“Enough,” he said breathlessly. He pulled me to my feet. “God, you’re amazing.”
“I don’t think God wants anything to do with what we’re up to right now,” I said cheekily.
He grinned, his hands possessing me at the hips. “You’re probably right.”
“So you forgive me?” I asked. This little ‘game’ was proving to be the perfect escape from everything that lay ahead, and I was ready to submerge myself into every moment of it.
“Not yet,” he said, starting to slowly strip me of my own clothes. “I don’t think you’re actually feeling very sorry for what you did.”
Guilty as charged. Sorry was not the word I would use to describe how I felt right now at all.
“You know, Charisse, you are a powerful woman. And I don’t just mean because of your Supplicant blood.” My shirt and bra were already on the floor by this point, and now my pants joined them. “It’s who you are. It’s in your nature.”
“I suppose then you’ve met your match.”
He tilted his head to the side, his expression thoughtful. “Maybe.”
I did not like that word one bit. Not in response to what I just said. I started to pull back, but Abram held me firm.
“It wouldn’t be a bad thing for you to surrender sometimes. To let someone else make decisions. It’s not a weakness to let someone else take control of you for a little bit now and then.”
“Someone?” I asked. “Or you?”
He spun me around again, this time bending me over the arm of the couch and tugging down my underwear. My whole body went hot. His hands slid lower on my hips, the heels of his palms grazing my ass.
“You’re right. Just me. You want all of me, Charisse?”
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. He did not just ask me that!
“Heaven help us, you have a dirty mind, Miss Bellamy,” he said, slipping into his old name for me like it had become a kinky afterthought. He pressed closer to me, his cock nudging against my intimate folds. “I mean, you want me, body, mind, soul. Correct?”
“Oh,” I said breathlessly. “I think you know that already.”
“I do,” he said. “And that’s why you should understand that I want you in the same way. I want you to belong to me.”
The head of his cock pressed into me, but he did not push any farther. He trailed a finger down my spine, stopping just below the small of my back to trace small circles as he throbbed inside of me. Some part of me was telling me I had to argue with his choice of words—“belong to me”—but the other part of me just wanted him to fuck me and tell me I’m pretty.
My arousal was making it hard to think, and my body squirmed. I pressed my hips back, wanting to take more of him, overwhelmed by how impossibly hard her was, but he firmed his grip to hold me still.
“Not yet, Charisse.” He paused, and the heat radiating off of him alone was enough to set me on fire.
I took a slow, deep breath. I wasn’t sure if he was doing this to drive me crazy or to control his own impulses, but I think he was accomplishing both either way.
“You’re your own woman,” he said, sliding in a smidge deeper, stretching me and making me feel empty all at once. “So you do realize it would still be your decision, even if your choice was to be my woman? To surrender every now and then? It may be more empowering than you think.”
I could fight it all I wanted, but there could be only one authority in this relationship, and Abram claimed that role long ago, despite any resistance on my end. And deep down, I liked it that way.
“You already have me, Abram,” I whispered.
With that, he leaned over me, pressing his lips against my ear. “I know.”
I gasped at the feeling of fullness as his erection pushed the rest of the way inside of me. Abram was larger than life, in more ways than one. And in that moment, I felt more full than I ever had before. My heart, my body. My undeniable love for him. The lusting ache that begged for release. This new freedom to stop worrying about being a Modern Day Woman and just let this man ravish me. He was right. It was much more empowering than being the boss of our relationship.
That is, until I was about to climax, and Abram pulled away.
I turned around. “Why did you stop?”
He pulled me to him and cradled body against his chest.
“Your lesson,” he said, kissing my temple.
He released me to gather my clothes from the floor and toss them to the other side of the room, then dressed himself.
“My lesson?” I asked, stumbling over the words. “What are you talking about?”
Why was he pulling on his clothes? I’d met men who didn’t care if a woman got off or not, but Abram wasn’t one of them…and he hadn’t even taken care of his own needs yet.
Abram dressed himself and then scooped me up in his arms and laid me out on chaise lounge. “Your lesson, Charisse. To respect me in my home—and everywhere else. That is how you will get what you want from me.”
“Don’t you want the same thing I do?”
He nodded, kneeling between my legs and rubbing his thumbs over my nipples. My body shuddered, every nerve cell alight with need
“Of course,” he said. “But I also want to see you beg for forgiveness.”
“For slapping your ass, Abram? Really?”
My sentiment was cut off by a gasp as his leaned over and flicked his tongue against my nipple. He stopped and let me finish.
“You’re can’t be serious,” I breathed.
“You saw me grovel to Satina today,” he said, his hand slipping between my legs. “You’re so wet,” he added, sliding a finger inside of me, and then another. “When you can convince me you are sorry as well as I convinced Satina that I was, I’m going to give you the biggest orgasm of your life.”
I didn’t doubt for a second he could, but I wasn’t sure how to convince him I was sorry, though the way his fingers were so skillfully pumping into me was a great motivator.
“I am sorry,” I tried.
Abram chuckled. “No, you’re not.”
His fingers worked inside of me, and my body writhed against the crushed velvet of his chaise lounge. His thumb grazed at my clit with each movement of his hand, sending me into the depths of erotic insanity. My fingers splayed through his hair, and my back arched as a moan escaped my lips. Again he stopped. By the third time he put me through this unique brand of torture, bringing me to that brink only to withdraw his attention again, I was equally infuriated and desperately sorry.
This must have been how he felt apologizing to Satina, sans the arousal.
I gasped, reaching down to grab his hands and stop him from starting again. “I’m sorry, Abram. I swear. I MEAN IT, OKAY?”
He brushed me away, smirking, ready to start again, but I snatched his hand once more. I had become desperate. I couldn’t take any more. I needed release.
“I swear on every Gucci dress I own, I will never smack your butt again. Please, Abram.”
He sat back and pressed his lips together triumphantly. “Well, that wouldn’t be much fun…”
His coy grin nearly sent me over the edge, and I grabbed him by his shirt and pulled his body on top of mine until his lips crushed against my own. He could have resisted—he was only infinitely stronger than me—but he fell between my legs with ease. I bucked my hips against him, and he ground his pelvis in return, his jeans rough against my skin. But I didn’t care.
He pulled back, just enough that I could make out the strong lines of his face. “Well, I suppose if you’re truly sorry…”
“I am,” I said breathless and desperate. “Now, will you please fuck me proper?”
“Of course, Miss Bellamy. I love it when you’re proper.”
And not to my surprise, Abram delivered the orgasm of my life, just as he promised.
It was only moments after every muscle in my body contracted and relaxed in the most exquisite of respites, however, that the door burst open.
I thr
ew myself back, covering myself with my hands. My clothes were in a pile on the other side of the room, and standing here, in the middle of Abram’s living room, was the one person we weren’t prepared to face.
Dalton.
Dalton, and several other police officers along with him. All wearing bulletproof vests, their guns drawn.
“Charisse, are you…” His voice trailed off as he looked up. “Jesus Christ.”
Following his eyes, I found the source of his astonishment wasn’t finding me here naked. It was who—or rather what—I was with.
Where Abram had only moments ago been lying beside me now resided a hulking, fanged, and feral beast.
Chapter 24
My heart ground to a halt. I had seen the beast before. I had trembled as it stood over me and marveled at his familiar eyes as they bore down on me. But I didn’t know it was Abram then. I couldn’t look and see all the cues I had missed before.
Now, with it literally lying inches from my naked body, I could see how much of the beast was Abram. It wasn’t something that took him over and made him an imprisoned bystander in his own body. It was him.
The creature’s long arms were covered in thick black fur, but they were also corded in the same muscle Abram’s had been. The creature’s face, while pulled into an elongated snout, still retained some of Abram’s more striking features.
Even his chest, that chest I longed to lay my head against while drifting to sleep against the drumming of his beating heart, was recognizable behind the alterations.
It was like looking at a model after her first trip to Europe. He was the same, but somehow very different.
“Charisse, get away from it!” Dalton’s gun was pointed straight at Abram, as were the guns of the officers who flanked him.
His sudden voice pulled me from my reverie, and I grabbed a nearby throw blanket to cover myself. Sure, I’d done some nude art modeling in college, but that didn’t mean the entire N.H.P.D. needed to see my charms.
“I have a shot!” said the officer to Dalton’s left.
“No!” Dalton yelled. “Stand down. Nobody discharges anything until that woman gets to safety.”
That woman.
Was he angry with me? Was that why he called me that instead of my name? He certainly had the right to be. Though I hadn’t meant to, I had strung him along. I kept him in the—what do they call that baseball thing?—the bullpen. And all the while I pretended to be confused about my feelings. But that was never the case. Since the first moment I laid eyes on Abram, since he literally swept me off my feet, I knew, deep down, there was no one else for me.
I had lied to Dalton as much as I’d been lying to myself.
So maybe this was Dalton finally realizing that I wronged him. Or maybe it was just him reacting to seeing my boss transform into a giant wolf-monster.
Either way.
“Char, move away,” he said, his teeth clenched. His gun was still fixed on Abram’s head, and I wondered how in control my lover was at this very moment. The last thing anybody needed was for him to go all ‘disgruntled werewolf’ on the New Haven Police Department. None of us could explain that.
“You don’t understand,” I said as quietly as I could manage. “He’s not going to hurt me.”
But could I be sure of that? The beast huffed beside me, hot breath and moisture pushing against my neck. Its muscles tensed beneath me, and fighting the urge to dart to the other side of the room for my clothes, I tried to remind myself that this was Abram.
He would never hurt me. Even in this form. He had proven as much. He fought that other beast off tooth and nail when it wanted to make a Supplicant energy drink out of me, and he would do it now.
Except, in this particular moment, I wasn’t the one who was in danger.
Would bullets hurt Abram in his beast form? Would anything? There was so much I still didn’t know, and there was no way of denying (to myself or anyone else) that I was in this. All the way. So I hung onto the things I did know. Abram was a good man. Beast or not, I was safe with him. Dalton was a good man, too. He would listen to reason. I just had to make sure he saw it.
“I promise you he’s not going to hurt me,” I repeated. Clutching the throw blanket tighter around my body, I ran my free hand along the length of Abram’s forearm.
It was strange, but not completely unpleasant. In fact, it was surprising how right it felt.
A low growl escaped Abram’s mouth. I thought about pulling my hand away, but there was no need. Abram would not hurt me. I knew that as well as I knew my own name.
“Get away from that thing, Char,” Dalton said, his hands and voice steady.
He was less of a boy now, less of the snot-nosed kid that used to tag along behind Lulu and me. There wasn’t even a shadow of the easygoing guy I had once flirted with. This was Dalton the detective—Dalton the grown man who was exceedingly good at his job.
Unfortunately, at this particular moment, his job very likely entailed firing live ammo at my boyfriend.
“Don’t shoot him, Dalton,” I said, standing my ground, shifting my body further in front of Abram’s body.
The growl Abram was producing grew louder, and Dalton began to inch toward me.
“If you’re not going to move, then I’m going to move you,” he said quietly.
“You’ll shoot him if I move,” I answered.
“You’re damn right I will,” he said through clenched teeth.
I resolved to stay exactly where I was. I would be a human bulletproof vest if necessary. Not because I thought I could stop bullets—nor did I even know if they would harm Abram in this state—but because I knew that Dalton would never take the shot if there was even a chance of hurting me and that, if he did start firing, Abram would never forgive himself for what the beast did in retaliation.
It didn’t matter, though. In an instant, Abram was on his feet, settling into a human-like stance—all fur, teeth, and trepidation. He slunk away from me, his hands warped into razor sharp claws.
Dalton’s pistol followed him, and I realized what he was doing. Abram was moving away in order to keep me safe. All these stupid men were going to get themselves killed to keep me safe. And the funny thing was, in the end, it probably wouldn’t be close to enough. Not with that other beast out there.
“Dalton, don’t you dare!” I yelled. But Abram’s growl got louder, and before I could stop it, shots thundered through the room.
“No!” I screamed, but it was too late. That idiot to Dalton’s left had begun firing. And once he started, he didn’t stop.
Bullets went flying toward Abram. He darted around and with all the agility one would expect from an animal. But that moron’s gun kept firing. Abram skidded along the walls, and I watched as fresh bullet holes appeared closer and closer to his body.
Abram sprung toward the idiot just as I heard the click that signified he was out of ammo, and I braced myself to watch Abram tear him in half.
But another gun fired. Dalton’s gun.
And he didn’t miss.
Abram reared back, howling loudly. It was so strong, so sharp, that I thought my ears might bleed.
“Dalton!” I screamed.
Abram swung at him, knocking the gun out of his hand before he could fire again. But instead of attacking Dalton, Abram grabbed his gut, charged out of the way, and jumped through the nearby window, shattering the glass.
I ran for the window, still clutching the throw blanket around my body. But by the time I got there, Abram was gone. He had vanished into the woods, save a trail of blood that marked his path.
I spun to find Dalton staring at me, holding his arm and narrowing his eyes.
“Search the house,” he said breathlessly to one of his officers. Turning to the other, he motioned to me. “Get her dressed, and put her in the car.”
Dalton had me in the squad car. After getting me out of the house, he had given me a quick look over with his first aid kit, but he hadn’t said so much as a word to me. N
ow we were on our way back to New Haven, and the silence was killing me.
“Why am I in the backseat?” I asked.
I expected the silent treatment, but apparently all it took was one of us to break the ice.
“Because I’m not sure it’s safe for you to be up here,” he answered, eyes on the road.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I asked, hands against the cage that separated us.
“You’re acting irrationally. I think you may have been drugged.”
“Drugged?” I asked, my eyebrows scrunched. “Look, you don’t know what’s going on here, Dalton. And if you did—”
“I understand enough, Char. I understand your boss has some weird cabin in the woods. I understand he was holding Ellie Farmer, the first girl who went missing, like some kind of caged animal. And I understand he turned into something that I definitely don’t understand.” He swallowed hard. “I also understand he might very well have been raping you, and that whatever he’s been dosing you with has kept you unaware it was going on.”
“He wasn’t raping me!” I screamed, slapping my hands against the cage. “I told you, you don’t understand! It’s very dangerous for me to be out here right now, Dalton! You need to bring me back!”
“Is that what he told you?” Dalton took a right onto Main Street. He slid to a halt in front of Town Hall. The sheer amount of cars here shocked me.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “If you think I’ve been drugged, then shouldn’t you bring me to the damn doctor?”
“Dr. Miller is inside. Everyone is,” Dalton said, stepping out and rounding the car to open my door. “After you disappeared, I convinced the mayor to declare a state of emergency. Everything has been on lockdown.”
“How did you find me?” I asked, as he opened the door and helped me out.
“I pinged your cellphone.”
“But my location services—”
“Were turned off. I know.” He had me by the arm now. It felt strange, as though he had never touched me before, as though no man other than Abram ever had. “I figured he might do something like that. That’s why it took me so long.”
Granted by the Beast Page 18
