#spicy fated mates

[spiritheartssong]

Lunatics: A Steamy Werewolf Romance (Free Preview!)

This is the prologue to my extra steamy novella, Lunatics, available on all major platforms in ebook and paperback!

***

“Open your eyes.”

I was in a small cabin illuminated with what seemed to be a hundred candles. Their warmth washed over me as I turned in a tiny circle, not quite believing it was real.

“What do you think?”

I was speechless.

Although I had dreamed of this night many, many times before, I never expected such a miracle could happen to someone like me. I was an outcast, an orphan. And, after so many years of feeling unwanted and alone, I finally belonged to someone.

I turned my gaze to the speaker, a tall, tan, and muscular man with curly auburn hair that kissed his shoulders. It was still hard for me to believe his mother was black like me.

His smile grew slowly, like the kindling of a flame. His green eyes, with their gold-circled irises, seemed to be glowing, they were so luminescent and bright. I felt the swell of love in my heart and closed the gap between us.

“I love it,” I murmured as I wrapped my arms around his neck, stepping on my tippy toes to whisper in his ear. “And I love you.”

He wrapped his hands around my waist and pulled me into his body, where I felt his hardness throbbing. His hands lowered onto the curve of my hips, and he rubbed himself in slow circles against my form.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered into the wisps of my hair. “Searched for you for so long. And you’re finally mine.”

I felt a throbbing of my own as my sacred flower began to blossom. His grip tightened. It was as if he felt the shift.

“Do you want me to touch you?” He asked.

I nodded against his neck, where I left a little trail of kisses. He shuddered against my touch.

My mouth traveled from his shoulder back to the nook of his neck. I nibbled on his ear and murmured, “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

And it was true. In all my twenty-eight years of living, I had wanted many things. Most of them things that were not mine to have. Not in this world, anyway, where the darker hue of my skin meant I was deemed unworthy of the right to freely live.

But all of that was changing; my life was just beginning, thanks to him.

He raised one hand to the waistband of my skirt. “Let me give you what you want,” he said and dipped two fingers in.

Flesh against flesh, he first went for my wetness and traveled ever so slowly up to my clitoris, rubbing her in gentle little circles. I opened my legs wider and he increased the circle’s circumference. A surge of electricity traveled from his body to mine, and I had to lean against him for support.

“Tell me how that feels.”

“So good,” I was whimpering. “It feels so good.”

He smiled. “It feels good for me, too. You’re so soft…and wet.” He flicked his finger and lifted his hand out of my skirt.

“What? Nooooo.”

“Yes.” His voice was firm, almost reprimanding.

I looked into his emerald eyes and saw the glint that said, go ahead, try and challenge me.

I didn’t dare.

Instead, I dove deeper into his gaze and relished the sight of the face I loved.

God, he was gorgeous. The golden rims in his eyes and his auburn hair shimmered in the candlelight. He looked holy, like an angel walking the earth.

He brought my chin up and pressed his lips against mine, entering my mouth with his tongue. He tasted like sin, like the Underworld come up to meet me.

Oh, how I wanted to descend.

I had grown up being taught about heaven and hell, but I decided from a young age not to believe any of it. I didn’t believe in one god; I believed in many.

I didn’t believe in sins either, but I’d heard enough about them to know that anything that felt good and right was one of them.

If that were true, then this night would be full of sin and both our souls would be damned.

Good thing I didn’t believe in damnation either.

I believed in love, and I had never been more certain of a love than the one I shared with the man in my arms. This big, burly man with the forest in his eyes. My match. My mate.

I let his tongue explore my mouth and his lips collide with mine. He was hungry. He could have his feast on me.

I reached down and stroked his erection. It was even harder than it’d been before.

He stopped kissing me and looked down at my hand, his forehead resting against mine. I froze.

“Don’t stop.” His voice was rough—strained. “Touch me.”

I pulled down his trousers and held him tightly in my grasp.

“How is it you want to be touched?”

He smiled devilishly. “Let me show you.” He stepped out of the pool of his pants and raised his tunic over his head. I ran my hands across his chest, stopping at the little scar above his heart.

“It’s all healed.” I was surprised.

“I told you I heal differently.”

“Yes, but the silver—I thought—”

“I’m strong. Stronger now because of you. You’ve healed me.”

“I also almost killed you.”

He took one of my hands in his. “Stop. It wasn’t your fault. And even if it was, I wouldn’t fault you. I would do it again—I would do anything to free you.”

I rested my head on his chest and gave the scar a kiss. “Thank you.”

Pressing my body into his, I urged him backwards, guiding us both to the bed. It was a one room cottage we were in, and it was our home.

I had never owned anything before. And now, this space was mine. This bed was mine. This man was all mine. Nothing would ever take him away.

When we reached the edge of the mattress, I poked his shoulder and he leapt backwards, flinging himself onto the bed.

“I’m going to undress for you.” I was wearing a very modest cotton skirt and tunic, both two sizes too large. They were the only white things I had in my meager possessions, and they once belonged to my mother, whose body was fuller from the three children she’d birthed.

But for a makeshift wedding with only the bride and groom in attendance, the ensemble was perfect. I wouldn’t have worn anything else.

I first took off the tunic, raising it inch by inch, exposing first my belly, then my breasts. My nipples, already a deep shade of brown, darkened as they hardened in the cooler air.

My husband lowered his hand to his crotch and began tugging his penis upward in slow and tight strokes. He locked his eyes on me as he cupped its head and rubbed circles on it with his palm.

God, he was so beautiful.

I wanted to taste him. To put my mouth around him and feel him throb against my tongue.

But first, I needed to get naked.

I unfastened the rope used for a belt and allowed my skirt to fall to my ankles.

“Let me see you,” he said.

I opened my arms.

“No—” He beckoned me closer with his finger. His voice was tense, like it pained him to speak. “Come.”

When I reached the bed, he brought one of my legs onto the mattress beside him and adjusted himself so he lay in between me. He kissed the kinky hair around my crotch and rubbed his face around my sacred space.

“I love you.” He peeled open my flower and ran his tongue up and down its expanse. I caved in towards him and he held me up with one hand, squeezing my rear hard enough to make me moan. Hard enough to leave a mark.

But my darker skin never bruised, and I was suddenly thankful for it. I laughed to myself.

He paused. “What is it?”

“I was just thinking about how grateful I am to have my skin now, of all times. I think I always hated it before.”

He kissed my inner thigh, where the skin was even darker. “I understand why you would.”

Of course he did.

He was the one who found me, indentured in the same way my mother had been enslaved. And he was the one who set me free.

It was my father’s family that I worked for, though they were no kin to me.

They treated me better than the other “workers,” as they’d come to call people like us after the war. I was born a year after it ended, in 1866. Despite the Emancipation Proclamation, my father refused to set my mother free. And even after she died—after he died—his family kept the chains of bondage wrapped tightly around me.

The only place I was free to roam was the woods on the plantation grounds, a privilege extended only to my two older brothers, who managed the land they should have inherited. Until they were shipped off to a distant uncle’s property where they couldn’t cause trouble. Even though they would have never. Even though they should have.

My blood began to boil as I thought about it. There were too many shoulds from that time, too many rights that remained wronged.

I focused my attention back on my husband.

He traced his finger on my brow. “Were you thinking about them?”

He always knew where my mind was traveling. “I was. But I don’t want to think about them or that place anymore—ever.”

He watched me carefully. Though he seemed to be privy to my thoughts, there were times I had no idea what he was thinking, what it was he was seeing in me that I had yet to see.

He spoke softly, “It’s okay, you know…if you do think of your time there.”

I shook my head. “It’ll just leave me angry.”

“Even the thought of your brothers?”

“That would just make me sad.”

“Come.” He pulled me down onto his lap and squeezed his arms around me. I let my head fall to his chest and let out a great and weary sigh.

I didn’t want to let him know I was sad, but he could probably feel it anyways. He felt everything about me like my energy was his own. Perhaps it was.

The warmth of his hand journeyed up my back, igniting my spine. I sat up straighter against him. There was something about his touch that was so soothing, I believed there was magic in his hands.

There had to have been in order for him to change shapes like he did.

As if sensing what I was thinking, he whispered, “There’s magic in you, too.”

“That’s what you’ve been saying.” I tried not to whine. “I have yet to see any magic in myself.”

“That’s the thing,” he smiled. “Magic isn’t something you see. It’s just what you are.”

I smiled but couldn’t force my heart to take his words as truth. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“Someday you’ll see it—and then you’ll believe it.”

“What makes you so sure I will?”

“I’m your husband. I know you…inside and out.” His hand found its way to my sacred space and rested lightly upon it.

I closed my eyes as I remembered the first time we made love. We were on our journey North from the plantation in Georgia. We had just crossed the Mason Dixon line and the tension that was pent up between us burst like the gods intended it to. We’d made love in a wild river, and I was baptized and reborn. I changed my name that evening from the one my captors gave me to one I chose myself.

“Luna,” I told him. “I want to be called Luna.”

“Luna…” Shadow’s voice snapped me back to the present moment. His brows were drawn together. “What are you thinking about?”

I smirked, “I’m surprised you don’t know.”

I ran my hand through the golden threads in his hair and kissed the tip of his nose, shaped so differently than my own. “I was thinking about our first time making love…in the river.”

“Owooo!” he howled, tossing his head back. When his eyes found mine once more, a new kind of glint sparkled in them.

This time, I knew very well what he was thinking.

He squeezed a handful of my rear and nuzzled my neck. “The first time I tasted you…”

The hand on my sacred space began to move slightly, and ever so gently his fingers parted the petals of my flower.

My instinct was to close my eyes, but I wanted to look Shadow in his eyes. I wanted him to see the effect he had on me. I needed him to know how good he made me feel.

“You’re all wet, Luna…” His voice was soft as two of his fingers painted circles around my pearl.

I loved hearing him call me Luna.

I shifted my body and turned to straddle him. He resumed his strokes after only a brief pause. His other hand journeyed up my back and curved its way onto my breast, cupping it and pinching my nipple lightly.

I inhaled sharply. Nothing got me wetter than the pinching of my nipple.

Well, almost nothing.

Shadow removed his glorious fingers from my nipple and clit and anchored them on my hips. He began to move me up and down against his erection, and I savored the sensation of his bulging veins and silky shaft against my wetness. My eyes closed and my head dropped backwards.

I felt the pressure building towards a climax. My breathing started to become heavier, and I felt tingly all over.

“Look at me,” Shadow cooed. “I want to see you when you come.”

I crashed my hips tightly into him and locked my eyes on his.

He brought his hand back to my nipple and pinched me—hard.

My eyes widened and I let out a cry as the dam burst and I cascaded into a climax.

Shadow’s other hand left my hips and focused once more on my clit, moving it in wild, little circles. “You’ve got more energy inside you.” His voice came out in pieces. “Let it out. Give it to me.”

My eyes rolled back in my head as I felt a second climax approaching.

“Wait—” I could barely get the words out of my mouth. “Come inside me.”

“Not yet.” He smiled. He always made me come first. Always.

He lowered his face against my chest and sucked my nipple into his mouth, running his tongue against this mini mountain and nibbling gently at its peak.

I couldn’t help but moan, couldn’t keep quiet even if I wanted to.

But I didn’t want to. I wanted Shadow to hear without question how amazing he made me feel. He deserved to know.

“Oh! Oh!” The pitch of my voice was several octaves higher than normal.

Without warning, he slid his fingers into my channel, swirling them along the sides of its wall.

I let out a cry as he moved in and out of me, licking one nipple and then the next.

This was too much. It was all too much.

I stood on my knees as my back arched, and Shadow penetrated me even faster.

I let out a high-pitched squeal. I didn’t think I could take anymore, but I found myself crying, “More!”

“You want more?”

I could only whimper, “Yessssss.”

He moved both hands to my hips and lowered me down onto his erection, which was warm and throbbing and so, so nice.

I came instantly.

But Shadow had just begun.

Without removing himself from inside me, he laid me down on the bed, his body on top of mine.

I clasped my fingers around his neck and marveled at the soft curl of his hair, so different than my own. He brought his lips to my mouth and kissed me like it would be the last time. It was urgent, it was needy, all tongue and spit combined.

He bit my lower lip and began thrusting. I opened my legs wider to accommodate his girth. He was the first man to ever be inside me, and my channel was still adjusting to having visitors.

Even still, I felt Shadow fit me perfectly, and he vehemently agreed.

He grunted with each thrust, holding nothing back.

I tightened myself around him and felt his breathing stagger. He was close to climaxing.

“Think of me,” I whispered, clutching his face. “Think of how much I love you.”

He growled and bucked inside of me, and my legs tightened around him, fully receiving his glorious finish.

Shadow lied limp on top of me, panting.

Suddenly, he rose onto his knees, half inside me, half out, seeming to be listening to something that was undetectable to me.

Over the course of our migration North, I had learned to trust Shadow’s acute sense of hearing. He could detect movement several miles away.

“What’s—”

He put a finger to my lips to stop me from speaking further and pulled out of me completely, leaping to where my garments laid.

“Get dressed,” he tossed me my clothes, voice low, and quickly dressed himself.

My heart began to quicken, and my hands shook as I slid my skirt over my hips.

I was dizzy from our lovemaking and sat stock-still on the edge of the bed. I looked around helplessly.

There were too many candles to extinguish stealthily, and they gave enough light to let anyone know from a distance that we were very much inside.

Shadow changed shape, his body seeming to melt and shudder into that of a large, brown wolf with luminescent golden eyes. He barred his teeth and growled at the window that faced the bed, backing up to stand in front of me.

I closed my eyes and counted to three; that always helped to calm me.

One…maybe it’s just a wild animal.

Two…it must be. No one knows we’re here.

Three…

I opened my eyes and let out a delicate sigh. Of course we would be alright. We were with each other.

One…

Two…

I heard the glass break before I saw it shatter.

First, a large rock flew into the room.

What followed it, I didn’t know; I never knew. Because just as I let out a blood-curdling scream, I woke up panting in my cheetah print pajamas, my duvet on the floor and my sheets contorted around me.

I gripped my chest, my arms, my legs, and let out a sigh of relief.

It was just a dream.

And even though it felt as real as my waking world, it was always just a dream.

***

Links!

If you liked what you read, please support by reblogging this post, and or buying the book! I so appreciate it!

Ebook (Amazon) (direct from author) (elsewhere)

Paperback (Amazon) (Direct from the author)

Hardcover coming soon!

[isabeauwolf]

Gonna feed my Kresley Cole addiction 🤩🥰😍🔥🤭

Spicy fated mates, supernatural romances, so many couples and events intertwining with each other, yes! Worth it! 💯

Binge read, or as a stand alone. I'm so close to having them all, except for a few and her new release next month. Or her Mafia series 🔥😍 I need them!

[icedcoffeeandsleepdeprivation]

Pretty sure she's my spirit animal. 💙

[stormyskies-writes]

“Seeing me fight really aroused you, didn’t it?” she said finally, her lips tugging up slightly. She watched him clench his jaw, fighting what he felt. “Everything you do arouses me.”

— Moonsong Saga

READ NOW

[shereadsspice]

Officially an Ali Hazelwood fan

[wrenelton]

My new book! It came out a couple of days ago and someone left me a five star review! (My first review!!) If you like fated mates and second chance romance, then check it out!

[raeraethestoryteller]

No one talks about what to do when your back in your werewolves fated mates era but are simultaneously out of your Wattpad era. AO3 isn’t cutting it and I feel like I’ve exhausted all my usual tumblr writer accounts. 😭

[quarterlifekitty]

hii

can I ask for more scent kink soap? ugh just something about that nasty nasty man GETS me.

So first of all this is inspired by this post that I’m fucking obsessed with so. Omegaverse be upon ye

Freak Soap who finds a pair of used panties on the floor of the communal laundry room in his flat building. So, like the animal he is, he lifts it to his face to sniff.

And like. He’s never really believed in being able to smell someone and just know that they’re a perfect match. Like, that’s nonsense. But right now? If he had a tail it’d be thumping. Like, he whines when he pushes the gusset of your panties right up to his nose, that’s how amazing it smells to him.

He ends up waiting in the laundry room all night to see if the owner will show. No luck. Sulks back to his flat, keeps the panties bunched up in his face while he fists his cock more than a few times.

Every so often he’ll catch little whiffs of it. It’s actually a very subtle scent— it’s probably why he’s never noticed, not till it was concentrated in that slick-soaked fabric. Sort of like how there are some things you’d never find unless you already knew what they looked like. People tell all kinds of stories about scents. That their mates smelled of bergamot and lemongrass, teakwood and honeycomb candy, peppermint and vanilla— all sorts of bath and bodyworks style shite. God knows he’s heard the word petrichor enough for one lifetime.

Gaz told Soap that he smelled like salt and single malt whiskey. Also dirt, but they all smelled like dirt at the time.

This scent was fascinatingly, infuriatingly simple and yet it smelled like the embodiment of home, of comfort—

You smelled like wheat. Warm wheat. It wasn’t spicy, herbaceous, sweet, earthy. Just… wheat.

At the front door of the building. By the mail boxes. In the laundry room. Sometimes, in a cruel twist of fate— right by his own front door. Always weak— just traces. Never accompanied by the wearer. His unpredictable schedule of deployments and leave just make it harder to try to track.

Until one day he comes back. Long bloody mission, dragged through mud, run ragged. Just barely able to scrape through to the finish line before his rut started, thank god. And yet, he’s dreading it. That pair of panties has basically all but lost any traces of you, he’s had it and held it in desperation for so long.

When the lift door opens, he can feel his spine straighten in alert. Wheat. Abundant. Fertile. You’re so close, and so close to a heat.

He drops his duffel by his door as he loses the battle to think of anything but stuffing his knot in a soft, hot cunt. His cock is already painfully hard as the rut claws and pricks at his synapses, coiled and at the ready. But he doesn’t have to travel far.

The door across the hall from his.

He gets low to the ground, like he’s trying to squeeze himself under the door— trying to get closer and closer to the scent.

Knocking, introducing himself, and acting like a human being is far from the forefront of his mind. His first instinct is to jiggle the handle of the door, growling when he finds it locked.

His second instinct is to dig the picking tools from his duffle.

[dreacwrites]

Read it now on Kindle Unlimited, ebook or paperback!

As a silent rebellion continues, Rowan Hartwell's world falls apart. The faerie queen must not only guard her realm but also her heart. An old flame refuses to quell, and Southland realm spirals into uncertainty. Finding alliances is a must, spurring life as she knows it into change. In order to strengthen her kingdom against a looming uprising, she must choose between her heart's stubborn wishes and a political marriage.

Assigned to gather information on the brewing rebellion, Gabriel Osei, the beta of Eastland’s pack, faces important decisions. Gabriel's heart and duty are at odds while he contends with the traitor and crucial member of the silent rebellion in Eastland's dungeon. With his heart in shambles, his secrets forced him and Rowan to part, and his love for her meant watching her from afar now.

With war looming and their love fading, can they defy the odds and find their way back to each other?

[theromanceriot]

Straighten Your Crown Highlight - Wolven Queen by Saam King All proceeds to benefit the Nat'l Womens shelter #anthology #romancebooks #wolfshifter #shortstory #shifterromance #indieauthors #theromanceriot #reading #books #charityanthology

Straighten Your Crown us a charity anthology brought to you by The Romance Riot. Fifteen independent, self published authors came together with stories of strong women and their even stronger friendships. All proceeds go to benefit the National Women’s Shelter. Grab an ebook or paperback to read the following story and more! Anthology will be available until 6/17/23 so grab a copy to read great…

[isabeauwolf]

Should I drop more sneak peaks of my Overhaul x Mary x Dabi fanfic on here or wait til each chapter is done?

Ask me any questions ☺️💕

[icedcoffeeandsleepdeprivation]

[stormyskies-writes]

"I don't need a weapon when I was born one."

— Moonsong Saga

COMING APRIL 29

[rue-isabelle]

Aphrodite of Formula 1, Part 3

The paddock was no longer just a workplace—it was a battlefield of emotions. Yn’s calm demeanor and kindhearted nature had captured the hearts of every man on the grid, single or taken. She had no idea about the storm of feelings she left in her wake, but the tension between the drivers was palpable.

And with the bombshell news that Lewis would be leaving Mercedes for Ferrari, the frenzy only escalated.

Lewis

Lewis waited for Yn outside the hospitality area, leaning casually against the wall. When she appeared, juggling her tablet and several papers, he stepped forward, his warm smile catching her attention.

“Yn,” he said smoothly, “do you have a minute?”

“For you? Always,” she replied with a smile.

He guided her to a quieter corner, his hand resting gently on the small of her back. “Listen, I’ve got something important to talk about. You’ve heard the news, right?”

She nodded. “You’re going to Ferrari. Congratulations, Lewis. They’re lucky to have you.”

“They’d be even luckier if you came with me,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

Yn blinked, stunned. “Me? At Ferrari?”

He smiled, placing both hands gently on her waist, his thumbs brushing lightly against her sides. “You’re the best at what you do. And I’d feel a whole lot better knowing I had you on my team.”

“Lewis, I—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Think about it.” His hands squeezed her waist tighter before letting go.

Before she could reply, he stepped back, his gaze intense. “No pressure,” he added, though his expression suggested otherwise.

Yn’s heart raced as she watched him walk away, his confidence leaving her breathless.

Lando

Lando couldn’t get through a single day without seeing Yn. Her presence had become a necessity, a fix he craved. But as her job kept her moving constantly, he needed to ensure they “coincidentally” crossed paths.

That’s where the AirTags came in.

Yn had no idea that nearly every item she owned—a handbag, a water bottle, even her laptop case—had a discreet tracker hidden inside, courtesy of Lando.

“Yn!” Lando exclaimed, rounding a corner with perfect timing as she exited a meeting. “I didn’t expect to see you here!”

She laughed. “Hi, Lando. What a surprise.”

“It’s fate,” he said, grinning.

He casually walked with her, keeping the conversation light, but his heart raced as he basked in her attention.

At night, Lando’s obsession took on a different form. In his bedroom, one wall was entirely dedicated to her. Photos of Yn smiling, laughing, working—captured both candidly and from afar—covered every inch.

One evening, his trainer stopped by unexpectedly.

“Lando,” he began, trailing off when he noticed the wall. “Mate, what the hell is this?”

Lando turned, unfazed. “Art,” he replied simply, his eyes fixed on one particular photo of Yn.

Franco

Franco had a different tactic: he showered Yn with affection and introduced her to the richness of his culture. He found her during lunch and waved her over to his table, where he’d set up a spread of traditional Argentine dishes.

“What’s all this?” Yn asked, her eyes lighting up.

“This,” Franco said with a charming smile, “is a little piece of Argentina. Sit, sit.”

She sat, and Franco immediately began serving her, explaining each dish with pride. “This is empanada criolla, and this—ah, careful, it’s spicy—is chimichurri. You have to try it with this.”

He picked up a small piece of empanada and held it to her lips. “Here, taste.”

Yn hesitated but opened her mouth, allowing him to feed her.

“How is it?” he asked, his eyes locked on hers.

“Delicious,” she admitted, smiling.

Franco leaned closer, his lips kissing the corner of her lips. “You had some sauce here,” he murmured before kissing her again on the cheek, lingering there for a moment.

Yn’s cheeks turned pink. “Franco…”

“I’ll make you fall in love with Argentina,” he promised, his voice low. “And maybe… me too.”

Fernando

Fernando prided himself on being Yn’s rock. While the other drivers acted like lovesick teenagers, he was her guiding figure, the one she turned to for advice.

One evening, Yn found him in his motorhome, reviewing strategy notes.

“Fernando, do you have a minute?” she asked, poking her head in.

“For you? Always,” he replied, motioning for her to sit.

She explained her dilemma about a work decision, her voice tinged with uncertainty. Fernando listened intently, his hand resting on her knee to ground her.

“Yn,” he said softly, “you’re overthinking. Trust your instincts. They’ve never failed you.”

She nodded, her tension easing under his steady gaze.

As she stood to leave, Fernando reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re too good for this chaos,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Those boys don’t deserve you.”

Yn laughed lightly. “You’re too protective.”

“Someone has to be,” he replied, his hand lingering on her shoulder as he guided her out.

---

The paddock had become a minefield of stolen glances, jealous stares, and escalating tensions. Each driver had his own way of vying for Yn’s attention, but none could truly claim her heart—not yet, anyway.

Yn, blissfully unaware of the storm she had created, continued her work with a smile, unknowingly leaving a trail of broken hearts and unspoken confessions in her wake.

The question wasn’t if she’d notice—it was when. And when she did, the paddock would never be the same.

Part 1. Part 2

[dark-moonlust]

Fated Mates

Commission for Jana Pachner on Patreon!

Pairing: werewolf oc (Eli) x fem curvy reader

Summary: your werewolf roommate is secretly in love with you. He reaches his breaking point when he smells your arousal because of the books you read.

Warnings: minors don’t interact, 18+, mutual pining, explicit smut, primal kink, possessive werewolf, oral(fem), bulk werewolf, knotting.

It was a challenge to live under the same roof and see you sitting in that recliner, knees curled up, nose buried in one of those monster smut books. Your breathing became irregular as you reached the spicy parts and subtle color crept up your neck, extending to your cheeks. You also squeezed your thighs together, having no idea that your werewolf roommate’s senses were sharper than any human's.

Mate, the wolf growled in him. Ours.

It was primitive and irrefutable as if the universe had imprinted you on his soul.

And this time, your scent was his undoing.

It all spoke to him, tempted him, and anchored him to you.

But he could not tell you. Not yet. You were a human. Delicate.

And if he claimed you were his mate—that you belonged to him, that his entire soul was aching for you—you’d flee. He’d run, too, if he were in your shoes. He was a werewolf, buff, tall, and scary to most. Primal, animalistic, too.

But tonight, you were testing his patience.

Sitting there looking like a snack, a tattered paperback in your hands with a cover that he couldn't look at without his mind wandering into a dangerous zone. A bare-chested werewolf and a heroine with curves that matched her own.

And your scent— Goddamn it, that scent.

Eli took a sharp inhalation, his claws sinking into the couch's armrest.

He knew he needed to leave. To run. To breathe.

Then you sighed. Soft. Breathless. Sweet.

That was his undoing.

You glanced at him amid your dirty reading.

Your roommate. Eli. Your infuriatingly gorgeous, towering werewolf (who was always shirtless by the way).

Eli had chosen to stay stubbornly with you while you read your smut. Your book was good—one of those stories in which the brooding, possessive werewolf would rather burn the world than see his human mate with someone else. It was good but no amount of fictional tension amd sex could match the real thing sitting across the room.

Eli had a steely smirk and a presence that made the air hum. He'd always been kind, lively, and easy to talk to, but there was something wild beneath the surface that you couldn't resist. It was the way his golden eyes lingered on you, or how he seemed to shift closer to you every chance he got, or how he tensed every time you were aroused.

Like right now.

You took a quick glimpse over the top of your book. And sure enough, there he was, sitting stiffly on the couch, his knuckles white from gripping the armrest. His jaw was locked, and his chest moved in tiny gasps and… and was that a bulge in his pants? You swallowed.

"Eli?" you asked quietly, lowering the book. He did not glance at you. Did not move.

But his harsh, low voice sent chills down your spine.

"Yeah?"

"You okay?"

A pause. Then a quick, dry laugh with no humor. "Fine. Why?"

You grimaced and closed the book completely. "You seem tense.”

His head snapped toward you, and his eyes locked on yours. The intensity in his gaze caused your breath to hitch. Heat pooled down in your stomach, your body betraying you.

“Fuck. I cannot handle it anymore,” he muttered. His discipline, which had already worn thin, was unraveling by the second.

"Eli?"

"Why do you read that stuff?" His voice came out rough.

You blinked. "What stuff?"

He pointed to the book. "That. Those books."

Your cheeks flushed. "I-I'm not sure. They are... entertaining."

"Entertaining," he said, standing up, all his bulky gorgeous body and you leaned back slightly, your wide eyes fixed on his.

"It's just fiction," you muttered. ”Sexy as hell, too.”

And then you saw it.

His breaking point.

"Is it? Or do you read them because you wish I was there to make you feel something?"

Your lips parted, but no words came out. You could feel the tension between you, tightening like a wire about to break.

Could you risk it? Tell him the truth? Of how much you craved him?

"Tell me," he repeated, his voice low and rough. "Do they make you think of me?"

You could not breathe. Your body was reacting to him as it always did, heat gathering between your legs as his gaze drove into you. He was too close, his presence surrounding you, the only thing that mattered. You couldn't lie. Not when every nerve in your body craved him.

"Yes."

His pupils dilated. "Yes?"

“Yes… the books. They make me think of you.”

His lips curled into a predatory grin and he pushed closer, too quickly, and placed his hands on your shoulders before you could blink. You gasped as his touch shot a shock through your veins, the heat between you overwhelming.

“Reading thinking about me, hm? Every damn page."

You couldn't react because your heart was pounding so hard in your ears, that you felt you were going to drown.

But then his lips were on yours, wet, warm and demanding, as if he couldn't hold back anymore. Your hands trembled as they moved up his naked chest, stroking the muscles. You drew back for a moment, not believing this was real. But once you met his eyes; wide with need, and something deeper you knew.

He wanted you.

Eli kissed you again and this time, he fucking devoured you. You moaned, and damn, it almost drove him crazy. The monster in him snarled, enraged and hungry, urging him to take, claim, and brand you. You were his mate, his other half.

He deepened the kiss, moving his hands down your arms and felt your curves beneath his touch. You also tasted like temptation—sweet and innocent— your lips parting beneath his, your tongue hesitant at first, but then melting into him. Your scent; lavender and that enticing natural scent of your skin enveloped him, and he couldn't get enough of it.

His hands moved lower, pressing into the curve of your hips, pulling you close to him. You gasped into his mouth, and he groaned at the sensation of your soft, full body pressed against the hard lines of his.

"You don't know what you're doing to me," he said, his voice raw.

You moaned, your hands slipping to the waistline of his pants, fingertips teasing the fabric.

Challenging him, playing with fire.

Why not? You were already lost.

"Maybe I do," you said softly, lips brushing against his jaw.

A feral growl left him as he carried you in his strong arms and plopped you down on the bed. You couldn't help but look up at him—at your sexy werewolf. He looked back—possessive, ravenous as if he could swallow you in an instant. He would.

"Do you really want this, sweetheart?"  he asked.

"Yes. I want this… want you."

Everything happened in a flash. His hands moved, and you arched into his touch as he ripped your clothes. He pulled off his pants and boxers, removing all your clothes until were both naked, his clawed fingers caressing your plump tits, over one tight nipple, then the curvature of your waist, and down to the soft swell of your thighs.

“Fuuuck, look at you. Perfect," he drawled. "Every inch of you."

“I second that.”

His muscles flexed as he hovered above you, a great beast, the gorgeous heat of his body radiating on yours.

The contrast between you was uncanny. You were all soft, mushy thighs and belly, and he was everything you had envisioned in your fantasies and more. So much more.

And he was magnificent. All raw power and bulk, every inch of him designed for strength. His arms, chest, abs—and Gods, his dick. It was even better than the slutty monster books you read. Generously thick and long, with a sharp tip leaking pre-cum and a fat knot at the base.

Your thoughts faded when his lips followed a line down your neck, and you arched into him, allowing him to feel the fullness of your tits pressing against his firm hairy chest. You wanted him on your nipples. He took the bait and dragged his tongue around one nipple, his hand fondling the other mound.

Bliss coursed through you. He slurped up your breasts and meanwhile, your hands moved down his torso, feeling the way his muscles contracted under your touch, the roughness of his skin, and the heat that radiated off him. When you gripped his cock, his snarl made your entire body shiver.

“Ahhh, sweetheart. You're driving me crazy," he said, his voice thick with need.

“Good. I want to drive you nuts.”

He chuckled. “My turn first, love.”

A swift move and he was between your legs, his hands seizing your hips, his tongue pushing at your folds and eating your cunt. You jerked and whined, feeling his tongue as it made torturous circles over your clit, sending thrills up your spine and driving you higher and higher until you snapped.

Eyes shutting, belly trembling as cries of pleasure left you. Unbidden.

"You don't even know what you've done to me, do you?" His tongue brushed against your oversensitive clit, his fangs glinting.

"What have I done?" you gasped, voice quivering.

"You have been ruining me for months. Every time you curled up on the couch with those filthy books."

His cock pressed against your sloppy slit, making it even sloppier by spreading his pre-cum over your folds.

“Please…” you whimpered but he held you tightly, anchoring you beneath him.

"You've been tormenting me without even knowing it."

You swallowed hard, heat rising in your cheeks. "You could've said something… I wanted you for so long but I was scared," you said quietly. "I didn't know if you wanted me."

"You think I didn’t want you?" His voice was low and sinister. “I need you, love. Every inch of you. This body. This softness. This skin. This heat. All mine.”

“Yours.”

He growled, slapping his girthy cock over your entrance. "Say that again."

“Yours. I’m all yours, Eli.”

A groan echoed deep in his chest before he pushed inside. Stretching you, slowly feeding your pussy all inches of his dick. He invaded your depths as if his dick had always belonged there, the tip kissing your womb. So deep! So full! So damn good!

“You're taking me so well, sweetheart," he said, his hands caressing your tits. "Every inch."

The werewolf in him roared, set free to brand you, to claim you in every way. He held your hips, letting his claws press just enough to leave faint marks as a reminder that you belonged to him and fucked you, your bodies clashing and colliding. Your pretty cunt swallowed him up, messy and gorgeous while your body quivered beneath him, your curves beautiful and lush.

"You're going to feel me everywhere," he growled, reaching down to kiss your lips fiercely. “This is going to be nothing like those books you read. This is the real deal, love. From now on, your heart and cunt are mine. Mine to fuck, love and protect. You hear me?’

You only nodded – frantically— before you climaxed, again, your blunt nails sinking into his shoulders. But he wasn't finished. His knot was swelling, you’d read so many books about knotting. But God, this was the real deal indeed and it was freaking marvelous!

Your body tightened around him as he pushed deep and his knot enlarged, fully, locking you together. So stretched. Cum flooded you. So much it filled you to the brim. You trembled beneath him as he leaned down and swirled his tongue against your ear.

“Knotted like a good girl.” He hugged you harder, his snout brushing against your temple. “Keep my cock warm, love, okay?”

You smiled. “Hmm, I’m gonna keep it nice and warm, Eli. Where it belongs.”

"You are damned wonderful, mate. This was exactly what I'd been craving. You’re mine.”

"Always yours," you said, your voice full of need and trust.

THE END!

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[ldysmfrst]

Welcome to American Mate's Master List! The Taglist is CLOSED for this story.

This is an OT7 x Plus Sized/Chubby Reader story. The story will have Mature Scenes. The chapters with these adult themes will have (M) in the chapter name, so please 18+ readers only. Within the chapters, at the start and end of the Mature scene will be the following banner, if you want to skip them.

The Hybrid K-pop group BTS is on tour in America; of course, things don't start out the way they should, but after an encounter with Y/n, things change but will everyone follow Fate?

It's Time to Meet the Bangtan Pack

Chapter 1 - Two Weeks Early

Let's introduce you to the world of Hybrids and Playmates. It really is quite simple until a VIP Potential Client's manager walks into your office two weeks early, and it's only a skeleton crew right now.

Chapter 2 - The Playmate Meeting

Bangtan Pack arrives at Playmate Services Inc., USA Idol Division. It's time for the pack to meet the unsigned Playmates, but things don't go as well as planned.

Chapter 3 - Following Instincts

Dealing with the aftermath of the accident, Bangtan Pack reacts upon instincts, some more than others. Y/n learns a few new things.

Chapter 4 - First Case of Alpha Space

Y/n may call herself a Hybrid supporter but never has she dealt with something like this. Y/n gets to see firsthand some of what an Alpha is like when they get a little lost in their instincts.

Chapter 5 - Heated Discussions (M)

Y/n didn't want to cause trouble, but that seemed to be all she did. However, Bangtan Pack thinks sometimes the trouble is worth it.

Chapter 6 - A Proposition for You

Things get intense for Bangtan Pack and Y/n, but not in a good way. Meeting the doctor tonight has bigger implications than Y/n thought was possible.

Chapter 7 - Is This a Joke

After proposing to Y/n the option to become their playmate, the Bangtan Pack struggles to convince her to accept their Prime Alpha's offer. Will Y/n be persuaded or will she run from Fate unknowingly?

Chapter 8 - Time to Tell the Family Pack (M)

While the Bangtang Pack is excited to have Y/n join as a "Play"mate, that may not be the case for her family pack.

Chapter 9 - Shadows of the Past (M)

It becomes clear that pack dynamics can vary from pack to pack. This sometimes leads to interesting reactions. It's where the past can be seen influencing the present that will shadow all.

Chapter 10 - A Date in the Right Direction

After the visit from Dr. Blackwell, some of the Bangtan pack start behaving differently. Is it a good thing or a bad thing? Maybe the eldest Alpha has some insight. (This chapter is Seokjin-centric in honor of his coming home from the military)

Chapter 11 - Just a Staff Member

Y/n stands up for someone else, and everything starts falling apart. Last night was a dream but the reality of the situation finally hits.

Chapter 12 - Everyone Deserves a Second Chance

It's time to make a choice that can make for an adventure or change y/n's life.

Chapter 13 - Shall we?

It's time for the date with Namjoon. Getting ready becomes more fun than you think it could be with an unexpected surprise and new friends, but what happens as the night goes on?

Chapter 14 - Does it Always End in Ruin?

Scenting in a car with the Prime Alpha goes better than expected, but once they return to the pack house, things take a turn for Y/n.

WARNINGS FOR CHAPTER 15! This is a heavy chapter. Please read before reading the full chapter. Thank you 💜💜💜

Chapter 15 - The Pack Meeting and Troubled Pasts

Y/n shares her history with Bangtan Pack and finds she isn't the only one with a dark family life.

As a paid member of my Patreon, you can read extra spicy smutty scenes and additional content and have early release benefits for each chapter!

TO BE CONTINUED...

Reader Asks

Has the Bangtan Pack been with a woman before?

How would The Bangtan Pack react to finding Y/n dancing?

Additional Content

Meet Alpha Giant Flemish Rabbit Jungkook's Family

Patreon Artwork Poll Results (1)

American Mate (5) - Extended Scenting Scene (M)

American Mate (8) - Extended/ Additional Scene (M)

Take a look at Chapter 12, Hobi's Fire Red Suit.