Werewolves and Innocence Complete Bundle

Chapter Three: Innocent

Chapter Three: InnocentIt becomes a routine that he is too selfish to stop. She doesn't ask if she could join him in bed at night. Instead, she seems to have taken that night as a permission to slip into his bedroom every night thereafter. She climbs into his bed, making a space for herself at his side. But not before pressing a shy kiss on the corner of his mouth. It's an exquisite sort of torture.

More than once, he thinks of reeling her in every time she does it, yanking her back before she can pull away so he can deepen the kiss, lick into her mouth and show her what a proper kiss is supposed to be like. But that would be both selfish and wrong so he wraps his arms around her waist, tugging her in and fitting her close to his chest. He's gotten used to having her in his bed, her sweet scent permeating the air and mixing with his own.

He thought he had gotten used to the way she smelled, but his scent mixed with hers in such close proximity makes him dizzy with want, the wolf side of him desperate to claim her for his own. He squeezes his eyes shut, shaking off the fog as he lets her shifts his arms into a more comfortable position for herself.

He thought it would be harder to sleep with her so close, but it's the opposite. He sleeps better than he's ever slept before.

He wakes before her every morning to deal with the hard-on from sleeping so close to her. She's so perfect and soft in the morning too, especially when he has to fold the blanket off himself to climb out of the bed. He allows himself a glimpse of her then, all sleep-soft and completely unaware of how much he wants her.

He disgusts himself sometimes.

He jerks off in the bathroom like a teenager and vehemently does not think of soft skin under his body, lush lips parted in little gasping sobs. He comes to the thought of her arching up to him, the warmth of her skin against his own and washes away his guilt and self-loathing in steaming hot water and soap that smells like cherry blossoms because it's her favorite.

There are times when he's glad she's human and now is one of them. If she was a wolf, she would be able to tell exactly what he had been doing in the bathroom the moment he stepped out. He turns his back to her and changes into his work clothes even though she is still asleep.

When he's dressed, he rubs his palm to her cheek. "Time to wake up," he says, knowing how much she hates sleeping in even on a weekend. He allows himself the indulgence of leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. "Wake up, puppet," he murmurs, inhaling her scent deep in his lungs, wishing he could keep her here forever.

She smells like a virgin still and he knows she hasn't done anything with anyone since breaking up with the boy, Sam. It had surprised him, really, when he found that she hasn't had s*x with the boy. He's a year older than them and she's not yet eighteen, but most teenagers don't really hesitate before going after what they want to make themselves feel good.

Then again, his pup has always been particularly goal-oriented. She needs to work so much harder than most to get where she is and he's intensely proud of her for what she's achieved.

Her birthday is a quiet affair, celebrated a day late because she had an exam on the day of her birthday and she needed to focus. He purchased a car for her, a stunning silver Sypder that the dealer had assured him would be safe even for beginner drivers. She already knows how to drive, but she has to count on him to drive her places because they share a vehicle.

"I don't need my own car," she says, looking just a little bit disappointed, like she had been expecting something else.

"You're going to need it to go to work, wouldn't you?" he says.

She gives him a cryptic look, one that suggests she is hiding a secret she's not ready to share with him yet and he bites his tongue to keep himself from demanding to know it. He's supposed to give her space. "Thank you, Daddy," she teases, leaning up to press a kiss directly onto his lips.

He tries not to let it get to him. One of these days, he knows he's going to have to tell her to stop testing boundaries, stepping past that invisible line in the sand and see how he would react. There is no line. He would give her the world.

She climbs into the seat of the car and caresses the steering wheel, smiling brightly at him. "It's beautiful," she says.

He's too busy looking at her to see the car at all. "Look at you," he says, taking a picture of her in the seat of the car so he can distract himself from how good she looks. "All grown up."

She grins at him, carefree and ecstatic. They had just reached home from a very delicious and possibly overpriced dinner. The waitress had mistaken her for his wife and instead of upsetting her, she had a peculiar look on her face that he didn't quite comprehend.

They rest early that night. He's had a long day at work and she's just finished all her exams, so she's exhausted.

When it comes time for him to head to bed, she surprises him by following him up to his room and climbing into the bed with him. He tries not to think about how well she fits against him, all curled up and perfect.

It should worry him that this has turned into their new normal. Having her in his arms like this feels right. He closes his eyes-

"Do you think there's something wrong with me?" she whispers in the dark.

He startles. He had been close to falling asleep when her soft voice woke him. "Baby?" he asks without thinking and tenses.

She doesn't seem to mind, nuzzling up to him with a happy little sound. She's turns around some time when he was drowsing so that she's pressing her breasts to his chest, blinking up at him, the perfect picture of innocence. Surely she's doing this on purpose. "Do you think there's something wrong with me, Daddy?" she clarifies.

"There's nothing wrong with you," he says automatically, arms tightening around her torso without thinking. It presses her even closer and he regrets doing it, immediately loosening his hold on her.

"There must be," she insists.

"What makes you think there's something wrong with you, baby?" he asks.

"Nobody wants to have s*x with me," she says.

He sees red. He swears under his breath and shuts his eyes for a moment, trying to push away the thoughts of her and s*x with someone else. "That can't be true," he says.

"It is," she sighs, like she's resigned herself to never having s*x with anyone. "They have these parties in uni where everyone just sorts of have s*x with everyone and I'm never invited."

Because he would kill anyone who thinks they could touch her without taking full responsibility. She sounds just a little bit disappointed and he tries to think about it from her perspective. "What about Sam?" he asks and flinches when her scent sours with disappointment.

"I never really clicked with him," she says. "He didn't make me feel safe. Not like you," she adds that last bit softly. Then, like a light-bulb going off in her brain, she asks, "Would you have s*x with me?"

He feels as though all the blood in his body has gone to his c**k. His wolf howls with joy. Yes, yes, yes. Mate. Claim. He chokes those back. "That's not- You can't ask that, darling," he says. He shouldn't have let her sleep in his bed the past few days. And he had been doing such a good job raising her prior to this too. He must have f****d up at some point, done something wrong to make her ask something so perverse.

"Why not?" she asks, looking completely innocent, clearly expecting him to answer.

"It's not- It's not something you do with family. Surely you know that," he says. She's studying to be a doctor. She's the top of her year. There is no way she doesn't know.

"You're not related to me by blood," she says softly, eyes wide, hopeful. "I'm adopted, Will," she reasons like he's the one being unreasonable.

A better man would tell her that it doesn't matter if they're related by blood. He practically raised her and he's in a position of power. He would be taking advantage of her.

"You've taught me everything else I know. Why not this?" she persists.

"This is different," he says.

"Please," she leans up until her breath fans his chin. She looks so perfect like this, offering herself up to him like some sort of virgin sacrifice- exactly like a virgin sacrifice.

He presses her back, hating himself.

He doesn't expect her to surge forward, refusing to be pushed aside so easily. He doesn't expect her to throw herself on him, pinning him down with the weight of her body, legs straddling his hips, the shirt she's wearing hiking up to her waist and showing him what he has been suspecting for the past several days. She's wearing nothing underneath.

His hands grasp her hips almost instinctively, worried that she would fall of he lets go. They used to play like this, when she was much, much younger. There's nothing innocent about the way she's leaning against his c**k, her opening wet with arousal even though he hasn't done anything at all.

The shirt stretches around her breasts and he can see through the thin material that her n*****s are pebbled and pink, just begging to be kisses, sucked, and fondled. His c**k twitches, growing harder still.

Her eyes glitter with unshed tears, mouth pursed in a lovely pout that he longs to kiss away. "Please," she whispers, leaning forward to press her lips to his. It's not like her usual kisses. She doesn't pull away, kissing him on the mouth, pushing past the fold of his lips and trying to lick inwards. It's wet and slick and she whines when she doesn't get her way straight away.

He really has spoiled her, giving her everything she wants. He knows he should put his foot down and deny her this. It is not proper- it will never be accepted in the eyes of society. She deserves someone better, someone who can take care of her and provide her a peaceful, happy life.