Sylvia's Torment (Enforcers and Coterie Book 2)
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Wasting no time, she circled his flesh with her fingers, learning the feel of him. A long, solid lick on the underside ended with her sucking him between her lips. Fingers curled into her hair, encouraging her while Tariq’s hips surged forward.
She tightened her hold and stroked, using her tongue to create better suction. Picking up his rhythm, she kept pace with him, savouring the taste and feel of his cock. With her other hand, she cupped his balls, gently squeezing them.
“Ah darling, you’ll have me coming before I want to.” Drawing out of her mouth, he knelt beside her. “Lie down.”
Stretching out on the grass, she waited while he gazed at her naked body. His fingers shaped and molded her breasts, teasing her nipples. Bending, he licked first one and then the other. His free hand quested lower until it found the wet folds between her legs.
She spread her legs, inviting him in, needing more from him. Smart man that he was, he took the hint and kissed his way down her body. Settling between her thighs, he dropped a kiss on each hipbone before turning his attention to the spot aching for his mouth.
The first tentative lick had her sighing in bliss. The next lick was harder, and she clamped her legs on the side of his head. A chuckle vibrated her clit. He pried her legs apart and held her in place.
Flicking his tongue against her sensitive bundle of nerves, he placed an arm over her stomach, and the other one moved between her legs.
“Yes. Yes, please, use your fingers,” she begged, pleaded even, and didn’t care.
With a low moan, he complied, sinking his fingers inside, finding the right spot. She urged him on, past caring about anything except the feel of him and the orgasm building.
Faster, deeper, harder.
Her body stiffened. The orgasm ripped through her, and she rode the waves. Limp, sated and wrung out, she tried to catch her breath.
Tariq kissed his way upwards, paying attention to both her breasts.
“Now you don’t think we’re done, do you?” With a devilish grin, he arched an eyebrow at her. “I still have plans for your delectable body.”
He nudged her legs apart and settled between then, his hard cock telling her exactly what his plans involved.
“I’m yours to do with as you please,” she said while she rubbed her wet core against him, enjoying as he slipped between her folds.
“Yes, mine. All mine,” he muttered against her throat, his cock pushing deep inside her. As if his words opened a floodgate, he rained kisses on her neck and shoulders while his hips rocked back and forth.
His pace picked up, slamming into her with a ferocity that left her clinging to him, mindless with pleasure. She couldn’t breathe, didn’t want to breathe. Only wanted, needed, desired.
Another orgasm snuck up on her, demanding release. Closer and closer. Her body tightened, but release eluded her. She needed more.
In a swift move, Tariq pulled out of her and flipped her onto her hands and knees. He entered her, pounding hard. Fingers squeezed her ass.
“Do it, use your fingers. Get yourself off,” he ground out, maintaining his almost punishing pace.
Knowing exactly what he meant, she brought her fingers to her clit, rubbing it in just the right way. Sensitive, so sensitive. And so damn good.
The elusive orgasm ripped through her, and a scream burst from her throat.
“Oh fuck yes! Damn you’re so hot, so damn tight around my cock.” A loud groan followed his words, and he chased her over the edge. He slumped on top of her, both of them spent. “I never want to move again. You, my darling, are amazing.”
Chapter Eight
Tariq froze and cocked his head to the side, straining to catch the faint noise. A fight, a violent one, broke the serenity of the moment.
“Fuck!” he yelled. Every instinct told him to race back to the house, protect his Alpha. Post-coital bliss deserted him. He withdrew from Lori’s warmth, missing it already.
Jumping up, he yanked on his clothes, and Lori followed suit. She didn’t question him, though in fact she probably had no clue why he’d done so. Her hearing wasn’t strong enough yet.
“Come,” he shouted over his shoulder and sprinted along the path. “Fight at the house.”
No sound betrayed either of them, the silence of predators cloaking them. Moments passed, and they reached the backyard. Growls and shouts of anger burst from the bay window in the dining room.
Stand down. He’s mine! Derek’s voice ripped through his mind. What in the nine hells was going on?
Not wanting to distract his Alpha, he entered the back door quietly. A sweeping glance took in everything. Another werewolf grappled with Derek. Blood stained Derek’s shirt, his eyes watery and squinting. Partially shifted, claws out and long canines exposed in a snarl, he was every inch the enraged male.
Zmitro crouched near Sylvia, protecting her with his body.
Derek smiled, fierce and bloodthirsty. The other Alpha, Shawn, struggled for breath, fear coating the room.
“You hurt my woman. My scent is all over her. You knew she was mine,” Derek snarled at Shawn. “I’ll make you suffer before I kill you.”
“I didn’t know she was yours,” Shawn whimpered. “I swear, I wouldn’t have hurt her. Just wanted to shake you up.”
Derek backhanded him. The Lesser Alpha’s head snapped around, teeth clattering from the blow. Pouncing, Derek slammed his fist into his opponent again and again. When the other man’s head lolled to the side, Derek struck, digging his teeth into his throat.
A dull thud drifted through the air. The werewolf’s head fell to the floor, signaling the end of the fight.
Turning, staggering towards Sylvia, Derek held out a hand. She ripped herself out of Zmitro’s arms, and yelled, “Stay away from me. Don’t touch me!”
Racing from the room, she didn’t look back.
Zmitro stepped towards their Alpha and said, “Clean up in the bathroom and then go to her. She’s an Enforcer and a Beta. If she wants to stay that way, she needs to remember how brutal our world can be.” When Derek glanced at him, Zmitro continued, “Go, we’ll take care of the garbage. We’ll bring him to the Coterie and tell them what happened.”
Derek’s fangs receded; his claws retracted. Blood dried on his face and stomach, the wounds healing. As he staggered from the kitchen, Emma, Davis and Heather moved to the dead body.
“What just happened?” Tariq demanded.
“Shawn,” Zmitro spat out in disgust. “That stupid ass Alpha came here and attacked Sylvia. Derek found them first and punished the asshole.”
“Punished?” Lori whispered behind him, her fingers gripping Tariq’s shirt. “He killed him.”
“Da, exactly. No one else will make the same mistake.” Anger radiated from Zmitro, his Russian accent lending harshness to his words. He stalked out of the room, trailing behind the others as they carried the body away.
“I don’t understand. Is this what happens, death to anyone who doesn’t obey the rules?”
Tariq turned. Bewilderment and pain etched her face. Cupping her cheek, he kissed her forehead, saddened she’d seen the harsh side of their reality so soon.
“He attacked Sylvia, a woman inside the pack house.”
He led Lori to the dining room table and held out a chair for her. Once she sat, he followed suit, their chairs facing each other. Needing the connection, he placed a hand on her knee.
Lori, her brows drawn together, responded, “And for that, he had to die? It makes no sense. Wait, what do you mean, ‘a woman’? If he had attacked a man, Derek wouldn’t have killed him?”
“There are certain rules we hold dear that keep us ‘civilized’. The pack house is a sanctuary, a safe place for everyone, but our women in particular.”
Her knuckles turned white from gripping the side of the table. Anger radiated from her, and she demanded, “Women in particular? Exactly what does that mean? That we’re weak? Need a big, strong man to protect us?”
“Our women are less aggre
ssive then the men.” He held up a hand when she started to protest. “I’m not being sexist. We have more testosterone than the average man, be it human, mage or vampire. Our aggression coupled with our animal instincts make us dangerous. Doesn’t mean we think our women are weak. Derek resides over Ontario with only the Coterie above him in power. You’ve seen how many women he has in his hierarchy. We value our women. But we also enforce sanctuary in the pack house for them.”
“Sylvia’s not some damn shrinking violet, afraid of the scary world. She’s an Enforcer, damn it. If you value her so much, why treat her like she’s weak and unable to protect herself?” Lori objected hotly.
He leaned back, unsure of how much to share. Part of it wasn’t his story to tell, but he didn’t want her hurt due to lack of information.
“We recently rescued Sylvia. She was abducted, tortured and experimented on. It’s not a secret within the pack. Derek sent out wolves from all over Ontario to search for her. Shawn knew, and still, he attacked her. He could have challenged her, but he didn’t. He broke the law.”
She tilted her head, confused, and interrupted, “Challenge? What do you mean?”
Tariq sighed, aware of how barbaric all this must seem to an outsider, one not raised inside a pack. “It’s technically permissible for someone to challenge Sylvia for her Beta position. She’s weak right now and could be considered unfit for duty. He or she can issue a formal challenge and fight to take her place.”
“What?” Lori jumped from her chair. “That’s fucked up. That’s all kinds of fucked up.” When he reached for her, she skittered out of the way. “No, no. Don’t touch me. That’s such bullshit. She must’ve gone through hell, and it’s acceptable for someone to challenge her, to rip away her place in the pack?”
“It’s not a free-for-all. Only Alphas from lower packs or other Betas and Deltas have the right, since they’ve earned the position they’re in.”
“Oh, so that makes it better. She doesn’t have to worry about lowly werewolves like me attacking her, just other strong ones. Yeah, that’s a great rule to have in place.”
“Hey, I’m not the one making the rules.”
“No, but you obey these stupid rules.”
“And I’m sure there are some stupid human rules you obey as well.”
“Not ones that can seriously harm another! We tend to have laws against it, not for it!”
“A weak werewolf in a position of power harms the whole pack.”
“So for the good of the pack, you’ll kill someone who ‘attacks’ Sylvia, but all of you will stand by if someone ‘challenges’ her instead?” Repugnance curled her lip, and something close to hatred shone in her eyes. Her amber eyes. Shit, shifting for the first time in anger increased the likelihood of her turning feral.
Frustration almost had him snapping at her. The conversation had veered far from the issue. Striving for calm, not wanting her to misunderstand, he responded, “No one will challenge her. These are extenuating circumstances, and she’s protected. That’s the other reason why Derek reacted so harshly. Shawn attacked her without any formal challenge. Bypassing Derek’s authority like that cannot be tolerated, especially against Sylvia.”
Lori snarled at him, not placated by his words. “Why? Because she’s a weak woman, needing the big, bad Alpha to protect her?”
“No, damn it. Stop trying to twist my words. She’s his lifemate. He’s tied to her.”
Her head cocked to the side, puzzled over his words. “I’ve heard that term before, lifemate. What does it mean?”
Tariq exhaled slowly, relieved to see the blue blossoming in her eyes; the amber leaching away. “It’s like marriage. Werewolves don’t divorce and don’t cheat. Hard to cheat when your spouse can smell it. When both of them accept the union, the lifemate bond is created. It allows them to feel each other’s emotions and send thoughts. It’s a deeper intimacy than any other mating.”
“What if one doesn’t want it, the lifemate thingy?”
“Well, they both have the choice to decline, to deny it. From what I’ve heard, the male recognizes his lifemate first. The wolf in us knows. But it’s up to the human side to agree. There’s no fated ‘do or die’ mating. Sometimes it can take years. Derek and Sylvia have known each other for decades. Except it wasn’t until just recently that they mated.”
Lori moved back to the table and sank into her chair. A speculative look crossed her face. “How do you know? I mean, how do you recognize your lifemate?”
“It’s a sense of rightness, a joy of being with your partner. You want to make them happy, but feel comfortable enough to argue. And the sex…the sex is phenomenal. Off the charts hot.”
“I see.” Lori visibly deflated, drawing into herself. “I need time by myself, time to think.” She pushed her chair back farther from him, and the chasm between them yawned.
Was she rejecting him and the ruthless reality of their strict hierarchy required to hold their aggressions in check? Or was she rejecting the potential bond between them? Tariq’s human half finally acknowledged what his wolf half had been trying to tell him since the moment he had sniffed Lori.
She is mine.
His wolf instincts told him to hold on tight. His human side said to give her time. The past few weeks had changed her whole world and her view of herself. Thrusting a bond upon her she never knew existed would be too much.
He nodded and watched her go.
Chapter Nine
Head falling to the floor, blood spurting from the neck. The image burned her, scorched her. How could she stay? Their methods and their rules, too brutal for her. She wasn’t raised with this society.
He tried to harm a lifemate, attacking her to attack the Alpha. He deserved death. Where did that thought come from? That wasn’t her. Was it?
The woods surrounded her. Wind rustled the leaves on the ground and in the trees. Squirrels scampered across branches, chattering to each other. Birds squawked, angry at her intrusion in their domain.
Halting on the path, she dropped down under a huge oak tree and closed her eyes. She scrubbed at her face, trying to make sense of this. Was her other half arguing that the Alpha was justified in his actions? Taking another’s life was acceptable?
She wasn’t naïve. She knew other races practiced capital punishment with their worst offenders. Humans, on rare occasion, did so as well. But did it make it right? Would anyone even question Derek’s actions, verify that he hadn’t overstepped his bounds? Who kept him in check? The other werewolves were submissive to him. Hell, she was submissive to him. Could they even stand up to him if he was in the wrong?
The innate desire to subjugate herself, expose her neck or her belly to this one man overruled thirty years of taught self-reliance. Her mother hadn’t wanted Lori in the same position she had been in, young, scared, and with no one to trust. Bitterness had been the driving force behind her decision to remarry. She had trusted the wrong man, and refused to feel that pain again.
Independence and self-sufficiency had been at the core of Lori’s childhood and teenage lessons. Much of her life, she’d spent on the outskirts, a part of a group, yet still distant. Her decision, thinking it would keep her heart safe, unlike her mother’s broken one.
Now, through some quirk of biology, she wanted to throw all that away and let another lord over her.
Forehead resting against her knees, she tried to bury the image of Derek, with wicked teeth and claws, covered in blood. This man had so much power over her, and he was a monster. A beast savaging another, and no one could stop him. This side of the werewolves was carefully hidden away from public view; justifiably terrified humans would tear them apart and decimate the packs if their darker nature was ever revealed.
History lessons, those learned outside of human schools, seeped into her mind. Racial wars, hatred, and near genocide had led to the Treaties. Activists from all the races had seen the damage and had demanded peace before too many lives were lost. Humans glossed over the brutality
of those times as a necessity, a way for humanity to survive.
True accounts of history still existed, though. Ones that showed humans were also capable of becoming monsters. Few were innocent, and sadly, the innocent were usually the first to die.
She couldn’t condemn Derek for protecting his mate. Humans would’ve done the same. A strange smile, a cross between sadness and cruelty, twisted her lips. She wouldn’t hesitate to destroy another if they dared to harm her mate, submissive or not.
Any sympathy she had for the dead man leached from her. He had known the rules, and still he had attacked a traumatized woman within the pack house. In the end, he’d known the consequences. There was no pleading ignorance.
Could she live this life? Rules to constrict her, push her into a neat little mold? She rested her head against the tree, her hair clinging to the rough bark. Yellow and orange leaves filled her sight. That tiny voice, the one she craved to ignore, pushed through again.
Humans have laws, too. Every race does. It’s for the betterment of society. Stupid voice making sense. It was easier to wallow in self-pity than to view her new world objectively. Couldn’t she spend at least a few minutes railing against something out of her control?
She snorted at that. Wallowing solved nothing.
Another uncomfortable thought demanded attention.
Lifemates.
Sense of rightness, a joy of being with your partner. Tariq’s words echoed in her mind, filling her with equal parts wonder and dread.
Even that was taken out of her hands, the discovery of finding a partner. Instead, another quirk of werewolf biology stated this one person was the perfect mate, and no one else would do. What in the nine hells was that bullshit? What, her own feelings didn’t matter? What if she hated her perfect lifemate, couldn’t stand being in the same room with him?
At any point, a man could sweep into her life, claim she’s his and that’s it?
There’s no fated ‘do or die’ mating. The words soothed her. No, she wouldn’t be forced into it, a biddable little female bowing down to a male. Becoming a werewolf had taken so much from her, but in this, she would have the ultimate say.