Thread: Like Father, Like Daughter [Feral.Desires X Cereus]

It had been difficult enough just to walk down the hallway to Diana's room, the scent of her body, ripe, and ready, had definitely grown stronger, advertising her readiness for a mate, even though it was not something she consciously realized. It was obvious to Antony, even before he raised his hand to rap lightly against her darkened door that she had responded to his own scent, and the pheromones that her body produced in response would force him to remain close...very close to his daughter. He couldn't at that point, even if he'd wanted to, leave her side. The flip side of that coin....the beast that rumbled and growled from deep within his chest, wouldn't allow Diana to leave his side either. It didn't matter to him that Diana was his daughter. She was a she-wolf in heat, and Antony responded. He was as much a prisoner of biology as was she, and the taboo's that humans clung too would not prevent him from mating with the lovely young bitch, nor would they prevent Diana from offering herself to her father. Humans, in Antony's opinion, the dominant species on the planet, offered his species advantages by hiding openly within their society. He held a job. He'd attended college, he had many degrees....the first he'd earned just before the outbreak of the U.S. civil war, he provided for his family. But he was not human, and avoided, mostly, preying on them to protect the secrecy of his existence. All those old black and white movies, creepy stories, about full moons, and garlic....or silver.... or whatever substance drove off werewolves, had a kernel of truth at their core. Silver was mildly irritating against the skin, though internally...like a silver bullet...could prove fatal in rare cases, but was otherwise at most, a nuisance. The moon's phases guided the transformation of newly adult werewolves, when they were most dangerous to their host species....hence the basement he'd built for Diana. But to a fully mature werewolf, who could transform at will, day or night, and was practically immune to most of what humans might marshal against him, demonstrated both a weakness on their part, and a strength on the part of his own kind. His real name wasn't even Antony Corelli. That was a name he'd taken from a bridge worker that had died in an industrial accident in Manhattan in 1916. His birth name was Canopus, that much he did know...which led him to believe that he'd originated from somewhere south of the equator, and other than that, the exact date, and place of his own birth was a mystery to him. Werewolves didn't dwell on such things, and in time, Diana too would forget the circumstances of her early life. But for now....she was in heat, and he would have her. Daughter or not, her body called to him, and as she opened her door...with a look on her pretty face that suggested she was on the verge of telling him off yet again, he knew she was aroused. He could smell it on her, and see...her nipples were hard, pressing against the thin fabric of her tank top, her face flushed, and even the loose fitting black shorts she wore, pantiless, were wet. He was staring at the birth of an alpha she-wolf, and was unable to do more than that, until she made the first move...slipping one arm around his waist, the other reaching up around his neck, pulling him down, as she stood on the tips of her toes, pressing her parted lips against his, molding her nubile body against his in a most un-daughterly like way. Enveloped in her scent, her body pressed against his, and struggle as he might against it, he felt the familiar shift of his vertebrae, as he hungrily met her offered kiss...exploring her parted lips with his tongue, tasting her, for the first time, his thick muscular arms enfolding her, his hands exploring, down the sinuous curves of her back, and over the round firm swell of her bottom, squeezing, spreading, low whimpered growls boiling up from within the depths of his chest. Without even having to bend over, he scooped Diana up in his arms, never breaking his kiss with her, teasing the tip of his tongue in hungry wet circles around her own, and as his eyes changed, turning a dusky orange gold, carried his wolf-bride toward the living room.