. His thumb slipped in to join with his tongue in teasing Delilah's pink pearl, while his fingers stroked up and down between her wet lips, pressing at but never pressing in her entrance. She shuddered, and the balance of her weight shifted, but Uther's hand on her thigh comfortably held her supported, as if she weighed no more than a feather.
Her right hand buried in his hair, she pushed Uther's head closer, now made brazen by her lusts. She wanted to feel him stroke at her, wanting to feel his fingers slip gently up inside her and press against her warm walls, to feel herself stretching in preparation for Uther's cock. She whimpered, and ran the fingernails of her left hand over the back of Uther's hand as he stroked her, trying to communicate her desires.
She knew he understood, but he wanted to tease her; she could hear it in the low chuckled he gave. His tongue worked down, and then up, getting a taste for her, using her own juices to lubricate her budding climax. Uther's fingers playing over the entrance between her lips, constantly threatening, or promising, to spread her; his thumb alongside her pearl, pulling the hood up and away; his tongue, working furiously and cleverly, to tease and taunt and please her. Fire swirled around her womanhood, sending off dangerous sparks that threatened to consume her whole body; she felt her hips working her further up and against Uther's hand, desperate to lure it in.
"Touch me" she begged, and then bit her knuckle, as the sparks began to smoulder across her body. "Uther, please" she panted around her finger.
His finger's entrance was cruelly slow; the tip slipped into Delilah, and she quivered in response. She felt his finger stretch her, since her oncoming climax had clenched her, as her body fervently squeezed at something that wasn't yet there. She gasped, and cried out; his finger felt as full and wide as the whole of him, the calloused pads rubbing against her walls, seeking out the spongy patch which afforded her the most pleasure. One finger became two, and together they found her tenderest place, pressing and calling to her.
"Do you feel it?" Uther asked, the smile obvious in her voice. She nodded, and made a mumbled sound of assent, as she was too far gone, too tensed and taut and fit for bursting to manage words. Even as he spoke, pausing his tongue, his fingers worked her, inside, relentlessly pressing. "Do you feel me, Delilah? Are you ready, ready to give yourself to me?"
She nodded, desperate; her climax was close, and Delilah felt desperate for it, eager to have Uther push her up and over that precipice. "... yes!" she breathed, hungrily.
Uther then clamped his lips around her nub, pushing it's hood back with his upper lip and sucking, using his tongue to tease her tip. Delilah's hips were driven to a near-frenzy, and she pulled hard at the hair on his head, but he just pressed with his fingers, and she cried out; the tiny sparks inside her had become embers that burst into flames within her, as his fingers probed insistently at that tender spot inside her. She screamed.
Delilah screamed, because it was at last too much; she screamed as the firestorm raced up and down her body, burning her nerve endings to cinders. Uther had touched her, rubbed her, pressed her onward, and now she had burst and her pleasure tore from her. Her climax was raw and raging, a primal cry of pleasure that echoing through the empty house.
Delilah convulsed in Uther's grasp, rocking on his hand, pressing herself against his fingers so as to draw forth as much climax as she could. Her skin was flush and hot, and she gasped for air as wave after wave of wonderful, rippling pleasure washed through her, cascading up, down and around her body.
As the sensations subsided, Delilah received no opportunity to relax or go limp. Uther held her leg suspended, her feminine self exposed to his face, and as Delilah felt the heat racing across her skin begin to ease, Uther lifted her suspended leg, pulling her from him, and took hold of her hips with both hands.
With a twist and a shove, Uther dropped her to the ground in front of him. Delilah gasped at the sudden feeling of the carpet under her hands and knees, and she turned her head as she lowered it, so that her cheek lay to the ground. She spread her knees as she felt Uther's hands again take hold of her hips, to better expose her flush and ready sex to her waiting mate. She felt her back curl, as she made herself ready for the taking.
The world hesitated for a moment, and Delilah heard herself breathing, ragged and desperate gasps. From behind her, there was a growl, a deep, husky voice from the back of Uther's throat, and she could hear him hastily lowering his pants to ready himself. Delilah opened her mouth to speak, and Uther silenced her with a loud snarl. Delilah swallowed, and prepared herself.
Uther took her in force, now; in one smooth motion, he moved the length and width of him into her, and she felt him fill her completely. More than a year without Uther's cock inside her had left her feeling empty and depleted, and now she felt herself stretch and pull around Uther's shaft, struggling with the sensation of the thick knot at the end of his shaft expanding, locking the two of them together. Uther's hands pulled back at her hips, as he pressed into her with a burning urgency, and she felt the sharp tips of his claws graze her skin there. Uther exerted substantial strength as he pulling her hips back and up to meet his, squeezing himself in an additional half-inch and squeezing a muffled cry from Delilah's mouth. Once as much of him as possible was within her, he moved his hand up to the back of her neck.
Uther's firm hands held the two of them in that position for a moment, with his shaft full and rigid within her, the thick end of his dick holding him tightly inside her. She could feel Uther's thick shaft pumping, and feel the cum pushing into her, bit by bit. While practically holding her hips up with his cock, Uther squeezed with his clawed hand on her soft hip to guide her body, and his other hand clenched around the back of her neck, demanding submission. Delilah bit her lip, and groaned, unable to resist, the pain exquisite as she felt her body reshape itself, her interior muscles bending and flexing, readying themselves for his seed.
Subtly, she nodded; it was not meant to be a signal to Uther, but to herself, reassuring herself she was ready for what was to follow after. Uther could be a kind lover, and a giving one, but when his climax stirred, he was not a gentle one.
His first motion was a small one; a rocking of his hips, to reposition himself inside his mate, and Delilah groaned as she felt the bulging head of his cock press against her cervix, spraying it with his seed. She made a noise to ask for mercy, but cut the words short, as she wasn't even certain she wanted it. It would make no difference either way; Uther was too far gone now to be concerned with mercy.
Uther pulled himself back within her and Delilah hear herself whimper as the knot strained against her, too wide to be pulled free. She trembled at how how quickly she had become accustomed to the pressure of his swollen cock pressing against her from the inside. Just a moment without him fully buried inside her was enough for her to long for his length to again be filling her to the hilt. She need not have worried, though, as half a moment later, she heard herself whimper again as Uther drove himself fully into her again; the meaty thump of his hips slamming against her buttocks shuddered through her body. She felt another jet of hot cum spill out from the swollen head of his cock, and a rhythm began to overcome her.
Delilah thrust herself back against Uther, rocked forward, and thrust back again, and again. She grunted with each thrust, feeling herself being overtaken by a instinctual drive, her body moving alongside Uther's. Each time his cock pressed against her inside, she felt another stream of his seed, and her fingers dug into the carpet, clinging and holding on. Uther's clawed fingers dug into her hips, pawing at her, and Delilah could feel that her mate was every bit as hungry and desperate as she was, with breathing every bit as raw and ragged as hers. Consumed by lust, they panted in unison, and it felt as if their pulses had come to match, given purpose by Uther's taking of her. Delilah knew from experience she would feel the marks her lover's hands on her hips for the next week, but that the pain would cause her to think back on this night and smile.
Uther snarled, and bore down on Delilah as his tempo sharply increased. He no longer withdrew even as much as he had before, instead just barely maneuvering inside Delilah, the thrusts staccato and his breath ragged. She could feel his member swelling and twitching inside her, preparing to explosively empty itself, as her own muscles tightened around it, pulling and pleading. Her husband Shawn knew her body and knew how to bring her body to a wonderful, warm, glowing climax, but her body belonged to Uther; he could command it and stir it; it was Uther than could give her a climax that could reduce her to tears, leaving her sodden and throbbing on the ground. Delilah was Uther's mate, and she was his to take as he would.
Delilah could not stand the wait any longer; the tension across their flesh, the twitching of his cock, the priming of her body had grown too much. She cried out, a strangled, desperate cry. "Please ..." she murmured into the carpet. "Please, Uther; fill me. Fill me again. Give it to me."
Uther growled in response, and his hands moved from her hip and neck to her upper arms; with both hands, he pulled, lifting her head from the floor, suspending her by pulling back on her arms as he shoved aggressively into Delilah. "Oh, oh, yes ... yes, please ..." she moaned, and inside her, she felt his cock answer, throbbing, pressing relentlessly toward a climax. He snarled, and tightened his grip, holding her still, forcing her body down and his hips up. She felt the thick knot atop his cock swell, and felt her moist muscles tighten in response, squeezing his firm flesh so hard it could burst...
And then, wonderfully, it did.
Uther arched his head back, and howled, and his claws sank into Delilah's flesh. She screamed, as her second climax raced across her as a ripple, then a wave, and as Uther's claws sank into her arms, a torrent. She felt her muscles tense and squeeze, as she pushed back desperately at her mate, straining to push his full length deep into her so that she could to best soak herself in Uther's vital seed. Inside her, she felt his knotted cock pump and pump, spraying of his thick cum, basting her womb and filling her with child. Her shriek of pleasure echoed in the hall as her climax echoed through her body, resonating in her lungs and threatening to cause her heart to explode. Her sheath pulled and milked at Uther's shaft, craving and hungry for every drop, and he grunted, and again, as she felt his cock plant his load deep inside her.
Her climax a still-twitching, rippling, wondrous thing, Uther lowered her arms, letting her body come to lay on the carpet.. She sighed, satisfied, her body spent and used. She felt her sex still throbbing, soaking in Uther's cum, pleased and full now. Uther's hand, no longer clawed, rubbed at her shoulder, then ran down her side to her hip, to hold her from behind; bowing in against her, his lips and teeth again played over the back of her neck. Trying to keep his cock within her to prevent any of his cum from escaping as he helped her twist her legs, propping herself up to better give his seed time to find soil.
Uther panted into the back of her neck, and he kissed her, more tenderly than before. Delilah giggled, and her mate stroked her hair. "The bed might have been more comfortable." she said, her biceps beginning to throb lightly from the claw-marks Uther had left, as the endorphins in her body settled back down to normal.
"Too far away" Uther whispered to the nape of her neck, his low voice echoing along her spine. "I could never have made it." he chuckled, and she laughed, playfully slapping his hand.
They held each other. There was no rush; they had all night to enjoy each other's bodies, now. But for the time being, they laid there together on the carpet in the hallway, pleased and holding each other.