The Alpha Claims A Mate

by Georgette St. Clair

  “If she can go on your property, why can’t a legitimate scientist?” snapped Professor Reese.

  “Because you’re not a legitimate scientist. You’re a treasure hunting looter with no respect for indigenous people’s customs,” Montgomery snarled.

  “So,” Sheriff Armstrong said quickly, cutting them off. “What brings you out here today, Montgomery?”

  “I demand the right to inspect his site and all of his vehicles for stolen artifacts,” Montgomery said.

  “Absolutely not. He may rule his Nation like a demi-god, but the second he steps out of the Nation’s territory, he has no authority.” Professor Reese folded his arms and looked smug.

  “Why doesn’t he want us to look at his dig? Has he got something to hide?” Montgomery glowered.

  “Let me on your land, and I’ll let you inspect our dig,” the professor smirked at him.

  “Panthers don’t make deals with humans!” Montgomery roared, fangs descending.

  “Show some respect for our leader, or pay the consequence!” Richard Iron Claw’s eyes blazed with rage.

  “This whole expedition is a fraud! He’s not even a specialist in Mastadon fossils! He’s a specialist in early Native American tribal lore, and he has a reputation as a thief of priceless artifacts!”

  “I gather artifacts for museums! You’re selfish! You hoard them and hide them from the world!” The professor sounded like a two-year-old who’d been denied a new toy.

  “They’re our heritage! They’re not trinkets for people to gape at!”

  “I’ve never stolen an artifact in my life! Keep flinging false accusations at me, and I’ll sue!” Professor Reese actually stamped his foot on the ground. He stood several steps behind the sheriff as he did so.

  Ginger bit her lip in frustration. She was dying to jump in and yell at them as if they were all a bunch of kindergarteners, which is exactly what they were acting like, but to do so would be to undermine the sheriff’s authority.

  The yelling grew more heated, and she turned and walked away.

  As the shouting reached a fever pitch, Jax and his deputy leaped out of the patrol car and came trotting back to stand behind the sheriff. Both groups of men glared and bristled at each other.

  Several minutes later, the panthers turned, shifted into panther form, bellowed out a series of threatening roars, and turned and loped away.

  The sheriff joined Ginger a few minutes later. He left behind Jax and the other deputy, parked in their patrol car.

  As they drove away, Ginger said, “Okay, I get it now. You can’t have anyone challenging your authority as an Alpha because then people like Jax think they can step up and challenge you.”

  “I’m glad you see that. Jax has been making rumbling noises, coming near to challenging me, for months now. He thinks that being diplomatic is the same as being weak. He wants to do everything by force. If I let him have his way, he’d start a war with the panther nation.”

  “Did I make things worse for you that night at the Hoot Owl?”

  “Not too much.”

  “I promise I won’t openly challenge you again.”

  “Openly?” he was smiling now.

  “Oh, come on. I just don’t have it in me to never give you a hard time. And it’s even more fun when I’m being subtle about it.”

  “Speaking of giving me a hard time…did you yell at two old ladies who were walking by the community center? Portia called to inform me of it.”

  Ginger winced. “She really doesn’t like me, does she?”

  “She doesn’t, but that’s not the point.”

  “They were yelling insults at Cletus! Did she mention that? They totally made fun of him. And he didn’t even say anything back to them; it was all me.”

  “No, she did not mention that. However, there are probably ways that you could have responded to them that would have set a better example for Cletus and reflected better on your pack.”

  She pouted as they rode in silence. She was right, damn it! She wished he could have seen the look on Cletus’ face when they mocked him. Grown women, making fun of a skinny young boy.

  Finally, grudgingly, she said, “If it will help maintain your authority, you can punish me for it publicly. However you see fit. ”

  His eyes lit up with a gleam.

  “However I see fit? You sure about that?”

  Her face flushed, the blush spreading all the way down to her toes. Her private parts were probably blushing. What did the devious sheriff have in mind? Nothing good, she was sure, but it was too late to back out now.

  “Ahhhh….yes. I am a woman of my word. However you see fit,” she choked out.

  “All right.” His smile turned sensual and his eyes had a gleam to them that worried her. “The punishment will take place tonight, after work.”

  Did this count as a date? Her mind flashed back to what Marigold had said about punishment and seduction…and how there was a fine line between the two of them.

  Damn it! She hated it when Marigold was right.

  She spent the rest of the day at the office, filing and answering phones, and trying to ignore the feeling of Portia’s angry glare burning holes in the back of her head. At least Jax just ignored her, while Lola came and sat on her desk and peppered her with questions about New York City.

  That evening, Loch dropped her off at the boarding house so he could go home and change.

  Ginger was just in time to help Marigold pick out an outfit for her date with Henry. Marigold deliberately chose jeans and a tank top, to let Henry know she didn’t think the date was any big deal.

  Ginger looked her over and shook her head, frowning. “I hate to tell you this, but you look sexy as hell in that outfit, and Loch also told me that Henry really likes a girl in jeans. What he doesn’t like is frou-frou city girls.”

  “Really?” Marigold stared down at her outfit in dismay. She quickly ripped her clothes off and threw on a low cut, clingy red dress that molded to her slim figure. She climbed into a pair of high heels and put on some sparkly lip gloss, and topped off the look with big gold hoop earrings.

  “Ha! That’ll repel him!” she said triumphantly, watching from the window as his car pulled up out front.

  Ginger walked downstairs with Marigold. “By the way, I made all that up about the jeans,” she told Marigold as Marigold stepped out on to the front porch. “And you look hot in that dress. Ay, caramba! Oops, he’s already getting out of his car, you don’t have time to change.”

  “What?” Marigold’s eyes went wide with shock. “You conniving bitch!”

  “You’ve known me for 8 years, and you’re just now figuring that out? Heh heh.” Ginger cackled an evil laugh and ran back inside the boarding house, leaving Marigold alone as Henry walked up the flagstone path to the porch.

  A rustling in the hallway behind her made her start, and she turned.

  Winifred was standing there, looking perturbed. As usual, she had her hair pinned up in the pencil-bun. “I was wondering…” she said, wringing her slim hands. “That new person employed by Miss Imogen to assist her with the daily tasks at this domicile…”

  “The hot handyman? What about him?”

  “Are you aware of whether he has any, er, involvement or marital commitment with a member of the opposite sex? Or the same sex?” At Ginger’s startled look, she blushed and muttered “I’m asking for purely academic reasons.”

  “I don’t know. You should ask him. But try to say it in normal-speak, or he won’t understand you. Just say, by the way, do you have a girlfriend? And if he says no, ask him if he’d like to buy you a drink at the Hoot Owl.”

  “Really?” Winifred’s eyes widened at the thought.

  “Absolutely. It’s the 21st century. Sisters are doing it for themselves.” As Winifred opened her mouth to demand an explanation, she held up her hand. “That’s an expression! It means, it’s okay for a girl to ask a guy to ask her out on a date.”

  “Interesting. Very interesting.”<
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  “Hold on.” Ginger reached out and grabbed the pencils out of Winifred’s hair bun, and handed the pencils to her as her golden locks tumbled down over her shoulders.

  “Never do the pencil thing again,” Ginger told her. “Especially when you’re talking to the handyman.” She reached out and unbuttoned the top four buttons of Winifred’s oxford shirt. “Okay, now you’re good.”

  Winifred nodded, stuffing the pencils into her shirt pocket. “Thank you. This has been a most illuminating conversation.” She wandered back into the house with a thoughtful look on her face.

  Loch pulled up a few minutes later, sexy as sin in jeans and a white t-shirt. Ginger still wore her floral pink skirt and scoop neck shirt.

  “Should I have changed?” she asked nervously, as they drove.

  “You look beautiful.”

  Her heart leapt in her throat. Her palms were damp with sweat and she struggled to control her breathing. Right now she was both terrified and fascinated by the sheriff, and so turned on that she wanted to tear her clothes off and crawl on top of him.

  Down, girl, she told herself.

  “Where exactly is this punishment taking place?” They were driving out of town, down a dark country road with no illumination but the glow of the moon and the car’s headlights.

  “Now, why would I tell you and spoil all of my fun? Besides, the anticipation’s part of your punishment.”

  “You’re kind of a sadist, you know that?” she grumbled.

  “Is that right? Think about that before you smart-mouth someone, next time.” He was grinning hugely, enjoying himself way too much.

  He took her down a small country road and into a wooded cove, to a non-descript warehouse style building. There were several dozen cars in the dimly lit parking lot.

  “What is this place?” she asked him as they climbed out.

  “It’s a private, members only club. I wanted to bring you here for a couple of reasons. I know you tend to bristle at authority sometimes, that you think I’m too dominant and overbearing.”

  “Sometimes,” she muttered, blushing.

  “I wanted to show you that being dominant isn’t all bad. It has its place, and its purpose. It can be very…pleasurable under the right circumstances.”

  She stared up at him. Did he mean what she thought he meant? Was it…that kind of club?

  Her heart was beating a million miles a minute, and she felt moisture soaking her panties. She didn’t bother to fold her arms over her nipples, which were swollen and straining against the fabric of her t-shirt, two sensitive pink nubs that yearned for Loch’s mouth to suck on them.

  “I…” she was speechless.

  “But if you don’t want to go in, that’s all right too. I would only want you to go in if you feel comfortable doing it.”

  She swallowed hard.

  “Will you be with me the whole time?” she asked, her heart hammering against her rib cage.

  “Of course. Every second. I wouldn’t leave you.”

  “I want to go in,” she breathed.

  She followed him through the doorway, in a daze.

  They walked down a long hallway, and inside, they stepped into a very large open room.

  A room that was a dominant’s heaven. And a submissive’s too, for that matter.

  There were padded benches and pommel horses and restraint stations of all type set up around the room. Chains dangled from the ceiling. On the walls were racks holding floggers and paddles and ball gags. The lighting was low and red-tinged. Music drifted from hidden speakers, an ominous instrumental soundtrack that Ginger didn’t recognize.

  Muscular men in leather were enthusiastically punishing women who were tied down in various positions…and the women were moaning with pleasure.

  The sheriff glanced over at her. “You okay with this?”

  “I…yes. I mean, I’ve never done anything like this, but…yes.”

  Her voice was husky with desire. She was surprised with how okay with it she was. More than okay. The idea of Loch tying her to one of those frameworks and caressing her with the leather tendrils of a flogger…she let out a small involuntary whimper of desire as she pictured it.

  “I’m glad I’m your first.” His eyes twinkled as he looked down at her.

  “Me too. I trust you. I couldn’t do this with anyone else,” she told him, looking around the room.

  She suddenly realized that she recognized someone…Jax. He was stripped to the waist, revealing magnificent muscles. His partner was a beautiful redhead, naked except for a tiny g-string and a pair of spike heels. Her hands were tied together and stretched above her head, as she dangled from an overhead chain. Jax was standing back, flicking at her back with a rawhide whip that left red stripes criss-crossing her back.

  With every strike of the whip, she let out an orgasmic cry.

  Loch skimmed his fingers lightly over Ginger’s back, and she shivered and bit her lip, her breath quickening. “This way,” he said.

  He led her over to a wooden frame that had metal rings fixed to it at strategic places, with ropes dangling from them, and he positioned her by two of the metal rings.

  Then, he tied each wrist to a rope and adjusted them until her arms were stretched over her head. She was facing the wall, with no idea of what he’d do next. The anticipation made her shiver. She wanted his hands on her so badly, wanted to feel his muscular body crushing her up against him…

  He grabbed the waistband of her skirt and pulled it down until it lay on the floor, puddled around her ankles. She was wearing pink lacy hipster underwear that exposed most of her generously sized rear end.

  He ran his fingers slowly over the skin of her right butt cheek, fingers lovingly tracing the ivory globe. Trails of pleasure sizzled in the path of his fingers, shooting through all the nerves in her body, down to her fingertips and toes. Her pussy throbbed with need. She bit back a moan and squirmed where she stood.

  “You’re going to count out loud for each stroke,” he told her. She glanced back and realized that he was holding a paddle in his hand, and she tensed in anticipation. “If you don’t count, then the stroke doesn’t count. Got it?” His voice cracked through the air, stern and authoritative.

  “Yes,” she whimpered.

  Please. Do it, she thought.

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Suddenly she felt a sharp thwack on her right butt cheek, and felt mingled pleasure and pain sizzling through her body.

  “One!” she cried out quickly.

  “Louder. You get nine more strokes,” he said. He swung the paddle again, and she cried out, letting out a moan. “Two,” she cried out. He moved to a different spot and smacked the paddle onto her butt check. “Three,” she yelled, dancing in place.

  Again, and she could feel the hot blossom of pain blooming where he’d struck, but it felt so right.

  “Four!”

  “Still not loud enough, Ginger.”

  He moved the paddle again, and she gasped out loud as it struck her sensitive flesh, and glowing embers of pleasure bloomed inside her. “Five!”she yelled at the top of her lungs.

  “Ahh, that’s much better. You’re learning,” he said.

  “Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!” she called out, loudly.

  “Very good, Ginger,” he said in a voice grown husky with desire, and then traced his fingers over the spot he’d just struck.

  He knelt down behind her and ran his tongue along her stinging flesh. “Mmmmm,” she moaned, not even trying to hide her pleasure any more as he caressed her heated skin with swirling strokes of his tongue.

  Then he stood up again, and resumed paddling her. Each strike sent lightning bolt of pleasure jolting through her body. She whimpered in pleasure, a ball of heat curling up in her abdomen.

  “Five!” She clenched her teeth. When the paddle made contact with her bottom, the pleasure shot through her entire body, and she could feel heat pooling in her abdomen, below her navel. Her nerve
s were alive, crackling with desire, craving the sting of the paddle.

  He was going to make her come. Right here, in front of everyone.

  There were a crowd of men and women watching now, and she was breathing hard, gasping with pleasure.

  Oddly she wasn’t self-conscious. Maybe it was the way the men looked at her here, as if she were incredibly sexy and they were turned on just by looking at her.

  Several more paddle strokes and she couldn’t help herself. The final paddle stroke sent her over the edge. “Ten!” she screamed, and she felt the ball of heat explode inside her, shooting sparks throughout her body, and wave after wave of orgasm swept through her. She whimpered and shuddered as she dangled helplessly from the ropes. “Oh, oh, oh,” she gasped. Her panties were absolutely soaked.

  When Loch untied her, she moaned with release and slumped into his arms. He held her up easily, his muscular arms wrapping around her, and she breathed in his scent, desire already rising inside her again. More. She craved more. She pressed herself against him, loving the feeling of his steel-hard muscles, the tightening of his arms.

  What would he do to her next? The flogger? Nipple clamps? There were so many parts of her body that he hadn’t punished yet.

  “Put your skirt on,” he commanded in a low growl. She bent down and quickly pulled her skirt back up. Her backside pulsed from the swatting she’d just received; she felt as if her skin were glowing red right through the cloth.

  Suddenly she found him moving her quickly towards the door.

  “Hey, Loch, can I play with her now?” A leather-clad wolf shifter stepped up eagerly, blocking their path.

  Loch replied with a growl that raised the hair on the back of Ginger’s neck, and the shifter leaped back, alarmed. Loch rushed her through the front door and into the parking lot.

  She stood there in the warm, humid, night air, bewildered and shaken.

  “What…what’s wrong?” she stammered.

  “Give me a minute.” Loch staggered back several steps. He was breathing hard, his eyes were glowing amber, his ears had started to lengthen and turn pointy. She could see him struggling to regain control of himself.