Wild And Free Novels & Stories

I grinned at him, happy I managed to impress the seemingly wealthy guy, “I know right.” Together we walked across the lawn to the front door and I unlocked it. As soon as the door was pushed open, Dom lifted me into his arms, his fingers digging into my butt and I wrapped my legs around his waist, rubbing my pussy against his crotch. The erection strained against his trousers as he smashed his lips against mine. Rough, Feral, and Hungry like he was a man starved of food.

He nipped his way up my neck until he reached my ear and whispered, “You’re bad, Brenda. You’re bad and I fucking love it.” “I prefer wild,” I breathed out, finishing on a moan. “You’re bad and you’re wild.” He picked up his pace. “You’re my wild, tempting bitch. Don’t go soft on me.” I laughed, my fists clenching above my head. “Never.” And when I cummed, it was hard and it was wild.

It was that specific kind of freedom where you wear whatever you want, move however you want, and breathe without the constant need to hold in your stomach or check over your shoulder. I was lounging in an oversized, sheer white shirt. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and I certainly wasn't wearing panties; it was just my bare skin beneath the thin, soft fabric. The air conditioning was humming, and the chill had already made my nipples stand out prominently against the shirt, but I didn’t care. I felt free. I felt comfortable for the first time in weeks. Thirsty and craving something sweet, I wandered into the kitchen. I yawned, stretching my arms high above my head in a lazy arc that pulled the hem

"You know, I was advised to seek out 'SEX' as a way out of my sadness. And it was really you whom I wanted to seek it out with." Lexie said with a mischievous smile. "You sound so wild." Ram said, shaking his head. Lexie laughed. "Hah, oh yeah? You'll see. I might be so wild that one night won't be enough for you." Lexie said seductively. "Hm, is that so?" Ram said playfully. Lexie just grinned. 'Geez, what would this man do if he ever found out that I was a virgin and didn't even have a clue about anything I just said?'

The silver glow danced across her thick, gray coat, highlighting the sharp lines of her face and the piercing yellow of her eyes. Freedom. The word resonated deep within her, a primal cry of liberation. River's wolf-self stretched, feeling the rush of wind through her fur, the scent of the forest floor, and the thrill of unbridled power. For a moment, she forgot the alliance, Cecilia's schemes, Thane’s hurtful words and the weight of her responsibilities. All that remained was the wild, untamed joy of being. With a joyful bound, River's wolf-self leapt into the night, racing across the pack lands with abandon, her paws pounding out a rhythm of freedom.

There are only three words for what we are: Young. Wild. Free. Snoop and wiz khalifa said it all. I get the feeling that this is what being a teenager should be like. That songs were made to be sang out loud, with lungs fresh from Heaven's factory. Life—to be experienced in an uncontrollable atomic fashion constituted by bursts of unbridle-able energy. The air—to be inhaled without thought or obligations or responsibilities; released, unshackled, worry-less, unchained—free.

The howl was a wild, living force, a bright, uncontained energy that filled the space with life and the thrill of discovery. It was a sound of celebration, a vivid, living presence, a bright, unyielding energy that filled the space with life and the thrill of the unknown. Her freedom was raw and fierce, a bright, cutting energy, a wild, uncontained force that filled the space with life and the thrill of discovery. Amelia’s identity was a sharp, living presence, a vivid, bright energy that filled the space with life and the thrill of the unexpected.

I was too busy feeling… whole. We raced each other as the bands of northern lights danced above us, our paws kicking up clouds of snow as we ran toward the outskirts of the pack’s land. The crisp night air bit at my exposed nose, but I barely felt it. It reminded me of the first night I’d gotten my wolf—how freeing and liberating it was to be out in the wilderness, alone with my mate, away from all responsibility and judgment, just the two of us against the world.

Soon to be my wild horse. She was still closing her eyes while biting her hand. Her cheeks were stained with tears, giving them a natural tint of crimson red. Her hair was spread all over the bed while some of them hid her face from me. Her chest heaved up and down with each shaky breath she took and that’s when I realized she had refused to wear the shirt I gave her and decided to wear her almost-nothing negligee again. Her erect nipples were teasing and gawking at me through her thin fabric and the urge to take them into my mouth was immense. I gawked at the ethereal beauty in front of me, imagining all the things I want to do to her, right this second, right here.

The change takes it away. I am wild and uncontainable like my breath, like my life, like my self. I am wild and raw and untamed.. I am wild and I am more than I can keep, more than I can be. I am wild and I am not ready, not ready for this, not ready for it. I am wild and I am supposed to be Mara, supposed to be, supposed to hold on.