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An Order Of Fate

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Summary

My little beast gave a scream-y howl of pure and raw need, urging me to go closer. To breathe his scent deep into our lungs and steal a taste of his lips. Paranormal Mature Short Stories based on love and loss, blood, lust and bone. An order of fate is where I'll be posting random writings, incomplete stories that never quite made it and stories that might still stand a chance. Content will contain shifters, vampires, ghosts, witches and many more. Teaser: We locked eyes and then he was on me, dwarfing my frame with his massive bulk. He pulled the clothes from my body, tearing and ripping his way through the fabric in his haste to expose more of my supple flesh. His hands felt like they were everywhere all at once, tracing a path of fire into my skin that had my back arching and rocking into the bed.

Genre:
Fantasy / Romance
Author:
Natasha Willemse
Status:
Ongoing
Chapters:
5
Rating:
5.0 1 review
Age Rating:
18+

Bear With Me

Sucking the frigid air into my lungs, I tightened my thin coat around my waist and pressed my gloved hands deep into my pockets. My breath expelled in a puff of white vapor and my muscles ached as the cold crept beneath my clothes and cut through my skin. Like a freezing fog it wrapped around my spine and seeped into my veins. My hair whipped around my face and I ducked my head against the biting wind. I could feel my body heat leaching through my soles and into the frozen ground underfoot. I sniffled, my nose red and numb to the tip.

“I need to find a better job,” I muttered unhappily to myself, “warmer clothes.”

The tiny beast beneath my skin emitted a piercing wine into my mind and I walked a little faster, trying to work the stiffness from my legs.

Glancing ahead, everything was quiet, as if the entire city had been put to bed. Everything was covered in a thick blanket of white, the shingle rooftops peeking through nature’s eider-down. The clouds were black and full. The wet flakes plastered my hair against my neck and had an icy trickle roll down my back.

You’d think I would have grown used to the weather by now. That I would at the very least have grown an appreciation for the flakes of floating ice. God knows, I had lived here long enough, but it wasn’t quite that easy.

I hated being cold.

Hated all the layers of clothing I had to wear to the point of being almost mummified and unable to move. Being a fennec fox shifter did not come with a lot of perks in the freezing winter climate of Khabarovsk, the coldest damn city in all of Russia. Fennec foxes thrived best in deserts like the Sahara of North Africa. My little beast detested the snow. It would have been better suited if the fates had graced me with the animal spirit of an arctic fox, but I could not get myself as far as to actively wish for it. The little beast was as much a part of me as the cold land I had been born into.

With another dramatic wine of my fox, I pulled my wool cap down to cover my frozen ears and tucked as much of my thick hair under the edge as I could manage. The wind picked up and the snow beat against my body anew. My cheeks felt raw and I could hardly feel my feet in the four pairs of socks I had pulled on under my snow boots this morning.

Huffing into the moist air, I trudged forward with quiet determination, the white ground turning mushy beneath the soles of my boots.

I could hardly wait to witness the spring melt. I wanted to see more than the brown of denuded trees, I longed for the green of grass poking through the white powder. However, until the flakes had settled and our coldest season had passed, I would have to content with other means of warmth. Right now those things included a fireplace and an extra-large cup of hot cocoa.

I sighed in relief when I had finally trudged through the ankle deep snow of the parking lot and reached the front entrance to Na Pushkina Mall. I only lived four blocks away, but if I had owned a car I wouldn’t have walked it.

A shudder of pleasure rolled down my spine when I stepped through the large doors and was instantly wrapped in artificial warmth. I shrugged the snow from my jacket and pulled the wooly cap from my head. My fox gave a quick series of high-pitched barks, yipping out its pleasure at the sudden change in temperature. There was a reason I loved this place. Other than the delicious assortment of hot beverages served in the Shashlykoff café-bar, the temperature inside the mall was always the same, no matter the season. The exact opposite of my cold and dingy apartment, which still had those old asbestos panel heaters that I was too paranoid to use.

A strange sense of excitement boiled up in my belly when I reached the Shashlykoff and the door swung open beneath my hand. A few other customers glanced up at my entry, but quickly returned to their conversations - all except one.

The man had come from the back, clearly on his way out, when our eyes locked. He was staring at me and I couldn’t even pretend not to notice. The look he gave me was heated, primal, and it muted my ability to see or hear anything else. My stomach did a little flip and my body temperature rose into an awkward flush of my cheeks.

I couldn’t look away.

His eyes were like a well of dark ink and they shone with an intensity that weakened my resolve to act with any shred of normalcy. A few days’ worth of stubble coated his chiseled jaw and his hair was brushed away from his brow, accentuating his roman nose and every bit of his hard features. The male was tall and his bulk filled his neatly pressed grey suit with muscles that looked like they could tear through the seams if he made any sudden movements.

My little beast gave a scream-y howl of pure and raw need, urging me to go closer. To breathe his scent deep into our lungs and steal a taste of his lips. My instinct wrapped around my bones with a hiss of lust and want. There was a deep rooted ache in my belly that was turning my insides to liquid heat. I could feel it when my thighs rubbed together the moment I took that first tentative step in his direction. My instinct shot a jolt of need straight to my core and I almost crumbled under the onslaught of my own burning desire.

I didn’t believe in love at first sight the way humans did. The concept was a bit fairytale-esque for the life and the neighborhood I had grown up in. But this. This was different. My fox yipped and wined for the male’s touch with a need that was as naturally comfortable to me as my own instinct.

The connection wasn’t forced. We knew this male.

He was ours.

The male’s nostrils flared and he reached me in a few easy strides, his movements surprisingly graceful for the muscles bulging from his large frame. He wrapped his enormous hand around my upper arm and pulled me into his rumbling chest. He leaned down and nudged his nose against my neck in a way that saturated me in his scent.

Moya Lisitsa,” he grunted possessively and nipped at my skin.

My vixen.

Instinct burned through my veins with the heat of my arousal and my tiny beast preened at the male. He had felt our need and want and returned it. He had recognized us as his the way only another shifter could. With a delicate sniff of my fox, I took in a whiff of his scent, more delicious than any flavor. I inched my nose deeper into his hard chest. His smell was a mix of freshly grounded coffee beans from the café and something much larger than his human frame, more dangerous.

My eyes widened in realization and snapped up to his. “Medved.”

Da, my little fox. I am a bear, your bear.”

The confident admission slammed into me with such force that I had trouble remembering how to breathe. His voice was gruff and strummed the desire tighter around my bones. My instinct quivered and quaked, wanting more of his words, the transiency of them drawing me close. My fox gave another high-pitched yip as the realization settled that our male was a bear shifter. Our nose twitched as she sniffed.

Polar bear.

Our male cupped my face with his hand below my ear and his thumb tracing my jaw. “What is your name, moya lisitsa?”

I arched up into his broad chest, unable to ignore the part of my instinct that demanded we act on our need. That burn deep inside me that permeated my every thought with want. His hand drifted to my hip and I inhaled sharply at the swirl of dark desire in his eyes.

“Zoya,” I expelled my name on a shaky breath, almost collapsing in his arms with the energy it took to speak that single word.

His hand tightens on my hip and the other brushes my straw colored hair from my shoulder. I am pressed closer against him and my small beast gives a keen series of yipping barks into my mind. I want his kisses. His lips on mine and his large rough hands exploring every curve and crevasse of my heated flesh.

I could barely stand how much I wanted it.

Needed it.

“That is a beautiful name, moya zhenshchina.” A fresh wave of heat assaulted my core at being called his female. His bear growled into my neck when he scented the arousal threatening to leak from between my thighs. “I am called Viktor and you will be mine,” he gruffed dominantly. “Do you understand this?”

I nodded my head with an eager mewl. I wanted to express my feelings in their truest way, succumb to my most primal urges. I more than understood that I wanted to belong to this male. I craved it.

His eyes shone with promise as he gestured to the man I hadn’t realized was standing behind him. “Get the car, Alexei. We will be leaving now.”

Da, Mr. Vasiliev, right away,” the unknown male replied respectfully before his footsteps faded away.

“Vasiliev?” I practically squeaked.

His brows furrowed. “My name bothers you, Zoya?”

My eyes widened briefly when I recognized his name, but I quickly shook my head. “No. No, it doesn’t.”

It didn’t.

Viktor Vasiliev was a very rich and influential man, a member of the Russian mafia some believed. And yet this did not scare me, my instinct issued no warnings against him. He was our male.

“Good,” he growled into my ear. “I would not want to take you against your will.”

His voice was filled with dangerous promise that did nothing to lessen my want. In fact, the loaded statement had quite the opposite effect on my body. Maybe I would put up a struggle just to have him chase after me. My heart fluttered in my chest and my core clenched on instinct. I wanted so badly to be caught by him.

I came back to the present somewhat unwillingly as Viktor bundled me back into my jacket, grunting under his breath at the fresh scent of my arousal. The Shashlykoff had paled to a background of indistinguishable greys around us. I took no note of our surroundings or the people boring curious holes into our backs. They were not important to me or the little beast keening for attention beneath my skin.

He tucked me under his arm before leading me outside. A strong gust of icy wind stole my breath and the ground was wet and slippery beneath our feet before he huddled me into the car with great care. His body was surprisingly warm for being an arctic shifter and easily chased the chill from my skin. I looked up at him, his expression serious in a way that heated my bones and melted my insides. I shifted on the leather seat and leaned a little closer until my upper body pressed against his chest and his scent flooded my senses.

Viktor’s arm wrapped around my waist and his fingers pressed into my spine. “Moya lisitsa,” he accused before slamming his lips against mine and stealing the air from my lungs.

Greedily, I pressed closer against his chest and reached up to wrap my arms around his thick neck. His tongue delved into my mouth, pushing at mine – twisting and sucking. Angling my head more to the side, he delved viciously deeper, claiming my mouth in a way I wished he would my body. My skin flushed as a fresh wave of heat crashed into my core, trembling through my muscles and fluttering through my chest.

He pulled back to lift me from the car and I moaned at the loss. I could remember nothing of the drive here and I couldn’t find it in me to be bothered. I rubbed my breasts unashamedly against his strong chest, wanting to draw him back to my lips.

“Vikor, please,” I pleaded through the yips and guttural chatters of my fox.

Viktor grunted his understanding and nipped at my bottom lip. Our breaths mingled as he carried me up a set a stairs and a door banged shut behind us. He shifted my legs to wrap around his broad hips and stretched me wide open. His hands rove over every inch of my flesh, kneading and claiming. I sucked in irregular gulps of air and only soared higher with every rough inhale of his scent.

It felt like I would explode from my own skin if he didn’t take me soon.

He threw me to the bed with a soft bounce and my body instantly burned for his contact. “I will try to be gentle, moya zhenshchina,” Viktor growled through clenched teeth. The muscles rippled and coiled in his thick, strong arms when he reached for his belt. “I will try.”

I knew what he meant. My little beast was a little put out by our male’s doubt in our strength, but I understood. I was no mere human, but our mate was bear. He was larger in every way.

My breath hitched in my throat and my fennec mewled sharply when our male finally stood naked before us.

Hard and thick.

We locked eyes and then he was on me, dwarfing my frame with his massive bulk. He pulled the clothes from my body, tearing and ripping his way through the fabric in his haste to expose more of my supple flesh. His hands felt like they were everywhere all at once, tracing a path of fire into my skin that had my back arching and rocking into the bed. There was an electrical current shooting through my veins and igniting my soul.

Bite male.

Make him breed us.

Take his seed. Birth his cubs.

“I want it,” I pleaded against his touch. “I need you inside, please.”

“Shh, moya zhenshchina, you need not beg.” My pale breast spilled from his rough hand as he cupped and kneaded my soft flesh. “You will have all of me, over you, inside you. Always.”

A needy moan escaped my lips and he swept in to kiss me with a raw and terrifying intensity. Viktor traced a finger through my folds and grabbed the back of my neck roughly before thrusting the thick digit knuckle deep inside me. I whimpered in pleasure and reached for him, needing to feel more of him. All that he promised.I dug my sharp nails into his back and rode his finger like a wanton, wanting more, needing it deeper.

Viktor pulled away and my instinct wrapped around my bones in protest, gekkering inside me to take what we needed. My body writhed and my breathing changed and then he was there, gripping my thigh and thrusting inside me – stretching and taking. His mouth swallowed the howl of ecstasy and pain from my mouth as he growled his own into the kiss. Our bodies moved together as if he had owned every inch of me a thousand times before. I never wanted it to end, never wanted Viktor’s body to leave mine, but our passion was too great. He held my hip with a firm grip, resting his weight entirely on the elbow next to my head and rocked wildly inside me.

The ecstasy of my climax crawled across my skin and the sharp thin teeth of my fox filled my mouth, my instinct screaming inside me to take the bear as our mate.

My gums ached with the need to place our mark on his skin and I lunged forward just as pleasure exploded through my core. Biting down hard, my teeth sliced into his neck. The taste of his blood burned my tongue and heightened my pleasure. Viktor bellowed his release and I buried my nails in his back as I fell into mine.

Lazy shudders still quivered through my limbs as I licked at the wound, cleaning the small punctures between rasping breaths. Viktor’s hand fisted into my hair and pulled me from his neck. I gasped when I looked up at him. His skin rippled with the force of his beast and he grunted through long sharp teeth, fighting for control over his bear.

The bear won.

Sinking its teeth into the swell of my breast, over my heart, and banishing the Russian cold from my soul with the warmth of his claim.

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