A chase in the dark. A hard choice.

Throwing back his head, Hunter unleashed a chilling, eldritch howl. Even to his own ears it sounded like a primeval celebration of savagery, and he could only imagine what it sounded like to Lani as it echoed around the basement room.

He heard a squeal of terror and a scramble of bare feet, then the distinct sounds of panicked running and frantic panting breaths. Unleashing another howl, Hunter bounded after the noise, emitting feral growls as he pursued her.

She was making half crazed whimpering noises as she fled blindly through the darkness, sobbing with dread as she heard him closing the gap between them. His nostrils wrinkled as he scented her fear, almost drowning the ripe fecund aroma of her arousal. She was still excited, he realised, the effects of his pheromones and the hard fucking he'd already given her still working on her sensitised body. His pink cock slid out of it's furry sheath, throbbing with anxious need.

With a fierce growl he leaped into the darkness, guided by his hearing and his sense of smell. His hands caught the terrified girl by a shoulder and a hip, and would have sent her sprawling if he didn't grasp her with his clawed hands, pulling her squirming and screaming towards him.

She was insane with terror, fighting and flailing in a futile effort to escape. He held her easily, as a man might hold a squirming baby, growling savagely as he fought down the urge to kill, to rip her apart with teeth and claws.

Dunigan had warned of this, he remembered. Warned of the feral bloodlust that must be quelled but could not be conquered. He had said that Hunter would need to vent, would need to kill or it would drive him to utter and irreversible madness. He, Dunigan, had chosen victims who deserved ****, had acted as his own vigilante. Hunter had killed the **** in the park, and if that had quelled the urge it was back in **** now, a scarlet flame in his animal brain that needed to rend and ****.

And here in his claws was this helpless squirming morsel of girl flesh.

Ripe for killing.

Or ripe for fucking.

With a **** roar that made Lani redouble her screams he pulled her to him, mounting her on his thick pink shaft as he snarled into her face. His hips started to hammer his cock into her, his massive hands holding her shuddering body as he fucked her like a rag doll, fucked her with maddened fury that triggered a tidal wave of orgasms, supplementing her fear with animal bliss.

She was howling herself, incoherent and barely sane as his mighty cock impaled her, filling her beyond anything she had ever experienced. When his knot swelled, plugging her cunt and trapping her on his meat she hung limp and quivering, twitching as he pumped jet after jet of lupine seed into her fertile young body.

Grunting, he carried her back to her candlelit alcove, still impaled on his pulsing shaft. He lay her trembling body on the mattress, crouching over her as his cock continued to fill her with hot cream. Her eyes were unfocused, rolling up in her head, her body limp and gleaming with sweat. She quivered and twitched from orgasms or their aftershocks, but she was no longer fully aware, her mind shut down in self preservation.