Bite in the butt

Alastor watched while Manea eviscerated the other wild ass, pulling it to the ground so her feline-like claws could rend through its flesh and rip it open like a macabre parcel. Blood and viscera spilled from its guts, trails of intestines dangling from the donkey while it kicked away and tried to run, only to collapse and succumb to the trauma and blood loss. The dire brute felt a shiver of desire run down his spine and settle between his thighs while he watched the display, the last of the fleeing asses completely forgotten as he stared at his wife's own shapely ass, a different sort of hunger and lust overcoming him. No longer did he care about the relentless sun or the incessant sand. He wanted Manea.

Without a word, Alastor strode over to his mate, noting how she was also wearing a healthy coating of blood around her muzzle and face. He grinned at the sight of his bloody queen, lifting a large paw to catch her jaw and hold her still while he ran a long, slow lick over her muzzle, tasting the blood on her while he cleaned her. She was beautiful always, but she was even more beautiful when she was covered in blood. Still holding her muzzle, Alastor brought his lips hard to hers, claiming her mouth in a heated kiss. While he slid his tongue into her maw, the behemoth looped his free foreleg around her side to literally sweep her off her feet, bringing her down to the soft, powdery and warm sands beneath them. He didn't give a damn if they got covered in sand, and he didn't give a damn if any other wolves lurked in the desert to see them. He wanted Manea, and he wasted no time in positioning himself on top of her and having his way with her.

- fade -


"Alastor"