The eleventh landed and she rounded her back, clenching her buttocks, shifting from foot to foot. How was it possible these hurt even more?
“Eleven,” she said through her tears.
“Hollow out your back and unclench your bottom. You know better than this.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, but the unclenching was hard.
“We’re getting back on a maintenance schedule, Kayla. Every Friday night,” he said as the belt cut into her.
“Twelve.” What had he said? She couldn’t get beyond the pain of her punishment for his words to register.
The next two strokes came so fast after each other that she barely had time to count. The last caught her across the tops of her thighs and she let herself fall forward for a moment before resuming her position, knowing he’d want her to remain as she was until he dismissed her. “Fifteen,” she said, quietly sniffling.
She didn’t look up when the belt landed on the couch in front of her. It was over, her punishment.
She sucked in a breath when she felt his hand on her buttock, caressing what she knew were welts. “You’ll feel these for a few days, I think,” he said, touching another one. “If you ever lie to me or even think about lying to me again, no matter your reason, the belt will be a warm up, is that clear?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” she managed, crying now not only for the pain but for the fact she’d broken his trust. “I’m sorry.”
He left her there for a few moments as he walked to the kitchen and drank a glass of water. He then walked behind her and his hand was on one burning cheek, spreading her open. She heard him unzip his pants and for as much pain as she’d been in moments ago, for as humiliating as her position was, her pussy reacted.
His other hand was on her other cheek and he pulled her cheeks wide. He then pressed the huge head of his cock against her pussy and pushed hard. She groaned, his cock too thick and her passage too tight after nearly a week without sex. He didn’t stop though and he didn’t move gently. Instead, he pushed her deeper into the couch, gripped her hips, and fucked her hard, coming quickly after several powerful thrusts. When he pulled out of her, she stayed bent over, feeling semen leak out of her and drip down her thighs while listening to him zip his pants.
She remained as she was while he stood behind her. She looked up to watch him walk into the kitchen but dropped her gaze when he tore off several paper towels and returned to stand behind her, wiping at her tender thighs, cleaning her. He discarded the towels, taking his time to return to her. All the while, her bottom throbbed.
“Pull up your pants and panties and straighten up,” he said.
She did and turned to look at him.
He put his hands on either side of her face and kissed her tears. She leaned into him while he held her.
“I know you meant well, but you know better,” he said.
She nodded, her face still in his hands.
“I don’t ever want to come home from a trip and have to punish my wife first thing again.”
“You won’t have to, I promise.”
“Good,” he said, pulling her in for a tight embrace as he rubbed her back. “I love you, Kayla. If something had happened… I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“I love you too, Elijah.”
“Come on, let’s go get some sleep.”
“Am I forgiven?” she asked.
He nodded. “I can’t stay mad at you,” he said, hugging her once more.
Chapter Two
Professor Lance Weston sat behind his desk studying the same file he’d been studying for the last hour.
“Good night, Professor Weston,” one of the interns called out.
Lance turned in his direction. “Good night, Doug. See you tomorrow.”
“Don’t work too hard,” joked Doug.
Lance smiled and watched him climb onto the elevator. Once the doors closed behind him, he collected the key he needed and stood. His left hand shook just a little and he shoved it into his pocket. No one was left to see it now. He didn’t need to hide the trembling but he did anyway. He hated it, hated the disease that had already stolen so much and would, in time, kill him. His grandfather had died of it within five years of its onset and this was year three for Lance. Parkinson’s came on quickly in his family but he was close to a cure, he was sure of it. His medications to control the trembling were heavy and the side effects caused too great an impact on his life. No, he needed a different sort of solution. Eric Maddox had been on the right track but his murder and the explosions that had destroyed all of their research, not to mention samples, had set Lance back. He had managed to salvage a small piece of tissue sample, and although he knew shifters still walked the earth, they were about as accessible to him as the moon.
But he had done well with the samples he had. He was close and if his test later this week proved a success, he could be finished with the illness forever. Hell, he’d become a millionaire.
* * *
Elijah was unable to sleep and so at six am, he climbed quietly out of bed, wrote a note for Kayla, and left. As several inches of snow covered the roads, he stripped off his clothes and walked into the woods behind their home. There, he shifted, navigating the deep snow easily in wolf form as he ran toward Rachel’s house.
It had been a long time since he had shifted and it was invigorating.
He tried now, as he always did, to hear Marcus. To send him a message. To receive at least some word, some small indication that his younger brother was still alive somewhere. A part of him understood Marcus’s reluctance to return—eight years in captivity watching your brother slowly mutilated after witnessing the brutal murders of your entire family could damage the strongest of men. Phillip and Eric had destroyed a part of Marcus as surely as they had killed the rest of Elijah’s family. But damn it, it was time for him to return! Rachel needed him. Couldn’t he feel that? Didn’t he know it? They were bonded. Rachel was different than Kayla. Her family carried a specific and unique gene—one that gave them access into the telepathic communication lines of his pack. Rachel knew how to use those powers, he was certain of it. And that thought only served to solidify the other thought that had been nagging at him for too long: the thought that Marcus might be dead.
Elijah roared and took off in a hard run. It was time to take care of his family and Rachel was very much a part of that family. She needed guidance. Kayla’s touch was sweet and soft, but now, it was time for a firm hand.
The house was still dark and quiet when he approached. He shifted back to his human form and, using the key he kept hidden in the backyard, he let himself into the house. He listened for her and could hear the soft sounds of sleep coming from upstairs. His mind drifted to Clarissa for a moment and the sounds she would make when she slept, how she snuggled up against him whenever he held her, how she looked at him, really looked at him.
He smiled and went to the spare room where he kept a set of clothes for himself and dressed. Returning to the kitchen, he switched on a light, shook his head at the mess and put on a pot of coffee. The living room was in slightly better condition and once the coffee was ready, he poured a cup and sat down to wait for Rachel to wake.
* * *
Rachel opened her eyes but remained perfectly still. Someone was in the house. She felt it even though when she listened, she heard nothing more than the usual sounds. She sat up slowly and inhaled the scent of coffee. Pushing the covers off, she climbed out of bed, picked up the baseball bat she kept by her bed and headed to the stairs.
An intruder wouldn’t make coffee. She knew that much. But the memory of the men who had come for Kayla still frightened her and she proceeded with caution down the stairs.
“Coffee?”
Rachel jumped and let out a small scream just as Elijah turned on a lamp. “What are you doing, trying to give me a heart attack?” she asked, taking the last two steps into the living room.
Elijah smiled and
stood from his seat on the couch.
“What time is it and why are you sitting in the dark?” she asked.
“It’s about seven in the morning and I didn’t want to wake you,” he said, taking a few steps closer to her. “I never see you anymore and you never call so I figured if I wanted to catch up with you, best to invite myself. How are you, Rachel?”
She set the bat down and touched a hand to her bandage when she saw him glance at it.
“Been better. You?” she asked, knowing he knew what had happened. He had to know.
“I’m all right. Traveling some with work, but Kayla would have told you that last night.”
Rachel turned away for a moment. “I need a cup of coffee,” she said.
He studied her and what she saw in his eyes was far from the anger she expected. “Sit down, I’ll get you a cup.”
She nodded and took a seat on the sofa. Elijah returned a few moments later with a mug of steaming coffee and handed it to her.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, taking a seat next to her. He waited until she took a sip before proceeding. “Mind telling me what happened last night? Why my wife had to take our baby out in that weather and come pick you up at the hospital?”
Now there was a slight edge to his voice. She handed her coffee to him and he set it down on the coffee table.
“I was in a car accident. I didn’t know who else to call.”
“How about me?”
She shrugged her shoulders but couldn’t meet his gaze.
“Hey, look at me,” he said.
She did.
“Don’t shrug your shoulders at me. You didn’t call me because you didn’t want me to find out the guy you’d been in the car with was drunk. You do realize how lucky you were, don’t you?” he asked. All the while she was unable to meet his eyes.
“Lucky? Yeah, right.”
“Listen, Rachel, you’re like a sister to me, you know that. What’s happening with Marcus—I’m sorry for that.”
He took her hand but she still couldn’t look at him. Instead she bit her lip, trying not to let herself cry.
“I don’t know what to tell you about that and I feel for you,” he continued, “but it’s time to move forward.”
She could only shake her head as she wiped the back of one hand across her eyes.
“Look at me, Rachel.”
She turned to him.
“Look around. Your house is a mess, you’ve lost too much weight, you’re hanging out with people that are no good for you, smoking pot, drinking, and I don’t know what else. What are you trying to do?”
Her face contorted in pain but she shook it off. “What am I trying to do?” she started, her tone angrier than she expected it to be. She stood to walk away but Elijah pulled her back down onto the sofa. “I’m trying to fucking survive, Elijah. What does it matter to you anyway? Just go, you don’t have to be here feeling sorry for me. I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not fine.”
She tried to pull her wrist free but he still held on to it, applying a little more pressure.
“Let me go!”
“Damn it, look at me, Rachel.”
“What do you want with me?” she yelled, still trying to free herself.
“I didn’t want to have to do this but I don’t know how else to get through to you.”
Before she could process what was happening, Elijah tugged at her arm, pulling her face down across his lap.
“What are you doing?” She yelled, kicking her legs, trying to free herself of this unexpected maneuver.
“I’m giving you what you need,” he said, gripping both her wrists in one hand and holding them at her low back while simultaneously laying one leg over the backs of her knees, trapping her so that she lay with her torso leaning over one side of his lap, her legs the other.
“Let me go!” she screamed, trying in vain to free herself. The sound of his hand slapping her bottom hard stilled her momentarily. Then the pain registered, and between that and the fact that he was spanking her, all she could do was gasp for breath, unable to form words.
He struck again on her other cheek, then two more times and she resumed her attempts to free herself.
“I should have done this a long time ago, Rachel,” he said, continuing to spank her.
“No, you should not have! Stop. You can’t do this.”
Without any ceremony at all, she felt Elijah’s hand lift her nightshirt up to her low back.
“No!” she called out again. “Elijah!”
“I’m sorry, Rachel, but you need this and you’re going to take it,” he said, his hands at the waistband of her panties now. “While Marcus isn’t here to do this for you, I’ll fill in for him.”
“He wouldn’t! Please don’t, Elijah. Not bare!”
But before the words were even out, he’d pulled her panties down to her knees and he began to spank in earnest. The sound of his hand slapping her bare bottom was loud and she knew she’d never forget that sound for as long as she lived. Add to it the embarrassment of her situation as well as the growing sting of her punishment as he struck the same spots over and over again and she could barely manage the emotions that rose up like a volcano from her throat.
“Cry, Rachel. Stop struggling and let yourself cry.”
She fought harder at his words, determined to keep that eruption at bay even as the fiery sting of blow after blow became harder and harder to manage. He covered both cheeks, sometimes slapping twice or three times in the same spot before moving on, sometimes spanking hard and fast on alternating cheeks.
“You’re really hurting me!” she yelled.
“Stop fighting and take it.”
She was sure her bottom was bright red and couldn’t decide what was worse, the humiliating position, the idea of Elijah having taken her panties down to her knees to spank her, or the pain of the spanking itself. But when he started in on her thighs, she determined it was the latter.
She made some sound as she tried to squirm around, no longer fighting with the same zeal. Tears began to pour from her eyes. He seemed to strike harder until she finally stopped struggling and allowed her body to go limp over his lap.
She was grunting with each stroke now and sniffling as the crying turned into all out sobbing. He released her hands but continued to spank her and she brought one hand to the floor to support herself while with the other, she wiped her face, trying to keep up with the onslaught of tears.
“Good. Let it go, Rachel, just get it all out.”
“I don’t… understand…” she was gasping for breath between sobs that now racked her body, “why he left. Why he disappeared like that.”
Elijah stopped at that. “Enough?” he asked, his voice gentle again.
She nodded and sniffled. He pulled up her panties and lifted her to sit next to him on the couch.
“I don’t understand why he won’t come back,” she managed between sobs as Elijah wiped the hair off her wet face. “And I don’t know if he can come back.” At that she broke down fully and he hugged her to him. “I mean… if he could at least… if I just knew.”
“Shh, I know Rachel, I know. I can’t hear him either,” he said, holding her tight in his arms.
“I’m sorry for last night. I’m sorry I called Kayla to get me. I was being selfish and stupid and I knew you’d be so mad.”
“Shh, I know you’re sorry. It’s okay, Rachel.”
For the first time since she’d said goodbye to Marcus, Rachel let herself feel the pain of his loss, she allowed herself to just give over to it and cry and cry until finally, there weren’t any tears left and her body shook with every breath she tried to take. All the while, Elijah held her until finally, she was able to pull back, having regained herself.
“That hurt,” she said, trying for a small smile.
Elijah smiled. “I imagine it did.”
Her face grew ver
y serious again. “Do you think he’s dead?” she asked outright.
The expression on Elijah’s face told her he was thinking what she was thinking and somehow, even though she thought it impossible, more tears filled her eyes.
“I don’t know, Rachel,” he said. “I feel like I would know but I don’t. And you can’t hear him either? Not at all?”
She shook her head. “Not for a long time.”
They sat together for a few more minutes in silence, neither having words to comfort the other.
“Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight? I’ll come pick you up. Stay with us for a while if you like. We can go up to the cabin for a few days. I can work from there easily enough. Maybe a change will be good for you. Good for all of us,” he said.
“I have to work tonight but I have a few days off coming up. I’d like to go up there again, to the cabin I mean.”
“All right. I’ll arrange some things as well. Sunday then. I’ll pick you up early, we’ll head up there and spend a few days.”
“Okay,” she said, nodding, feeling a little better already, a little lighter.
“I don’t think it’s a great idea for you to hang out with that couple you’ve been going out with,” Elijah began, but she held up her hand to stop him.
“I know that. I’ve known it for a long time. I won’t see them again outside of work.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it,” he said, standing. “You okay if I go?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Um…” she looked down for a moment, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. “Thank you but if you ever do… that… again, I’ll kill you,” she said.
He smiled and pulled her in for another hug before kissing her forehead. “I’ll spank you anytime you need it,” he teased.
“Good to know,” she managed when he let her go.
“Remember it then and don’t earn another one.”
“Yes, sir!” she said, saluting him with flair.
“And get this place cleaned up—it’s a pigsty!”
“Neat freak.”
“Slob.”
Claimed by the Beast Page 2
