by Lora Leigh
A spasm of convulsive reaction shook her womb, taking her breath, as she moaned harshly. She could feel the dampness between her thighs, the ever-present arousal that spiked through her body. The sexual need she could tolerate, she had learned to accept it over the years. It was the blinding pain of the attempts at forced fertility that weakened her mind.
When the contractive shudder eased away she looked around the room. The bedroom was large and almost homey. On the other side of the room an open fireplace burned cheerily, the flames warming the rooms with heated comfort. The bed was canopied, the thick flannel curtains tied back along the rough wood posts. Several comfortable chairs sat on the other side of the room, beside a large chest and dresser.
To her side a door was open to another room, obviously a bathroom. Thank God, she needed one. She checked carefully, she wasn’t restrained in any way. Her wrists weren’t sore, though her feet felt like hell. She pushed the quilts from her body, finally realizing she was dressed in a large T-shirt, but nothing else. She wasn’t going to bitch; she hadn’t been allowed to wear clothes in six months.
She moved weakly to the side of the bed, biting her lip at the pain in her legs and ankles as she swung them from the bed. She dreaded putting any weight on her feet. She could feel their tenderness, the pain awaiting her.
She bit off her cry of agony as she gingerly stood up. Tears filled her eyes and within moments dampened her cheeks as she shuffled to the small room. Once there, she used the toilet, washed her hands and face and glanced longingly at the tub before shaking her head. If she got in, she would never pull herself out.
As she washed her face, she found a clean toothbrush still within its box and worked it free quickly. She felt almost freshened after brushing her teeth and forced herself back to the bed. Her breaths were panting whimpers by the time she sat down on the mattress and managed to pull her legs onto the bed.
She collapsed across it, breathing heavily, trying to relax through the contractions in her abdomen. She felt along the incision, surprised that no blood was leaking free. It was bandaged, obviously stitched closed. She blinked in confusion toward the fireplace, trying to remember, to understand the abrupt changes around her.
No cells, no scientists, no restraints. She breathed in deeply, knowing there was something she had forgotten, something she needed to remember. Shadowed images flickered through her mind. Flames and fear, a blinding heat as she fought to escape. She shook her head, trying to make sense of it.
“You shouldn’t be out of bed. If you had called I would have helped you.”
Fear shocked her system. The breath lodged in her throat as she stared unblinkingly at the fire, trying to deny the voice that had spoken. It wasn’t possible, she assured herself. Not now. Not after all these years.
His voice was colder than it had been in the Mexican Labs. More savage and controlled than she remembered. She licked her lips nervously, wondering if she would survive the savagery she glimpsed in his eyes.
“You can’t ignore me forever, Charity.” Smooth, mocking amusement raked across her nerves as leanly muscled thighs came into her line of vision. Between the jean-clad columns, a thick, hard erection bulged against the snug, low-slung cloth.
Charity swallowed in tight reaction as her nipples peaked, hardening with increased arousal. She fought to breathe through the welcoming shudders in her womb. As though her body had instinctively recognized its sexual master, it began to hum in joy. A joy her mind rejected, the intellectual part of her aware that she may have well escaped the physical pain, but the emotional agony to come could well be worse.
Muscles flexed, his abdomen tightened as he bent his knees, lowering himself until he could stare at her from the bottom of the bed. Her breath hitched in her throat. He was older, his features honed, harder. His eyes were a silver-gray, merciless, as cold as ice.
Black hair fell shaggy and thick around his face as he propped his forearms on the mattress, watching her silently. Satisfaction lined his expression, tormenting, knowing.
“Well,” she cleared her throat weakly. “Out of the frying pan and into the fire.” She commented on her apparent rescue from the Labs, only to find herself now held by the one man she had fought to escape for years.
A thick black brow arched questioningly. “An interesting analogy. Would you like me to contact the Council and return you?”
She flinched. He would, she thought, and likely do so gladly. But which was really worse?
“How did you find me? Did you find the Winged Breeds as well?” she finally bit out when she couldn’t answer her own question. The pain in her womb only fed her anger, fed her sense of desperation.
His expression darkened. “We found them. Do you remember the attack at all? Your escape from the Labs?”
Escape? There had been no rescue? She forced herself to shake her head negatively. “What happened?” Not that she cared at this point. She was free of them, and she would die before going back.
“You somehow managed to escape just before the explosion brought the mountain down. We had already rescued Keegan and the others, but had been unable to get to you. I found you afterwards, nearly unconscious in the jungle.” He watched her closely. The look was so intent she dropped her own gaze.
“How did you find me?” Shards of memory flashed through her mind, making more sense as the seconds passed.
“Keegan led me to you.” His voice was calm, holding little, if any, emotion. The very fact that he appeared so emotionless was more frightening than his anger could have been.
“He should have left me to die,” she grunted sarcastically. “It would have been far kinder.”
“Not to mention less complicated.” Aiden surged to his feet, causing her to flinch in dizzied reaction. “Our doctor has examined you and found no lasting injuries. You’ve been washed, disinfected and stitched. You should be well soon.”
Disinfected. Morbid amusement filled her. As though she had somehow been contagious. She closed her eyes, fighting the overwhelming futility of fighting further. Unfortunately, something inside her refused to allow her to give in. A spark of rage, of anger. Not just at the Council, but at Aiden as well. Had it not been for him and his determination to die too soon, she wouldn’t be in this mess right now.
“Thank you for the update,” she gritted out as she closed her eyes, fighting to breathe through the surging contractions in her abdomen. If he would just go the hell away then she could be miserable in peace.
She heard him sigh roughly. “I can smell the scent of your arousal. You’re horny, Charity.” His voice was edged with frustration.
“Poor me,” she sniped as she gritted her teeth against the pain.
“The scent offends me.” He sounded angry, as though she expected him to relieve the pain.
“Poor you.” She wasn’t about to ask him for anything, even if it was his damned fault. “If it offends you so damned bad then get the hell away from me!” She shot him a look that she hoped showed her rising fury. Like she needed a damned update concerning the state of her own body.
She tensed then as a particularly agonizing bolt of pain tore through her womb. It was getting worse. She fought to control the scream building in her throat, but couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped her lips. Before she could do more than gasp, Aiden flipped her to her back, holding her down, increasing the pain that radiated like a cascade of fireworks through her body.
“Stop,” she wheezed, desperate to curl back into the fetal position she had assumed when the pain first started.
She could feel the cold sweat breaking out on her face, the screams building in her throat. She hated being this weak in front of him, in such pain she was helpless against whatever cruelty he would inflict.
“Do you think you can go on hurting like this?” His question was a hard, rough growl. “The pain is killing you, Charity.”
“Saves you the trouble,” she cried out furiously, fighting her need to arch to him, to rub against him. God, he
was heavy and hard against her, and she needed him so desperately. Alternately, fury whipped at the edges of her mind. He was being less than considerate of a condition that was basically his fault. His next words exploded through her, though, searing past the arousal to an anger bordering on rage.
“Beg me and I’ll ease you.” She glimpsed the cold smile on his face, the flash of his canines.
Finally, mercifully, the pain eased again until she could breathe normally and felt less like vomiting in his face. Bastard, he would have deserved it.
“Fuck you, Aiden,” she snarled.
She brought her knee up fast, not overly hard as the pain left her weak and dazed, but hard enough. His eyes widened as he paled before falling to his side with a groan of pain, his hands going instinctively to his offended cock.
Knowing retaliation would be quick, she tried to roll from the bed, to crawl from him. She couldn’t believe she had struck out. Couldn’t believe she had actually done it. Amusement flashed through her for a second as she remembered the look of horror on his face before a growl of animal fury sounded behind her.
Chapter Five
Pain was pain, she thought, as he gripped her shoulders and jerked her back to the bed. The constant flashes of fire through her body were worse than anything he could inflict on her, short of broken bones.
He came over her, his knees a vice about her legs as he stared down at her with dark, icy calm. She knew she was supposed to be frightened of his anger; she could see it in his eyes, feel it in the waves of fury emanating from him. His assurance that she would cower beneath his rage was there in his self-satisfied expression.
“I won’t beg you, and I won’t cower before you,” she bit out, her teeth gritting as her muscles tightened again in defense of the pain that struck her womb.
She was shaking, perspiration coating her skin as she fought her tears. And Aiden was only making it worse. The touch of his body, his weight holding her down, his hands warm and calloused as he held her wrists above her head, combined to increase her arousal and in return the fiery waves of hunger that swept over her. The pain was brutal, like a fist punch to the gut as her womb spasmed in need.
“You’re so desperate to be fucked that your whole body screams out for it,” he sneered. “You’ll beg soon.”
“Not to you,” she snarled back. “I’d rather fuck a mongrel Coyote than ask you for anything, Aiden. Bastard that you are, you’d leave me hurting anyway.”
He narrowed his eyes as the corner of his upper lip lifted, showing the sharp canine in deadly relief. As though the sight of it frightened her. She would have snorted if she could find the breath to push that much air through her body at one time.
“You will go to no other,” he bit out. “When you decide to ask me nicely for relief, Charity, perhaps I will be nice and extend it.”
He jumped from her then, staring down at her, breathing hard and rough as he watched her. Her eyes went down his body, until her gaze locked on the thick bulge beneath his jeans.
“You’re horny too, Aiden,” she said softly. “Maybe you need to beg me. Ask me politely for relief and perhaps I will extend it.”
She gasped then as a particularly hard contraction tightened her abdomen. She curled quickly on her side, fighting the waves of pain as she felt more of her juices leak from between her thighs.
“Damn you!” she cursed him breathlessly. “It’s your fault. You did this to me, and you hate me for saving your miserable life. Bastard.”
“Is that what you believe, Charity?” He leaned close to her, his teeth bared in his own anger. “That I hate you? I do not hate you, darling, for saving me. I hate you for tying me to you. For taking my choice and my will from me. But more than anything else, I will never forgive you for betraying me as you did, and leaving me helpless in that bitch’s hands. That I won’t forgive you for.”
* * * * *
Aiden stalked from the bedroom, unable to look at her, to smell the sweet scent of her need. She was his mate. He hadn’t truly believed it, had paid little heed to Cian’s claims in the weeks before they attacked the Labs. He hadn’t truly believed. He believed now. Had believed before bringing her to his home. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. It didn’t mean he couldn’t fight it.
He pushed his fingers restlessly through his hair as he heard her moan again. Every muscle in his body tightened in agony. The blood burned in his veins, seared his cock. He ached for her, like nothing he had ever known in his life. And he knew he wouldn’t deny her much longer.
He moved to the stove where a pot of stew bubbled merrily. She had to eat. She was too thin, too weakened to carry a child if she did conceive as Cian had said she would. Right now, he doubted if she could even withstand his lust or the sexual intensity that would come from their mating. What terrified him the most, though, was wondering if she would survive how his body would lock with hers, ensuring his seed every chance to find root within her body.
He heard her moan again. A bleak, pain-ridden sound that tore at his soul. Damn her. He flipped the stove off, setting the pot to a back burner as he flipped the cooking spoon into the sunlit sink. His cock was heavy, fully erect, confined behind the material of his jeans and begging for release. Arousal had never fired his blood with such a firestorm of hunger.
He remembered the day she had coaxed his erection to bursting relief. After taking his first release into her mouth, she had followed Bainesmith’s orders and left the Labs. It was then his hell had truly begun.
Hard, aching for her, his cock had stayed erect, desperate for relief. With mouth and hands, Bainesmith had drained him more than once into her fucking vials for testing. For hours, until he hung limply on that fucking metal cross, sweat dripping from his body as they put his unwilling arousal to hard use.
And he had fucked. Just as they wanted. When they wheeled the unknown woman’s gurney to him, adjusted her to allow the penetration into the hot depths of her pussy, he had fucked her. And fucked her. And still he had not eased. Bainesmith had been more than pleased.
Thankfully though, after the first time Charity had sucked the seed from his body, the further swelling in his thick shaft had not occurred. The fist-sized knot had stayed silent, though he could feel its need just beneath his desperate flesh.
When he was finally returned to his cell, his body thick with sweat, his cock coated with the woman’s sap and his own seed, he could do nothing but collapse onto his cot and swear his vengeance. On Bainesmith and on Charity.
But how do you reap vengeance when it’s your mate?
She cried out again, the sound low, tortured. She was in need. Her body hot and pulsing, pleading silently with him to fill it. The drugs injected into her pushed her natural arousal higher; those injected into her womb increased her fertility. She would carry his child.
His hands trembled as his cock throbbed to the point that he was forced to grip it in defense. He bared his teeth in helplessness. She was his. His mate. And by God, now was as good a time as any to prove it.
Chapter Six
“Do you know what will happen when I take you?” Charity opened her eyes in surprise as Aiden moved to the end of the bed.
Her eyes widened as his shirt drifted to the floor and his hands went to the worn leather belt threaded through the loops of his jeans. Her mouth watered. She could almost sense the hot male taste of his thick, hard flesh. She remembered it clearly, relived it often in her dreams.
“You haven’t asked me politely yet,” she reminded him, trying to snarl then wincing at the thick arousal in her voice. As though he had to ask. She knew when he touched her she would go off like skyrockets.
Her breasts ached now, her nipples feeling more swollen, if that were possible, than ever before.
He released the metal buttons on his jeans, one by one, as her breathing increased.
“Do you know what will happen, Charity?” he asked her again. The heavy warning in his voice had her swallowing tightly with nerves and shades of f
ear.
“I know the basics,” she bit out. “I’m not stupid. And I’m not ready to fuck you yet, either. Beg me, Aiden.” Her womb clenched in protest.
His hands paused. The jeans were undone, yet still covering him.
“You know the basics of Wolf Breed sex?’ he asked her carefully. “You know how I’ll lock inside you?”
She remembered then, the hard knot she had barely kept hidden from the scientists as Aiden shot his seed into her mouth. She trembled, her eyes widening as she stared up at him. Like an animal, he would lock inside her, ensuring his seed had time to reach her fertile womb.
She moaned bleakly. Her eyes closed as she fought the knowledge of what was to come. Now she understood the reasons behind the careful blood tests the scientists had conducted, trying to match her blood to one of the Coyote Breeds stationed there. Looking for a match. A breeding pair. An animal that would lock inside her.
“Don’t touch me.” She jerked away from him as she felt his touch at her shoulder. “Get the hell away from me, damn you.”
She scrambled to the headboard of the bed, refusing to look at him. She fought to ignore the pleading ache in her body, the arousal that only seemed to grow. How the hell was she supposed to bear this if he touched her?
“The pain is killing you, Charity,” he said softly.
Her gaze flickered to him, then away, as he shed his jeans. She shuddered. She knew how thick and hard his cock was, and knew how desperately her body needed it. Her body, her heart, but not her mind. She wasn’t a breeding vessel.
“Aiden, I can’t do this.” She shook her head desperately. “Please, please leave me alone. The pain will go away…”
“I remember a time when I begged you similarly,” he reminded her coolly. “Do you remember that time, Charity? Yet, you sucked me to my release regardless, and then left me to suffer the agony of needing only your body, and being forced to accept the alternative.”
