The Prophesied Claim

The Werewolves of Ossory

Despite the earlier heat of our joining, no words or touches are exchanged as Alec efficiently washes and steps from the shower. I see him quickly toweling dry through the fogged glass of the doors, and can't help but admire the fine lines that make up his body. And the tattoo. 

The extremely hard to miss tattoo that I've just realized is both there and takes up a huge portion of his back. The historian in me is snagged as I begin to recognize the heavy black lines that form a Celtic triskelion starting at the middle of his shoulder blades and nearly grazing the top of his very fine ass. So entranced am I with the way the water slides down the symbol, and disappears beneath the towel that's now knotted around his waist, I don't realize I'm panting.

The suddenness of the arousal is shocking, as is the way he seems to immediately sense the trail of my thoughts. Holding a towel in his hand he reaches into the shower, turns it off, and enfolds me. Lifting me free of the shower's confines, I stand still on the plushy bath rug and find myself reaching for him again. But he grabs my hands.

"I'm serious, Sirena. We have to talk. This is out of hand now. There are things that I've gotta say."

"Mmm." I murmur leaning forward to catch a stray water bead with my tongue. I follow its trail down the rigid muscles of his abdomen and feel him suck in a breath as I catch the edge of the towel in my teeth. "Oops." I say as the towel hits the floor, leaving nothing between my mouth and his already rock hard c**k.

"Dammit." He groans sinking both hands into my hair.

I lick delicately at the underside of the head, taking my time, working my way up and down the shaft before sucking the tip into my mouth. It's like that day on the bean bags all over again. I just need him everywhere. I need him to thrust his c**k down my throat and c*m all over me. I need him inside me. I need his scent all over me. I need him to mark me as his.

Then he's pulling me off him and I'm protesting, but only as long as it takes to shove me forward so I'm gripping the edge of the bathtub and I feel his body behind me. He pulls my head back by the hair, sinking his teeth into the top of my shoulder as he thrusts into me from behind. The feel of his teeth biting down as his body invades mine is exactly what I want. I feel the climax rush up to meet me as I scream his name, but it isn't enough. More. More More.

He growls animalistically and I realize I'm chanting it aloud. Begging him to pound into me. To make me c*m over and over again. Until I can't move. Can't breath. Can't remember when he wasn't part of me.

"Alec. I need..."

"I know." And he does.

More silence as we dress.

He answers the door for Chinese food in yet another pair of sweatpants probably making the teenage girl delivering our food cream her panties I think hatefully. I try to retreat into a less s****l, ridiculously jealous being through a ratty pair of leggings and oversized sweatshirt.

"What do you know about the fianna?" He asks, spreading food across the coffee table.

I pause in the act of opening chopsticks, "You mean the Irish warriors?" He nods, frowning into a container of Lo Mein. "They were mostly males. Landless, though not specifically poor. Often hired to fight and protect. Of course they were ferocious. Like wolves."

"Yes." he whispers. "And what do you know about the Werewolves of Ossory."

Shrugging, I chew a bite of orange chicken, "I've heard the term, but never really read anything about it. A band of fianna that were given to "wolfing" or raiding I think. Some people believed they were really able to become wolves. A werewolf legend for Ireland, but different from the American version. They weren't evil, the opposite in fact."

He leans back to study my face, and I swipe self-consciously at the corner of my mouth to hastily remove soy sauce that's flicked across my cheek.

"They're family. The wolves."

I nod in a lame show of understanding, "So, that's why you're a cop, right. Having that kind of lineage you'd want to make your ancestors proud. Not a lot of battle battles to fight anymore." And I kick myself and mutter.

"Battle battles?" he questions with a smirk in my direction.

I point my chopsticks at him, and he holds his hands up in mock surrender.

"You're partially right. Definitely being a cop is a good place for me right now. Being a wolf gives me certain advantages in the field."

A fit of giggling overtakes me, "Like you're good at "sniffing out criminals"?"

"Exactly."

The look on his face is dead serious. Great. He's offended.

"Sirena." He grasps my hand in his, tracing the knuckles, before bringing the fingers to his mouth. "What if I told you the Werewolves of Ossory were both men and wolves? That they really could access a second part of themselves? Become the wolf to better protect their lands and families?"

Not offended. Nope. f*****g crazy as s**t and in my house. Also, hot as hell. No. I actually slap myself on the forehead to try to pound the point home. Crazy as s**t and in my house. Good job, me.

I slowly try to extricate my hand from his, "Well, that would be an incredibly interesting discovery. I'm sure scientists would love to discover such a possibility. Broaden the scope of human understanding and all. Yep. That'd be great for mankind. Like landing on the moon is great."

His green eyes are dancing with merriment, "So, if I told you I was pretty sure you were a wolf too?"

"Nope. Not today, Satan. Just gonna finish this great food here and go to bed. Yep. Feel free to leave and..." Alec stands and places his hands on the waistband of his sweats, I stupidly cover my eyes, "What are you doing? Stop. Keep your pants on." I sound panicked.

"Proving it to you, Doubting Thomas." His laughter causes me to peek through my fingers at his now naked self. It's seriously worth whatever crazy he's selling to take a look at what he's packing. I mean. Come on. Would it be that bad to keep...NO. Stop it, Sirena. It doesn't help that the part in question is definitely paying attention to my close scrutiny and starts to rise to the occasion.

"Ready, Sirena?"