Teen Wolf Step-Brother
by Pan
Epilogue:
Maybe it was just a natural womanly thing—you’re intimate with someone for long enough, certain feelings begin to arise. Maybe it was something to do with the wolf inside of him, or hell—maybe I’m just a freak.
But after six months of Brandon and I being pretty much inseparable at the genitals, I realised that I needed more. I wanted to be owned by him—I mean, I was owned by him, but I wanted something more thorough, more permanent. I wanted to be marked by him—I wanted to show the world that I was his, and he was mine, and that nothing could possibly tear us apart.
And so I stopped taking my birth control.
When Mom had realized there was nothing she could do to keep me and Brandon apart, she’d made an appointment, gotten me on the pill, and made sure that I’d taken it. And I had—diligently. I needed the pleasure that only my wolf brother could give me, but I wasn’t stupid—I didn’t want to be a knocked-up teenager, carrying a baby through the final year of high school.
At least, back then I didn’t. But something about the image got into my head, and suddenly it was all I could think about. I wanted to be bred, bred by my step-brother. I wanted to carry his wolf children—I wanted to be part of his pack, serve at his feet, his pregnant obedient teenaged slut.
I didn’t tell him what I was doing—he would have felt guilty, or rationalized me out of it.
But when I slipped into his room, about a week after I stopped taking the pill, that was it. That was the night. I felt it in my bones. When he slipped inside of me, all I could think about was how I’d look soon enough, swollen-bellied and full-breasted.
I couldn’t wait.