The Werewolf Order (Erotica)

Coral stops abruptly, tugging on his arm to force him to face her; she keeps her emotions in check, studying his disapproving face, “Vadim-do you trust me?”

“You know that I do, sister,” his voice is pained, “despite everything.”

She feels like crying but doesn’t dare, focused on the delicateness of the situation, “The things you told me you wanted are possible with Lynette. If you take the time to court her, to get to know her, I think you will find that she is a good woman. You two could find love; you could have a family. You can be happy.”

Vadim studies her face, the anger melting off of his; he realizes that she doesn’t do this to get rid of him, she does it because she cares about him. He sighs, dropping his gaze, “If you say it is so, then I will believe you. But you very well know that if I have a bairn, I will abdicate the throne. I know how Quell feels about it and leaving all of that upon Wistan’s shoulders-”

Coral cuts him off, “Vadim, please-none of this is any different than it would be if you refused to take a mate. It is noble that you are thinking of your country above yourself, but in this instance, you must let someone else deal with that problem when it arises.”

He sighs, relenting, “All right, Coral.”

Coral smiles and gives him a brief hug; he wraps his hands around her waist. She knows he is reluctant to let her go but she pulls back none the less, just as Lynette arrives with her parents. Coral plasters a smile on her face and makes the introductions.

Vadim puts a pleasant smile on, an upbeat tone in his voice, “With your permission, Laire, I’d like to take a walk with your daughter in the gardens.”

Laire hesitates, “But of course, Prince Vadim. I would be happy to chaperone the two of you.”

Vadim looks surprised, it not occurring to him that they wouldn’t trust Lynette to be alone with him, “Oh, of course…”

“Perhaps,” Coral rests a gentle hand on Laire’s forearm, “I could be of some assistance? That way you and your mate could enjoy the party.”

“I wouldn’t dream of asking you to abandon your own celebration, Lady Coral,” he says.

She laughs, “Please, Laire, it would be my pleasure-I could do for some air. The only thing I want more than a reprieve would be a bath.”

He chuckles, “All right then, I am sure they would feel more comfortable with your watchful gaze then with mine, anyhow.”

Laire bows slightly before walking off with his mate in tow. Lynette turns to Coral, mouthing a relieved thank you, before Vadim offers her his arm and they stroll out the tall glass doors and into the castle gardens.

Coral follows at a respectable distance, dropping herself onto a bench where she is still within eyesight of the pair, though she doesn’t bother watching as she knows Vadim will behave himself. She leans back onto her hands, looking up at the night sky above the high mountain peaks. The garden is nestled in a large courtyard between the main castle and the back of the mountain, full of wonderful tall grasses and hearty flowers, ornate stone work and a crushed rock path. The moon sings to her as she fondly remembers gazing upon it often, from her small bedroom window in the cabin she shared with Piers. She feels an odd ache for her old home, wondering what the people are doing, how her guardian is getting on without her. She wonders if Rainer would allow her to travel with them on the next Atonement in three years-she would very much like to visit him and assure him that his worries were ill conceived and that the centaurs are among the kindest creatures she has known.

She hears the crunching of gravel and glances over her shoulder to see a smiling Quell walking up. He circles the bench, before dipping down to his knees, his blonde back glowing in the moonlight, “Had enough of the party, my love?”

She leans down to him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips, “Yes, I have, though I am glad everyone is having a good time.”

Quell glances over to his brother; Vadim tenderly runs his hand over Lynette’s cheek, before leaning in and placing a soft kiss on it.

“It seems they are getting on well,” he says quietly.

“Yes, they are,” Coral softly replies sweetly, though there is a tinge of jealousy burning inside of her, “for everyone’s sake, I hope that they are able to make it work.”

Quell smiles at her, “As do I, though now we have to start taking Wistan out so he will find his mate as well. With any luck, in a few years, they will bare a foal and Centuarna can rest easily.”

She doesn’t respond, feeling a sadness tug at her heart strings. It is so easy for him to disregard having bairn of his own, that he mistakes her faded smile and silence for tiredness. He pulls her off of the bench and to his back, “Come, Coral, perhaps we should go take a bath.”

Happily she slides over his fur, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning her head on his shoulder, “I would love that-but I am chaperoning. I’d hate to get on Laire’s bad side.”

“No need to worry,” Quell chuckles, “I asked Reid to take up your post.”

Coral sees Reid lurking in the shadows with his arms crossed, keeping a keen eye on the Prince and Lynette. She smiles at him as Quell quietly walks past, exiting the garden through a different door into an empty hallway.

She feels the muscles of his back rippling underneath her dress, between her thighs while he walks up the ramp to the second floor and down the hall to the bathhouse. When they enter, it is vacant, everyone still attending the party. Coral slides from his back, “Won’t they realize we are gone?”

“Yes,” he smiles, pulling her close, his hands circling around her so he can loosen the strings of her dress, “but it is expected that the celebrated pair to sneak off for another round of mating.”

“Good lord,” she replies, a bit unnerved as he deftly strips her of all of her clothing, “do mated centaurs ever rest?”

He chuckles, quickly disrobing himself, “If I had my way, we would only leave our room for food and an occasional bath, my love.”

She shakes her head at him, carefully picking her way across the smooth stone floor to the dark pool of water. Soft torch light provides a little illumination but mostly casts dancing shadows across the writhing surface. The water is warm and refreshing on her hot skin; she dives in first, before surfacing. Quell joins her, swimming out to the middle. She floats to him, straddling his wet fur back while making short work of unbraiding her hair. The experience is highly erotic for her; naked, riding on top of her lover while his powerful, muscular body paddles around the deep water. He hands her a bar of soap and she lathers it up, tracing her slickened hands first over the flesh on his back, then over the fur beneath her. She washes his hair tenderly before he swims forward through the waterfall, drenching them both.

Laughing, she slides off of his back and over to the far ledge where she can get her footing, the water now hitting her just above her breasts. Quell takes the bar of soap from her, giving her the same courtesy of letting his hands wander over her naked flesh, though they linger on her breasts. He washes her hair, working out the mats until it is hanging loosely over her shoulders, the ends floating in the water around her like a dark puddle.

Tossing the bar of soap up onto the stone ledge behind her, he presses into Coral, his mouth covering hers. She melts into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, her heart racing when his hands wander down her back and grasp a hold of her ass. He kneads her flesh, his tongue exploring her mouth. He pulls back, his voice breathy with his want of her, “Let’s take this back to our room.”

Coral pulls from his grasp, but instead of climbing out of the pool, she turns her back to him, holding onto the ledge with her fingers. She takes a deep breath and steadies herself, “Why not just do it here?”

His hands wander over her back, to the front, where he holds onto her breasts; he kisses her neck, biting down lightly in the crook of it, “I don’t have the elixir here, Coral.”

She knows as much; she aches with yearning and wants to enjoy her mate, but she knows that it will be painful. Logically she should drag him back to the bedroom and throw herself on the mounting stand, but rationally, in order to know the full effectiveness of the elixir, she needs to know what sex is like without it-only then can she truly see its benefits for the women who choose centaur mates. She steels her nerves and glances over her shoulder into his deep, blue eyes; with a husky voice, she says, “I want you to take me Quell, right here, right this instant.”

His breathing is fast and his need is great; he goes against his better judgment and jumps upwards in the water, placing each of his forelegs on either side of her head on the ledge. He leans forward, pressing his hands onto the further wall, looking down upon her with dark, lusty eyes. Stepping carefully, he pushes forward.

Coral feels the tip of his cock prodding at her ass cheeks; grasping the ledge with one hand, she pushes her body backwards slightly, her head thumping into his fur covered chest. She reaches behind her back, small hand circling partway around his manhood. She lines him up, stroking the tip of his cock against her slit before steadying it at the opening. Quell pushes himself forward-instead of making any headway, the force of it moves Coral so she kicks her legs out and braces them against the stone wall under the water.

To get a better hand hold, she reaches up and grabs around Quell’s fur covered pastern with one hand, the other lining his cock up to her again. This time, he thrusts forward again, the tip of his cock stretching her cunt open. Coral grabs his other pastern, arching her back into him while he slowly thrusts forward a little, pulls back and eases more length into her. Coral drops her gaze down to the water so that he cannot see the pain in her face; she clenches her teeth, his cock stretch her cunt so wide that it feels like searing bolts of lightning radiating through her. When he bottoms out, she lets out a cry-but Quell mistakes it for a sound of pleasure. He increases his pace, thrusting faster into her quivering body. Tears roll down Coral’s face, but she doesn’t tell him to stop-she clenches her eyes tight shut, willing for him to finish quickly. Ripples cascade through Quell’s fur as he approaches his peak; he throws his head back and lets out a loud moan with his final harsh thrust, his voice echoing in the cavern.

Her hands shaking, Coral lets go of his pasterns, her legs sliding down the wall as she painfully eases off of his cock. She presses her crying face into the stone work while Quell backs himself off of the ledge and into the water. When he pulls her towards him, the loving expression on his face turns to worry when he sees her sobbing in pain. He cradles a trembling hand over her cheek, “Coral-are you all right? Why did you not stop me!”

She lets herself be wrapped up in his arms, sobbing into his chest. Without hesitation he slides a hand behind her back, the other under her knees and lifts her up to him, carrying her naked body from the pool and quickly out of the bathhouse, leaving a trail of water behind them before he slips into their room.

Gently he sets her down on the mound of pillows, kneeling beside her only to take her back up into his arms, “Coral,” he calls painfully, “I am sorry-I didn’t realize… please, speak to me!”

Coral regains control of her emotions, locking them down though her body still shudders with each breath she takes. Quell pulls her face from his chest and cradles it in his hands; she looks up into his pained eyes, his brows crinkled, tears falling down his face, “Coral,” he says in agony.

She closes her eyes for a moment, letting the sting of her salty tears burn before she looks upon her mate again; she reaches her hand out and runs it over his cheek, “Quell-I am sorry, I… I needed to know what it would be like without the elixir. I-I wanted to understand what the women go through for their mates.”

He pulls her close, his arms holding her tight, “Gods, Coral, why didn’t you stop me! I never wanted to hurt you-I don’t ever want to hurt you again!”

“I know,” she says softly, her words muffled by his firm chest, “now I understand why this elixir is so important, Quell. I had to know-please, do not be angry with me. I will be fine.”

He releases her once again so that he can look at her, “Coral, I could never be angry with you. Just promise me-never again. I will never be with you like that again, I-I can’t, it will end me.”Original content from NôvelDrama.Org.

She nods, wincing when she tries to sit up. He starts crying, seeing her in pain, “What can I do?”

Taking his hand, she brings it to her lips and gently kisses the back of it, “Could you go to the surgery and grab my medicine box?”

He nods, immediately rising to his feet and hastily leaving the room. Coral stands, grimacing while she walks to the wardrobe; she finds a stack of towels folded on a shelf and grabs one so that she can dry her body off. Every movement jars her hurting cunt and though she doesn’t want to, she gingerly pats it dry only to find blood on the towel. She regrets her decision thoroughly when she tries to sit on the padded chair at the vanity that was added to the room for her; listing slightly to one side so as not to put any more pressure on her injury, she manages to brush out her hair and braid it by the time Quell comes back with her medicine case.

Setting it on the table, he opens it up, trying to look in it for something to help her but having no idea where to start. Coral stands up and does her best not to limp or contort her face with the pain; she finds a small clean towel and searches through the case for a bottle of witch hazel. Taking both back to the pillows, she flops down and soaks the towel, tucking it up to her womanhood for relief. Distraught, Quell kneels beside her, leaning back onto the pillows so he can pull her close. Coral rests against him, finding comfort in his arms before falling fast asleep.