Wild: Hangman's Haunt Book 1

by Kay Elle Parker

  He chuckled when she hissed. “Sore?”

  He knew she was, Baylee thought with a scowl. Bastard. He was well aware of the consequences of his actions; the result of which she was paying for now. Even the cloud-soft cushion under her ass couldn’t alleviate all the discomfort.

  Baylee decided to ignore him in favor of the large silver dome in front of her. Her stomach roiled, grumbled like thunder preceding a wicked storm, and moisture filled her mouth. It was torture waiting for Daxon to take his own seat and lift his dome clear; she was a split second behind him.

  Her moan at the sight of the hunk of beef could have been termed sexual. A whopping porterhouse hogged the plate, along with a mountain of fries. Not cooked to her usual specifications—she liked hers well done and Corey knew just how to finish it perfectly for her—but the fact it had barely touched the grill beckoned to her beast.

  Sheba chuntered happily, ready to devour the meal. Manners indicated cutlery should be used but Baylee found herself tearing into the steak with her hands and teeth, losing a fraction of her humanity as she growled and bit and ripped through the meat.

  As though he didn’t notice her savage approach toward the meal, Daxon poured her a glass of wine, then filled his own. “The hunger can be a downside to what we are; changing forms alters our metabolism so we need to eat more, and with greater frequency, in order to fuel the shifts. High protein is best.”

  Baylee and Sheba moaned together in dual pleasure. The steak plugged holes in her body she hadn’t realized were there. She’d feasted on bucks with antlers pointed in the double digits, eaten as much as she could bear before slinking up into a tree and napping.

  The urge to do that now, to finish the steak and sneak away back to bed until it was time to hunt again...far too tempting. Baylee devoured the meal in record time, the fries nowhere near as palatable as the meat, but delicious in their own way. She all but licked the plate clean.

  Full, Baylee as satisfied as Sheba, she leaned back in her chair and eyed the steak on Daxon’s plate as well. If she were quick enough...she grinned at him when his lips twitched in silent warning. Even if she were quick enough to steal it from his plate, they’d end up in a wrestling match for it.

  “Good?” he asked casually, delicately cutting off a slice of meat and placing it in his mouth. She couldn’t take her eyes off the slow, methodical way he chewed, wondered how he could refrain from doing as she’d done. As if he read her mind, he cut another piece off. “Years of practice, baby. Self-restraint, the need to act normal in public spaces when eating. Your way was effective but driven completely by the beast. I’ll show you how to balance it.”

  She caught herself drooling, lusting after his plate. But she watched him finish his meal in silence, set his cutlery down just so, then take a sip of wine.

  He tipped his glass toward her. “Not drinking?”

  There was something decadent in his eyes, she mused. They promised wickedness, excitement—the kind that set her panties on fire only to be put out by the slickness of her arousal—and something else. Something...dark.

  Thrilling.

  Testing them both, she wrapped her fingers around the fragile glass stem, tilted it in his direction as she bit her lip. “Is it safe for me to drink? I thought the rule of play was safe, sane and sober.”

  His mouth moved into a lop-sided grin. “Safe, sane and consensual is what you’re thinking of. Nothing in the rules about being sober, although playing while shit-faced drunk? Probably not the brightest idea.”

  Baylee sipped at the wine, found it sweet and appealing. Another, longer sip and she set the glass down before she drank the entire thing. Now she had a hankering for something else. “I’m not known for bright ideas.”

  “I’d argue against that,” he smirked, “but after the debacle in the woods...”

  “My heroic effort to find you before you left my life completely,” Baylee retorted. Her grip flexed on the glass. “Which in case you haven’t noticed, worked perfectly.”

  Daxon emptied the last of his wine in one long swallow; her eyes were drawn to the bob of his Adam’s apple, the cords of muscle. “Tell you what, Baylee. Some of the best sex comes from being completely and utterly drunk. No inhibitions, no doubts, just freedom. In controlled circumstances, of course. Do you want to try it?”

  Suspicious, she pursed her lips. “Are you going to get drunk?”

  “No. That would be part of the controlled circumstances. One of us needs to have their faculties in order, and tag, I’m it.” He gestured to her glass. “Choice is yours.” He nudged the bottle toward her. “You decide while I go prepare.”

  Baylee studied him as he rose and headed for the bedroom. “If I choose no,” she called out after him, “what happens then?”

  “Then you don’t get drunk,” he called back.

  “But we still have sex?”

  His chuckle drifted from the bedroom. “Yes, Baylee. We’ll still have sex.”

  Excellent. So, sober sex or drunk sex? Why not start with sober sex and graduate into drunk sex? That sounded like a good plan, the best of both options rolled into one hot, sweaty outcome. She giggled at her own wordplay.

  Screw it, she decided, and tossed back her almost full glass with only a couple of swallows. Good stuff. Left a fruity tang in her mouth, and a soft warmth in her belly. Quite liking whatever vintage it was, she poured another glass and drank it with the same eagerness.

  Is this wise? Sheba asked with a touch of concern.

  “What’s up, bitch? Never been drunk before?” Baylee giggled again.

  I do not know what drunk is, but I am not liking the way it makes us feel.

  “Oh relax. It’s a fun ride.” Were her words slurring? “Sheba?”

  Yes?

  “Do I sound funny to you?”

  You sound like your tongue is too thick for your mouth, if that’s what you’re asking.

  “Baylee, who are you talking to?”

  She blinked at the doorway, saw Daxon in twin form. A happy laugh escaped her as she staggered to her feet and tottered unsteadily toward him, throwing her arms around him while she was still several feet away. She whooped when he stepped forward, stepped into her, and scooped her up. “My knight in questionable armor!”

  He turned and carried her into the bedroom. “Questionable?”

  Sounds filled her ears, ones that made the hairs stand up along her arms, and brought moisture rushing to her pussy. She blinked, head rolling to look at the massive wide-screen TV on the wall facing the bed, and the visage of naked forms romping all over it.

  “How drunk are you?” Dax asked as he knelt on the big bed and deposited her in the middle. “Baylee?”

  Attention riveted on the screen, on the close-up of a woman’s mouth closing over a man’s cock, Baylee didn’t even glance at him. “Two glasses.”

  Absorbed completely in the scene unravelling, Baylee lay quiet, only moving when Daxon ordered her to change positions so he could get her naked. Not that she minded; her body burned with the sexual urge to mate.

  “Daxon?”

  “Yes, baby?” He stretched, stripping off his shirt in a fluid movement that made his muscles ripple and dance over his chest and abdomen.

  “What are we watching?” Her eyes flicked away from his half-naked form, back to the TV. As delectable as he was, her curiosity won the coin toss as to where her eyes settled.

  His laugh was deep and dirty. “That would be porn, Baylee.”

  “I know that!” She flushed, cursing the heat spreading over her skin. “Why is there one woman and two guys? Logistically, that doesn’t make sense.”

  She heard the rustle of his jeans dropping to the floor and knew he was as naked as she. Her hips rolled, arching and retreating against a body that wasn’t there.

  “Does it not? How odd. Sure you can’t think of a way one woman could take two lovers at the same time?” He prowled to the end of the bed, blocking her view of the screen for a moment before he started
to crawl up toward her.

  She laughed. A sober part of her brain—Sheba, probably, she thought in amusement—became frustrated by her inebriation. The rest of her bounced along like a kid pumped full of e-numbers...or wine. “Maybe.”

  “Think carefully,” he advised, moving her legs and settling himself between them, hooking his shoulders under her thighs and tilting her hips back. “Tell me when you think you’ve worked it out.”

  “What are you doing down there, you idiot?” Baylee snorted.

  The snort became a primitive moan when his tongue ran along the damp seam of her pussy in one long lick. One hand fisted roughly in his hair, the other clutched at the bed sheets. How could he...oh God!

  A sharp cry from the TV snatched her attention back to the threesome on screen and Baylee watched with wide eyes as the actress enjoyed the very act Baylee herself experienced now. Only she didn’t have the cock of a second man filling her mouth.

  Oh God, oh God, Daxon’s mouth covered her sex with surety. He knew what he was doing, and he did it oh...so...well. Baylee’s strangled cry was a testament to his talent. His tongue had a mind of its own and the dexterity to wring a thousand orgasms from her body.

  “Good girl. I’ve wanted to taste you from the moment I scented you. You are divine.” Daxon hummed pleasurably against her sensitive flesh, sending vibrations rippling along her skin. “Hands above your head, baby. Keep them there; you can grab hold of the headboard if you need to. Move them, and I’ll bind you.”

  “That’s not fair!” Baylee gasped out the words when his tongue flicked lightly over her clit, his fingers teasing it free and holding her exposed. It embarrassed her to realize her hips worked against his face in needy little jerks, and yet she couldn’t stop them.

  “All’s fair in love and dominance,” Dax replied before setting his teeth on that delicate little bud. They scraped over her, eliciting a keening cry from her lips. “Scream for me, Baylee. Scream my name.”

  She almost did. The threat of teeth followed by soft suction left her balanced on the fine line of climax, a daredevil on a tightwire with only a toe to keep her there. His name filled her lungs, echoed into her throat, only to be swallowed back with gargantuan effort.

  He chuckled lightly, and she recognized the dark edge of it through the blood pulsing like thunder in her ears. “Baby want to play dirty?”

  “Why not?” The words squeaked free, breathlessly. “Sir obviously does.”

  His expression altered subtly, hardened a fraction. “Say that again.”

  “Why not?”

  “No, what you called me.”

  “Sir?” Baylee whimpered.

  “Yes,” he purred with that dark edge. “That’ll do nicely.”

  Okay, she decided, she could call him that. She kind of liked the thought of giving him a title, one that signified her submission to him. Sheba had already rolled over and exposed her belly to him, to the beast he harbored. This was different from the other times they’d come together, and both human and panther knew it.

  Submit, Sheba encouraged.

  “Eyes on the TV,” Daxon ordered, and opened her pussy with only his thumbs. He blew gently and set desperate flesh on fire. “Look at this beauty. All rosy and wet and warm, and all of it mine. I can do what I like with this, isn’t that right, Baylee?”

  She whimpered again. “Yes Sir.”

  “Excellent answer.”

  On the screen, the woman—a pretty little blonde—hunkered down on hands and knees atop the bed. Behind her, one of the impossibly muscular hunks she’d been servicing mounted her without ceremony, driving his cock inside her as she let out a delightful moan.

  Daxon’s tongue stroked inside her, lapping at her, driving her crazy. She clenched down on him, seeking deeper penetration, craving something more.

  “Daxon, please!”

  He ignored her, using his tongue as another man might use his fingers, building her orgasm back up to breaking point. His nose rubbed her clit, an Eskimo kiss in a wicked place, until she shattered apart in a glittering shower of sparks.

  Her senses returned a couple minutes later—she knew by the scene playing on TV she hadn’t lost too much time. And Baylee discovered just exactly how one woman could welcome two men inside her, much to her mortification and, strangely, fascination.

  “See something you like?”

  Her eyes snapped away from the TV to Daxon. He stood beside the bed, a length of material between his hands—no, not material, she realized, but one of the curtain tie-backs—and amusement written boldly over his face. “Does that not hurt?”

  Daxon’s gaze never faltered from her. He knelt beside her, drawing her hands up to the headboard and lashing them in place. He checked the bindings carefully, then grinned down at her. “I can’t imagine the first few moments are comfortable, if I’m honest. She certainly seems to be enjoying herself.”

  Baylee wiggled nervously on the mattress, testing her restraints. She’d give him that, she decided; the man knew how to tie a mean knot. “Why have you tied me up?”

  He stroked a hand over her sweat-dampened hair. “You broke the hand rule. I did warn you I’d tie you up if you removed your hands from the board, did I not?” He turned and showed her his back.

  Five livid-red gouges marred each of his broad shoulders.

  “Oh. Crap.” Baylee heaved out a sigh and tried to relax.

  “So my plan diverts right about here,” he said, brushing a few wayward tendrils of dark hair away from her cheek. “Either way, I’m going to ask you for a word, one you’ll remember, in case I do something you don’t like.”

  “A safeword,” Baylee murmured, recalling some of the heavier BDSM books she’d read.

  “Very good. Yes, a safeword. Can you think of one?”

  Nope, she was coming up blank. Honestly, she’d never imagined herself in a position where needing a safeword was essential; she’d had a hard time imagining herself having normal sex before Dax waltzed into her life. Her speechlessness earned her a compassionate smile.

  “It’s okay if you can’t. A safeword is a special thing, Baylee. It gives you the power to stop everything, to stop me in my tracks, no matter what. So for now, just in case, we’re going to use red. Got that?”

  She swallowed hard. “Yes Sir.”

  “Clever girl. Oh, and Baylee? This time you better scream my name when you come, or what they’re doing to that woman there—” Dax jerked his thumb toward the screen. “That will seem like child’s play compared to the punishment I give you.”

  She blinked at him, then glanced at the video. She blushed furiously as she watched the blonde being held upright, sandwiched between the two men as they rutted into her. “Oh boy. Yes Sir.”

  “I do like the way Sir rolls off your tongue, baby.” He walked away, over to the far corner where their bags had been dropped. He picked her case up, and the hiss of the zipper sent tingles running through her. He turned back to her with the dreaded toy in his hand. “Now, Big D here is a virgin. So we’re going to make his night and give him first taste of pussy. You’re going to be gentle with him.”

  No way. Baylee tugged at her bonds, writhed away from him as he sat beside her. “You’re not using that monster on me, Daxon!”

  His hand rested on her upper thigh, rubbed coaxingly. “It’s no bigger than I am, Baylee. It won’t hurt you. Granted, my cock can’t swivel three-sixty degrees and sure as hell doesn’t have these nifty nubs running down it, but someone designed this thing for this. So just lie back, relax, and let me make you feel exceptional.”

  Dubious, she eyed the toy up like it was a weapon of mass intimate destruction. As if he read her mind, he turned the vibrator on. It leaped into frenzied action, twisting from side to side wildly while pumping up and down. The protrusion near the base vibrated so hard it hummed. Her breath caught.

  His other hand kept rubbing lightly, encouraging her thighs to fall open. They did, the traitorous things, and she felt the cool brush of air agai
nst her wet sex. She felt swollen, prepared for penetration, and yet didn’t want it. She wanted to feel Daxon’s weight on her, his cock breaching her, completing her.

  “It’s only plastic and rubber, baby.” Daxon shifted, almost resuming his previous position between her thighs. But instead of hooking them over his shoulders, he knelt between them and braced them over his own muscular ones. “Just breathe, deep and slow.”

  He turned off the bells and whistles, leaving the toy silent as he ran the cool crown over her seam. Then it pressed against her, seeking entrance.

  It was bigger than Dax, she thought with a shake of her head. Maybe it was true about men and sizing, because Big D was going to ruin her if—she lost her train of thought as the head popped inside her, drawing a silent gasp from her lungs.

  Daxon’s encouragement passed over deaf ears as she gripped the headboard for all she was worth. The shaft rocked into her, an inch at a time, pulling whimpers free. “That’s it, baby. That’s all of it. Good girl.”

  Baylee gave an unladylike grunt in response.

  He hit buttons and sent the devilish thing inside her into what felt like maniac mode; her pussy lit up with every nerve imaginable, turning into one sun-hot center of pleasure. Not an inch of her was left untouched, pummeled by the swiveling cockhead, massaged by the shaft and those damned little nubs. The vibrating protrusion attacked her clitoris with merciless vigor.

  Her heels dug into the mattress, lifting her pelvis into the orgasm as it bit like a viper. She threw back her head and screamed Daxon’s name.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The nearer they came to their destination, the more Baylee withdrew into herself. Daxon worried over it as he drove, one hand on the wheel and the other holding Baylee’s. Their conversation dwindled to almost nothing, no matter how many openings her gave her.

  They’d been fine, he thought with a frown, after the tryst with Big D. She’d come, hard, and not only on the vibrator. The sight of her arching, screaming his name, had brought out his territorial instincts and given him no choice but to fuck her past her limit.