Werewolf

The beast within him released,
He hovers above her
Looking into her unabashed eyes.
They both are ready but they wait,
Allowing the passion to build.

He seizes her breast; she moans
And tenses her back.
His fangs probe her neck
With a hunger he rarely allows
And he begins to feast on her flesh.

His other hand grasps her wrist
And pulls her hand above her head.
Pushing downward firmly
To claim her and show her
He is the alpha wolf now.

She writhes with pleasure,
Her other hand on his back,
While he tightens his grip
On her succulent breast
Pulling and pushing with fervor.

He was a man until he saw her
Naked, eager and shameless
On his bed, like a sacrifice
To his passion, and hers.
Now he is a monster, a fiend.

He presses downward
With his hips and torso.
He cannot hold back
His hunger, his fever, his lust.
He has been waiting so long.

Their fever builds and they cry out,
Both are caught up with the hunger.
He enters her and she gasps,
Sucking in air so that
Her body can take him in as well.

There is no rhyme, no cadence,
Just wild gyrations and thrusts.
He has lost control
And only she can tame him.
But not until they both are satisfied.

Jan. 2018