I wrench my wrists free with a strength born of adrenaline and make a dash for the storage room door. My fingers fumble with the handle for a heart-stopping second before it gives way, and I burst into the main library space.
The sudden transition from the dim storage room to the brighter library momentarily blinds me. I blink rapidly, my naked body feeling doubly exposed in the open space. My eyes adjust quickly enough to spot Damon and Max lounging in leather armchairs near the central reading area, deep in conversation. They look up at my sudden entrance, their expressions shifting from surprise to amused interest.
“Help! He won’t stop tickling me,” I scream.
Damon’s mouth quirks up at one corner, and Max’s eyebrows rose with interest. Neither moves to intervene as I hear the storage room door slam open behind me. Gunnar’s heavy footfalls give me an estimated three seconds before he’ll be upon me.
I dart to the right, weaving between tables stacked with research materials.
My bare feet make a little sound on the polished hardwood floor, but my breathing sounds thunderous in my ears. Behind me, Gunnar’s pursuit is unhurried but deliberate—the confident pace of a predator who knows his prey has nowhere to go.
My pussy clenches from my heat, begging me to go back to him and just let him knot me.
This chase is making me even more horny.
“You can run all you want, little omega,” his voice calls out, echoing among the high ceilings and book-lined walls. “But we both know where this ends.”
I risk a glance back as I round a large reference desk. Gunnar stalks after me, his movements fluid and purposeful. His muscled torso gleamed with a light sheen of sweat. The sight sends a treacherous jolt of desire through me.
My eyes dart to Damon and Max again as I pass near their position. Max is openly grinning now while Damon watches with hooded eyes, an amused smile on his lips.
“Enjoying the show?” I snap at them as I dash past.
“Immensely,” Damon replies, his deep voice tinged with humor. “It’s not often we see Gunnar work this hard for anything.”
“She’s making him earn it,” Max chuckles. “And she looks so cute running around with cum all over her thighs.”
Their casual banter infuriates me, but I don’t have time to dwell on it.
Omegas like me are small, and we don’t have a chance against an alpha’s hunting instinct, but we’re fast. I hear Gunnar gaining ground behind me, and I push myself faster, rounding a corner and darting into the maze of tall bookshelves.
I take a left amongst the shelves, then a right, hoping to lose Gunnar in the labyrinth. My heart hammers against my ribs, my breath coming in sharp gasps that burn my lungs.
The chase should terrify me. It should make me feel hunted and violated. Instead, with each step, I feel a growing, insistent throb between my thighs.
My nipples have hardened to sensitive peaks, and I’m mortifyingly aware of the slick coating of my inner thighs.
I slow my pace, trying to quiet my breathing. Perhaps if I stay still, hidden among the shadows, Gunnar will pass me by. I press my back against a shelf, feeling the cool wood against my heated skin.
The library has gone eerily quiet.
I can no longer hear Gunnar’s footsteps or the murmured conversation of Damon and Max in the distance. All I can hear is my heart pounding and the soft rasp of my breathing.
Minutes tick by, or perhaps only seconds. Gradually, I begin to relax, wondering if I’ve managed to evade Gunnar.
That’s when I hear a low, harsh panting behind me.
Not human breathing. Something deeper, more guttural. The sound freezes me mid-step, a chill racing down my spine despite the heat of my skin.
The far end of the aisle is shrouded in shadow, but within that darkness, two golden eyes gleam like coins. As my vision adjusts, the outline of a massive wolf takes shape—its shoulders easily reaching the height of my waist, its powerful body blocking the entire width of the aisle.
Gunnar.
I’ve never seen any of the pack members in their wolf forms before. The transformation is both magnificent and terrifying. His fur is a rich, dark blonde, almost bronze, where the dim light catches it. The powerful muscles beneath his fur ripple as he takes a step toward me, then another.
My eyes widen as my gaze travels from his muscular wolf form down to what hangs prominently between his hind legs- his erection, fully extended from its sheath.
It’s shockingly large, an angry purple-red against his fur, with a prominent knot at the base that makes my inner walls clench involuntarily at the sight.
He’s been wanting to knot my ass. Fuck. Fuck.
I back away instinctively, my hands dropping to brace against the shelves on either side of me.
“Oh my god,” I whisper as he advances toward me. In wolf form, his presence is even more overwhelming than it was as a man—pure predator, pure alpha. His muzzle parts slightly, revealing sharp teeth as his tongue lolls out, tasting the air thick with my omega scent.
I continue backing up until I feel the solid presence of another bookshelf behind me.
I’m cornered now, trapped between shelves on three sides and a massive, aroused wolf on the fourth. My breathing comes in short, panicked bursts as reality settles over me.
He shifted. He actually shifted to chase me.
The primitive display of dominance should repel me, but instead, it speaks to something equally primitive in my omega nature. The fear coursing through me mixes with my intense horniness, my body responding to his cock with another rush of slick between my thighs.
Gunnar’s nostrils flare, picking up the scent of my arousal as he growls.
I press myself harder against the bookshelf at my back, feeling the edges of books dig into my skin.
“Gunnar,” I whisper, finding my voice at last. “What are you doing?”
The wolf’s only response is another step forward, his hot breath washing over my bare stomach. Even though his eyes are animalistic in shape, his gaze holds human intelligence and alpha desire.
This isn’t a mindless beast. Gunnar is fully aware and in control, choosing to approach me in this form.
My legs tremble, partly from the exertion of the chase and partly from the conflicting emotions warring within me.
I should be horrified. I should be screaming for help.
The wolf’s tongue darts out, tasting the air again. His eyes travel down my naked body, lingering on my breasts, my stomach, and my pussy, where I know my arousal is seeping like crazy. His erection seems to swell even larger under my gaze, the knot at its base thickening visibly.
“No way,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. ‘This can’t be happening.’
But it is happening.
The wolf before me is real, and his intentions are clear. I can’t deny the answering call of my body, the omega instinct that recognizes and responds to the alpha before me, regardless of his form.
He closes the final distance between us, his massive form now mere inches from my naked body. His fur brushes against my thighs, warm and surprisingly soft against my skin.
A scream tears from my throat as Gunnar lunges forward, his powerful body a blur of motion. Before I can react, his weight knocks me backward.
Books tumble from nearby shelves. I’m lying on my back, breathless and waiting.
For a moment, fear is the only thing I can process—primal, instinctive fear of the predator looming over me. Gunnar stands above me, his golden wolf eyes gleaming with triumph, his massive paws planted on either side of my shoulders.
‘Gunnar,’ I gasp, my voice barely audible even to my own ears. ‘Please—’
Then he shifts his weight and moves backward, repositioning himself over my body. His snout nudges insistently at my knees, pushing them apart with casual strength.
“What are you…?” I gasp when I realize what he’s about to do. “Gunnar, no, you can’t…”
But he can, and he does.
With my legs now splayed open beneath him, he lowers his massive head between my thighs. I feel the first hot brush of his breath against my pussy folds, and my entire body jerks in response. My hands fly down reflexively to push his head away, fingers sinking into the thick fur of his neck.
The first touch of his tongue nearly launches me off the floor.
It’s nothing like a normal tongue. This is broader, rougher, and impossibly hot against my sensitive flesh. It drags from my entrance to my clit in one long, deliberate stroke that makes me shiver.
“Oh god!” I cry out breathlessly as my back arches involuntarily. My fingers tighten in his fur when I’m about to push him away.
I want more. I need more.
Gunnar makes that pleased rumbling sound again, the vibration of it traveling through his tongue and into my core. Then he laps at me repeatedly. The rough texture of his wolf tongue catches against my sensitive flesh in ways a human tongue never could, stimulating nerve endings I didn’t even know existed.
My head falls back against the hard library floor as my eyes roll back.
The sensations are too intense and too overwhelming to process. Each swipe of his tongue sends fresh jolts of pleasure through my entire pussy. The forbidden aspect of it, of being pleasured by an alpha in his wolf form, flickers briefly through my mind.
He adjusts his position, his massive forelegs now straddling my thighs, keeping me pinned beneath him. I hold my breath as he lowers his head again, licking around pussy as more slick seeps out.
His tongue changes tactics, no longer making broad strokes but focusing on my entrance. I feel it press against me, shockingly large and insistent, then push inside.
I cry out at the stretching sensation, my hands now pulling him closer rather than pushing him away.
“Gunnar,” I moan, his name. His name is the only coherent thought I can form as his tongue thrusts in and out of me, stretching me in ways that seem impossible. Each withdrawal drags against my sensitive inner walls, and each penetration pushes deeper than before.
The sounds coming from between my legs are obscene—wet, squelching noises that echo in the quiet library.
My cheeks burn with humiliation even as my hips rise to meet each thrust of his tongue. I’m soaking wet now, slick gushing from me in copious amounts and dripping down to the pool beneath me on the hardwood floor.
Distantly, I wonder if Damon and Max can hear us from their position in the main reading area. The thought should mortify me, but instead sends another thrill of forbidden excitement through my core.
Gunnar’s tongue withdraws suddenly, leaving me empty and aching.
Before I can protest the loss, he laps at my clit instead—quick, precise strokes that immediately send me rocketing toward the edge of orgasm. My thighs begin to tremble uncontrollably, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps.
“Yes,” I pant as he massages my clit with his tongue. “Yes! There, please don’t stop.”
He doesn’t stop.
His tongue works me relentlessly, each stroke building my pleasure higher and higher. He slows down when I’m so near. It’s like he knows exactly how close I am, exactly what I need, and is deliberately withholding it, prolonging my sweet agony for his enjoyment.
“Oh my moons,” I gasp, my hands tightening in his fur.
His golden eyes watch me from above his muzzle, alight with intelligence and satisfaction as he observes my complete surrender to his ministrations. There’s something incredibly vulnerable about being watched so intently while experiencing such intense pleasure.
Slurp. Slurp. Slurp.
His tongue laps at my clit as my pussy walls throb and flutter. I’m so close. I need something inside me. I need to be filled and stretched and claimed.
“Gunnar, please!”
As if he understands exactly what I need, his tongue plunges back inside me, deeper than before, while his nose nudges against my clit. The dual stimulation is my undoing. The orgasm hits me like no tomorrow, my back arching off the floor, a broken cry tearing from my throat as pleasure radiates outward from my core to the very tips of my fingers and toes.
But Gunnar doesn’t stop. Even as I convulse around his tongue, he continues lapping at my pussy, drinking every drop of slick as I tremble beneath him.
Through the haze of ecstasy, I become aware of a new sensation—an emptiness, a desperate need to be filled more than his tongue can manage. My heat, which had been partially satisfied by Max and Damon, roars back to life with renewed intensity, demanding more.
Demanding his knot.
I catch glimpses of his erection between his hind legs as he shifts position—angry purple-red, glistening at the tip, the knot at its base swollen to an intimidating size. The sight of it sends another rush of slick from my core, my body preparing itself instinctively.
“Your knot,” I hear myself say, the words emerging without conscious thought. “I want your knot. I need it so badly.”
Gunnar’s tongue gives me one final, thorough lick before withdrawing completely. He repositions himself, moving up my body until his massive wolf head is level with mine.
“Please,” I whisper, reaching up to touch his muzzle, feeling the wetness of my arousal on his fur. ‘I need you. All of you.”
Instead, he backs away suddenly, creating space between us. I make a sound of protest, my body aching at the loss of his warmth and weight.
I push myself onto my elbows, watching in confusion as Gunnar paces a few steps away.
“Don’t leave,” I plead.
The air around him seems to suddenly shimmer.
His form blurs, shifts, and changes in a way my eyes can’t quite follow. One moment, a wolf stands before me; the next, Gunnar, in his human form, kneels on the library floor, naked and gloriously aroused, his eyes still holding that golden glow from his wolf aspect.
“If you want my knot, little omega,” he says, his voice rough with desire, “you’ll get it. But not as a wolf.” His hand drops to his erection, fingers wrapping around its impressive length. “I want to hear you scream and hold you in my arms when I fill you up.”
