by Mac Flynn
The man turned to a small buffet beside the door. He knelt in front of its two lower doors and brought out two glasses and decanter of wine. My captor filled the glasses and turned to me. He held out one of the glasses to me.
"This will warm you," he told me. I frowned and stepped back. His scowl deepened. "If you have some problem with alcohol than I'm afraid you will be very unhappy here," he mused.
"It's the company I don't like," I told him.
"Then in that you will also be disappointed," he mused. He downed the offered glass and took up the other one. The man strode over to the fire and grabbed a poker which he used to revive the dying fire. His back was turned to me, but in the quiet, shadowed room his voice was loud and clear. "What's your name?" he asked me.
"Sophia," I replied.
"No other name?" he wondered.
"That's enough for you," I quipped. I folded my arms across my chest and looked him over. "What's yours?"
"Erik."
"Erik Greenwood?" I guessed. He nodded. "All right, Greenwood, what the hell am I and the other girls really doing here?"
"You were present at the Choosing," he reminded me.
I waved a hand in front of me. "I know all that bullshit, but I want the sane truth."
Greenwood downed the contents of his second glass and gazed into the fire. The flickering flames cast an orange glow over his face. "The truth is that you have come to a very cursed place."
"I said sane," I reminded him.
A bitter smile slipped onto his lips. "I can't give you what you want. The truth is that you and the others were brought here to be the wives of werewolves. You were chosen through the blood to be my bride, and against both our wills we are stuck together until I can find a way to break this union."
"No. Just. . .just no," I insisted. I stepped backwards closer to the doors. "This is too much. I just want me and the rest of the girls to be let go and go back home-"
He whipped his head up and his gray eyes glowed in the darkness. "You will stay here until I can sort this mess out," he ordered me.
I stopped and glared at him. "Like hell I will." I turned my head to and fro, and my eyes fell on a hatchet on the wall. I leapt at the weapon and pulled it off the wall. It was heavier than it looked, and I nearly dropped it from the weight. I pulled it off the ground and held it in front of me and towards the man. He hadn't moved a muscle. "Just let me go and I don't have to use this," I warned him.
"Try to leave," he dared me.
I frowned and raised an eyebrow. "Is this some sort of trick?"
"If it was, I wouldn't tell you, and if it wasn't, you wouldn't believe me," he replied.
He had a point. I slowly stepped backwards to the door and grasped one of the large handles. The hatchet drooped in only one hand, and I kept both my eyes on Greenwood. He didn't stop me, but he did follow me with his eyes. I pushed the door open and made my escape into the hall.
Well, that's what I wanted to do. What I did was stand there stupidly mesmerized by his eerily glowing eyes. I ground my teeth together and tried to force myself to push the door open. My hand on the handle shivered, but wouldn't obey me. My whole body shook with the effort to free myself from the room. The exertion forced me to gasp for air, but I couldn't will myself to open the door. It was as though something else had control of my body.
Or someone else.
I dropped the handle and grasped the hatchet in both hands. My gaze was stuck on the man who stood beside the crackling fire.
"What the hell did you do to me?" I growled.
He turned away from me and placed both hands on the back of one of the chairs. His body was tense and his brow furrowed. He appeared to be in some sort of mental or physical anguish, but I didn't care. I just wanted to be free.
Greenwood shook his head. "I did nothing. The Choosing-"
"I don't care about some stupid Choosing! I just want to go home!" I demanded.
He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his short hair. His teeth clenched together and his breathing came out in harsh growls. "Quiet. Your yells only excite me," he hissed.
"I won't be quiet! Let me go!" I insisted.
Greenwood let out a terrifying growl before he picked up the chair and flung it across the room. It landed near the bed, and the thick pieces of wood shattered into a dozen pieces. My eyes flickered between the broken chair and the man who so easily destroyed it. I raised the hatchet and stepped towards the opposite side of the bed as him.
I couldn't keep a quiver out of my voice. "Whatever the hell you want you're not getting it from me."
He was silhouetted against the light of the fire, but I could still see his eyes. They glowed with a strange yellow light that sent delicious shivers down my spine. Thoughts of silk sheets naked bodies invaded my mind. I tried to shake them loose, but they stubbornly stuck to my mind. My breath quickened and my hands shook. My voice came out in a breathy gasp.
"W-what are you doing to me?" I whispered.
"Merely calming you," came his deep, seductive voice.
His shadowed self moved closer to me. I ground my teeth together and raised the hatchet. "S-stay back," I ordered him.
"You and I both know we can't do that. You can feel the pull as well as I," he whispered.
He came within reach of me. I growled and swung the hatchet. He caught the handle just above my hands and wrenched the hatchet from my hand. The weapon flew from our grips and landed with a loud clatter on the ground close to the fireplace. I was without protection, and at the mercy of this strange, seductive man.
CHAPTER 7
I stumbled backwards until my back hit the wall. He strode up to me and set his hands on either side of my head. I turned my face away and closed my eyes. He leaned towards me and his warm breath washed over my quivering neck. My body was lit with a new fire, but this one was far more enjoyable. It was a sensual flame that burned inside me, and it ached for his touch, for his teaching lips on my body. The ache pooled between my legs and begged for me to give in to the strange, uncontrollable force that arose inside me.
"So beautiful. . ." he murmured.
"G-go away," I stammered.
He chuckled and I jumped when I felt his hot lips on my throat. "I know you want this. I can smell your need."
I shivered. He was right. My body ached with the desire for him to take me and make me his. I longed to be subdued, to be claimed by this powerful male. My breath quickened and I squirmed against the wall. The cool touch of stone did nothing to alleviate the burning fire of lust inside me.
"We. . .we can't," I protested.
His warm lips traveled down the quivering flesh of my neck. His voice swept over me like a warm summer breeze. "We can't deny the blood. We can only accept its demands until we're free of this need."
"We. . .we have. . .have to fight it," I insisted.
It was a battle I was quickly losing. A wave of heat washed over me and left me aching for more. My hands gripped the walls. I bit my lip to stifle a groan. Every part of me longed to be taken, to be conquered and possessed by this handsome stranger before me. He held such an allure around him. I found myself drawn to him like I'd never been drawn to anyone else.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. My gaze fell on his face. His eyes burned with the same lust I felt inside me. My resolve melted against such a heated onslaught of desire. He leaned down and captured my lips in a searing, possessive kiss.
I leaned into the kiss and rubbed my heated, tense body against his. He pressed his stiff need against my inner thigh. I moaned at the feel and size of him. He broke our kiss and blazed a trail down my neck. His hands weren't idle. One of them slipped upward beneath my shirt and caught one of my swollen, heaving breasts in his palm. He rubbed and massaged my soft, pliable flesh. I groaned and leaned into his touch.
His other hand unbuttoned the button of my jeans. My body was soaked in sweat, so he was able to slip my pants off my wide hips. They dropped to the ground an
d revealed my white underwear. They were wet with my need. I jumped when he pressed his fingers against my clothed folds. He rubbed his hand against me. My hips rocked in time with his teasing movements.
"Please," I groaned.
His voice was hoarse, strained. He longed to take me as I longed for him to make me his. "Not yet."
"Please," I pleaded.
His hands shook at my plea, but he continued his sweet, aching tortures of my body. He unclasped my bra, but my shirt was still in the way. A growl escaped his lips at its interference. He removed his hand and traced his fingers up the seam. My eyes widened when his nails cut clean through the fabric. The shirt and bra were sliced on the sides, and both joined my jeans on the floor.
I stood before him nearly naked. All that remained was my underwear. I blushed and tried to cover myself with my hands. He grabbed my hands in his and pinned them to the wall on either side of my head.
"You will show me," he growled.
I shivered, but didn't fight him. He leaned back and admired me. His appreciative eyes told me what he thought. I blushed under such careful, lustful scrutiny. His breathing quickened and I noticed his clothes were stretched. Smalls tufts of fur slowly flowed from his skin. His teeth and fingers lengthened, and his eyes took on a more feral look.
I caught a whiff of a strange, intoxicating smell. It flowed off him in thick waves and slipped over me like warm perfume. The smell robbed me of the last vestiges of hesitation. I needed him. I couldn't think of anything else other than him taking me again and again. I would enjoy it. The sweet smell promised me pleasures I'd never dreamed about, if I would only submit to him.
I leaned my head back and groaned. My breasts grew larger, swollen with my need and this strange smell that engulfed me. My hips thickened and glistened under the sheen of sweat on my quivering flesh. I squirmed in his grasp. The delicious ache between my legs was increased ten-fold. I rubbed my thighs against each other, but that only worsened the need. Only he could satisfy the desire that grew inside me.
He looked me over with his shining yellow eyes and growled. The sound was more animal than human, and sent shivers down my spine. I whimpered in return. It was a plea for him to take me, to make me his and pleasure me like I would allow no other man to pleasure me.
He swooped down and snatched my lips with his. His hands tore off my flimsy, soaked underwear and it was tossed to a dark corner of the room. His fingers slid over my quivering, tense flesh. His touch seared my skin. I moaned into our kiss. He growled and tore his own clothes from his body. Our naked flesh pressed tight against each other. We were both desperate to become one, to satisfy the ache that burned inside us.
He swung me into his arms and carried me over to the bed. He set me down atop the thick fur blankets and covered me with his warm body. His stiff, swollen member pressed against me wet opening. I opened my legs and moaned when he pushed inside me. He stretched my walls and brushed against my sensitive clit. A wave of pleasure washed over me.
I leaned back and smiled. This was heaven, a beautiful, lust-filled paradise. There was only the two of us and our need for one another.
He pulled out and thrust back inside me. His long, smooth stroke touched the fire inside me and stoked it ever higher. I needed more. More of this pleasure, and more of him inside me. I clutched his arms and pushed my hips against him to deepen the penetration. He grunted and thrust hard into me.
He raised himself onto his arms and looked down on me with such blatant possession that I shuddered. His voice was no longer human. It was filled with a feral lust that knew nothing but the natural demand to take me and make me his, to claim me as his own. No other would know me.
"Mine," he growled.
I whimpered and squirmed beneath him. My only thought was to appease the wild desire that raged inside me. Only he could do it, only he could quench the lustful thirst that threatened to consume me.
"Please," I begged.
"Yes," he hissed. He pulled out and slowly, achingly slowly, he pushed back inside me. "Tell me you are mine."
This new, agonizing torture was too much. I would have agreed to anything if it meant he would take me like a lustful lover. "Yours! Only yours!" I cried out.
"Mine!" he called to the quiet room.
It bore witness to a sexual frenzy that was fueled by lust and a blinding, wild desire to procreate. He thrust hard and fast into me. I reveled in the feel of him taking me, possessing me again and again. Each stroke was a proclamation of his ownership, each grunt a claim over me. I allowed him to feed his male need to take me, and in return my aching lust was fulfilled. My body was awash in pleasure that touched every inch of me. It was more intimate than any kiss or stroke of a finger.
I almost regretted when my orgasm swept over me. It took me with such force that I was left both satisfied and exhausted. He continued to thrust into me, stretching my pleasure into greater, more delicious heights. A few moments later he stiffened and grunted. His body tensed and I felt him spill into me.
Then he was spent. I gasped when my lover collapsed atop me, but he soon rolled off me. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me close to his chest. The hints of fuzz over his body felt like a warm, soft cushion. I snuggled against him and sighed. He stroked my hair, and I fell asleep in the comfort of his possessive arms.
CHAPTER 8
I had a wonderful dream. I dreamed I found my soul mate, my husband, my lover, and we made love far into the night. It was a lustful, wild love that left us worn and weary, but content. I snuggled hard against his chest and he bolted upright.
I fell face-first into a hard mattress. The crash awoke me and my eyes fluttered open. I looked up and saw I was in a strange bedroom with a strange, naked man. The memories rushed back to me. The kidnapping, the Choosing, the loving. I blushed and covered my nude form. The skylight overhead told me a new day was just beginning, but my mind was stuck in the past.
I tried to make sense of what had happened, and how we'd reached the point that brought us to this morning wake-up. Maybe it'd been his alluring eyes, his tempting touches, his sweet, passionate words. They were all muddied together in a lust-filled haze. However, one thing stood out. His scent. That had been what broke my resolve.
I clutched my head and grimaced. My body ached like I'd gone on a drinking binge that involved taking a beer bath. "What the hell happened last night?" I questioned the man beside me.
He flung off the sheets and stepped out of bed. I couldn't help but admire his muscular physique as he walked over to a nearby dresser and pulled a new set of clothes from the drawers. I frowned and sat up. Maybe the sex had made him hard of hearing, so I raised my voice. "What the hell happened?"
"I heard you the first time," he retorted as he began to dress himself.
"Then answer me. What the hell was that last night?" I demanded to know.
Greenwood flung on his clothes and stalked over to the buffet. He poured himself another drink and I cringed when he downed the contents. It was too early to think about drinking, much less do it.
He set the empty glass on the top of the buffet and placed both hands on either side of the glass. His back was turned to me, and he was slightly hunched over. He hung his head between his arms. "It was the blood."
I frowned. "That stuff I drank last night? What was in it, an aphrodisiac?"
He straightened and half-turned to me. "In essence, yes. To be near one's mate, particularly at night and most especially on a moonlit one, is to provoke the werewolf blood. It craves a sexual union with its chosen partner, and nothing else short of satisfaction will appease it."
I tilted my head to one side and my eyebrows crashed down. "You really believe all this werewolf bullshit, don't you?"
A bitter smile slipped onto his lips. "I believe it because I live it, and at this time so do you."
I snorted. "Like hell I do. I'm a normal, sane human being, and this sane person would like to get into some clothes and get the hell out of here."
&nb
sp; He turned to the buffet and rang a chord that hung from the ceiling. In a few moments there came a knock on the door and it opened just slightly. A short, balding man of about fifty entered. He had wide, alert eyes and a quick way of moving that belied his old age. The man moved to stand in front of Greenwood and bowed.
"You ran, Master?" he asked of the young man.
Greenwood gestured to me. "Get this young woman some clothes and give her some food."
"Master, I have been ordered by your father to bring you both to breakfast with Lady Greenwood and himself," the man informed Greenwood.
Greenwood frowned. "Tell my father he will have to be disappointed. I have pressing business to attend to that he has created, and can't attend to his shallow wants."
The servant's eyes widened and his face fell. "But Master, he has commanded-"
Greenwood strode past him and to the open door. "My father's commands are nothing to me so long as he interferes in my life. You may tell him that."
The servant gestured to me. "And the lady?"
Greenwood followed the hand of the servant and his gaze fell on me. He pursed his lips and turned away. "Take her to my father. He wished for her so badly, he may deal with her."
I didn't have any romantic thoughts towards him, nor even much attachment, but his words struck my heart with a poison-laden arrow. I cringed and sank into the covers. His eyes flickered to me, and for a moment I thought I saw regret. That moment was fleeting, though, and he slipped from the room. The sound of his footsteps retreated down the hall and soon faded away.
The servant's eyes lay on the closed door and he shook his head. "You would never know he was a happy child from his disposition now." He turned to me and brightened his face with a smile. The man walked up to the bed and bowed his head in front of me. "But where are my manners? My name is George Gregory. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Greenwood."
