Simmie Learns What Is and Was

Note: Sorry it's been a bit longer than I had intended since my last chapter in this story. I hope you all enjoy this one as well as you did the previous ones. Again, sorry for the shortness of the chapters, but I find that keeps you on your toes (or it does me, at least. : )~ )

Simmie moaned and stretched as she woke to Gil's mouth paying homage to her nipples as his hands worked their way down her body.

"Good God, Gil, don't you ever get enough?" she asked teasingly. He rewarded her with a chuckle and a quick bite to the nipple he was lavishing. Her body may have been tender and sore in spots from his loving, but she wanted more. Quickly rolling him over, she straddled him, grasping his hard cock in her hands and stroking him lightly. She teasingly slid the head of it along her moistness. Back and forth, from her clit to the opening he was desperately seeking, she teased. She slid to where the head of his engorged cock was barely inside of her.

He would thrust his hips upward, trying to grab her hips and bring her down upon him, but she was too fast for him. Repeatedly she teased him, just sinking down onto his rampant staff long enough for him to get a good feel, and retreat.

"You are enjoying this entirely too much. Apparently, I've failed to teach you that I am the head of the pack in this family. Now, let's see who the beggar is." In one thrust, Gil was buried to the hilt inside her.

"Oh GOD Gil!" was all she could muster before he started pumping into her with a fury that teetered on scaring. Never slowing his pace, Gil pumped into Simmie like he was a man on fire. Simmie felt the now familiar tightening and coiling heat in her body as Gil fucked her. Moaning, panting, and whimpering, Simmie rode back against him and ground her hips as far back as she could, feeling the last bit of her control shatter. "Gil!!!!! Oh Gil!" was all her scrambled mind could manage before she fell face first into the bed, still being battered by the waves of her orgasm and Gil's pounding.

She felt him swell and before she could make note of the changes in his body and the noises he was making, she felt the knot at the entrance to her pussy again. Pushing, trying to get in as she heard him howl out his release with one last thrust and the engorged knot was lodged inside her once more as Gil emptied his seed. Gil's enlarged frame was bearing down on her, holding her in place as she felt his cock continue to pulse inside of her battered pussy.

"Gil, honey, please." She panted, trying to catch her breath. As he tried to move, she remember the knot, she could handle it as long as he didn't move, "just stay there. At least until the knot goes down, I can't handle the pain from that thing pulling out of me."

He just grunted and she lay there, remembering his warning of not to look at him while he was changed. Slowly, his body started morphing back to the Gil she knows and loves. Loves? It's a little soon for that, surely!

"Hiya Toots, miss me? Nah, it ain't too soon for love. You've known him your entire life, kiddo." Simmie rolled her eyes, of all the times for the voice to come back. Simmie's thoughts were interrupted as Gil slid off and out of her, sitting on the bed beside her.

"Oh my God, Simmie. Honey, I didn't mean to go crazy like that. I told you, when you tease me like that you unleash the beast like nobody else can. Did I hurt you?" Rubbing her back, he looked so concerned and scared that she couldn't bear to tell him that she felt like she'd been rode hard and put away wet

"No Gil. I'm fine, honest. I just learned a valuable lesson though." Trying to shrug it off, she sat up and felt her tummy muscles protesting. "Although, if you continue with the beastie treatment, you may very well be answering to "Daddy" pretty soon." As she said the last, she felt a yearning she hadn't felt before. What would it be like to carry his children, to feel that life moving inside of her? Better yet, what would their children look like?

A few hours later, Simmie found herself wondering yet again what it would be like to have Gil's children growing inside of her. Would they be able to shape shift inside of her, and dear Lord, would she have a litter or just one? Panicking, she went in search of Gil to ask. Looking all over the keep for him, she couldn't find him, so she searched the stables. Nothing. Where could he be?

"Toots, I think you need to check the fields." The Voice again. "Call me crazy, but I have a feeling." Simmie went in search of Brunhilde just on the off chance that she'd seen Gil.

"Nope, Brunhilde not seen Master Geel een few hours. I deed hear de stable hand talking to heem earlier today though. They vere goink to check de nort voods und fields for strays sometime." As always, trying to follow what Brunhilde was saying was like trying to see through mud.

"Toots, I know he said not to go there, but if you think something's wrong, and you feel it, then you need to go make sure." The Voice was just as vocal as ever.

Simmie ran out to the stables, made one quick walk through to ensure that the stable boy and the manager weren't there, and quickly saddled Beelzebub. "C'mon boy, I need your help. I know you don't like the north woods and fields either, but we gotta find Gil." She rubbed him down as she tightened the saddle strap one more time just to make sure it wasn't going to slip. Hauling herself into the saddle, she kicked Beelzebub into a run. "Please, God, please, let Gil be okay." She repeated the entire way to the fields.

What she found when she got there was enough to scare her to death. Gil was lying on the edge of the woods right inside the field, and the stable manager and the stable boy were both torn to shreds, bleeding, and barely breathing. Gil was in the form of a wolf with a large wound to his hindquarters that looked like something had tried its best to rip his legs off. Jumping down from the stallion, she ran to check on the manager and boy.

"Simmie! Get out of here!" Gil told her telepathically. "Go to the keep; get all of the clansmen you can from the fields and from the keep. Tell them to hurry, and that the Darks are coming back. Don't come back with them, lock every door and window to the keep and let NOBODY in. I will let you know when I am near so you can let us in."

"Gil, I'm not leaving you, I won't!" She helped the stable manager sit his horse, and got the stable boy up across his lap. Then she told Gil "I need you to help me with your weight. I can carry you across my lap but I need you to help me get you onto the horse."

Turning to Beelzebub, she told him "Buddy, I know you don't like wolves, and I know you know there's something in the woods, and it's getting closer. I need you to help me get Gil back home though, will you help me?" He nickered and tossed his head but leaned into her neck and nuzzled her, giving his consent to help. Gil panted and drug himself over to the horse, which amazingly, knelt down for the injured wolf to get onto his back. Simmie, near tears, swung into the saddle, and kicked Beelzebub into a dead heat back to the keep. She felt sick; a terrible nagging pain racked her from her lower back down to her heels.

"Gil, something's wrong with me." She tried telling him with her mind, the wolf whined on her lap.

She heard "I know baby, its ok. It was a ghost of pain for me. Sympathy pains, if you will. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to leave my thoughts open like that." As suddenly as the pain had come, it left.

Reaching the keep, they passed the stables and ran straight up to the front door. Simmie jumped off of the stallion, threw the door open and started yelling for help. Soon, the entire clan was on the front steps, helping the wounded inside.

After the initial chaos had died down, Gil and the other two had been cleaned, fed, and stabilized. Guards were posted at the entrances to the keep, and patrols were established for the grounds. Simmie sat at Gil's side, watching his breathing. He may still be in wolf form, but that didn't mean he wasn't her Gil, and she didn't love him. It's amazing what a few hours and nearly losing someone can do to your perspective.