Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
And because the male doing the breeding is still at least partially human—even though it might be only a tiny bit—we don’t consider this breaking the Unbreakable Law against breeding in Fur Form. But I won’t lie, it’s still rough on the female being bred, because she’s getting her pussy opened and stretched by a lot of really large cocks one after the other and then she has to take her chosen Wolf’s knot deep inside her for a breeding that can last for hours.
That’s how it goes in my Pack—and that’s what my parents wanted Delilah to avoid. So all of us were relieved when she passed the age of consent and she still hadn’t gone into Heat. My dad believed that she must be some kind of blank or maybe a dud—that is, a female with Were blood in her veins who fails to manifest any kind of Were characteristics.
They had kept her away from Pack meetings, knowing that she wouldn’t be acceptable to any of the Alphas there. After all, if a Were bitch doesn’t go into Heat, she can’t be bred properly or get pregnant and bear any children. So Delilah stuck to dating human guys—not that she seemed to like any of them very much.
Why am I telling you all this about our Pack and our traditions? Because I’m trying to explain how innocent my little sister was—she’d never been knotted or bred before. She’d never even gone into Heat. Which was yet another reason I felt like such a scumbag for fantasizing about her.
But again, I told myself that I was making more of things than I should—that I was overthinking the whole situation. Delilah still needed the comfort of my arms and my bed every night—it wasn’t her fault I noticed her in ways a big brother should never notice his little sister.
I didn’t come to my breaking point until the night she wore something completely new to bed—which was also completely indecent.
When she stepped in my room that night, she was wearing a little babydoll nighty—I think that’s what they call it. It was a tiny, short nightgown made of see-through white silk. It had spaghetti straps and tied with a ribbon in the front, just above her breasts, which were fully on display through the transparent silk. The bottom hem barely reached her belly button.
The panties that went with it were even worse. Somehow she’d found some that were even smaller than the ones she’d worn previously. I swear the little lace triangle she had on was barely the size of a quarter—it clearly showed both the curls on her mound and the very top of her pussy slit. It didn’t cover the bottom of her pussy lips either—the string that came down from the point of the triangle was pushed to one side, showing a lot more than was decent.
This time I felt like I had to draw the line. Delilah wasn’t dressed like a little sister who was going to sleep with her big brother for comfort. She looked like a bride on her wedding night, wearing something sexy for her new husband—which I most definitely was not.
For the first time I began wondering if my little sister was doing this on purpose. It seemed wrong and crazy, but maybe it was my fault—maybe she was trying to get close to me in an inappropriate way because she was afraid I might leave her otherwise.
“Lilah, stop,” I said, sitting up in bed and holding out a hand before she could climb under the covers with me.
“Why?” She frowned at me. “I’m sleepy. Aren’t you? Let’s go to bed.”
“What is that you’re wearing?” I demanded, raking my eyes over her mostly bare body. “Do you really think it’s appropriate?”
“Oh, you sound like such an old fuddy-duddy.” She laughed at me, the corners of her mismatched eyes crinkling and her freckled nose wrinkling adorably. “I had to do laundry today, but I forgot to change the clothes from the washer to the dryer. So this was all I had left to sleep in. That’s all.”
As she spoke, she climbed onto the bed with me, sitting on her knees with her thighs spread a little, which meant she was still on display. In fact, the little lace triangle of her panties pulled down with the motion, letting me see even more of her soft little pussy slit.
“Do you seriously expect me to let you sleep with me dressed like that?” I demanded sternly. “Look at you—I can see your…your…everything.” I waved a hand to indicate her luscious, nearly naked body. “You’re all on display!”
“But you’re my big brother, Cole,” she said, looking up at me with wide, innocent eyes. “You don’t look at me that way, do you? I’m just your little sister. What does it matter what I’m wearing?”