Of Daughters and Mates

Samson pulled his daughter against his chest as he emptied his balls into her for the second time in one morning. A high-pitched whine emerged from her throat, interrupted by gasps for breaths as she writhed against him. God, she felt so good against him, atop him, impaled on his dick. Even her weight pressing down on him was pleasant thanks to the soft padding covering her voluptuous body.

And the purity of her emotions burned bright in the back of Sam's mind. He knew she was right about their bond. Bekkah was a willing--no,

eager

--participant in this debauchery. The incandescent glow of her happiness and love for him banished the last shadow of doubt clinging to him. He was still upset at his wolf for forcing this change on both of them, but he couldn't deny the results anymore. She was his now. His and his wolf's.

As Bekkah's climax faded to aftershocks, Sam wrapped his arms around her and rolled over until she was beneath him. He propped himself up with his hands beside her shoulders and looked down at his mate.

Red arousal stained her cheeks and neck, wild strands of hair clung to her sweaty skin, and tears and drool dribbled down her face. Her breasts, huge and heavy, lay flat on her chest, compressed by their own weight. The muscles in her core shuddered and contracted in erratic bursts, setting her belly quivering. And there, between her soft, thick, wide-spread thighs, Bekkah's plump labia clung to his knot. They bulged obscenely around his oversized intruder.

"Daddy," he heard her whimper. Samson swept his gaze back up his little angel's body until he stared into eyes the color of a fertile field, flecked with green and gold. "I'm yours, Daddy."

"I know," he growled out through uncooperative lips. Speaking was arduous in this form, but for Bekkah, he didn't mind. He leaned down and nuzzled his nose against her neck. A soft squeal and a rippling, clenching spasm from her pussy answered his affectionate gesture.

Hmm, another sensitive spot, then

. "I love you. My daughter. My woman. My mate." Sam punctuated each claim with a nibble along her neck.

"Uh-huh," Bekkah murmured. A small hand pressed between Samson's canine ears, pulling his head tighter against her neck.

"We need to talk," he said, "but someone decided to take my knot to make her point."

"And eat," Sam's daughter reminded him. "Now that I'm less horny, my orders are kicking in. I'm not full." A ripple went through her pussy as she squeezed down on him. "Not my belly, anyway."

"Playin' with fire, girl."

The smile Bekkah sent him was pure and sweet even as her right leg hooked around his waist. "You'd never burn me. Anyway, why don't you shift back?"

"Can't," Sam grumbled. "Not without hurting you." It wasn't safe to change forms while having sex, even into his smaller human form. His dick would shrink, and his knot would vanish, but the rest of his body would change, too. With the change happening in an instant, there was too much risk.

"Oh." Her embarrassment tickled the back of his mind, but her skin was still flushed red from arousal and exertion, hiding her blush. "I didn't know, sorry."

"S'okay, darlin'."

"How long will we be, um, stuck?"

Sam's eyes wandered down to his daughter's heaving, sweaty, glorious bare bosom. "Quarter to never at this rate."

"Daddy!" Bekkah giggled and pushed against his shoulder.

"Half hour or so," he admitted. "Longer if you keep me riled up."

"Oh, sure, this is all my fault."

"Wasn't me givin' orders. Wasn't me ridin' you," Sam countered.

This time he was sure Bekkah blushed, the crimson color blooming bright on her cheeks. "I didn't hear you complaining," she said with a pout.

"And you won't. Girl, you're built for sex."

His wolf murmured agreement in the back of his head.

Finally, you admit it. You see what I saw last night.

Still not happy with you,

Sam snapped back.

You had no right to choose for Bekkah.

I had every right. She was already ours. The bonding was easy, quick. It took hours for Stalks-The-Hunter, remember, despite her asking for it. Soft-Like-Clouds accepted it before I'd even completed the second step.

The wolf's thoughts carried a tone of frustration.

She begged for me to bond her and breed her.

"Dad?" Bekkah's voice interrupted Samson's internal conversation. He realized he was letting his anger show.

That's post-facto justification

, he sent to his other self, then, aloud, said, "Not you, angel. Arguin' with the wolf."

"Over me?" She looked and felt sad at the thought.

"Because he didn't give us a choice."

"Dad?" Bekkah's voice was quiet. Tremulous. Uncertain. "If you could undo this, would you?"

Samson searched through his daughter's brown eyes, looking for the right answer. What happened was wrong. She was his flesh and blood. He raised her from a baby to a beautiful young woman, the last few years without the benefit of a partner. He shouldn't want her as a lover, let alone his mate.

But he did. The thought of a life without her at his side tore at his heart. There was a Rebekkah Jacobs-shaped hole in his soul now, and only she could fill it. He was hers as much as the reverse, though the chains wrapped around him were forged of love and devotion, not dominating magic.

"No," Sam said at last. The wolf sent him a jolt of righteous vindication. It paled compared to the surge of joy he felt from Bekkah. "You said you were gonna stay here even before all this?"

"Uh-huh." She reached up and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "There's always room for another vet out in the country like this, and Old Man Jones has to be getting ready to retire."

The reminder of his daughter's chosen career made Sam stifle a snort. How stereotypical for a werewolf's human daughter to go to veterinary school. "You talked to him yet?"

"Dad, I got here last night," Bekkah said with a tinkling laugh. "And I've been in bed with you for most of the time since then. No, I planned to take a few days to relax before driving into town and visiting the clinic."

"You don't have to work," he reminded her.

"I know, Dad, but I want to. I like helping people, and I love animals." The corners of her lips curled up in a teasing grin. "Besides, you'd never get any work done if I was around all the time."

"Truth." Tired of holding his weight up, Samson rolled the pair of them onto their sides.

Bekkah snuggled up close, molding herself to his chest and tucking her head under his chin. "You don't mind, do you?" she asked.

"Course not. Whatever makes you happy, angel." Sam tried to ignore his daughter's breasts' soft, supple pressure against his furred chest. They lay in silence for another few minutes before he spoke again. "We'll need to turn the guest bedroom into a nursery."

"Mm." Two hot lips pressed against his collarbone. "How long am I gonna be pregnant?" She'd never needed to know this end of living with a werewolf, so the question didn't surprise Sam.

"Forty-four weeks, give or take." Anticipating other possible inquiries, he added, "About even chance for twins or not. Maybe one in thirty for triplets. It's harder to catch the second time around." Bekkah was an only child not for lack of effort.

"Would you want another after this one?"

Sam snorted out a laugh. "Let's wait and see how many we get. You got three in you, they'll run us ragged."

"I want four," Bekkah murmured into his neck.

"Then four it'll be, God willing." The idea provoked mixed feelings in Samson. Children, even good-natured ones like Bekkah herself had been, were a lot of work. On the other hand, there was nothing in this world or the next as rewarding as watching a child grow up into a wonderful person.

And then there was the twisted, seductive lure of making more babies in his daughter. Four kids meant they'd need to get her pregnant at least once more. He had to shunt the thought aside--to his wolf's snickering laughter--to keep from stiffening inside Bekkah again. He was hungry too.

"We might need to move," he pointed out, as much to distract himself as anything else. "People know us around here. You livin' with me, havin' babies, not hard to figure it out. Would cause problems."

The young woman in Sam's arms stilled. "I'm sorry," she said. Guilt and sadness welled up from her.

"For what? Thought we went over this. You're mine, angel, and I'm not givin' you back." His snout wasn't made for kisses, so he nuzzled her hair instead.

Bekkah shook her head. "If I'd called ahead, none of this would've happened. You wouldn't have to move and leave everything behind because I was thoughtless."

"Nonsense. Nothin' to leave behind. Home is where the heart is, which means you." Love bubbled up through Bekkah's negative emotions. "I can work anywhere," Sam added. "And we have time. Can say you had a fling at college if anyone asks."

"Mm. We could. But I don't want to raise our children in a lie. I want them to know who their real father is."

Sam hugged Bekkah tight and nuzzled the top of her head some more. She needed a shower, but he drank in her scent nonetheless. "Then they will. We have time. I will start looking. Now, hold still," he told her.

He dropped his hands to her hips and, holding her steady, pulled away from her. There were a few seconds of resistance, then his mostly-deflated knot popped free from Bekkah's folds, followed by the rest of his dick. A moment later, he shifted back into his human form. "There," Samson said, "now we can go back to breakfast. I seem to have worked up a whole new appetite." Then he scooped her up into his arms and headed back to the kitchen. She giggled and snuggled against him, radiating happiness.

---

After breakfast, Sam and Bekkah parted ways for a while. He had work to do while she wanted to do some shopping in town. She didn't return until the sun started to dip below the treetops. "I'm home, Dad!" she called out as she pushed open the front door. "Can you bring in the groceries? I need to go change."

"Of course, darlin'," he said. "You don't need to change for me, though. I liked your dress." Sam emerged from the hallway to see his daughter disappear into the guest bedroom. The door clicked closed behind her.

"No peeking!" she called out to him.

Well, well, how interesting

, he thought to himself.

And encouraging.

If she was dressing for his eyes, then maybe he'd managed to instill a spark of self-confidence in Bekkah.

Soft-Like-Clouds is sure of her position now. Everything else will come with time

, his wolf said with an air of superior wisdom.

Like a fertile field, her mind drinks in our sun and rain. The ideas we plant will take root and grow strong.

Sam snorted.

What does a wolf know of fields and planting?

He gathered up an armful of grocery bags and carried them into the kitchen.

You forget. I watched you grow among the cotton fields and pecan groves

. No witty comeback came to mind, so Sam let the communication lapse into silence while he brought in and put away the truckload of food his daughter brought home.

It took a good half an hour to find space for everything. After the fifth bag of assorted vegetables and grains, Sam wondered if he'd made a mistake making Bekkah eat the same food he did. After all, with her doing the cooking, it was easy enough to turn his order on its head. At least she bought a lot of meat as well.

"How do I look, Dad?" Sam almost dropped the twenty-pound sack of brown rice in his hands at Bekkah's voice. He hadn't heard her open the bedroom door or walk down the hall. He placed the rice on the counter then turned to the kitchen door.

"Holy shit, angel," he blurted.

Rebekkah stood in the open doorway wearing a far different outfit from the ankle-length winter dress she'd done her shopping in. She had her hair in a thick braid pulled over her shoulder and dangling to her waist. A hint of makeup gave her cheeks more definition, made the specks of green and gold in her eyes even more attention-grabbing, and stained her lips a deep, rich red.

Around her neck, she wore a slim, silver latticework choker with a wolf's head clasp. Sam had no idea where she'd found it in such a short time. A cream-colored square-cut blouse showed a generous helping of Bekkah's heavy breasts and deep cleavage, helped all the more by a crimson sash cinched tight around her waist.

Bare skin peeked out from a slender gap between the blouse and a short, dark gray skirt. It covered only the bare minimum to preserve Bekkah's modesty and might not even do so much if she made a rapid turn. Despite her skirt's daring length, she didn't display much skin. A pair of long socks encased her legs all the way to mid-thigh. Completing the ensemble, Bekkah wore leather cowgirl boots dyed the same blue as his eyes.

Sam drank her in, his eyes darting from her upthrust breasts to her sinful red lips to her thighs bulging out from the tops of her socks. He hadn't seen her dress like this since her breasts started filling in. "That's not all," Bekkah said after a moment of silence. She gathered her skirt's hem in her fingers, then lifted it. Beneath, she wore panties made of such sheer lace they did nothing to hide the bare labia they clung to.

"Holy shit, angel," Sam repeated. "Did you... for me?"

"Uh-huh," Bekkah responded, still holding her skirt up. "I had to drive out to Fayetteville. You like?"

"Baby, it's all I can do to keep from bending you over the counter. God in Heaven, you look good enough to eat."

"What's stopping you?" Her hem crept higher, exposing the dark triangle of neatly-trimmed pubic hair pointing towards her treasure.

Sam's wolf surged forward, but he resisted the change. The moon was still close to full, and the sun was setting, so he couldn't hold out long. "Sheer willpower," he said through gritted teeth. "Angel, I'm going to have to let the wolf out soon. He has an apology to make to you, and I'll ride herd to keep him from doing anything you don't want."

"It's okay, Daddy," Bekkah said with a shake of her head. "I love Woofy too. He is you, and you are him, and I belong to both of you."

There was no way Samson could hold his wolf back after Bekkah's declaration.

Remember, you owe her an apology. Make her feel good and don't tear her clothes this time,

he admonished as his alter ego took over.

---

At last, Lives-In-Two-Worlds gave way and freed Moonbeam's-Shadow. Once more in control of their shared body, the immense wolf stalked toward his new mate. Soft-Like-Clouds spread her legs further apart as he approached. He could smell her arousal already. Good.

Moonshadow pressed his nose to Cloudsoft's thigh, then tasted her skin. Clean, sweet, a faint hint of salty sweat. A soft moan sounded above him as he redirected his attention to the cloth not-hiding her female parts from him. Humans always made things harder than they needed to be. Moonshadow understood how garments like this enhanced the experience for his other self, but they did nothing for him.

Showing Moonshadow's good judgment in mates, Cloudsoft reached down and tugged the obstructing cloth to the side. "Ooh, Woofy," she cooed when he took advantage of her offer. Her flavor was like he remembered from the night before. Thick, rich, a little sour, but with subtle, sweet undertones. He drank deep of her wetness, always more emerging from between her hairless lips to greet his lapping tongue.

"So good," Cloudsoft moaned as her flavor and scent grew stronger. A soft, feminine hand dug into the fur behind Moonshadow's ears, scratching and rubbing a spot she'd long ago found he enjoyed. With nothing holding it up, Cloudsoft's skirt draped over his brow, too short to hinder his work and thus ignored by them both. "Woofy," she asked, "can we move somewhere more comfortable?"

After two more lashes of his tongue to ensure Cloudsoft didn't think she was in charge, Moonshadow lowered his head and pushed past her into the hallway. The sound of her boots followed him into the master bedroom, then to the pile of soft furs he used as a bed.

"You want me naked, don't you, Woofy?" Cloudsoft asked. He tilted his head, examining her, then barked in approval. It took her mere moments to pull her shirt over her head, shrug out of her brassiere, and step out of her skirt and panties, leaving most of his mate's body bare to Moonshadow's eyes.

When she sat down among the furs to pull off her boots, Moonbeam's-Shadow decided he didn't want to wait any longer. The only thing she'd be doing with her legs was wrapping them around him. They could remain clothed. He pushed his head under her hands and forced her thighs apart.

"Woofy!" Cloudsoft protested with laughter in her voice. "Wait just a--ooh!" Her protest dissolved into a gasp of pleasure as Moonshadow used the entire length of his tongue to engulf her groin. Her hips rose off the floor, and both hands sank into his neck fur. "Oh, fuck, you're so good at this," she murmured.

Cloudsoft's legs rose and settled over Moonshadow's shoulders as he dug into the feast before him. His mate's words soon trailed off into aroused babbling. He tuned them out and focused on his task. Lives-In-Two-Worlds told him he had to apologize to Soft-Like-Clouds, so, even though he felt he did nothing wrong, he would bring her pleasure this way until she begged him to stop.

To Moonshadow's amusement, Soft-Like-Clouds responded well to the same methods Stalks-The-Hunter taught him. In particular, her hips wiggled and thrust against his tongue whenever he paid attention to her rear entrance. He wouldn't do more than this tonight, but it was something her reactions made him look forward to.

While teasing her butt made Cloudsoft wriggle and moan, she cried out in pleasure and clutched at his fur when he licked her labia and clit. For a while, Moonshadow allowed his mate to direct his actions, licking away at each spot she nudged his head toward. Then, he buried his snout against her opening and sent his tongue plunging inside to remind her how little control she had.

Cloudsoft's thighs squeezed tight around his neck. Her hips jerked forward, grinding against his nose, and her juices poured into his mouth, propelled by rippling, convulsing muscles. The loud cry of ecstasy confirmed what Moonbeam's-Shadow already knew as his mate's orgasm crashed into her.

Following instinct rather than years-old memory of his prior mate, Moonshadow didn't let up. He alternated between swirling his long tongue around Soft-Like-Cloud's now-prominent clitoris and slurping deep into her inner passage. Another gush of fluids and rapturous howl proved the value of his instincts.

Cloudsoft's hands grabbed at his head, pulling him tight against her groin, then flew away as her hips thrust up against him again. She was crying out to him now, repeating, "Woofy, Woofy!" as her climaxes crashed into and through each other. He sent smugness towards the other-self lurking over his metaphorical shoulder. Only one day in, and their mate was already barking like a dog for him.

"Oh, fuck, Moonshadow, please, oh fuck!" The use of a near-approximation of his proper name drew Moonbeam's-Shadow's attention back to Soft-Like-Clouds. Her body twisted and writhed under him, and now he realized she was trying to escape his tongue-lashing. "Woofy, please," she pled again.

Enough?

he asked Lives-In-Two-Worlds as he sat back on his haunches between Cloudsoft's wide-spread legs. To his surprise, it wasn't his human self who answered. As soon as she was free of his ravaging mouth, Cloudsoft rolled forward and grasped his wolfhood.

"Oh, Woofy," she panted into his ear, "I'm sorry for all the mean things I said last night. You're a good wolf." It was Moonshadow's turn to react with pleasure as his mate's hand pumped his hard shaft. "I love you, Moonbeam's-Shadow, and I want to thank you for making me your mate." Feminine fingers danced, seeking out the most sensitive places for her to touch. "If you hadn't taken me last night, I might never have found true happiness."