Wafflish

Beast of Bodmin Moor 35

The Beast of Bodmin Moor

 

 

Jake

 

“S’okay…you can open them again now,” Jake assured Phin, who’d cringed from the glare of the overhead lights, his eyes screwed shut.

Fuck. How the hell was Phin supposed to handle all that was heading his way, full beam bright? His senses were too acute for his own comfort before being skyrocketed into supernatural territory. Having ever been plagued by too much input, how the bejeezus could he cope when too much exceeded human capacity? If only that was the worst of it. Phin had spent a lifetime trying to reign himself in to appease people and patently believed he’d failed. So how would he feel when faced with razor sharp instincts too intense to repress? Responses that would be less suppressible than those he’d already been saddled with. ‘Excessive’ had been Phin’s baseline. Before.

Those charged with whittling away his excesses were about to find themselves in for a bloody shock. Not least when their efforts sure as shit hadn’t derived a jot of job satisfaction to date. A task that would shortly seem on par with a stroll in the park, compared to the polar trek they would all-too soon encounter. 

Unless…Was it possible that supersenses could come as less of a shock to a system already under siege from too much? Was Phin better equipped than most to withstand an extreme upgrade? Or… would the addition of shape-shifter acuity make Phin’s jackal self more…feral than Jack? Less controllable. Would Phin be forced to endure being Too Much Jackal on top of everything else? Fuck.

Jack was no help whatsoever; he was flat out with a daft expression on his furry face, tongue lolling in a far too self-satisfied fashion. For all the world as if he’d spent the night sniffing nefarious substances.

A state Jake couldn’t, in all fairness, begrudge him. The kitchen was drenched in a deranging cocktail of scents so thick it made walking more akin to wading through a pea-souper. Of sex. So potent, it was impossible to breathe without inhaling a lungful of lust laden air. Phin had smelled too alluring to resist from halfway across the moors…he was an opium den on (ludicrous) legs now.

Standing this close, barely a breath apart, Jake could scarce refrain from…doing exactly what Phin then did; launched himself into the space separating them. His full body weight slammed against Jake like a wrecking ball and down he went; standing firm would have impacted on Phin as if he’d been catapulted into a brick wall. Until Jake knew for sure that Phin’s resilience had been enhanced alongside his (further) heightened senses Jake wasn’t about to risk impact fractures by staying on his feet for no reason other than he could.

Jake landed flat on his back on the tiled floor with a bone-jarring crash, crushed beneath a Phin who sure as hell felt less fragile. A Phin whose frantic efforts to disrobe Jake were hampered by being plastered across his body. After finally managing to wrench the fleecy fabric aside, Phin swooped with a low growl; a sound he’d never come close to making before. The mouth he smudged across Jake’s chest was as hot, hungry as his raw cinnamon scent, now suffused with cassia bark. Stronger, more potent, yet retaining the essence that was essentially Phin. 

Jake’s heartbeat skittered, sped beneath the lips Phin clamped to a nipple, dragging a groan from the pit of Jake’s guts with teeth perfectly poised at the point of pleasure-pain.

“Phin…fuck…” Jake gasped when his hips snapped upwards, too desperate for friction to remain static beneath the heavy press of feverish flesh pinning them to the floor. A surge that sent Phin slithering backwards until he was crouched between Jake’s thighs. When he began to trail tentative fingertips along Jake’s cock, there was no need to lift his head to read Phin’s reaction to his new improved view on the world. Now narrowed to, focused intently on, the iridescent sheen of Jake’s cock. The scent that assailed his nostrils was every bit as vivid as visuals.

Jake couldn’t help but hold his breath, despite being (almost) sure that Phin was not about to start on supper but… Jake was rather fond of it, and pups were partial to chewing on whatever took their fancy. The rifle-shot gasp that ripped free was twin toned relief when Jake found himself engulfed in one fell swoop. Phin froze, aside from the guttural groan that crawled up in his throat—and along Jake’s length—when his taste-buds erupted in a riot of sensation. Those doe-a-deer-in-the-headlight eyes sure as hell flared wide enough to swallow Jake whole without any assistance whatsoever.  When Phin began to drag his head back, it was with a flattened tongue and lust-glazed gaze that were truly too much to endure. Too much for Jack to tolerate with Jake flat on his back at the mercy of his…mate.

“Grrrrrh…” The growl that tore free was damn near feral when Jake threw his body weight to the side, rolling Phin onto his back and reclaiming his rightful spot, astride everlasting thighs.

“So beautiful…” Phin, quite unperturbed by their abrupt role reversal, simply lifted his arm to hover quivering fingertips a few inches from Jake’s face. The scent of his skin was so intoxicating Jake clamped a hand around his wrist to brush his nose across its tender inner skin. Jake’s lids slid shut upon inhaling a lungful of cassis infused Phin, confirming what they already knew. Jake could smell himself; stronger, richer now, with husky mace and nutmeg base notes. Their scent—not on Phin’s skin—beneath the surface, suffusing his own.

“Mine…” Jake affirmed, darting out his tongue to taste their twinned scents, staking his claim. But not emphatically enough. Jake sprang to his feet and scooped Phin into his arms before whisking him into the front room, which was closest. The rug was sheepskin, which would do, although they would rather be outside. Beneath a rustling canopy of leaves…the air redolent with the richness of earth… lavish limbs gleaming ivory against the lush green of the grass. Tomorrow. For now, the soft tufts of wool would suffice…Phin certainly seemed content to be lowered onto it like the sacred gift he was.

“Fuck, look at you…” Jake heard himself mutter while gazing down at the lustrous lines of his body, the fluid ripple of lean muscle as he nestled into soft fur, a beatific smile on his upturned face. Unearthly beautiful. Caressed by the shady softness of night-sight, the pearlescent gleam of porcelain was mesmerizing. Every inch as captivating as  Phin himself…and all theirs.

 

***

 

Phin

 

Finding himself sandwiched between fluffy fur and hard heat was a contrast more delectable than hot fudge sauce drizzled over ice-cream. A delicacy that left Phin cold, compared to his craving for Jake. He had no other appetite, for neither air nor nourishment; all he wanted was Jake, filling him up, making him whole, forever. Making him His. For Phin wasn’t convinced there was a ‘theirs’. Not in any way that counted; not to instincts that had long since proved uncannily accurate. Despite Phin’s lack of care for consequences and tendency to do forgetting stuff that ‘mattered’ most. They even smelled the same; Jack’s scent might be stronger, but it didn’t differ in essence. Fur or no.

Phin buried his hands in the lush tumble of Jake’s hair, relishing the slither of silken strands that slipped through his fingers. When that magical mouth did crushing to his own, Phin’s lips melted to the plush contours of Jake’s, his breath a life force in itself. It felt as if he intended to do devouring all Phin was, even as Jake did giving more than he took.  Phin was starting to suspect they could spend forever trying to do slaking an unquenchable thirst.

When Jake did pulling away, it was to ensnare Phin with a gaze that shimmered untold shades of azure. Eyes that did drinking him in, as thirsty as his kisses. It felt akin to being nailed to the rug by blue…what was Jake looking for? Phin just hoped he could see it, because he never wanted Jake to do searching somewhere else.

“Are you afraid?” Jake asked, all of a sudden, for no reason Phin could do discerning. 

“Nope, I’m starving…”

“Fuck, I never fed you…” Jake groaned, a husky purr of sound that did shivering across Phin’s skin.

“I want you to do filling me up, not feeding me,” Phin informed him. He p’raps did a spot of hinting too; tilting his hips Jake-wards to do spurring him on. A gravelly growl rumbled in his throat when the scoundrel shifted himself so sharpish, Phin found himself flipped onto his front in a flurry of movement too fast to track. He hadn’t even begun to get his bearings when he was hoisted up by the waist and his bum was hosting a very frisky visitor. 

“Jake!” Phin may have done shrieking—a smidge—it was all too quick to do keeping up. A hot, moist shock to his system so sublime it made his entire self fizzle as if Jake was waving a sparkler about up there. His tongue was doing a flicker-flutter with the fury of hummingbird wings. If it was possible to do combusting with bliss, then Phin would have been smithereens splattered across Jake’s furry rug. It might’ve been a tad daft to think so, but it still felt feasible, all the same. “PLEASE!!” He almost shattered his own eardrums t’boot, which was a wee bit unseemly, but it was all too much more than Phin could do bearing without blowing up.

Jack whipped his tongue free and did gripping Phin’s hips with a fingers so firmand a focus so intenthe didn’t think a tractor could have done dragging him away. A fortuitous thing indeed while hovering on the brink of a moment so sublime Phin would have longed to stay suspended there forever. If he hadn’t craved its fullfilment more than life itself. Or something such. A very excessive lot.  

Grappling hooks of anticipation did gripping his guts when the heavy press of Jake’s cock nudged the core of Phin’s very self. The racket that did ripping from his lips alongside the snap of Jake’s scintillating spine was so steeped in raw lust, it sounded fit for rutting in the forest rather than on a fluffy rug. Phin couldn’t have done stopping it if the rest of forever depended on doing so.

“Jaacckkhh!”  It was a tad startling, but blimey o’riley… the bliss that sandblasted his brain and blitzed his body was unbearable without giving voice to it. It demanded a presence, which was, quite possibly the most doolally thought that had ever done flitting through Phin’s head. Ah well…at least that hadn’t insisted on airing itself too.

It was rush of ecstasy so intense it did snatching his breath away….and quite clearly the last of his marbles. Phin wasn’t entirely sure he did surviving it. He certainly didn’t care. It was akin to hurtling into a hurricane of white heat. Or being engulfed in a fiery furnace; all consuming, inescapable, devouring…and yet, Phin never felt more…safe, sure, complete.

The need was a press too immense to do comprehending…and yet, his body understood. It was necessary.  Nothing had ever done mattering this much; the craving for Jake to do filling him up in every way.

“Fuuck…hang on.” Jake did dragging in a ragged breath and held it; every muscle taut, quivering with a desire so desperate Phin could do tasting it. Having never had a snack quite so luscious, he couldn’t do discerning its flavour…p’raps steak glazed in maple-syrup and flame-grilled in absinthe. Something as darkly rich as molten molasses and so delectable, decadent, he’d go stark raving bonkers if he so much as snuffled it.

“Sorry. Toomuch,” Jake gasped.

“S’okay…Jake?”

Jake…” There was still strain in the single syllable, but Jake’s husky voice did sound less trembly. The sunshine musk of his scent grew stronger, overriding the sudden sharp hot stink of fox-y that had overpowered it. Phin was now thinking in Hughes-isms; theirs was a realm where the prosaic had no place. 

“See, I did remembering. Jaake.” His elongated ‘a’ rifled the air as a sigh of satisfaction. “Now can you please do fucking me?”

Jake? Answered with his hips. Emphatically. Excessive belonged to a world far from this. After (almost) withdrawing with one smooth, swift ebb of motion, Jake surged forth and buried himself in Phin’s body as if to do imprinting on his very bones. His head rocked back and his spine did arching to drive Jake deeper still; he wanted more, needed more… His whole self was ablaze with it; it was like trying to see through a wall of flame. Phin couldn’t think or feel around it…he just wanted Jake to take him as hard and fast as he was holding back. Again.

All the incessant clamourings of Phin’s mind may as well have been whipped away on the wind; he’d never felt so free, so entirely flesh and bone and blood. It was akin to stumbling from a blizzard into a world as pure and untainted as sunlight dancing off fresh snow. A world where there was no too much. Phin could never have ’nuff Jake.

“Gnrr…Phin…” That velvety voice was syrup poured over his skin when Jake did rolling his hips with a foxy finesse no human spine could pull off.

“Hmmm…more…” Phin’s wanton hussy aspirations were p’raps progressing apace. His own spine sure seemed to be indulging itself in some antics Phin hadn’t known it was capable of. But then…his body had never met Jake before, so it probably hadn’t done bothering.

It was as if, deep down, his most secret self had done waiting, muddling along as best it could. Knowing that only one soul could ever do soothing the scratchy. Or fill the hollow ache that was his heart. Knowing…that it would do waiting for Him. Forever. 

 

***

2 thoughts on “Beast of Bodmin Moor 35

  1. Awwwwww – even more heart-melt! There is so much in this scene to adore my brain is going to have to read it two or three times over to absorb all the lush description and that glorious sense you’ve infused it with of Phin getting his ‘release’ – although I know on the surface and throughout the veneer of the tale is that the release/ freedom to be themself is Ja/ke/ck but here more than anywhere else it feels like Phin’s too – it seems like the Jackal for him has a potential to be a permission to ‘be’ and ‘feel’ and shrug off the chains (rather than as for Jake it was a new strange thing to restrain and keep a lid on) And this gorgeous line is going to stick in my brain all day: “p’raps steak glazed in maple-syrup and flame-grilled in absinthe. Something as darkly rich as molten molasses” … mmm… 🥰

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Awww…thank you! Oh I’m deelighted you found so much to like🥰 I always worry that I haven’t written a jot of note…just waffled a lot of nonsense😳 I’m so happy that the effect of all this on Phin feels significant to the story too. I’ve oft felt that some peeps would be lots happier/comfier if born to a different time/era/species. Just like being born in a body that feels all wrong.
      it seems like the Jackal for him has a potential to be a permission to ‘be’ and ‘feel’ and shrug off the chains
      🥰❤️ Thissss❤️.🥰
      Aw…thank you. Yay, I’m so glad it sounded as luscious as I hoped.😻😁

      Liked by 1 person

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