"The idea of packs 'in the north' sounds like a fairy tale, if you ask me," he said, then he started to get increasingly distracted as she first pulled off his shirt, and then took off hers.<br/><br/>When she kissed him, he sat at the edge of the chair, one of his hands going around her waist to hold her backside in a strong hand, the other running up her side and cupping a silk-covered breast.  He squeezed as his tongue slid against hers, as he kissed her deep, broke the kiss, and kissed her from a different angle.  His cock was hard and straining against his jeans as she broke away and slid out of her pants.<br/><br/>"I forgot what I was going to say," he said, slipping from the chair to his knees in front of her.  He kissed the plain of her belly, his hands running up her legs from her ankles to her backside, then down, again.  His kisses trailed down, too, until he was exploring her sex through the cloth of her panties.  By then, both of his hands had settled on her backside, gripping her curves so the tips of his fingers pressed into her flesh.<br/><br/>At the same time, his senses grew.  He could feel her in ways he'd never felt a person before - in his heart, in his mind.  He had to struggle not to tear off the lacy clothes between them, tear off his own remaining clothes, and take her violently.  Then it occurred to him that Vara was not as fragile as a human woman would be....<br/><br/>He was heady, breathy.  He had had lovers before - but never a werewolf.  There were a few human trading villages - walled, armed to the teeth - not too far away and with enough salvage or trade goods you could find a girl to fuck.  He flirted often, but the traders were hardened to such things and all his sex was commercial.  He felt it was crossing a line, too, to psychically compel someone into bed with him, and rape held no interest to him.  So, he found his heart pounding his chest, as Vara shattered the line between flirting and sex.