Claimed by the Beast

by Natasha Knight

  “Do you know what it does to me to watch you stand there like that?” he asked, kissing her cheek, her jaw. He was naked behind her, she could feel his cock pressing against her back. His hands held her buttocks and spread her open. She widened her stance and he slid into her from behind, her pussy slick and ready for him.

  “Oh, God…” she managed when he took hold of her nub. Her ass was full with the plug, her pussy with his cock, and his hand now dealt roughly with her clit. She was going to come. That or lose her mind.

  “Don’t come until I’m inside your ass.”

  “Yes, sir,” she squeaked.

  “Put your hands up against the wall and walk your hips back a little,” he said, still inside her, still moving slowly, sliding the length of his cock deep inside her then pulling out, then in again. She put her hands on the wall and moved backward, keeping him inside her as she did.

  “Good girl. God, you’ve got a great ass, baby,” he said, taking hold of the plug and teasing her with it then slowly pulling it out altogether. “Are you ready for me to fuck your ass?”

  “Yes, sir. Yes, please.”

  With that, he pulled his now slick cock out of her pussy and pressed it into her back hole. Resistance was minimal as the plug had prepared the way, but his cock was bigger, thicker, and longer. She pressed against him, loving the feel of his fullness there, especially as one hand still worked her clit. She lifted her hips to him, giving herself to him, opening to him, accepting the pain as he penetrated deeply, relishing that pain, knowing that as she gave this part of herself to him, so she gave her whole self. She belonged to him and she would take the pain he gave her along with the pleasure.

  When he had penetrated fully, he stopped moving for a moment, allowing her time to adjust to his size. He then began to pump in and out, slowly at first, then gaining speed, holding onto her hips tightly, his fingers digging into her, spreading her wider as he fucked her harder, until they both called out with the final thrusts, her muscles clenching around his cock, milking it, drawing everything he had inside her.

  Chapter Five

  Lance sat behind his desk looking at the computer screen but seeing nothing. His mind was busy going over the events of the last months. It had been just over eight weeks since he’d injected himself with the serum and since then, he had taken lesser doses of the stuff weekly. It had been four weeks since he’d stopped taking his Parkinson’s medication. Four weeks and he felt stronger than he had twenty years ago when he was in the prime of his youth. He smiled, scanning the room around him. He barely needed to wear his glasses anymore. Even his vision was sharper, almost too sharp sometimes. Aside from the occasional sudden, intense pain and vertigo he experienced, the experiment was a success and he hoped that soon enough, he wouldn’t need to take the serum at all. The Parkinson’s was in decline. Truly, it was gone altogether. His doctor would say it was a miracle. But he wasn’t ready for that step just yet. He needed to give it more time.

  There were two things that worried him: this strange pain and the nightmares he had been having. The pain would come on suddenly, without the slightest warning. It only lasted a few moments, but lately he would need to lie down or at least close his eyes for some time to recover. It was a blinding, sharp pain that seemed to sit just behind his eyes, filling his ears with a ringing that was unbearable for the brief moments it lasted. Though those moments were brief, the episodes were coming more frequently and that was what worried Lance.

  The nightmares were a different story. He had had four this week. Three the week before. At first, they’d been small segments of a dream. Gradually, he began waking in different parts of the house without any knowledge of how he got there. One morning, he had woken with red stained hands. That had frightened him the most but when he had gone downstairs, he found the cause of the red. It was blood from the remnants of a raw steak he had found on the counter. The meat had been torn as if someone had bitten savagely from it. Pieces were strewn about and the kitchen was in disarray. He had no memory of how he had done it but had no doubt that it must have been him; all doors and windows were locked and nothing else had been disturbed. The thought that he had eaten the raw meat would have turned his stomach not two months before, but in a strange way, that fact didn’t bother him like he thought it should. It didn’t make sense, but it just didn’t bother him.

  The phone on his desk rang and brought him back to the present.

  “This is Professor Weston,” he said, picking it up.

  “Good morning Lance, it’s John. John Dennison.”

  Dr. John Dennison owned Wayne Laboratories, the same lab who had funded the initial research Philip and then Eric Maddox had been working on before Maddox’s obsession with breeding the shifters came into play. Dennison wasn’t interested in that part. He was only interested in what would make him rich. Or richer. And that was Lance’s serum, the one that would cure this disease and who knew how many others.

  “I’ve arranged for everything you need, Lance, and I’d like to start testing the cure as soon as possible. I’d like for you to relocate out here, at least for the time being. Let’s get this drug perfected and on the market fast.”

  Lance heard him take a sip of his drink.

  “Help save some lives,” Dennison added. An afterthought.

  “I’m anxious myself, John. How about the middle of next week? I have to tie up some loose ends here, free myself up for the next few months.”

  There was a knock on the door and Judy peeked her head inside. Lance nodded for her to enter.

  “All right, I’ll have my secretary arrange your flights. She’ll be in touch later today,” Dennison said.

  “Great. Looking forward to working with you,” Lance said.

  “Same.”

  The men hung up the phone and Lance turned his attention to Judy who stood nervously at the threshold of the door holding a file. He looked at her, his gaze running the length of her for maybe the first time since she’d started interning at the lab. She wasn’t a wholly unattractive girl. In fact, today she looked more than a little interesting to him.

  “Come in and close the door, Judy,” Lance said.

  “I hope I wasn’t interrupting, Professor,” she replied as she entered and closed the door behind her. She was nervous, he could hear it in her tone. It made one side of his mouth go up into an almost smile.

  “Did you find the file I was looking for?” he asked as she made her way to his desk, the click of her heels too loud, his every sense heightened since the day he’d taken the serum.

  “Yes, sir,” she began. She continued talking but he stopped listening to her words, hearing only the tone of her voice, like an annoying, constant buzz. But when she came to stand on the other side of the desk and he took a breath, he rose to his feet. Her scent drew him. Although he had never been sexually attracted to her, today something was different and his cock stirred. He knew instantly what that scent was: she was ovulating.

  “Thank you, Judy,” he said, coming around the desk, reaching out to take the file from her. His hand touched hers and he stepped just a little closer. Just close enough to make her uncomfortable. “How long have you been interning here now?” he asked, walking around her, keeping inches from her. She remained still, not turning with him. Her heartbeat had picked up, he could hear it. She was nervous and he liked it.

  “Just over four months, Professor.”

  He stood behind her and inhaled once more.

  “You work an awful lot of hours, sometimes even beating me in. Does it interfere with your studies?”

  He watched her throat work as she swallowed. “I… no, sir. I like my work here.” She turned to look at him over her shoulder. “I feel honored to work with you, Professor. You’ve taught me so much.”

  He smiled, dropping his gaze to her chest, hovering there while he knew she watched. Her breasts were plump, full, her skin pale and soft beneath the lab coat she wore. He made a sound and returne
d his gaze to hers to find her dark, unremarkable eyes wide on his.

  “What about your boyfriend, Judy? Doesn’t he mind you spending so many hours here with a boring old professor rather than with him?”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend, sir,” she said shyly, looking down as her cheeks flushed red.

  He walked backwards to the door and turned the lock. When she heard it, her panicked gaze returned to his.

  “I don’t believe that,” he said, walking back toward her quickly before she could say anything. “You’re a very pretty girl,” he lied. She stood still when he touched the backs of two knuckles to her neck and reached to unbutton the first button of her lab coat. “Nice little figure under here, I’m guessing?” he said, smiling, his eyes on hers, daring her to stop him.

  She did not, could not, he imagined. He stepped even closer once the coat was undone. She was small and he towered over her. He liked the feel of that, the idea of his largeness next to her small, weak, feminine body. He slid the coat off her shoulders and brought his face to hers, his mouth to hers. She remained as she was, her hands at her sides, but she allowed him to kiss her and gasped when, after the kiss, his tongue flicked over her lips once more before he took her lower lip between his and sucked, nibbling just a little although his mouth watered at the idea of biting her hard enough to draw blood.

  “Professor,” she began when he pulled back and reached for the hem of her sweater.

  “Yes, Judy?” he asked, pulling it over her head and discarding it.

  “What are you doing? I don’t think…”

  He next slid her skirt down her thighs, scanned her pale, soft, naked thighs, the lacy peach colored panties that matched her bra. “You don’t think what?” he asked, taking a step even closer, backing her against his desk.

  She only made a sound when he once again covered her mouth with his while simultaneously taking off his own lab coat and button-down shirt.

  “You know what I’d like to do to you, Judy?” he asked, his mouth greedy on hers now as he tore her bra apart, freeing her breasts, the soft mounds bouncing, the dark nipples already hard even before he took one into his mouth while pinching the other harshly.

  Judy gasped and he smiled, holding onto her nipple, keeping the pressure there while he sucked on the other, drawing the hardened point out.

  He straightened, feeling flushed and hot, needing more, needing her heat, needing to fuck her. He unbuckled his pants quickly and released his cock while she watched, almost dumbstruck. He grabbed her breasts roughly and kneaded them, pressing his cock to her naked stomach. She put her hands to his chest but didn’t push him away. He turned her quickly and pushed her over his desk, holding her down with one hand at the back of her neck while he pushed her panties down with the other.

  “Professor!” she managed.

  His hand covered her cunt and he leaned over her back so his mouth was at her ear. “You’re wet,” he whispered. “Ready for me.”

  She made a sound when he straightened and he didn’t need to hold her down anymore. He gripped her hips with both hands roughly and kicked her legs apart to stand between them. Without a moment of hesitation, without a moment of tenderness or softness, he pushed his cock into her pussy, slamming his hips against her buttocks and relishing her tight heat for a moment as he stilled deep inside her. An animal growl came from his chest and, unable to resist, he fucked her hard, thrusting into her while spreading her open with his hands, the juices of her pussy dripping down her thighs, coating his cock, his legs.

  She moaned beneath him as his cock grew thicker inside her with his final thrusts and when he came, the sensation was different than any orgasm he’d had before. It was better, fuller, harder, and the thought he’d filled her with his seed was almost too much.

  Once he’d emptied himself fully, he pulled out slowly, a drop of sweat falling from his forehead onto her back. She straightened slowly and he watched her do so, looking almost confused as to what had just happened. He tucked himself back into his pants and stepped back, not sure if he should apologize. She turned to look at him, still slightly bent forward. Her mascara had run and her hair was ruffled.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, reaching for a stack of paper towels and handing them to her.

  She nodded but barely and took them from him.

  “Excuse me, Judy,” he said, pulling his shirt on and taking his jacket. “I have to go.” He brushed a hand through his hair. “Just… you can use my bathroom to clean up… if you’d like.”

  She could only stare at him and he had to turn away, unable to look at her, wondering what he had just done. Wondering what had come over him to behave as he had with an intern. A young intern who trusted him.

  “Professor?” came a voice behind him when he reached the door to the stairwell. It was Doug but he didn’t turn, pretending he hadn’t heard as he pulled the door open and quickly exited the building.

  His drive home was a blur. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, what had come over him that he’d done such a thing, but when the pain began at the back of his eyes, Lance no longer cared. He could think of nothing other than the pain.

  He pulled the car over to the side of the road and grabbed his head. This was the worst he’d had yet. He climbed out of his car, the world spinning around him. He stumbled for a moment, then righted himself and made his way into the wooded area along the end of his street. The pain then grew so bad that he called out, dropping to his knees as he grabbed his head, his vision deserting him altogether now. When he thought his head was going to split open, he screamed, the tearing of clothes the last sound he heard before he lost consciousness.

  Chapter Six

  Rachel sat watching TV in the living room when she heard the sound. She grabbed the remote control and hit mute to listen for it again. It was a scream, a wild scream. An animal scream.

  She went to the door and opened it to look outside. The sun had just gone down and the street lights hadn’t come on just yet. Most of her neighbors were still at work and the street was eerily deserted. She stepped outside, forcing herself to concentrate just on that one sound she’d heard and it came again. It was a roar now rather than a scream and it chilled her through. Looking into the woods, she took a step backwards into her house and bolted her door. She then reached for the cell phone in her purse, her hands trembling. She scrolled down through the names until she found Elijah’s and hit Call.

  “Did you hear it too?” came his voice as soon as the call connected.

  “Yes. What the hell was that?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “It wasn’t Marcus. We would have known,” she said. “I can’t tell how close it was and it’s gone now.”

  “Stay inside and lock your doors. I’m bringing Kayla and the baby over, then I’ll go out to investigate.”

  “Hurry, okay?” she asked. Something was wrong, she could feel it in her every cell. The sound she had heard was not human but it was also not animal. Not any natural animal at least.

  “I will.”

  They hung up the phone and Rachel stood at the window, looking out into the quickly darkening night to wait.

  * * *

  Marcus stilled and looked to the door. Concentrating, he forced the sounds around him to stop and listened for what he’d heard. Well, not quite heard physically. It was something else. He’d felt the scream. It was too far from him, but it was somehow familiar, familial.

  “Hey, where you goin’, hon?” someone asked.

  He stopped and turned, looking at the woman beside him, pointedly glancing at her hand which rested possessively on his arm. His expression must have conveyed the message he wanted to send because in the next moment, she removed her hand and smiled a nervous smile.

  He on the other hand didn’t smile or even make any attempt at being polite. Instead, he got up and walked out of the bar and kept walking. Finding a pay phone, he fished out some coins and dialed a num
ber he hadn’t dialed in more than a year.

  “Brother,” he said when Elijah answered. It was silent for a long time and he wondered if he had been disconnected. “You there?” Marcus asked.

  “Marcus,” Elijah finally managed. “Where are you?”

  He looked out over the quiet street. He ran a hand through his hair. Had it been a bad idea to call his brother? “Doesn’t matter. I heard something.”

  He could hear Elijah’s frustrated exhale through the phone. “We heard it too.”

  Marcus purposely dismissed the ‘we’. “Any idea what it was? Is everything okay over there?”

  “I don’t know. I’m heading over to Rachel’s now to make sure she’s safe before I go out to investigate. I’m not sure where it came from but it wasn’t as far away as I’d like. It would sure be nice to have some company while I’m out there looking for the source of the noise.”

  Marcus ignored that altogether. “How is Rachel?” he asked, unable not to. He could still easily picture her, her face on that last day, how she’d tried to smile through her tears while telling him she understood as he walked out of her house and out of her life.

  “She needs you.”

  Just then a recording came on asking for more money. Marcus fished into his pocket and dug out anther quarter. He pressed it into the slot.

  “I don’t have any more change,” he said. “If we’re disconnected…”

  * * *

  Elijah squeezed the phone hard in his palm. “Damn it, Marcus, you should be here. You should be here with us. Rachel’s not good if you really want to know. Ended up at the hospital the other night after a drunk drove her into a tree…”