Alexandra Vance. the Beast’s Attraction.
Copyright© 2026 by Virael de la Fer
Chapter 12: Summing Up
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 12: Summing Up - She just wanted a drive to clear her head. Instead, she hit a wolf on a lonely forest road — and made the mistake of getting out of the car. He wasn't an ordinary wolf. And nothing in her life was ever ordinary again. A sensual paranormal romance about desire, danger, and falling for something wild.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Coercion Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Fairy Tale Mystery Paranormal Were animal Sharing Humiliation Rough Gang Bang Group Sex Orgy Polygamy/Polyamory Double Penetration Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Voyeurism AI Generated
I got to my feet, feeling a pleasant, post-orgasm lassitude wash over me after such a hormonal explosion. But I couldn’t let Alex think he’d won some absolute victory—not when my knees let out an audible crack as I stood, and I caught his self-satisfied grin at the noise. Shaking my head, I looked into his misty, pleased, amused amber eyes, then mischievously bit my lower lip and gave him a playful push that sent him tumbling back into his chair.
“Just to keep you on your toes,” I winked, as a cunning, cruel, thoroughly feminine plan for revenge took shape in my mind. “By the way, you taste good.”
“Got someone to compare me to?” Alex asked immediately, smirking lazily. There was that typical male possessiveness in his voice, and he was clearly hoping to embarrass me or make me justify myself.
Hah. Naive grey wolf. He’d have to try a hell of a lot harder to make me blush. Compared to Jess, and especially my little sister Lexa, he was a rank amateur when it came to frankness. Those two could come out with things that left me speechless. And while I’d long since gotten used to Jess’s antics, I still couldn’t figure out where my quiet, seemingly modest Lexa had picked up such a habit.
“Yes, I have,” I answered with absolute calm, stepping back and sitting across from him at arm’s length. Sitting any closer felt risky—I was still aroused, even after the orgasm. At least this way there was some distance between us. “And if you think, Alex, that at my age I’ll blush over what’s happened in my bed before you, then I’m afraid we won’t be a pair for very long.”
Alex’s smile vanished instantly, and his gaze became sharply attentive—dangerously so. My words had pricked his ego, and that was exactly what I’d intended. I still remembered his possessive look after the shower, but I’m a free spirit. And if anyone’s getting put on a leash, it’s definitely not going to be me.
“But this conversation isn’t about me,” I continued. “I’ve still got far too many questions for you. And judging by how you keep dodging my questions, I’ll have to set some new rules. You don’t get to touch me until you’ve answered every last one of them. Understood, sweetheart?”
To seal the deal and finally rob the wolf of his last shreds of common sense, I spread my bare legs slightly, bent one knee, pressing my foot against the chair leg, and slowly, defiantly, holding his gaze, traced the tip of my finger along my wet, still-pulsing folds.
A deafening silence fell over the kitchen, so complete that I could hear the air conditioner dripping outside the window.
Alex froze. I could physically see his nostrils flare, while heavy cords of muscle shifted beneath the skin of his neck and shoulders and his fingers clenched into fists once again. A quiet, warning growl rumbled from his chest, more like the vibration of an idling engine than anything human. My deliberate provocation had hit his animal instincts head-on: the female was teasing him, but at the same time denying him what he wanted. Tough luck. He’d had his pleasure, I’d had mine, and there was no reason he needed to know that I was still perfectly capable of wanting more. Besides, he’d already ruined my table with those claws of his.
“You’re playing with fire, Sasha,” he said very quietly, almost beneath his breath, without taking his darkened gaze from my fingers. “My self-control isn’t made of iron. Werewolves aren’t very good at holding back for that long.”
“Then you’ll have to learn, Grim.” I licked my own taste from my fingertip, making him swallow convulsively, then pointed that finger at him. “Right. First question. Do you actually meet human women very often?”
Alex exhaled heavily and forced himself to put his hands behind his back, presumably so he wouldn’t lose control and drag me off the table.
“Are you asking specifically about sex?” His voice was rough.
“I’m asking about your social structure and methods of information ... transmission.” I lazily slid my finger a little higher along my thigh, watching his reaction. Psychology had hardly been the priority subject on our veterinary and animal science course, but we’d studied the basics of behavioural analysis and ecology thoroughly enough. And right now, I was putting that knowledge into practice, deliberately subjecting a dominant male to the stress of being unable to act on his immediate impulses. Mild frustration tended to make them considerably more forthcoming.
“Quite often, Sasha,” he replied, fixing his eyes firmly on my face, although I could see exactly how much effort it was taking him not to let his gaze drop below my collarbones. “But usually it’s a one-night thing. Finding a partner among humans is bloody easy for us, in principle. How do I explain it...? You may have felt it yourself. We’re physically attractive to them on a level they don’t consciously understand. A werewolf’s body constantly releases certain pheromones — a biological marker of dominance, if you like. Ordinary women respond to it instinctively. Put bluntly, they almost never say no to us. It works the same way with the she-wolves in a pack, by the way.”
I made a mental note: High-intensity pheromonal profile. Suppression of the will in human subjects.
My finger drifted lower again, barely brushing against sensitive flesh, and I let out a quiet breath myself. Alex jerked, but remained exactly where he was.
“Interesting,” I murmured. “And how does it work among your own kind? You say changing partners isn’t a problem. But what about families? Do you have anything resembling human marriage? Fidelity?”
“We have families,” he said with a nod, his nostrils flaring predatorily as they caught the strengthening scent of my arousal. “But we don’t have anything like a formal union with paperwork, a stamp and a registry office. And within a pack family, other partners aren’t forbidden. You have to understand, werewolves have children bloody rarely. Fertility is our biggest problem. Nature has arranged things so that the strongest among us — dominant alphas — have a much better chance of passing on their genes. Our Alpha, for example, already has three cubs. And they’re all by different mothers.”
My finger stopped for a moment. The vet in me gave an understanding nod. Pure natural selection, optimising the survival of the population. But on a purely human level, something cold twisted inside me. Our supposedly civilised monogamy was beginning to creak under the pressure of this primitive form of polygamy. I imagined what it would be like to share a man with someone else, and an instinctive, angry pride flared inside me. No. Absolutely not. I was far too selfish to share my territory. Even in theory.
Then I remembered something from our earlier conversation.
“Wait. What about what you said earlier about exile and...” I faltered, because even saying the word hurt. “ ... the death of women if conception is so rare?”
Alex’s answer left me utterly stunned.
“They physically wouldn’t be able to carry a wolf.”
I froze, trying to process the boy’s last words, and even stopped touching myself. Seeing my confusion, Gray sighed and began to explain.
“I’m not a biologist, and I’m certainly no Rick, who’d probably be able to explain it properly. But without going into too much detail, even if we put the pregnancy itself aside, a human girl physically can’t carry the foetus to term. The cub would simply drain her, killing both itself and its mother. The chances of a successful pregnancy are less than one per cent. And even then, only if the mother is over seventeen and is physically, mentally and emotionally strong to begin with. The best age for carrying a cub is considered to be around twenty-two or twenty-three, when the wolf and human forms are more evenly balanced.”
I nodded, accepting the explanation. Thinking about it, it was actually quite simple once you broke it down into its component parts. With us humans, it was almost the same, although a child normally didn’t kill its mother. Which was exactly what I asked him.
“Why does the child kill the mother?”
The lad looked at me and scratched the back of his head.
“I told you, I’m not a biologist. Apparently, it’s because our females are carrying something like both a human child and the beast at the same time. It’s difficult to explain, Sasha. I don’t understand much of it myself.”
“Can’t you have an abortion, for God’s sake?” I exclaimed.
The lad shook his head again.
“No. I don’t know why or how; that’s connected to our beast form too. But an abortion isn’t possible. Apparently, by doing that, you lose the wolf form as well, which is basically equivalent to killing it. Just stretched out over time, for the mother.”
I froze for a moment, wanting to light up, but I resisted the urge and went back to what I’d been doing. I lowered my hand and began slowly stroking my clitoris—not for arousal, but simply to ponder the guy’s words and figure out what else I wanted to know. Some might find my behaviour strange, but I didn’t see anything unusual in it. Everyone has their own habits, their own way of thinking. Some twist their hair around a finger, some bite their nails. For me, I think best like this—slowly stroking my clitoris and letting the growing arousal build inside me. And Lexa seems to have the same habit, because I’ve noticed a few times that when she’s deep in thought, she rests her hand on her crotch.
“Interesting,” I drew out. “And how do things stand among your own kind? You say you change partners without difficulty. What about families? Do you have anything analogous to human marriage, fidelity? And also, who is Rick?”
“We do have families,” Alex nodded, and his nostrils flared predatorily, catching the strengthening scent of my arousal. “But there’s no formal union with paperwork, stamps, or registry. And in a pack family, other partners aren’t taboo. You understand, werewolves have children very rarely. Birth rate is our main problem. Nature has arranged it so that the strongest of us—the dominant alphas—have much higher chances of continuing the line. For example, our pack leader already has three pups. All from different mothers. And Rick is my half-brother—same mother, different fathers.”
My finger froze for a moment. My inner medic nodded in understanding—pure natural selection for population survival. But on a purely human level, a cold stab ran through me. Our civilised monogamy was creaking under the pressure of this primitive polygamy. I imagined what it would be like—to share a man with someone else—and a dull, angry pride flared up inside me. No way. I’m far too selfish to share my territory. Even theoretically.
Something scraped unpleasantly inside me. The rational part of my mind understood—it was silly to demand human-style fidelity from a wild forest werewolf ... But deep down, in that part of my soul that had once dreamed of happily ever after, a sharp pain stirred. How could it be—to share a loved one with others? And could I ever accept such rules?
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.