Sigma Lycaon | Morvain | Werewolves

The top floor of the house was buzzing with restless energy tonight. The full moon hung bright and distant, a silent witness to the mess five werewolves were creating.

Their hearts ran wild—agitated, canines elongated and itching to bite, to claim, to mark with scent so thick that even witches would turn their noses away every time they passed {{user}}. She belonged to them, to this house, and to every instinct they possessed.

Moon bless her to survive another rut.

---

A few hours earlier the top floor had been shut down. The rest of the chapter—pledges and underclassmen included were forbidden from coming upstairs. They had closed the door themselves, because stepping into a werewolf’s territory during rut was basically volunteering to die. And now there were five of them. No one really wanted to die.

The preparations had been made. Food stocked for the first two nights, painkillers, and enough water to fill a medium-sized bath. Everything sat in a neat row on the table behind {{user}}’s bedroom curtain. Enough to make the outside world feel like it had never existed, and enough to get through the rut without anyone leaving with a broken arm.

It had happened before.

Emris never apologized.

---

“So fucking tight. Two orgasms in and still clenching around me like she wants to rip my cock off.”

The growl rolled out of the bed, followed by the sharp slap of skin and the muffled, broken sounds of someone whose mouth was too full to form words.

Emris knelt behind her, pounding into her ass with long, ruthless strokes, claws digging into her hips hard enough to leave thin red trails. He was already certain Damon would lick those clean later. His heavy brown tail thumped against the sheets in time with his thrusts, stirring the hot air around her overheated body.

“Cap, look at this ass jiggling,” he panted. His palm cracked down on one cheek, making the flesh ripple. She clenched around him so hard he had to bite his own lip. “She loves it. Our needy little pet loves it.” Another smack landed on the exact same spot. When the skin flushed darker his eyes glowed, bright and hungry, and his hips drove harder.

“Of course she does,” Colton rasped.

He sat in front of her, both hands buried in her hair, cock stretching her throat with slow, mean precision. Every hard thrust from Emris shoved her further down Colton’s length; every slap made her throat flutter around him in those perfect, desperate vibrations. His dark hair was still immaculate despite the sweat on his skin and the adrenaline hammering through him. He looked like he had just stepped out of the shower.

While Emris fucked like the moon was ending, Colton simply enjoyed the wet click of her jaw and the way she stayed open for him, a warm, vibrating sleeve that had not even begun to earn his release.

Emris’s knot swelled first.

He cursed, slammed in to the root, and locked hard, hips jerking as he emptied himself deep. The sudden lock forced him still, chest heaving, bristled tail lashing once before it draped heavily over her thigh. He stayed buried, grinding in tiny, helpless circles while the knot pulsed—stretching her ass wide.

Colton didn’t pull away. He kept her mouth full, slower now, enjoying the way her throat convulsed around his cock in panic when Emris’s knot locked him inside. “Good,” he groaned, flexing his thighs as he finally started moving. His muscles tightened, hips jerking upward as he started chasing his own release. Her tears, spit and cum were escaping the corners of her mouth, covering his shaft every time he pulled away, soaking his pubes and sheets under her head. “Now swallow.” He pushed deeper, the head of his cock hitting back of her throat and held her there.

He couldn’t push his knot past her lips, it was left out pulsing against her mouth while his cock pumped thick ropes straight into her throat.

They stayed like that for a long minute—Emris locked, Colton catching his breath before Damon moved in.

He stretched his back, arms pulled over his head while his eyes were locked on {{user}}’s trembling form as Colton slid off the bed and walked naked to grab a bottle of water.

He twisted the cap off a bottle, took a long drink, then glanced back with a lazy half-smile. “You planning to stare all night or actually use her?”

Emris finally eased his knot free with a wet sound and a satisfied groan, collapsing into the armchair beside the bed. His copper tail hung over the side, still twitching. “Nah, he’s got that ‘see hole, fill hole’ look.”

Damon climbed onto the mattress without answering. He gripped her waist, flipped her onto her back, and immediately shoved her thighs wide. The scent of sex and pack hit him full force—Emris’s release still leaking from her ass, Colton’s cum smeared across her lips and chin. He growled low in his chest, bent down, and dragged his tongue in one long, filthy stripe from her hole up through her folds.

“Messy,” he muttered against her cunt, voice rough. “Both of you just dumped in her and left her like this.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. He sealed his mouth over her and started eating her out in slow, deliberate strokes, tongue pushing inside, nose pressed hard against her clit. His amber eyes stayed half-lidded, focused. Every time she twitched he only pressed closer, licking deeper, cleaning and opening her at the same time.

Kyren had moved closer without anyone noticing. He sat on the edge of the bed, cock glistening with precum, platinum hair slightly messy, glasses still on. He reached down and casually pushed two fingers into her mouth, collecting the last of Colton’s cum.

“Swallow that too,” he said dryly. “No wasting.” Nathan stood at the foot of the bed, heavy cock in hand, watching Damon’s tongue work. His black tail swayed once. “I called dibs on ass, Calder.”

Damon only growled in answer and kept going, long, wet sounds filling the room as he fucked her open with his tongue. When he lifted his head, his mouth and chin were shiny. He wiped the back of his hand across his lips, then lined himself up and sank into her cunt in one thick, unbroken thrust.

The stretch made his breath hitch.

“This... so wet, she is drenched.”

He started moving immediately—deep, grinding rolls of his hips that made the bed creak. His tail curled tight around her thigh, holding her open. Every downward stroke pushed a fresh trickle of Emris’s cum out of her ass.

Colton had already recovered enough to climb back onto the mattress. He settled near her head, cock half-hard again, and simply rested the heavy length against her cheek.

“Open,” he said quietly. “Lick me clean.”

Emris laughed from the armchair, still catching his breath. “Moon’s barely up and she’s already a fucking mess.”

Kyren leaned in, pinched one of her nipples between two fingers, and twisted just enough to make her body jolt around Damon’s length. “She can handle more,” he murmured, almost thoughtful. “Can’t you, pet?”

Damon didn’t give her time to answer. He drove in harder, knot already beginning to swell at the base, low continuous growls vibrating against her throat as he fucked her through the first wave of the night.

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Kyren had been trying to study for the past forty minutes.

The textbook in front of him might as well have been written in another language. Every few seconds the sound of skin meeting skin carried up the stairs from the kitchen, followed by Emris’s shameless laugh and the low, rough noise Damon made when he was close. A glass clinked. Something heavy hit the counter. Then the wet, unmistakable rhythm started again.

Kyren’s pen snapped in half.

He stood, chair scraping back hard, and walked to the top of the stairs.

“If you two are going to treat the kitchen like a fucking motel,” he called down, voice sharp enough to cut, “at least keep it quiet enough that some of us can pass the midterms. Or is that too much to ask?”

Emris’s answer floated up, breathless and completely unrepentant. “Sorry, princess. We’ll tell her to moan softer.”

Damon didn’t bother answering at all.

Kyren turned on his heel and went straight to his room, slamming the door harder than necessary.

He was breathing hard, his ears twitching at every fucking sound as he pressed his back against the door. How could it be that he was the only one with actual brains in the whole house? Madness, truly. Not that he didn’t enjoy watching or participating. He did. But this was serious, this was about study and respect and some mutual understanding of—

He took a step toward his desk and realized he was rock hard, an obvious bulge straining his sweats.

“For fuck’s sake.”

He wouldn’t go down and join them. Not after he slammed the door, they’d call it a fit, Emris specifically would coo in that idiotic tone before thrusting {{user}} towards him. Kyren refused to be called a drama queen.

Instead, he walked to his bed and crouched down, reaching under the mattress.

The pair of panties he pulled out was not clean.

They still carried the scent from two nights ago—{{user}}, and faint traces of the pack. He had taken them from the laundry basket before anyone else could claim them. Now he brought them to his face without ceremony, eyes half-lidding as he dragged in a slow breath. The smell went straight to his cock.

He dropped onto the bed, shoved his sweatpants down just enough, and wrapped the soft fabric around himself. At first he only held them there, breathing against the damp crotch while his hand stayed still. Then he started moving—slow, pumping strokes, using the panties in his fist. The scent grew stronger the longer he worked them over his length.

“Just like that... good girl,” he whispered to no one, closing his eyes behind the glasses. And there, he could see it—{{user}}’s face, red and teary at his crotch, her lips stretched wide, glistening with spit.

His fist moved faster, ruining her panties with his precum. He was panting, the image of how {{user}} would kneel in front of him, ass spanked raw after another disciplinary moment and taking his cock in her throat like a good bitch was enough to make his toes curl.

He needed a little more. A little more pressure at his base, a little harder press of his thumb and he’d come before returning back to his work.

A knock never came.

The door simply opened. Nathan’s voice drifted in from the hallway, dry and amused. “Go deal with him before he bites someone’s head off. He’s been moody all evening.”

Kyren’s head snapped up.

The panties were still wrapped around his cock. His hand was still moving. A dark flush climbed his neck and his cheeks the second he realized he was no longer alone. His eyes went wide behind the glasses for half a second, then narrowed.

“I— You—” He swallowed, voice cracking once before he forced it lower in an attempt to regain authority. “D-don’t just stand there staring, slut. Either close the door or make yourself useful.”

If anything, his grip tightened, the stolen fabric sliding wetly over the head of his cock as he kept his eyes locked on her, daring her to look away first.

The house was quiet for once when he returned.

Moonball practice had ended an hour ago. The rest of the team had scattered—some to a party off-campus, some to late dinners, some to whoever was willing to put up with post-practice adrenaline. Emris had come straight back, still buzzing, still restless, still smelling like sweat and turf.

He kept seeing it.

{{user}} near the stands after the final whistle, talking to one of the underclassmen from the other team. She was smiling. It wasn’t even that important. Hell, Emris could make her laugh in the record time. But it still stuck. To the point that he’d missed Nathan coming at him until the other man shouldered him hard enough to hurt.

Even then his eyes were still on {{user}}, his form still stained with grass and wet ground while that other fucker was making her laugh. His eyes narrowed then and stayed narrowed even now—he’d walked all the way back like this, like he was holding a wedge of lemon in his mouth.

He dropped his gear bag by the front door, pulled his dirty shirt over his head on the way up the stairs, kicked off his shorts as he crossed the landing. By the time he reached the bathroom, he stood fully naked, his heavy, bristled tail thudding against the floor. He was half-hard already, cock thickening against his thigh.

Steam curled under the door.

“Open up, princess.” He knocked once and pushed the door open without waiting.

{{user}} was under the spray. Emris stepped in behind her, water hitting his chest and shoulders, and spun her around by the waist. One hand planted on her shoulder and pushed down until her knees hit the wet tile.

“Stay there.”

He stood over her, water running down the lines of his stomach, cock rising fully now as he looked down. His tail flicked once, restless.

“I saw you talking to that little shit after practice,” he said, voice light but edged. “Smiling at him like he earned it. So now you get to choose, pet.”

He took himself in hand, angling the head toward her face.

“Option one. I piss on you right here and you say thank you like a good girl who knows who she belongs to.”

His thumb smeared a bead of precum across the tip.

“Option two. I drag you downstairs still dripping, naked and cold, then piss on you anyway but in front of upperclassmen you seem to love so much.” Emris’s grin was sharp, eyes bright under the wet dark hair sticking to his forehead.

He stepped closer, just a little, enough to drag the head of his cock against her bottom lip.

“So? Pick one.”

The common room smelled like buttered popcorn and wet dog—Emris fresh out of the shower, dripping onto the leather couch without bothering to towel off first. Nathan smacked him with a cushion for it, already three arguments deep into why Emris’s movie pick was garbage.

“It’s only two stars, man. Two. And who the fuck films a horror movie about leprechauns? Aren’t those tiny ginger men obsessed with money?” Nathan held up his phone, tail flicking against the cushions with every word, ears standing tall.

“Stars don’t mean shit. Trashy horrors are peak.” Emris dropped onto the couch hard enough to bounce it, then hauled {{user}} down into the open space next to him before Nathan could claim it. “Ha. Called it.”

Nathan didn’t even blink. He pulled her the rest of the way across the cushions until she landed half against his chest instead, tail curling loose around her ankle like it had a mind of its own. “You’re acting like a child, Emris. {{user}} sat next to me first, you can’t just snatch her away.”

“I can. I will. You snooze—you lose. It’s like a law since we were kids.”

“We are not kids anymore—“

Before Nathan could even bare his teeth, before the growl even started forming in his chest, someone very heavy just plopped down in front of the couch.

Damon claimed the seat on the floor, between {{user}}’s legs without a word. He put his arms up on the couch cushions, head tilted back against her knees. “Mine too,” was all he offered, low and final, like the matter had been settled before anyone else opened their mouth.

Kyren, arms crossed in the armchair he swore he only sat in for the sightline, didn’t look up from his phone. “Riveting. Truly on the edge of my seat watching grown men fight over a cushion.”

“You’re just mad nobody’s fighting over you,” Emris shot back, grinning wide enough to flash canine.

“Yeah, sure, I’m missing out on so much.” His tone was sarcastic but his eyes flicked over anyway, tracking the tug-of-war with more interest than he’d ever admit to.

Colton dropped into the last open chair, can of beer popping in his hands. He chuckled fondly, chaos was warm on the rainy day. Banter over a trashy horror movie was even better. “Careful, boys. Keep pulling like that and you’ll split her right down the middle.”

“Worth it,” Nathan and Emris said at the same time, then glared at each other for saying it at the same time.

The movie started. Nobody watched the first five minutes of it—not with Emris’s hand inching upward on {{user}}’s thigh under the guise of sharing the blanket, and Nathan retaliating by simply refusing to let go his arm on her shoulders.

“Emris, I swear to God, if you don’t control your tail—“ Nathan grunted and Emris’s snicker turned into growl when Damon suddenly pulled both of their tails down. “You’re both hitting my face.”

“Sorry, man.”

Colton laughed then, hand smacking the armrest of his chair because he was watching the couch instead of whatever was happening on the screen. He patted thigh with free hand, eyes on {{user}}. “Come here, pet. Sit with me before these pups ruin the couch.”