The Werewolf Order (Erotica)

NEW STORY TITLE: THE HEALER (EROTICA)

A Coral Blackthorn erotic tale.

Enjoy…

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Coral idly walks along the trees, following a bumblebee that crashed into her several feet back. She traces the creature’s zig zag across the path, before it finally settles on a plant, landing on a plume of soft pink flowers. The bee’s weight makes the plume sag, causing it to bob as it clings onto the blossom upside down, to collect the plant’s pollen. She waits until the bee has had its fill and moves on, before she kneels down and pushes aside the encroaching plants. Carefully, with gloved hands and a knife, she harvests several of the comfrey’s inner leaves, dropping them into the overflowing basket from her journey so far. The large leaves cover the assortment of flowers, plants and roots that she has gathered on her morning walk, alone in the forest.

She hears loud footsteps behind her, turning to see a tall, slender young man. His long brown hair is slicked back, gathered into a neatly at the base of his neck. His smoothly shaven, handsome face and crisp clean clothes lend well to the air of confidence he exudes. Meeting her gaze, he gives her a brilliant smile.

“Good morning, Coral,” his deep voice speaks to her.

Coral sets her knife in her basket, rising from her crouch. She presents a slight curtsey, lowering her eyes while she responds, “Good morning, Tobias, sir.”NôvelDrama.Org © 2024.

His soft but firm hand reaches out, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze, “You know that you do not have to curtsey to me, Coral. I’ve told you as much, many times before.”

She smiles and shrugs, “It is only proper, sir.”

He shakes his head at her, “And I’ve also insisted on you calling me Tobias.” He slowly moves in closer to her.

Coral, shy with her modesty, turns her head away from him, taking a step back, but he continues to advance on her until she feels her back pressed firmly against a tree. Her heart starts beating quicker as he comes nearer, much closer than he should. She tenses, unsure what to do; automatically her hands rise up to rest on his chest, attempting to hold him at bay. She refrains from shoving him away from her, but instead tries to casually push him back. It doesn’t work.

“You are beautiful, Coral,” his voice purrs to her.

She dares to look up and meet his gaze; his eyes wander over her face, down her neck, and to the exposed tops of her breasts, the plump curves rising and falling quickly as she struggles to maintain her calm.

Tobias has made it clear for the past few months that he desires to have her. She has thwarted his advances so far; being the son of the Governor, she knows that he always gets what he wants from whomever he wants it from. Like his father, he has bedded many women and while most of them didn’t want it, none of them were in a position to refuse.

“Thank you, Tobias,” she manages to breathe out, “but I should really be getting home. Piers is expecting me.”

She tries to slide out from under him, but his hand lands firmly on her hip, holding her in place. He starts to pull the fabric of her dress up; her knees almost buckle in terror.

“He can wait. At the Celebration, you will receive your garland, will you not?”

As he pulls the last of her skirt up, Coral can feel the cool, morning air hit the hot skin of her thighs. Desperately, she tries to push the bunched up fabric back down but his left hand holds it in place. Coral draws in a sharp breath when she feels his right hand graze the top of her thigh. Large, intent fingers creep against her skin, before teasingly flickering at the hair over her mound.

Her heart pounds fiercely; no man has ever touched her legs let alone her cunt. As he strokes the soft, fluffy hair she experiences a feeling new to her; she feels her womanhood tighten inside and a wetness seep out from within.

Tobias rests his forehead against hers, whispering softly, “With your garland, you will finally be able to receive offers of marriage. I am sure that my intent has been clear, you will be my wife. I will have you for my own.” He tilts his head forward mashing his lips to hers. While doing so, his fingers press forward, parting her cunt lips to firmly stroke her clit.

Coral feels her legs tremble, her uncontrolled moan is muffled against his mouth. Though she doesn’t know what he is doing to her, her body responds; she kisses him back needily. His fingers slide back and forth over her clit, wet with her excitement. Slowly, he eases his hand lower, sliding half of his middle finger inside of her tight cunt, before the resistance of her hymen encircling it stops him from going further.

She trembles as he pushes and pulls the finger out of her; it feels so good, she wants more, but she doesn’t know why. Or what more would entail.

He takes her hand and slides it down his chest, past his waist until she feels her fingers brush something firm against his crotch. Embarrassed, she tries to pull her hand back but he holds it there, forcing her fingers to feel the length of his cock through his pants.

“There is no question that you will belong to me,” he breathes heavily, his cock pulsing against her hand, “so there is no reason for us to wait until then.”

Coral manages to pull her hand free, turning her head to get away from him, “I… I don’t know anything about that.”

Rubbing her clit faster, he makes her legs shake. Tobias knows that he has made her want it, but her modesty still controls her. He breathes into her ear, his voice thick with want, “I know plenty about it for the both of us.”

Her heart beats so fast, she doesn’t think she can breathe. What he is doing to her, the way he touches her womanhood has made her weak, made her lust for him in a way she hasn’t felt before. She wants it, but she knows that if she freely gives away her first time before marriage, before she has the guarantee of Tobias being her husband, she runs the risk of him changing his mind. No longer a virgin, she wouldn’t be as appealing to another man. As she is already orphaned and indebted to her guardian Piers, she has no prospects for herself, save her maidenhood.

Tobias’s free hand grasps her breast, kneading the tender flesh through the fabric of her bodice. Emboldened by his hold over her, he dares to press two half fingers into her wet cunt, attempting to prepare it for the entry of his cock.

Coral moans, feeling her opening stretch to accommodate the second finger, yet still so tight that she has no idea how anything more would fit. She doesn’t want to refuse him, but she knows that she must. Gathering up her courage, she reaches down and pushes his hand away from her body, sliding out from him in one swift movement. She stumbles free, leaving him leaning against the tree. Coral rushes to grab her basket and walks swiftly down the path.

She can hear him groaning behind her, “Coral, I will have you.”

Turning around to face him, she continues to walk backwards, “After we are married, I will have no reason to refuse you. You will simply have to wait until then. Good day, sir.”

She almost runs the entire way home. Forcing her legs to move quickly, the air into her lungs and the harsh beating of her heart helps to quell whatever fire Tobias set inside of her. When she reaches the small house, Piers walks towards the barn with a bucket of water.

“Come help me, child,” he grumbles.

“Right away,” she calls, entering the small house to set her basket down.

Assisting Piers with the chores helps the rest of the morning fly by, giving her little time to think about Tobias touching her. When they finally break for lunch, Coral busies herself with cutting up the bread and meat, placing them on two dented metal plates for her and Piers. She hands the old man one, pouring fresh water into his wooden mug. Normally, they don’t talk much, but today he grumbles at her after a few bites.

“Did I ever tell you I was there when you were born?” His aging face looks distant.

Coral watches him, waiting.

“It was mid summer. Your father had come to help me repair the pasture fences, and your mother-oh, her belly was so big-she couldn’t stand the temperature inside. She came too, and was going for a swim in the river to cool off. Out you popped, right into the water. Good thing your mum was a quick woman, or you would have been swept away with the current. Your dad and I heard your screams and came running; there you were, naked and wet, christened into being. Aye,” he says, turning to her, “I guess that means you are already past your eighteenth day of birth. But you won’t receive your garland of flowers until the Celebration. No doubt some young lad will make you an offer of marriage the same night. I’ve seen a way a few of them look at you. Don’t feel obligated to answer them right away, but let all of them that wish it make a proposal, then you will be able to choose the one you want the most.”

She shifts uncomfortably, Piers having never broached anything fatherly in subject with her before. When she came to him crying several years ago, because she was bleeding from between her legs, he simply left the house. He sent one of the older women in the village to come explain to her what was happening, and he didn’t return until well after nightfall. They never talked about it again.

Coral lost her father when she was only three years old; she thinks that she has memories of him, but she can never visualize his face. Many of the men his age died as well, either during the great Battle or shortly afterwards from their wounds. Her mother, belly full with a final gift from her deceased husband, died while trying to give birth to Coral’s brother. With most of the men dead and buried, crops burned as punishment and little for the remaining families to survive on, there were none who wanted to take her in. Piers had come to collect her family’s sheep to add to his own flock and found her snuggled up to a ram for warmth. She is not sure why he did it, but he took the sheep as well as her, and has raised her since. He never pretended to be her father; he never babied her or coddled her but taught her more as an apprentice, a protege. Regardless, she is forever grateful to him for his kindness, besides the fact that he says he did it just to have an extra pair of hands for chores.