Bad Moon Rising

Chapter Two: Bad Moon Rising











Hey there little red riding hood…you sure are looking good…you’re everything that a big bad wolf could want….













The house was dark as Remus staggered down the long, crooked hallway. He bounced off of the walls, his hand still clutching a half drunk bottle of whiskey. He wasn’t certain what was worse, the pain of transformation or the agony of the wolf instinct tearing at him. He had never lived through a black moon before, it was worse than the books implied.







He had never felt so out of control in his life as he stumbled through the house, praying that the whiskey knocked him out soon. So far it had done little to dull the pain; in fact he suspected that it was exacerbating the affects. He growled deep in his chest, the urge to fight and fuck rising steadily as night deepened.







He stopped suddenly at the foot of the stairs, his nose twitching as he scented he air. His eyes narrowed as he followed the soft, sweet scent through the house, finding himself outside the library door. He pushed it open slowly and was assaulted with a wave of the heady scent, his cock hardening painfully. His eyes nearly glowing with lust, he crept inside, closing the door behind him.







She was lying on her side, a flannel throw wrapped around her legs and her hands tucked beneath her cheek. A forgotten book lying open on the floor in front of the sofa. It was hot in the room, suffocating in fact. He reached up and pulled at his collar, buttons tearing from the fabric with a snap of fragile thread. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips pursed slightly. Long dark hair curled around her shoulders and over the arm of the sofa, he had to ball his hands into fists to keep from walking over and touching the curling strands.







She was his weakness. That beautiful woman/girl who never let him feel too sorry for himself. She had been but a child when he met her and slowly he had watched her grow into a woman. She was just barely twenty-one yet she had more experience and wisdom than women more than twice her age. For more than a year he had desired her, had longed to take her to his bed and bind her to him, but he was not for her.







His buried desire for the witch was increasing the urge to mate and it didn’t help that he could scent how ripe she was for the taking. His breathing became deep and slow, each exhale a soft growl that had his lips curling. A fine sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. He needed to go but could not make his feet move. The wolf instinct was stirring restlessly within him, encouraging him to take what he wanted.







Slowly her eyes opened and she blinked twice, focusing on him. He looked strange standing in shadows, his eyes glowing slightly. She sat up, her brow furrowed as she pushed her hair back over her shoulder.





“Remus?” She called his name her voice laced with worry as she shoved the blanket off of her legs. “Remus, what’s wrong?” She asked, standing and revealing the cotton nightshirt that barely skimmed her knees.







“Don’t come near me.” He growled, his nails digging deep into his palm as he fought back the need to grab her, bend her over and take her. He wanted to flee but he couldn’t, his body wasn’t listening to his brain.







“What’s the matter with you?” He ignored his warning and came closer. With every step she took her scent became thicker, richer, more tempting. She stopped in front of him and reached up to lay her hand on his forehead. “Are you ill?”





“Don’t touch me!” He snarled, his erection was painful and his body ached with tension as he fought for control.





“Remus, what is going on? Why are you acting so strangely?” She was confused and worried about him. She loved Remus, deeply. She had loved him for years, a young girl’s crush on a teacher forming into the love of a woman for a man. But she knew he would never return her love so she kept it to herself, content to be his friend. He never raised his voice to her or avoided her touch, something wasn’t right.





“Hermione…run away…run away now!” He barked.







“Why? Remus, you are scaring me, tell me what’s wrong with you.” She reached up to wipe away the tears that were clinging to his lashes and he grabbed her wrist, his fingers tight and squeezing painfully. He bared his teeth, snarling as he brought her hand to the hard column of flesh straining against the front of his trousers.





“Because if you don’t run away I am going to take you, and it won’t be gentle.” He warned. She gasped, a tiny whimper sliding past her lips. She wasn’t the most experienced witch, a few heavy petting sessions over the years was the whole of her carnal knowledge aside from what she had read in books. But she knew that what she held in her hand was something impressive and she couldn’t resist giving him a squeeze. “That was a mistake.”





He dropped the bottle of whiskey, not caring that it spilled across the floor as he gathered the witch up in his arms and closed his lips over hers. She moaned into his mouth, startled at first. But slowly her stiff, resistant body relaxed and she began kissing him back, her hands coming up to rest on his shoulders, then slide around him to caress the back of his neck.





His lips, teeth and tongue were forceful as he pushed his way into her mouth, licking and biting at her sweetness, needing to taste her as fully as possible. He carried her to the sofa and laid her back on the cushions, rising off of her long enough to rid himself of his shirt. He cupped her breast through the thin cotton of her nightshirt, slowly circling the hardening peak with his thumb and watching it press against the material.







“Take it off.” He demanded, his rough voice sending shivers down her spine. She reached for the hem, crossing her arms over her body as she arched her back and pulled it up and over her head. She wasn’t sure what was happening, all she knew was that the man she loved was touching her, kissing her, he wanted her. “Perfect.” He said sliding his arm beneath her and arching her up before attacking her nipples with his tongue. He licked and sucked at the tight peaks, his tongue curling around them again and again as she writhed and moaned. Her hands pressed to the back of his head, holding him closer, silently pleading with him for more of the incredible pleasure.







He left her breasts, dragging his tongue down the center of her torso, licking at the little dip of her belly button before moving lower. He quickly removed the impediment of her knickers and pushed her thighs open as wide as they would go. He leaned forward, bumping her clit with his nose and breathing deeply of her sweet, musky scent before taking a long, slow swipe with his tongue from dripping entrance to burgeoning clit.







She cried out sharply, the sensation so intense that her first instinct was to move away from it but he held her down as his tongue wiggled between the tightly closed lips of her sex and played with the bud of her clit. She bucked, shrieked and shuddered as he feasted between her legs, lapping at the tender flesh until her hands were tearing at his hair and she was screaming in orgasm, her pussy throbbing against his lips.





He continued to lick at her as she came down; fumbling one handed with his trousers until he finally got them open and shoved them and his boxers down below his hips, freeing his erection. He slid his fingers against her, gathering up the slick remains of her orgasm and the rubbed them over the head of his cock, lubricating it before pressing against her opening.







“My witch.” He growled, pushing his hips forward fast and hard, tearing through the little bit of skin protecting her vagina. He howled as he pushed deep within the tight, resistant flesh of her body. She cried out in pain, her nails biting into his back as she was penetrated for the first time.







“Remus!” She cried his name as the burning pressure inside her brought tears to her eyes. He bent his head and with the pointed tip of his tongue he licked away the salty tears.







“Just hold on while I make you mine.” He whispered, urging her legs up and around his narrow hips. He braced his hands on the arm of the sofa and began to slide in and out of her body slowly, carefully as he waited for her to adjust and get used to the feel of him. She began to relax gradually and soon she was moving against him with little counter thrusts of her own, her nails scoring his back lightly. “That’s it…move with me…show me how much you want me.” He whispered roughly. “Mine…mine…mine…” He began to chant as he started to pick up the pace and thrust into her with more force, the sofa rocking and creaking beneath them as he laid into her. “Going to come….going to come so deep inside you that you will never be free of me.” He threw his head back and howled as orgasm crashed over him. He shook with the intensity of it as he spilled into her again and again, giving her everything he had and more as she stroked his back gently, soothingly.







She wasn’t sure what had happened, or why. He had been rather rough and it had hurt more than she imagined it would. She couldn’t help but wonder what brought him to her, what made him decide to take her. As he relaxed against her, his face tucked into the side of her throat she realized she didn’t care, she was just happy to be in his arms.







***Opening lyric from Little Red Riding Hood by Sam the Sham and the Pharoahs