His need was hot, primal. He growled, his eyes glowing golden as he took me from behind, hard.

I knew that disaster was coming. Everyone in our city had fled the encroaching Germans, and while the brave British Expeditionary Forces kept them at bay, it couldn't last forever. I'd grown up here in Mons, Belgium, and I wasn't going to let those bastards take it.

But I wasn't prepared for the horrors of war. I fled, watching innocent people die as the Germans overtook the British positions. I thought it was hopeless. I thought I was dead.

But then he showed up, a wolf-man. A monster of the story books. But he didn't hurt me. He saved me, and we shared a brief moment of sanity in the madness of war. We knew it couldn't last, but that just made it more passionate.

For adults only! Almost eight thousand words of a twink bottom being taken roughly by a stud werewolf soldier!