book cover of The Wolves\' Breeding Trap

The Wolves' Breeding Trap

(The third book in the Impregnated By The Wolves series)
A Novella by

Gemma ventures off of the Appalachian trail and unknowingly enters the wolves' territory during mating season. She is awakened by a beast who wants nothing more than to fill her human body with his feral seed - And he isn't alone.

Read on for a small taste of what's inside:

The next thing Gemma knew she was being ushered into the fold; feeling high on the fumes she tried to take it all in. She was unconcerned when she was stripped of her yoga clothes and a thick furry covering of pelt became her garb. A mask was slipped over her face and the night spun into a haze from there on.

Gemma didn't know if she volunteered or had been corralled into the center of the room, but she was being covered by bright crimson liquid. The smell was not toxic, it was unlike paint altogether. She realized it was some kind of berry mix, natural and probably aphrodisiacal. Completely naked except for the thick red berry covering she found herself facing a tall thin man in the center of the barn. She licked her lips taking in the fruity aura and anticipating the thrill of public spectacle. Both sets of her lips were tingling; with her tongue and clit twitching she moved towards her partner, who was painted leafy green.

The very first touch, a graze of the arm was electric, something Gemma had never experienced in decades of dating and missionary sex. This savage ritual was sending her swirling up to a new level of sensation. The surrounding crowd became silent, light wind from the mountains joined an atmosphere buzzing with anticipation. She felt both free, and in front of the world's largest audience, about to fuck a stranger on stage at the Super Bowl. She was ready to perform; she had been moved by the moment and music of the ritual.

Without taking another breath, Gemma's hand reached out and grabbed his hard green cock, blending the colors with her strokes. Her unknown onlookers and co performer took a gasp of breath in unison. She could feel penetrating eyes and expectations rise as she rubbed the long powerful penis with both hands. The paint acted as a lubricant; her relentless handwork was bringing her partner to a huffing climax.

A new canvas had been laid out to record their actions. Red and green footprints leading towards each other provided information of a telling introduction. Gemma was seized by a sudden need for color, a dedication for a cause that had never previously interested her.

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