Fiction Friday 2/10/17 Tale Weaver #106

Hello, and welcome to Fiction Friday where I share some of my writing. This week’s post is a response to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver No. 106. This week they are asking for a tale to be woven where touch is important.

WARNING: FOR MATURE READERS ONLY

1,801 words, 6-8 Minute Read

Chapter 1

His lips left tiny burning trails against my shoulders and neck as he pressed his body against mine, his hands tugging at the towel wrapped around me. I closed my eyes and reveled in his touch. Why was he doing this to me? Time and time again I’d dreamt about him, yet only recently had the dreams turned increasingly sexual.

His arm cupped my butt and he picked me up, carrying me to the bed and laying me down gently, softly, as if I were something valuable and precious to him. He pulled the towel away and threw it to the floor. His lips made a trail down my body while his hands rubbed my thighs. There I lay, bare, naked, completely exposed for his eyes to see and hands to caress.

I rocked my hips back and forth as his lips kissed my inner thigh. As the moan escaped my lips I looked down; his eyes locked on mine, a predatory look in his eyes that caused my whole body to shiver. He smiled and slid up my body, nipping and sucking my flesh as he went. I pulled the sheets and moaned louder. His lips, his hands, his everything set me on fire.

My mind flashed to the first time he’d touched me.We had just been sitting across from each other in the grass, talking and laughing. I had fallen over from laughing so hard and had hurt my hand. He’d reached out, taken it in his and kissed it, igniting a small fire that was now fully stoked and out of control. I wanted to stop him and calm the fire, gain some control back.

But dammit, it just felt too fucking good.

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Photo found on Pixabay

I awoke from my dream sweating, the blankets on the floor and my window open, and the curtains flowing in the breeze.

“Fuck,” I muttered, closing the window and picking the blankets up. I was sick and tired of having these dreams. They left me horny, tired, aggravated, and sweaty.

“Very, very, sweaty indeed,” I sighed, realizing that my sheets were completely soaked and my feet were even coated in sweat. The clock read: 4:27am. Might as well shower early, the sun would rise in about two hours and then it would be time to get to work.

As I got out of the shower Castor ran past me with no regard for knocking anyone down in his way. He wasn’t usually up this early. My twin brother spent most of his time either in his room or out with his friends partying, more of the latter than the former. He never rushed anywhere unless it was to sneak out of the house. His rapid movements piqued my interest, so I walked to his room to see what was up.

“What’s going on?” I asked him as he frantically moved around his room, shoving things in to a bag; his room was a mess. He didn’t even turn around as he spoke to me.

“Father says that there was an intruder last night and he’s putting together a team to investigate it. If I show him that I’m already packed and ready he’ll put me on it.”

I snickered, leaning my head against the door jam. “Castor, Father isn’t gonna allow you on that team. You know he only experienced pack members are on that team, usually the same ones. Plus, with your track record he barely even lets you out of our territory anymore. Do you think really think you’ll be picked?”

He turned around and snarled at me, throwing a piece of clothing in his hand at my head. Easily I caught it and tossed it back at him, hitting him in the chest.

“Fuck you,” he growled, turning back around to finish packing.

I sighed, realizing that there was no convincing him that his motions were futile. “Castor, listen to me, alright? Even if you do go, you’re packing all of the wrong stuff. I can hear Father moving around downstairs, preparing to go outside. Go in my room, take my bag, and jump out of the window to the yard.”

My brother turned around and gave me a look that he’d never given me before. I arched an eyebrow, curious to see if any monumental words were going to be spoken. However, there were none. He smirked, kissed my brow, and ran down the hall.

I shook my head and followed him. Such an odd brother Castor was.

By the time I got downstairs and grabbed breakfast everyone was already outside. I took my time getting outside, knowing that they wouldn’t start without me. After all, the pack leader, my father, took my opinion in to high consideration about things like this. Of course he had a Beta and an Omega that he looked to as well, but my abilities held me in a higher position than them.

Unfortunately.

Ever since I was born I had tried many ways to get rid of my abilities. To others, they were a gift, but to me they were a curse. To forever be needed and used by the pack because of my powers was the way I saw it. I was born in to this position, so I should be grateful and appreciate what the gods had bestowed on me.

Yeah, what a sack of bullshit that was. Zeus and his friends were just playing with us like we were chess pieces. They decided to make the game more interesting so they added someone like me in to the mix; a werewolf with magical powers.

Every pack member sat in the clearing facing my father as he sat on a tree stump. Next to my father were his Beta, Jacklyn and his Omega, Issac, who were married to each other. They’d been in those positions since I was born, which was a long time ago. Werewolves, especially with some sort of ability, lived longer than normal wolves, and werewolves lived way longer than any normal human.

“Finally,” my father grumbled, radiating frustration. He eyes floated over to Caster and he closed them and shook his head, and continued.

“I called this meeting to inform you all that we had another intruder last night.” The wolves murmured and whispered amongst themselves. It wasn’t often that we had intruders. Occasionally humans wandered over here, but other wolves could scent that this territory was taken and either veered away or came and asked permission to be on our land. But over the last couple of months it had become a lot more frequent.

“Now do not panic, a team will be assembled to scout every inch of the area to see if they can pick up any familiar scents. But just so everyone knows…” I began to zone out, distracted. My mind focused on the dream I’d had and wondered why they kept plaguing me. For the past year they had come and gone, inconsistently, but they felt so very real, as if I would wake up and he would be there in the room or laying next to me.

I rubbed my arm where I could still feel his touch, but as usual whenever I replayed the dreams in my head his face was blurry and indistinguishable, which frustrated me even more. It wasn’t enough that I had magical powers, I now had questionable mysterious dreams.

A lot of weird things had happened around and to me because of these powers, but nothing such as this, nothing quite so…intimate and personal.

“Rayan!” I turned my head to my father, standing at attention. Irritation covered his features; he must have called me more than once. From my peripheral I could see the other pack members eyeing me, walking away from the large empty space. It seemed as though the meeting had ended. Jacklyn and Issac were standing a bit aways, calling out names that were no doubt for the scouting party.

I walked forward. “Yes father.” He motioned that I sit next to him. I did. He sighed deeply and rubbed his face, looking much older than he actually was and extremely tired.

“Talk to me Rayan, what is on your mind?” A rare question from him. Usually our conversations consisted of pack business.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Everything and nothing, father.” I used my shoe to push dirt around. We had been so close before my powers had awoken and after that he’d just become distant and straightforward. Every time we interacted it felt a little bit awkward.

He looked over at the group of wolves still in the clearing. “I can always tell when something other than the usual drama is on your mind. You’ve been distracted a lot lately, quiet, reserved, which isn’t like you. Not to mention I can’t afford to have you like this, you’re one of the most important members of this pack.” He reached over and put his arm around my shoulders.

I wouldn’t say it was a power, per-se, but my father could always tell if someone was lying, especially when he touched them. “You know, just ability stuff, girl stuff,” I muttered awkwardly, which wasn’t a lie. I knew the last part would make him back up a bit, which he did.

He rubbed my arm and nodded. We both looked up at the same time to see my mother exiting the house, dressed impeccably. She had bore a half dozen children and still didn’t look over 35. My father smiled and patted my arm before getting up, his attention completely focused on her, to my relief.

In mid-stride he turned to me and said, “Keep me posted about that, ‘stuff.'”

Issac called out my name and I rolled my eyes. I raised an eyebrow at my father like, “Am I really necessary?” His face turned stern and his head jerked in the direction of the gathered group. I got up and approached them. Castor, who had been standing close by, stormed angrily over to Jacklyn and Issac. Usually when my name was called it was to round out the group.

Jacklyn held her hand up before Castor got withing fifteen feet of her. “You’re wild, inexperienced, and this isn’t playtime, this is serious.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” He growled. Castor took a few moments and calmed his flaring temper before he continued. “I’m ready, please just give me a chance,” he begged. Our parents were too wrapped up in each other to care about Castor’s little fit. As far as our father was concerned, Issac and Jacklyn’s word was his word on this matter.

“I’ll look after him,” I said, walking over to him and putting my arm around his shoulders like our father had just done me. “After all, what are siblings for?”

One thought on “Fiction Friday 2/10/17 Tale Weaver #106”

  1. I really liked this, very engaging, you had me intrigued the whole way and yes I would like to read what happens next. You certainly explored the ‘touch’ concept very well in your beginning and one thinks there ill be some reality to the dreams, at some point. I also like the context in which you wrote it as well it lends itself to further composition and development. Thank you so much for participating in this week’s Tale Weaver.

    Like

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