bare your heart

the reminder means nothing to your werewolf husband, who just grinds into you harder. nudging his cock right into your clothed belly, close enough to coming to make his legs shake.

"just throw one'a our wallets out the window and tell 'em to leave it on the steps. we're busy," he grunts, swiping some of his slobber from your chin and reaching past your belly to dig his fingers inside the center of your panties and mix it with the slick. he rubs upwards, dragging the touch right over your clit before removing his hand to press and wiggle the pad of his thumb into the swollen nub from over the thin material.

that almost gets you. almost.

you distract him with a few scratches against his hairy pecs long enough to wriggle out of his unknowingly-loosened grip. he does even realize your slinking away from him until his tongue slips out of your mouth, and his cock meets cold air.

"i'll be, like, two minutes. five at most," you promise, hastily searching for a pair of shorts to throw on to the sound of a second doorbell ring. at the same time, the two of you shout:

"be right there!"

"just leave it and go!"

you throw a loose sock in the werewolf's direction, accidentally snickering when it lands right on his face. as you scurry out, your husband just sulks in his surrendered groan, stretching his entire body at an angle that takes up the entire mattress and bobs his cock helplessly in the air.

huffing, again, he yanks your pillow from behind his head and shoves it against the underside his shaft. at least it smells like you. the feel is off though. understandably so. but he only rocks his hips harder. arching from the bed and thinking about you tonguing his sack.

since when did you start liking pizza so badly? you could be up here folded up like a pretzel or riding his face sloppy style. milking loads that pulse out to the rhythm of your name. squirting squirt he would rather soon drown in then have you away from him like this. all the way at the front door.

through all the pants and rushing blood, werewolf husband hears a "thank you so much, keep the change" that makes him pause.

it's you.

giggly and… kind.

quick but in that tone that will have the wolf wrapped around your finger, the one he should be sucking on right now, for the the rest of his life.

his balls tighten at the clunk of a shutting door. listening harder, your husband sniffs past the smell of tomato and cheese. swallowing at the sound of your footsteps trailing into the kitchen, then back toward the bedroom.

your arrival snatches a rough sniff from the wolf.

no way those shorts were that tight when you left the room, he would've noticed. and you nipples, they're… they're loud. exceptionally visible through your old shirt… which also happens to be dirtied at the cropped belly with stains of smeared precum. the skin of your stomach is showing and your lips are swollen and the side of your chin is still all shiny with a spot of werewolf drool.

oh, jesus.

"fuck me," your husband mumbles, thick and from the back of his throat. he watches you peel off the shorts and messy shirt but leave on the underwear. apparently wanting him dead

"see, told you. few minutes," you breathe out, scratching at the back of your neck and dropping the clothes onto the floor. "he was nice, too."

pizza man was nice, huh? that's… nice.

the wolf hums something low, pillow forgotten to watch you crawl onto the bed and back next to him. doing a little stretch before curling toward him to press slow kisses into his jaw. the only part of him that moves is his dick. jumping a few times at the feeling of your lips on him.

"was he now?"

"mmhm," you nod, nosing at the thick hair of his beard with more kisses. your hand reaches for his ear to catch one of his ear lobes with your fingers and tug. "said they were crazy busy tonight, and how it's only him and another driver. poor things."

poor things. like that weird ass movie you made him watch.

werewolf husband finally moves. he drags his eyes to yours and doesn't stop looking, staring hard as he rolls on top of you. you're talking and talking, and he just watches. mushing you between the bed now, rubbing the side of your face with his palm.

he doesn't wait until you're done to kiss you. in the middle of your fifth sentence, he's sinking his mouth onto yours and gliding his tongue past your lips.

while you kiss, his shoulders get tight. tight enough for you to pull yourself from the snog with a pinched brow.

"wolfie?"

"hm?"

"…are you okay?"

his eyes search you face, harder this time. after a deep breath, he pecks your nose and then lulls you onto your stomach.

"budge up a bit, baby," the wolf orders in a quiet voice with a grab of your hip to lift your waist. "little more… good."

nice.

you arch until your ass is poked up and out, arms folded accordingly to squish your cheek against. a sudden pressure against your clit tumbles a broken, whining moan from you. it's his thumb mashing the material of your panties into where you're all slippery through the fabric.

"shh, shh, shh," he peppers out when you start a desperate wiggle backwards, lightening the touch of his finger enough to make you pout. "i know, sugar."

from above, he takes another second to look at you. inhale until his lungs are full of your scent, and slowly rip the last barrier between you and he. the panties tear with a loud, stretching rip that you don't get a chance to react to before the head of your husband's cock is giving heavy, wet smacks against your ass.

what? you made him wait. it's only fair considering how good he's about to fuck you. well enough to you'll forget the nice pizza man.

"wolfie." a whimper from you, plus another squirm. he sees your asshole and slit clench at the same time, and grins.

"what's all this about, hm?" he dips his tip, only a little, into your pussy. just enough to make sure you feel it. "is it really pizza that gets my sweet thing all messy like this?"

he swipes his head again, only to growl at the pool of your juices that collect on his cock.

you were damn near leaking through your short shorts down there while talking to the pizza man. getting pizza.

the slide in is purposefully sluggish. a slow push of his hips forward with his hands keeping you from shoving back like your body keeps trying to do.

"aht aht. we'll get there… soon as you gimme a good please," the wolf rumbles out, voice a little strained when he laughs at the fast begs that exit you. laced with tears, you ask and plead with your husband.

betcha said please to the pizza man, too. he's not sure when or how, but you probably found a way. you're sweet like that.

the wolf's head throws back once he's all the way inside. you're squeezing so tight. warming him up already and almost making him forget what he's dragging this out for.

oh, right.

the pizza and its man.

your husband solidifies the hands on your waist. filling his palms with the plush blowing a breath with puffed out cheeks. there's a little sweat in his eyes, cause you make him hot, but all he cares about is the noise that crawls out of you at his first thrust.

he makes sure to go deep. deep and angled so that you're already starting to cream around him by the fifth thrust.

"w-wolfie–ah, fuck. yeah," your mouth pours out, clutching the sheets around your hands you as best you can, jaw hanging at each smack of his skin against yours.

there's a bit of green in werewolf husband's stroke. it knocks his balls, heavier-looking than normal due to all this waiting, back and forth with wild, sloppy swings. the green blinds him a bit, too, tunneling his vision until all he sees is you reaching backward to feel his side–

mm-mm. no, no. all you did was reach for the guy, and he's breaking already. what've you done to him?

"stomach," werewolf husband orders. "on your tummy, baby. like before."

he doesn't pull out when giving you a long enough second to shuffle off your knees and into the bed. he's laughably quick in following your movement, sinking himself balls deep inside you and sagging until you're slurring those words. he wraps an arm around your until his bicep is close enough for you to mush you mouth into, and you shiver out a fresh string of curses.

"oh, theeere it is, that's it." the wolf purrs his victory just over your ceaseless wails. "tha's what i was lookin' for."

"s'd-deep," you wheeze, clutching the arm at your face. you can feel him everywhere. from the inside out, then back around once more. the pump of his thrusts are keeping you unable to form any true sentences. all that leaves you is drool and one-to-two word, breathless communications. "i… i… feels–oh, god."

"am i deep, baby? you feel me nice 'n deep in there?"

"mmhm," you try to bob your head but it just slicks your lips against his wet skin as your body jerks according to his bounce of his hips.

"mmhm," he echoes, lip bit in a heated concentration, other hand spreading against the bed for more leverage. his ass, built up by long nights of running after prey in his younger days, is a sight to behold from behind. in all his rutting, you husband finds another grinding pattern to fuck you with that gets you louder. earns him another polish of moisture to ring around the base of his cock. rolls his eyes and tugs out the words that have been swirling around his head. "nice 'n deep in my pussy. mine. s'just fer me t'fuck like this long as we want…"

dinner is a long lost cause. neither of you even remember how to spell the word 'pizza' after your fifth peak, his fourth. you're still oozing dollops of the wolf's thick, thick seed while you teeter between an exhausted wake and irresistible sleep.

you barely move when he hauls his weak limbs until his face is back between your legs, tugging your cheeks apart to cup his tongue and swipe wide licks all the way up to your asshole. it curls in a way you've never been able to figure out, twisting in messy slurps.