Hunting The Alpha Wolf (Dark Paranormal Romance (Erotic Horror, Erotika)) (10 page)

I need time to create a
new identity, one which I can use to regain some of my life. Until then I
believe that I am a direct threat to your safety.

That I cannot stand.

Sara, go back to
London, find your own life, think about what we could mean to each other.
Examine your feelings, reflect on what has happened to both of us. But make no
mistake when it is safe to do so I will find you.

I leave it up to you if
at that point you want to restart our relationship, or we can go our separate
ways.

But, if you reject me,
know that it will break what is left of my heart.

Yours

Constantine

Four months later

"
Would you like a
dance?" Sara asked, leaning over the fat man so her could peer down her
dress. She held the position just long enough to tease him, but not long enough
for him to see more than he should.

More than he should
without paying for it anyway.

He smiled and said,
"No thanks." Sara smiled back, "Maybe later," she said.
She'd learned long ago not to take it personally. It was no reflection on her
that a fat businessman from Norfolk would rather have some other woman take her
clothes of for him. After all it was his money not hers.

She straightened out
the tight red dress she was wearing, chosen for two reasons, first because it
matched the minuscule knickers and bra set she was wearing, and second because
with one quick movement she could undo the zip and it would fall smoothly,
quickly but sexily to the floor.

She had to wiggle her
hips slightly to get it to fall down, a move which always scored a few more
points with the punters.

Sara worked her way
through the crowd, the normal mix of off duty business people, works outings
and loners who just liked to look at naked girls.

Walking past one
individual, a tall thin, bald man, she got the now familiar tingle down her
neck. Her encounter with Constantine had left her with a little more than just
soreness and an expanded world view.

In addition to a strong
feeling of horniness, and a wanton randyness that was indecent at times, and in
the last four months completely unsatisfied, she now could tell, occasionally
at least, when there was a paranormal entity nearby.

Their presence sent a
cold chill down her back, and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
The bald man, she realised as she smiled at him, was not altogether human.

The tingling was not
reliable, but she was shocked at how often it happened.

Mr Patel, the owner of
the local curry house she frequented, well she was sure now that he was a
vampire.

Dr Greenwood, her ex
dentist, was some sort of demon, which would explain his chosen career perhaps,
and the reason he was now her ex dentist.

The owner of the lap
dancing club caused the strongest of responses, it was almost electric, almost
like touching a live wire. Chrystal, the owner, was a werewolf, Sara was sure
of it.

Sara sashayed over to
the bar, it would be her turn on the podium soon and she wanted to see if she
could get a dance from any of the new arrivals before she had to dance for free
for everyone.

Since returning to
London she had found it difficult, no impossible to get steady employment. The
opportunities for freelance writing jobs had dried up. Which was a shame,
because she was sitting on the biggest story in the history of the world.

It was a shame that the
only paper that would publish it was the Fortran times. She knew that to even
try to explain what had happened to her would end whatever career she might
sometime hope to get.

So, during the day she
worked in a cafe, and in the evenings she danced. She didn't mind the work, it
paid well and she had developed a whole different attitude to it of late.

Since Constantine,
she'd not had sex with another man. No man seemed to be able to turn her on,
she hoped it would wear of, but she suspected that he'd spoiled her for anyone
else. The one time she had kissed another man, there was just no electricity,
no passion, he had felt nothing. He didn't have Constantine’s wonderful body
either, so she just didn’t see the point in following it through.

So she'd thrown herself
into her work. She put more into her dancing, put more sexiness into her moves
and so earned more than she ever had before. She found that accidentally
brushing her nipple across a guy’s mouth, moving her thigh just a little too
close to his cheek and running her mouth across his zipper all got her the
repeat dances that turned a profitable evening into a highly profitable
evening.

She knew that she was
pushing the limit of acceptability, of decency, of legality in fact, but she
didn't care. At least the relationship between dancer and client was an honest
one. They paid her to take her clothes off and to excite them, and she
delivered, in spades.

There was no deceit, no
pretence, just raw wanton titillation.

She smiled at the
barman who passed her a Champaign glass full of sparkling water with a dash of
lime. It looked like almost Champaign and in the darkness of the club no one
would notice. She had learned when she'd started dancing not to mix drink and
work.

No one liked a drunk,
stumbling lap dance.

"Can I have a
dance please?" a voice in her ear, whispering, far to close, far to
intimate, she leaned away slightly in response. The breath smelt clean and
manly, and she could feel the heat from his body behind her. The sound sent a
twinge down her back, centred between her legs and she leaned back, breathing
deeply, drawing his scent deep into her lungs.

"A private dance
or a public dance?" she asked.

"What's the
difference?" Constantine said, sipping from a bottle of Budweiser. She
watched a drop of condensation touch his lips, and wanted nothing more than to
lick it off.

"Well," Sara
said turning towards him, smiling at the way he glanced down her top at her
beasts beneath the red material.

"If," she
continued, "you want a public dance, we'll do it at one of the tables.
It's £10 per dance and its topless only."

"Topless
only," he said.

"Topless only, and
no touching."

"I don't think
that will do for me no, what's a private dance?"

"Well then I take
you to a private room, and you pay by the hour. It will just be you and me,
unless you want one or more of the other girls to join us, which will cost you
more. In a private dance, well anything goes, but still no touching."

"I'll go for the
private dance," he smiled, it was a nice smile. Sara saw he looked good, a
clean white shirt, black tie and black suit, he looked smart and handsome,
completely and utterly fuckable, she thought.

Sara reached out and
grabbed his tie wrapping it round her fingers, stroking the silk.

"Do you want one
of the other girls to join in? Destiny is a fantastic dancer, and she has
lovely tits," she pointed to a black girl in a long white dress who smiled
at them.

"No," he
said, "I think it should just be the two of us."

"Ok. Mr," she
smiled, biting her lip and running her hands up his tie, "My names Star,
what’s yours?"

"Oh, it's
Colin."

"Colin?"

"Colin," he
smiled, "it was the best I could think off."

"Perhaps we should
work on your imagination big boy."

Sara sat Constantine
down on the sofa in the private room. She put his hands firmly on either side
of his legs and spread his knees so she could more easily dance between them.

"Now Colin,"
she said, "remember no touching, you just sit still, relax and enjoy
yourself."

The music changed to
'Slave to Love' by Roxy Music and Sara started to dance in for him.

She started swaying
slowly to the music, running her hands up and down her body, pressing the thin
material of her dress into her skin so that it moulded to her body. Her left
hand ran through her hair and she turned slowly on the spot sliding her right
hand across her arse. She bent over slightly so the cloth stretched over her
buttocks emphasising her curves nicely.

Lifting the dress
slightly, she swished it around, so that he got a tantalising glimpse of bear
flesh and silky red knickers.

Constantine watch transfixed
as she turned back to facing him, leant over, pulled his tie down and breathed
gently in his ear. Slowly moving her mouth down his body, not touching, she
lowered herself down until she knelt between his legs.

She looked up at him,
he was starting down her dress, so she slipped one hand inside and caressed her
own nipple. She was careful to tease him, so that he only saw just a hint of
pink aureole.

The she held his gaze
and slowly ran her forefinger in and out of her mouth before leaning down and
blowing gently on his groin.

It was with no small
amount of satisfaction that she saw his cock twitch in response. She continued
to look up at him, running her finger in and out of her mouth, until  his
trousers were stretching, barely constraining his erection.

Leaning back, aching
her back  so she was pushing the peaks of her breasts towards him she knelt at
his feet and leaned backwards. Sara lifted her skirt so he got the briefest
flash of her knickers, then she ran her fingers up her leg and across the front
of her silken folds.

Sporting a full
erection now, spots of damp cum staining his trousers, Constantine watched
transfixed.

She looked fantastic.
He felt the urge to run his fingers over her body and he moved his arms
forwards.

 "No touching
mate, house rule," she said, waggling her finger at him.

Standing now, she
reached behind her back and flicked the zip of her dress, with a twitch of her
hips it fell to the floor and she kicked it away with her feet.

Constantine longed to
touch her breasts encased as they were in a tiny, flimsy red bra, or run his
mouth between her legs caressing the soft flesh through the red silk.

Instead he did as he
was told as she moved in time to the music slowly seductively he sat still,
with a superhuman effort of will he restrained himself. Sara grinned, she was
enjoying this immensely.

"Just because you
can’t touch me, doesn’t mean that I can’t touch you," she said, leaning
over him and unzipping his fly deftly. She reached in and freed his penis from
his trousers, it was hot and silky, and when she breathed gently across the tip
it throbbed in response

"Nice,' she said,
and turned around still swaying, unclasped her bra and slipped her knickers
down bending as she did so. Constantine saw her perfectly shaped buttocks; she was
almost presenting herself to him.

Turning she slowly
walked up to him and first with one leg then the other she straddled him on the
sofa. "No touching," she breathed rubbing her nipple across his lips,
hearing him gasp with desire.

"No
touching," she repeated as she reached down, grasped his cock, and lowered
herself on to it.

Constantine almost came
straight away as he felt her feminine warmth envelop him.

"No
touching?" he asked.

"Absolutely
not," she said, putting her arms around his neck and grinding hard against
him. She gyrated up and down, and twisted slightly as she did so, perfectly in
time to Brian Ferry’s crooning voice until she felt him pulse inside her. As
she felt him ejaculate, she let herself go, she let herself climax.

She pressed his head to
her breasts, pushing hard as she writhed on top of him drawing every ounce of
sperm from his throbbing, thrusting manhood.

"Thank you
Colin," she said, giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek and disengaging
herself. She reached down, grabbed his damp penis in her hand and pushed it
back into his trousers. Then she stood and retrieved her clothes.

A minute later she was
dressed and as decent as she ever got in her profession.

"No thank you
Sara," he said, looking not a little flushed.

"That will be £40
please," she said grinning, holding out her hand.

Constantine, surprised,
reached into his jacket and got two twenties out. Sara grinned again walked
forwards and lifted her skirt, pushing herself towards him. Constantine rolled
up the money and slid it down the waistband of her knickers.

It slid neatly between
her cleft, and she shivered.

She lowered her dress, and
sat next to him draping her legs over his.

"£40 for all
that?' he asked.

"Don't be stupid
Constantine," she laughed. "The £40 was for the dancing, which I am
pleased to say is my one last ever, no more lap dancing for me. The fuck, well
that was free of course, and was for you and you alone, and can be yours as
often and for as long as you want."