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The contest holds auditions and I get to sample three.

His eyes roamed her body from the shadows, taking in every nuance as he continued to sniff lightly at the air, taking in the scent of her arousal and the hint of fear that made his hardened length ache with need. "Run if you like. I have all night," he said with a hint of white teeth baring in the darkness, his smile evident even in the shadows.

She reached down with her good hand and eased one heel from her foot and tossed it aside. Removing the other shoe she turned it so that the heel could be used as a weapon of sorts, if she could hit someplace vulnerable, perhaps his eyes or his throat. Those exotic features were set in a stubborn cast and she lifted her chin as if saying it was his move. "I don't run, I fight."

Her words struck him as utterly arousing as she mentioned fighting, something both seductive and na__ve about them as they were uttered past the full lips of a nearly undressed woman holding a high heel as her only weapon against a werewolf. He found a profound respect for her with that one sight. He tilted his head one way and then the other, black strands of hair falling to cover one of his eyes so that only one pinpoint of reflected light shone out from the shadows near the pile of debris.

He rocked back on the balls of his feet for a moment, considering her words, but more importantly, her body, that penetrating stare full of lustful need and a hunger that could not have been explained if he'd tried. The moon was pure and white outside, shining almost brightly enough to bring a sort of daytime to the street outside the door of the old factory. She wouldn't wait long for him to mate or fight, hunt and kill or taste passion through a woman. At the moon's peak, he would lose a great deal of control and taste flesh one way or another. The moon had caught him in a lie. He didn't have all night.
"Then fight," he said, his voice quiet and confident. He would enjoy any damage she caused him. It would only make the ache between his legs harder to deny and quicker to sate.

He loped forward on all fours faster than any human should have been able to. The human body simply wasn't designed to move that quickly, that fluidly, on both hands and feet. He moved upward from beneath her, his hands lightning quick as he dug his shoulder into her stomach hard enough to knock the wind from her lungs. He stood then, his arm wrapping around her body and his fingers holding tight against her thigh as he lifted her without any care for where her dress shirt went when he did so. He felt her hose beneath his fingertips and the heat of the skin beneath as he carried her back towards the mattresses.

She was an agile person. She stretched everyday. Her body was toned and she was lethal in hand to hand combat. It wasn't her strongest attribute, but she knew it might save her life someday. It didn't do much for her with the werewolf coming at her so fast that she didn't even have time to dodge out of the way. There was only that sharp pain in her stomach as she was lifted upwards and hefted over his shoulder. Her lungs burning and the sudden jolt to her wrist made her give a soft cry outwards, using what little air she had left before she sucked in a heaping gulp to compensate for what had been lost. His words rung in her mind and triggered her into action even as he moved. She twisted in the arm that held her. That spiked heel coming down against his back and digging into his skin under the force of her strikes, leaving small bloody holes that would have made a human man drop her in an instant.

His fingers dug into the skin of her thighs, tight pressure points that might have inflicted pain, but he stopped walking and simply stood there as she beat that high heel into his back.

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