Burned By Fate

| LUCY | I have always loved s*x. Maybe a little too much. But can someone love s*x too much? Or is it just a natural thing that we're all born to be invested in. I adore the thrill it gives me. I find it deeply empowering, expressing myself through my body with how I want to feel. Especially if the man is incredibly attractive and I fancy the s**t out of him. That makes it a thousand times better. Werewolves are known to be deadly attractive. That's what makes this so hard for me. I've probably slept with more than half of the district, those who are straight, lesbian or bi or whatever they want to identify as. I'm surprised I've managed to bed so many wolves considering a lot of them want to wait for their mates but I've never seen a problem in it. Most probably because I can't imagine myself with my mate. I've seen my sister and my brother both fall hard and fast for their mates, they blab on about the bond and their connection. But to me it sounds like absolute bullshit. How can something be that strong? They're probably kidding themselves. Still in the trap of the honey-moon phase. I will never get it because I will never act like it. Deep in my heart I know that I'm definitely not capable of love. I've seen it detonate my parents relationship, I've seen it destroy families. How anyone can tell me that love is a good thing is beyond me. It is a recipe for disaster. When feelings are involved people get hurt. Meaningless s*x can never hurt because it is severely meaningless. But hey, if other people are happy then good for them. All I can say is that I'll never be me. I'm more than satisfied to keep doing what I'm doing. Parties. Alcohol. s*x. How could things get complicated? I'll be happy forever. Maybe until my liver gives out or I'll need hip replacements. But I'm still young and fit as ever. The world is my oyster and I don't plan on giving it up anytime soon. One of my friends, Emily, from a local pack holds her legendary s*x parties once every few months. They're known for being incredible, I should know, I've been to the last three. They're definitely something for the memory box. Today will go down in history. No one judges. We're all safe to protect ourselves and each other. Everyone needs to release their frustrations, their built up lust and desire of a good f**k. It's werewolf nature to be sexually active, I don't think we should be blamed or shamed for it. Emily likes to bed anyone and everyone. She doesn't care about your s****l orientation or your gender. All she sees is s*x, s*x, s*x. That's why she's known for throwing parties that are unforgettable. I met Emily around three years ago at a committee meeting. We both stood together talking about how parties could be used for other things than grouping together wolves for the sake of their territories and their packs. What if it could be used for something like pleasure? We're werewolves after all. We have needs. That's when she decided to invest in creating a safe space for those who wish to experiment, play and have fun without feeling like they're being judged for having natural urges. I lost Emily pretty much when the second people started arriving. At this point they know the deal. We all do. Sometimes there are newbies who just watch and others who put on shows because they are s*x gods. Currently I'm upstairs in one of the many bedrooms, getting my wet p***y f****d into the next century by Louie or Louis or... I can't remember. His c**k is ramming in and out of me, the headboard colliding with the wall at a ravaging pace. The best thing about these parties, you never have to worry about being quiet. The louder the better, sometimes it's even thrilling when people decide to stop and watch as you get ploughed into whatever surface you're getting f****d on. "Look at me," he growls and I snap my eyes open. Tears swim in my eyes as he drills into me, over and over until my p***y is wrecked. I'm not going to be able to take much more tonight when he's done with me. I've barely been here an hour and it's definitely going to have to be an early one. The thing about s*x parties is that I've had s*x with so many people, I never worry about growing an emotional connection with them. I could never fall in love. s*x is s*x. That's obvious. But it’s for my pleasure, I don't care if they like me. I like s*x. End of. It might be selfish but at least I know what I want. And I make it extremely clear too. A hand clasps around my throat and he pins me to the bed, legs over his shoulders. f**k. I'm so damn close but I don't want to c*m yet, not when we've barely even started. I can go again later, that's for sure but I don't want to be too sore to take it again. Louis or Louie grunts and moves his thumb over my lips, parting them and forcing it inside my mouth. I suck as I stare at him directly in the eye, he pounds me harder to the point of actual heaven. Holy f**k. I'll definitely be coming back for round two with him. I throw my head back to the pillow, God. So close. So close. Goosebumps cascade down my arms, my senses tingling when I feel someone approach the door. It isn't shut but it isn't directly open either. Anyone can walk in any time and watch, I don't mind, but this feels different. So different and I can't pinpoint why. I attempt to twist my head but I'm pinned down by the neck. My chest inhales deeply and suddenly my heart slams into my ribcage like a sledgehammer, I can't breathe. My eyes glaze over with mist and then darkness. My mind spins into a frenzy, I'm numb everywhere and it's not from the s*x. The guy begins to slow down but he doesn't stop. I am shaking. Literally shaking. Every part of my body begins to prick and burn until my wolf howls at the top of its lungs inside me, screaming and screaming. What the f**k is wrong? I move my gaze to the door when my eyes fall upon a guy standing in the doorway, long tousled black hair that stops at the nape of his neck and piercing dark eyes. My body glows with golden sparkles and rainbows, f**k. This feels so f*****g good. Mind-numbingly good. The connection is immediate, I forget where I am for a split second. Then I focus back on his eyes but I can't even tell what colour they are because they're dilated to the extreme but not with arousal, with pure intensified anger. Mate. Mate. Mate. My wolf chants on repeat.