Sylvia's Torment (Enforcers and Coterie Book 2)
Page 16
Damn it, why did they have to touch her?
She had counted to a hundred. Twice. It didn’t help.
Last night had shown her she still had a lot of work ahead of her. Crowds and certain smells triggered the flashbacks, slamming into her mind and skewing reality. Thinking she needed more exposure to hopefully lessen her reactions, she’d decided to spend time watching TV.
When some of the guys entered the room, she moved over, making room on the couch. They claimed they wanted to veg out, but she knew better.
The Deltas gossiped like old women. She found it hard to be angry though. They did it out of love. While they’d settled around her, Zmitro had casually mentioned the rumour that had started this morning within the pack – Julia was pregnant.
Sure, Julia had no clue, and neither did Jackson, but it helped deflect the real reason why they left last night. Sylvia wished she could’ve seen Jackson’s face the first time someone asked him about the baby. Poor guy.
Rotating her shoulders, she tried to ease the tension from her back. A neck stretch did nothing to help with the tight, suffocating sensation. A crack assaulted her ears, but she knew it wasn’t real. Right?
Not long ago she would’ve loved being in the middle of this doggy pile. Her fondest memories included nights spent at Derek’s, watching TV with the pack. Tonight, however, her skin crawled and her bones broke, if only in her mind. The remembered agony of healing consumed her. For three months the sole time someone had touched her was to hurt her. Most of it she couldn’t recall thanks to the drugs, but the healing pain was tortuously fresh in her mind.
Her hand crept to her neck. Though no longer marred by scar tissue, her fingers still felt it, could trace the line with unerring accuracy.
Some progress had been made. She’d accepted hugs from both Derek and Heather yesterday, one quick and one…not. A shiver of awareness momentarily distracted her. While she still tensed when someone touched her, it didn’t occur as often. Derek’s touches, though, caused a different kind of stress, and she swiftly cut off that line of thinking. Her body’s reaction would be difficult to explain to the packmates draped on her.
Did they have to sit so damn close to her? This was too much.
She elbowed Zmitro and Rafi, both of whom leaned on her shoulders. She had blinked in shock when Rafi had walked into the entertainment room alone. One twin without the other was just unheard of.
Zmitro complained, rubbing his ribs. “Ouch, what was that for, my pretty flame? I was comfortable. I hope you don’t expect me to lean on Rafi.” He leered at the other man. “Although, he’s girly enough to make me feel manly while we cuddle.”
Rafi’s fist shot out behind Sylvia, slamming into Zmitro’s shoulder. “You wish, bro. No one can make you feel manly.”
Feigning a wounded look, he clutched his chest. “Cold, so cold. I don’t know how your brother stands being around you. He must wear parkas and toques all the time. Or is that why he’s always wearing a hoodie, to hide the frostbite?”
In no mood for their sparring, Sylvia pushed Tariq off her feet and hurriedly stood up, ignoring his sharp bright green gaze. Shrewd and astute, his favourite pastime was figuring out what made a person tick. Today she didn’t want to be psychoanalyzed. She had a shrink for that.
“I’m off to bed,” she declared without giving them a chance to protest. As she left the room, feeling as if hellhounds were nipping at her heels, she heard them muttering to each other. Concern and worry coloured their tone, although she couldn’t make out the words. More like she didn’t want to know what they said.
She felt bad for ditching them, but keeping up the pretense of being normal strained her, stretched her thin. Soon the holes would show, noticeable to her pack.
As soon as she entered her room, she flicked on the lights and threw the windows wide open. She breathed easier knowing she was safe in her room…well, not exactly her room, Derek’s room. She had wanted to argue about taking his room, but she wouldn’t win. An Alpha on the warpath trying to protect a packmate, nothing would allow him to back down.
She marveled anew at the spaciousness of the room. He had a huge king size bed covered with navy blue cotton sheets. Both the bed and the sheets had been custom made due to his size. She closed her eyes and tried not to picture him tangled up in the sheets and failed miserably. Each night he laid next to her on this bed, talking to her until she fell asleep. For comfort, he usually only wore jeans, his chest bare.
Shit, don’t think of him that way. He’s my Alpha and nothing more.
An Alpha she’d seen naked, over the years, along with the rest of her packmates. Out of respect and in keeping with their unwritten rules, she had averted her eyes – mostly – and tried not to stare blatantly. The few times she’d peeked, the image had seared her mind.
A tiny moan vibrated against her pressed lips as she pictured his long, muscular legs, tight washboard abs, thick shoulders and heavily corded arms. A light dusting of hair trailed from his navel downwards, begging to be explored. His flat nipples urged her to lick and suck them, see if she could tease them into erect peaks.
Damn it, how could she keep her thoughts platonic? That kiss had scorched her, shattered her way of thinking. She’d been content to have a crush on Derek, to keep him on a pedestal and know nothing would happen between them. That kiss, though, changed everything.
And his nightly ritual? It felt like he was romancing her, in his own way. Derek didn’t follow normal conventions. No, he wouldn’t give her flowers and chocolate. Too boring and ordinary. But keeping watch over her, helping her heal, that sounded more like her Alpha.
And at any other time, she would’ve accepted, excited to finally live her fantasies.
Now though, she couldn’t handle it. She wanted him to touch her, stroke her, caress her, but the fears lived so close to the surface. One wrong move on his part and she’d spiral back into that prison cell. What if the suffocating sensation overwhelmed her while they were in bed? What if she started screaming and couldn’t stop? So many what-ifs floating in her mind.
These thoughts were useless, designed to drive her nuts. Derek hadn’t indicated through word or deed that he wanted more from her. He’d apologized – apologized! – for kissing her, said it wouldn’t happen again. Not once had he mentioned it. So it meant nothing. His visits at night meant nothing. Right?
She sucked in a deep breath and pushed away these confusing, conflicting thoughts. To distract her mind, she moved from the door to browse through his personal items. If he hadn’t wanted her to snoop, then he shouldn’t have put her in his room without her permission. Sylvia hadn’t spent much time in here other than sleeping at night. Now she’d make up for the lack of poking around.
She skirted around the couch, which faced a TV hanging above his dresser. The dresser itself was a huge monstrosity taking up half of the wall across from the door. It was dark walnut, real wood instead of fake veneer, and on top of the dresser were several photos and a few bottles of cologne. The cologne, specifically made for werewolves, had a very light fragrance only a wolf could smell.
Unstopping it, she inhaled one half of Derek’s unique scent, the other half being the personal aroma of his skin. She put the stopper back in and gently returned the bottle to its spot on the dresser.
The pictures caught her eye next. There had to be well over fifteen of them, all spanning the last few decades. She picked up one of them that just had her in it. Sitting on a dock, her feet dangling in the water, she had been unaware of her picture being taken. She remembered that day.
Several members of the pack, including Derek, had gone to cottage country for the weekend. A first time for her – although she had joined them every time since – and the pack’s need for touch had overwhelmed her. Much like she was now. In order to escape, she’d wandered down to the pier on her own and sat for a while to enjoy the quiet. Not long after, Derek had joined her, and they’d stared at the lake for hours in peaceful companionship.
To her shock, it wasn’t a pack member seeking her out but the Alpha himself. Dark blue swim trunks showed off his muscular legs, and his bare chest begged to be touched. As he stalked closer, her senses went into hyper-drive, aware of each step he took. The faint scent of musk teased her, desire unfurling in her belly. The sound of the water lapping at the shore and slapping against the dock masked any noise he made.
A dark, powerful predator.
And she was his prey.
A shiver danced along her spine, not of fear but excitement. How would it feel to be stalked by him, knowing in the end he’d win? The urge to spring up and run, push him to his limits, beat at her. She wanted to be chased and then caught.
She wanted to be his prize.
He’d shown no interest in her, though. If she attempted anything and he refused, she might be transferred to another pack out of pity. Unrequited lust could be messy and embarrassing.
Locking down her thoughts and emotions, drawing them in tight was the only way to stay with him as long as possible.
No smile curved his lips. Derek wasn’t the friendly sort. Instead, he lowered his giant body next to her and rumbled, “The pack can be overwhelming at times. They mean well, though.”
Her surprise must have shown, as he chuckled lightly.
“Most new members feel that way. Don’t worry. They understand why you needed time away. Would you like me to leave?”
“No, please stay.”
Derek spread his fingers on the edge of the dock, his dark skin gleaming in the sun. She wanted to place her hand over his, thread her fingers with his and draw in his strength. Over the years, she’d heard so much about him. His ruthlessness, his ferocity, his ironclad control. She envied him that. Inside she was a mass of nerves, afraid the pack would see her weaknesses and demand her removal.
“The pack likes you. I like you. After you’ve learned complete control of your wolf, I want you to stay in the pack. If you agree, I’ll submit a transfer request to your old pack.”
Stunned, she whipped her head around to stare at Derek. He didn’t accept new members unless they were born into his pack. Smaller packs under his control in Ontario took transfers, but not his personal one in Toronto.
Not a flicker of emotion showed on his face, no reason as to why he’d offer her this opportunity. His golden brown eyes held hers, and she wished she could read his thoughts. Sure, as an Alpha, he could send them to the pack, but not to her, not unless she accepted his offer.
Why was she hesitating? Why couldn’t she form the simple word “yes”?
“Accept. I want you here. And I want to recommend you for the Enforcers.”
All air left her lungs. The Enforcers? He thought she could become an Enforcer?
“What?” Sylvia whispered.
“You’re stronger than you realize.” He lifted his hand to brush a strand of hair from her cheek and gave her a rare smile. “I know you can do it.”
Since that day, she had lived up to his expectations, pushed herself to be the person he saw in her. His strength became her strength.
Tearing her mind away from the bittersweet memories, she glanced to the next picture and then the next. In many of them, she’d been part of a group, laughing and playing. With shock, Sylvia realized all the pictures had one thing in common: her. There wasn’t a single photo on his dresser that didn’t include her.
Creepy or flattering?
Before she could make up her mind, the door clicked shut. She hadn’t even realized it’d opened. Slowly she turned around, knowing whom she’d find.
“Derek,” she whispered his name. He looked larger than life, dwarfing the door and blocking her in. Was her shallow breathing due to being trapped or due to her overwhelming awareness of him?
“I just…I needed some space.” Her eyes darted around, trying to find a way to escape.
One of the guys must have tattled, and true to form, Derek had come to check on her.
She inched her way towards the ensuite bathroom. Maybe if she stayed in there long enough, he’d give up and leave.
Did she want him to leave?
No, she didn’t. She yearned for the same thing she always had. To be his lover. His lifemate. But she knew that wasn’t possible. The bond would’ve occurred by now if they were lifemates. She hadn’t rejected it, hadn’t felt it, which meant it didn’t exist.
He wasn’t hers. He would eventually belong to another woman.
Chapter Twenty-One
His room had always been his sanctuary, the one place he could escape his responsibilities as a pack leader and just relax. With Sylvia in his room, relaxation was the last thing on his mind. His gaze briefly wandered to the bed, wishing she was lying on it, her flame-red hair spread out on his pillows. His jeans tightened painfully when he shifted his attention to Sylvia. She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail, and several curls framed her face. Her tight t-shirt clung to her breasts, her nipples erect and ready for a licking.
Oh, how he wanted to feast on her.
She crept closer to the bathroom door. As soon as she cleared the couch and it no longer stood between them, he stalked forward, intent on his luscious prey. Each night he imagined they were mated, discussing their day and pack business. The rightness of it seduced him, showed him the beauty of Sylvia as his lifemate.
He wanted more, as much as she’d give him. He would prove to her they were perfect together. While he’d suppressed his need for her for years, just one taste had awakened a deeper desire. One kiss set fire to his body.
He couldn’t go back.
He’d experienced a brief glimpse of heaven, and nothing else would do.
Sylvia walked backwards, away from him, until she was pressed against the wall. Initially, she cowered, and anger flared inside him. His courageous Sylvia should never cower.
Damn those bastards for what they had done to her.
Ruthlessly, he reined in his rage. It wouldn’t help her calm down.
After her initial reaction, she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, proud and unbowed. He smiled, loving her fierceness even when faced with her brute of an Alpha. Her heart was pounding, probably in fear.
Damn it, he was an idiot, scaring her like this.
Back off and give her space, he berated himself.
Inhaling lightly to gauge her fear, his knees almost gave out. She wasn’t frightened but excited. She lusted for him.
Another step closer, almost touching. Hands against the wall as his thickly corded arms created a cage to hold her immobile. His expression turned fierce, his arousal overwhelming his good sense.
Want. Need. Desire.
Take her up against the wall. Hear her screams of pleasure in his ear. Her nails scoring his back, marking him, making him hers and hers alone. He’d waited so long for her, and his control was slipping off its leash.
Don’t touch me. I can’t handle it right now.
Her thoughts were a slap across the face. What the hell was he doing? He was scaring the one person he never wanted frightened of him. He was an ass. Her eyes were downcast, and shame jabbed at him for hurting her. Just as he was about to lower his arms and release her, her next hesitant thoughts caressed his mind.
But…I want to touch you. I need to touch you. Don’t walk away.
He heard her thoughts clearly as the lifemate bond tried to push its way into place.
Her words stunned him. The yearning staggered him.
Mind racing, he thought of a way to satisfy them both without spooking her.
“How about…” His voice was husky with hunger for her. He knew his irises had changed to a warm, golden amber as his feral side came closer to the surface. “You do all the touching. I’ll keep my hands to myself, and you have complete control. How far you want or don�
��t want to take this, it’s up to you.”
Her head shot up, and her mouth dropped open in stunned disbelief. He chuckled ruefully. No Alpha voluntarily gave up control, and he knew he was by far one of the worst. For Sylvia, though, he’d willingly tie himself to the bed if it meant she’d be happy.
And naked. He definitely wanted her naked if that was to happen.
It killed him as he waited for her answer, but he forced himself to be patient and let her lead. If she said no, he would walk away and give her space. He never wanted her to fear him or to have any cause to doubt him.
An ugly thought reared its head, one he wanted to ignore but couldn’t. There was no way he could continue trying to seduce her until he knew the answer.
“When they abducted you, did they…” he trailed off, unclear of how to tactfully ask if they’d raped her. The mere thought of it made him want to “interrogate” the prisoners they held at HQ.
“No,” she whispered, and his body sagged in relief. “If a guard looked at any of us women liked that, they transferred him away from us. Beaten and tortured, yes, but not raped. I think they realized some of us would’ve been harder to manage if they had allowed that to happen.”
A shaky hand reached out, and he lightly touched her hair. She was safe now. Those bastards wouldn’t hurt her again.
Pressing his hands against the wall again, he leaned in, giving her a feather-light kiss. Meant to comfort her, the kiss lit a raging fire inside of him as soon as their lips touched. He burned with a need so fierce he expected to burst into flames.
Pulling away from her, he tugged off his t-shirt and tossed it to the ground. A sigh escaped her as her hands fluttered toward his chest. His nipples tightened in anticipation. He kept his own hands by his side, refusing to break his promise to her. Finally, she made contact with his skin, her thumbs brushing his nipples. Her eyes drifted shut as she leaned into him, her breath warm against him. Tongue darting out, she licked a tiny line across his chest before she nipped him with her teeth. The pain/pleasure combination was exquisite, and he hungered for more.