The thin veil of clouds covering the moon gave it the appearance of being suspended by an invisible thread. He stared at the amber disc for a long time, almost as if waiting for something to come from the encounter. There was magic in the moon this night. It touched part of him. It touched him in that place that made him hard. Lust rose up in him natural and pure, filling him with a powerful urge. The longer he held the gaze with the moon, the harder he became. He slowly lifted thickly muscled arms. Broad hands reached toward the sky and powerful fingers curled into tightly balled fists. He threw his head back, shook the hair from his face, and unleashed a howl into the humid night air that came from the depths of his soul. The magic was powerful indeed.

Nostrils flared as his mind played cruel tricks on him, teasing him with a wisp of her scent on the night breeze. Instinctively, he whirled and tensed. Sculpted thighs flexed, poised to run. There was another urge forcing him into an even stride in the direction he imagined her to be waiting. The wind lifted his hair from his shoulders as he ran across a smooth granite face. The tree line of blue spruce loomed ahead of him with an iridescent glow, as the clouds released the moon into unfettered blackness of the night sky. Stopping at the edge of the forest, he turned and looked once more at the bright amber beacon. Once more magic reached out and touched him in that place. It was her who touched this time igniting the violence of his lust. It was her coming to him through the magic of the moon.

His hard part ached, throbbing with every beat of his heart. He collected himself in his hand and squeezed against a raging desire that threatened to split him open. Wide green eyes locked onto the glowing face high over head. He was held fast, taunted with memories coming alive in the flood of magic moonlight. He could smell her. He could taste her. Through clenched teeth he exhaled sharply, snorting through his nose with a crisp grunt of frustration. He wanted her, and what he wanted, he took.

Night sounds from the darkened forest pulled him from his trance. The urge to run came upon him again as his eyes adjusted to the dim trail. Powerful thrusts from his legs carried him into the forest. Slivers of moonbeams managed to slip through the canopy of trees to slide off of his form like liquid mercury as he ran. His pace quickened when he recognized familiar landmarks. She was closer now. He could smell her again; feel her presence. It made him crazy to remember her body and how she was the only thing that could take away the powerful ache of his hardness. She’d steal it away from him with a matching violence, satisfying an ache of her own. That’s how it always happened when the moon was full.

He burst into a clearing that brimmed with silver moonlight, never slowing to look into the heavens. Driven by an unanswered lust he plunged into a gap in the trees on the lower edge of the small meadow. With two measured strides he sprung into the air, launching himself twenty feet out into a shallow stream. Two more lunging strides carried him up the bank on the opposite side where his ever-quickening pace continued toward the valley below.

* * *

She sat upright, legs folded underneath, rocking front to back, and staring at the moon. Waiting. Wanting. Entranced in the grip of magic, she knew he’d come soon. She could feel him. He was close. His power was close. A shudder of raw anticipation rippled through her, and the ache was back. The ache for a driving hardness he’d bring to her; the hardness he always brought when the moon was full. Impatience battled with frustration, prompting her to shriek a lonely request into the night – a request to be taken – taken the way only he could take her. It would not be tender. It would not be gentle. It would be crazy wild. And it would be that way for her too, for she was not tender, nor was she gentle. It was always like that when the moon was full.

* * *

He thundered out of the trees at full gait and into the long grasses of a wide meadow. Rocks and dead grasses scattered as he braced, skidding to a halt. Keen eyes lifted skyward, as his chest heaved, winded from the mad dash down the mountain. The moon blinded him with incredible brightness. He snorted and blinked his eyes to shake away its image temporarily imprinted on everything else he looked at. Powerful shoulders pulled back as he lifted his head to sniff the wind, searching for evidence of her. She was there; somewhere close. Wildness widened his eyes as he looked through the moonlight for a glimpse of her. Near the center of the meadow there was a cluster of huge rocks abandoned by glaciers from another distant time. There. He would find her there, and on the rocks he would take her.

Her lonely call struck him with the power of a lightning bolt. His head turned toward the sound and scanned the rock formation in the distance. In the moonlight he saw her sitting stiffly with her arms wrapped tightly around her body, rocking back and forth.

"Hoy," he bellowed, thrusting both arms over his head.

She jumped to her feet and returned his greeting with a lusty reply, "Hah nya!"

When she rose to answer him, the skins she wore fell away from her body, exposing her nakedness to the searing brilliance of a coaxing moon. Narrow blades of grass swished and snapped, as he crashed ahead through the sea of knee-high sentinels. In an instant, he crossed the distance between them, clambering nimbly up the rocks to reach her. As he pulled himself to his feet on the rock where she stood, she sprung at him like a jungle cat. He stepped into her charge, as his own skins fell away, exposing the hardness she wanted. A low rumble that started deep in his chest answered the lusty growl that rolled from her lips. Strong arms supported her weight as she wriggled against him trying to capture him, instinct dictating what she needed. He stood, powerful legs supporting her weight, holding her squirming form tightly to his body, trapping his hardness between them, struggling to slip into her heat, thrashing in the throes of a clumsy lust.

She had both hands full of his hair, digging at him with her heels, as she writhed in his grip, gyrating and thrusting her hips, trying to force him into her. He dropped to his knees still holding her tightly to him. The impact of landing on his knees forced her down onto his length, and she shrieked into the night, uttering the primal song of perfectly mixed pain and pleasure. The lust-animal that rose up in them locked them together seamlessly in one driving thrust after another.

The full weight of his body crushed her, as they rolled onto the heap of discarded skins. Powerful arms slipped under her back, as they thrashed and bucked like hellions. With a final thrust, he grunted savagely, signaling his release, spilling his seed deep inside her. She cried out with her own ecstasy, clutching him with her whole body.

In the dying echoes of their passion, the only sound left was the rasp of heavy breathing and the hushed sounds of the night. They lay together for a few minutes without moving. Their bodies twitched and quivered, as they slowly recovered from the violence of their sex. Finally, he grunted, rolling off her and onto his back. She looked at him in silence, then turned away to look up at the moon and the backdrop of a million stars.

An instant later, a shooting star streaked across the heavens, and she sat up abruptly, pointing at it, squealing and gesturing excitedly. When she laid down again, her head came to rest on a thick shoulder and an arm that pulled her closer to him. She turned to look at him again, watching him quietly as he studied the heavens. Out of the corner of her eye she saw another shooting star flash overhead. Again, she stretched her arm to point. This time he reached up like he was grabbed the wayward star before it blinked out. His big hand blocked her view, as he closed his fingers around the falling star. Slowly, he brought his hand to his chest and turned to look at her. He smiled, reached over and opened his hand, placing the shadow of a fallen star between her breasts.

The magic was strong this night. It always was when the moon was full.