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It had been a week since Cymmie's gentleman caller had last made his appearance and they had gone to dinner together. She had started to worry she would not hear from the mastiff again. Yet the logical part of her knew that was not likely, if she was not to hear from him again, then he would never have visited her the second time.

She was frowning at herself in the mirror of the backroom. She was over thinking this, far too much. She had never cared about a male before, so why did this mastiff who she barely knew, worm his way into her thoughts so easily. Her ears flattened against her skull and she shook her head back and forth vehemently as if to rid herself of the offending images of him leaning against that wall so nonchalantly.

It was almost time for her to go onstage and dance, there was no way she could lose herself in the music when she was already so lost in her mind. Cymmie's golden eyes narrowed at her mirror image and she forced herself to inhale and push all of the memories and worries from her mind. Once she was sure she was safe, she exhaled slowly and opened the eyes she never realized she had closed.

She adjusted the corset on her body so it pushed her breasts up more, her cleavage practically doubling to unnecessary proportions. Her gaze swept her bottom half, thinking for a minute about what to adorn her lower half with. Usually she wore some type of barely-there skirt, sometimes she wore lacey leggings. Yet tonight she was feeling reckless. She slipped on a pair of lace panties and a matching set of black knee length tights.

With a sharp nod at her reflection she made her way out onto the stage. Immediately she was aware, as soon as she stepped into the spotlight, that something was different this night. The air in the club was charged with an electricity that caused her fur to stand on end. Cymmie blinked in confusion, looking around into the dark room, seeing only the blinding lights on stage.

A slight frown once again creased her brow but with a small shrug she merely struck her starting pose, and the music began. Then it took control of her muscles. Filling her every fiber with movement, fluidness and gracefulness she rarely possessed unless she was dancing, moved her. The world melted away, she arched and twirled, her life became a swirling blend of sounds that surged through her veins and controlled her every action.

As she took a deep breath, reality crashed hard around her, her eyes snapped open and her ears which had just seconds before been tilted backward at a relaxed and luxurious position, snapped back against her skull as if she were suddenly terrified. She paused, just long enough for the spell of her movements to be broken, and the audience to start to complain. Someone behind the curtain prompted her, but she merely shook her head.

Her nostrils flared again, completely unaware she was even on stage anymore, she sifted through the scents. There it was! She hadn't been imagining it. His scent, that alluring musk that she had been haunted by for so long with just a splash of cigarette smoke.

She licked her lips a little nervously. Cymmie wasn't quite sure why she was so anxious for Grgur to see her here. The wolf was positive he knew about her dancing career long before their second meeting. Yet... she almost felt like she was cheating on him being up on stage with so little covering her.

Immediately she turned tail and ran off stage, much to the complaints of the patrons and the confusion of the staff. She'd let the manager handle it, at the moment she was positive she was going to throw up. She stepped into the backroom and immediately cracked open a bottle of water she grabbed from the fridge. Cymmie inhaled the cold liquid so fast she gave herself a brain freeze.

She had never broken presence on stage, much less run off it... so why did she? She technically knew her reasons, but they made no sense. Grgur had made no advances toward anything like a relationship, they went on one date. So why... why was she already so bonded to him? She growled at herself in frustration, and knew she was going to catch hell for this, but immediately changed into jeans and white button-up shirt. With her bag packed she left without mentioning anything to anyone. If they really needed her they'd call.

Yes, she knew she was fleeing. But her heart was still pounding and every part of her said run from the scene and the possibility of getting in trouble with this mastiff who had far too much control over her already.

As Cymmie stepped out the back entrance, the smell of the city greeted her, she breathed in the fresh air gratefully. She started her way toward the front of the alley, when out of nowhere someone pushed her up against the wall. Her immediate instincts took hold, and her ears flattened, her lips pulled back into a snarl, and her body readied itself for a fight.

That is until she realized who was holding her and that his one paw easily pinned both of hers up above her head. The other of Grgur's paw held a glowing cigarette in his hand, he took a lazy drag off it, blowing it up, before he ground it against the wall next to her head and flicking it away.

A smirk curved his muzzle as he looked her up and down, his mahogany brown eyes blazing a trail of heat in their wake.

"Seems to me I caught myself a little wolf," he said with a smooth arrogance that made her hackles raise and yet the majority of her melt into a puddle.

"Seems so, but what will you do with her? How do you know if you let her go she won't just rip out that pretty throat of yours?" Cymmie snarled.

"Ah, who said anything about letting her go?" he leaned in, she could bite him if she wanted and he knew it, he dragged his nose across her neck and inhaled deeply. "Hm? Seems like the little wolf doesn't want to be let go either, not by the pheromones she's putting out."

She refused to meet his eye, he was annoyingly correct, Cymmie was all too aware of the throbbing between her thighs and the slickness that had started to grow.

"Yes, I think I will have my way with you right here while I can, before you... what was it? "Rip out my throat"?" his eyes glimmered with a devilish light as his free paw danced over the front of her blouse and popped a button open.

He continued to lazily flick open button after button until there were none left, despite Cymmie's glares. Then he pushed open the blouse to full show her breasts to him, immediately her gaze dropped and a sudden anxiety took hold of her.

"Look at me, Cymmie," he said, his voice firm, immediately her eyes snapped up, the desire to follow his command was so natural. "Good girl."

Her submissive nature was taking hold, which it always seemed to when he was around. He looked her in the eye for a few more seconds, just to make sure she was with him, and that this was actually consensual. Seeming satisfied with whatever he saw in her eyes, his arrogant air returned, and he focused his gaze on her chest.

The hunger she saw in his eyes made her feel like she was bursting into flames, then his massive paw came up to cup her breast, as if measuring their weight. That broke down what meager defenses were left of hers, and a mix between a sigh and a gasp fell from her lips. His gaze flitted up to her eyes for a second before his head bowed and gave a long lick of her nipple.

She jumped, a whimper left her, he seemed to take this as incentive and nipped her nipple, it was experimental and gentle, but she must have reacted well because the next nip on her other nipple was harder. He was testing her, and the harder nip made her writhe and moan loudly.

He grinned a toothy smile and said, "So you are a pain slut, hm?"

Her ears fell back in embarrassment but more heat pooled in her core and she smelled it, that meant he could too, and by the way his nostrils flared he did. She could see him thinking about something for a minute, turning something over in his mind, she also noticed the thickening bulge in his pants.

"Fuck it," he said and flicked open the zipper of her jeans with the agility of someone who has had way too much practice.

He pushed the offending material down to her ankles, and then looked up at her paws thoughtfully, "I am going to release you, but you aren't going to touch ok?"

Confused, Cymmie merely nodded, she was so far under his spell she would never say no. He smiled at her and released her wrists, which she obediently kept at her sides. She glanced down at her jeans, and stepped out of them with a frown, as if she didn't understand why they were on in the first place. She was no longer aware of the surrounding world, her world had narrowed to this canine in front of her, he was everything at the moment.

He seemed pleased with her decision to discard the pants. He looked at her underwear and she didn't even need to be told, she immediately slipped them off. When she looked back up at him, he had also discarded his jeans, and was now palming his dick. She watched the action with hungry eyes, and felt a new wave of heat wash over her.

He smirked and said, "Turn around."

She did as she was told, and instinctively she lifted her tail and tilted her hips up. Cymmie looked back at him expectantly, at the moment it was almost like he was just going to jack off to the sight of her ready for him. Cymmie wasn't quite sure if he was positive he should take the next step or not.

She waited for his paw to still and him to look at her eyes and she gave him the smallest of nods, giving just enough so that he knew she wanted it too. With a feral growl Grgur trapped her against the wall, biting her scruff and curling his fingers in between hers, as he lined up with her entrance.

She arched against him as his teeth sank into her neck, a high keening whimper left her throat. Then he was pressing forward, filling her slowly and fuck it's too much and not enough all at once. She wanted him to pull out, she wanted all of him, she never wanted him to leave. She was whining and shuddering in his jaws, her claws grating against the brick of the wall as she clenched her fist.

He's too big, she's too tight, he'll never fit... all these thoughts were rushing through her head as she stretched to accommodate his girth. Even as wet as she was, it makes the intrusion hard to get used to, she hadn't had proper sex for a few years. Then she felt him bottom out, he stilled, though she can tell by the way his jaw clenches a little more around her skin, and the way his paw on her hip is trembling slightly, that it was taking every ounce of his will to stop himself from riding her like a two-dollar whore.

Then she felt her muscles finally relax, they stopped fighting, and her throat rumbled out a groan of satisfaction. Immediately she felt the tension in his body shift, he pulled out, slow, then returned to her. The pace is slow at first, but as her groans grew louder, his hips grew more desperate. Then she stiffened, and she shuddered as her first orgasm floods over her.

A grunt escapes him as her walls clenched around him, and his hips stutter followed by a sharp inhale of what she assumes is surprise. She laughs a little.

"Sorry, I cum quickly and a lo..." her words trailed off into a string of curses as another orgasm wracks her frame, this one stronger.

"Fuck I'm not gonna last long then, you are too tight, god when was the last time you got fucked?" his words were broken with heavy panting and she came around him again.

"A few years I..." she forgot the last word as her head fell forward and she starts babbling, he hit a spot that she didn't even know she had.

He chuckled and with renewed focus went to work pounding away until she was only screaming, and then she gushed around him, a howl leaving her. The last orgasm, with the rush of fluid, seemed to have hit something within him because he said "mine" in a short exclamation, pulled out and rutted against her back pressing with paw on his knot. Within a few short strokes he came a ridiculous amount all over her fur.

He blinked, his vision a bit blurry, fuck no bitch had ever made him blow that much of a load before... or claim them vocally like that. He frowned a little bit in confusion. But when he looked back at Cymmie, who was still bent over, her back covered in his semen, he knew why he had.

He fixed his pants, frowned deeper, and brushed a paw softly across Cymmie's ass. Then before she could gain her bearings he left. He had to think.