Chapter 2 #3
I didn’t respond because I was afraid my voice would give away everything that was running through my head.
“I want you to think about the fact that you’ll be telling me everything I want to know one way or another, but I’m very much looking forward to punishing you for your refusal to do so in the first place.
You should know that in the end you’re going to beg to be allowed to tell me what I want to know and then, just maybe, I’ll finish your punishment in the way it would please me the most before I finally give you permission to tell me what I want to know,” he whispered in my ear, his words tickling me in a way that made my pussy clench with burning need.
I shouldn’t want to fuck him.
I should want to kill him. I should want to use my silver knife to stab him right in the fucking heart.
“I’m not going to tell you anything,” I snarled.
I could feel his lips curling up in a smile against my ear. He was enjoying my defiance and I didn’t know if that bode well for me. For all I knew, it was just making things worse.
But he was a monster. He was a thing I could never trust.
“Do you think you’re in control, little human?” he asked, and I jerked my wrists in an effort to break my bonds once more. He chuckled and an ice-cold chill hurtled through my veins, sinking right down into the marrow of my bones.
“Who are you?” I spat.
“My name is Lawson Clearwater. I’m the alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack,” he answered.
I froze.
Everything started to make way more sense.
He was the kingpin of the Crescent Moon Pack, the alpha.
He headed the biggest wolf family here in New Orleans, which was really only opposed by the Venuti vampire clan.
Very few people knew of their existence because they liked it that way, but they were far more powerful than any human mafia families here in the city.
If either the Crescent Moon Pack or the Venuti Clan decided to eliminate the Gambinos or the Genovese family that reigned down here too, they could do it in less than twenty-four hours.
“Have you ever tried to fight off an alpha before, little human?” he purred.
I shook my head, glaring at him as he drew back just enough to stare into my eyes.
His irises sparkled like yellow diamonds.
The emerald had lightened to something of a peridot color, hidden behind the golden yellow that gave away his real identity.
His gaze was like looking into stained glass, but with far more power behind it.
I found myself getting lost inside his eyes before I forced myself to turn away.
“Let me go, you mangy bastard,” I growled, and he laughed openly before he leaned down low enough to brush his lips against my nipples.
“Get off! What are you doing?” I yelled.
“Such a bad, bad girl. It’s time you began to understand what a punishment by my hands means,” he murmured.
There was no time to prepare for what came next. I couldn’t have, even if I’d tried and not even if he warned me with what he was about to do.
He pulled back his lips with a snarl and used his teeth to capture my right nipple. He bit down hard, and I shrieked as the pain from before rushed back and escalated to something far beyond just the pinching of his fingers.
My nipple felt scalded by his harshness, and I tried to breathe through it, but his teeth pressed more firmly around it and I couldn’t stop myself from crying out.
The agony intensified, building higher and higher until it radiated across my entire breast, sinking deep into my body with every passing wave of it.
I tried to pull away, but that only made it hurt more, made the pain run deeper.
Instead, I arched my back and tried to press into his bite, but he pulled away with my nipple still firmly locked in between his teeth.
“Please! Please!” I cried out. The words flew from my lips before I could stop them. This hurt so very much, and I just wanted him to let go. I keened and closed my eyes, trying to stop myself from crying from just how much it hurt.
My nipples had always been especially sensitive.
Finally, he opened his lips and I fell back against the bed, blinking away the hot tears that were threatening to fall. My nipple throbbed hot, and I looked down, fearful that he had marked it, but there was nothing more than just an impression left behind from his teeth.
His mouth moved to the left side, and I panicked.
“Please! Don’t!” I begged. His tongue slipped out from between his lips and curled up, just licking the tip of my nipple with gentle promise.
“You don’t know me well enough yet, little girl, but you should know that it isn’t up to you. I will deal with you however I please. It will never matter how much you beg,” he warned.
He bit my left nipple after that. I don’t know if it was as hard or harder than the right side, but it felt worse maybe because I knew what was coming. I knew it was going to hurt, but experiencing it was something else altogether.
I thrashed beneath him, desperate to escape but it did nothing. He held my nipple between his teeth, tightening as hard as he wished until at long last, he released me.
I panted hard, trying to grapple with the pain as it gradually faded away. It throbbed with continual hurt, tiny aftershocks of soreness that refused to ebb long after he was through with punishing me there.
“I enjoy seeing my teeth marks on your pretty little nipples, but they aren’t pink enough for me yet. I’m going to have to make sure they’re spanked properly after I tear the rest of your nightgown off,” he threatened.
What?
He took advantage of my momentary confusion to shift backwards so that his body was situated just over my thighs. I still couldn’t move enough to buck him off of me, not that I could even hope to throw a man of his massive size.
He probably weighed twice what I did. At least.
He wasted no time in gripping the fabric of my nightgown and tearing right through it. It fell apart in his fingers as if it was nothing but a pile of threads, baring the rest of me in a matter of seconds.
I sucked in a nervous breath. The fabric scraped against my punished nipples as he pulled it away, and I whimpered softly as the ache from before intensified into a hard throb.
His palm cradled my left breast tenderly. I stilled, trying to study his face for any hint as to his plans. I saw nothing. Not even a hint of malice or anything else before the touch of his fingers faded away only to return with brutal force.
He smacked my breast, and I could only just watch as the marks from his fingers flared white and then bright pink, stark against the paleness of my skin. He did it again. And again.
I thrashed beneath him, trying to avoid his palm, yet still his aim was true every time.
He spanked all over my breasts and just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, he held me in place and smacked my nipple directly.
He focused on one side and then the other and just when I thought I would break and scream, he stopped and sucked in an appreciative breath.
“There now. Your pretty breasts are so beautiful when they’ve been spanked bright pink,” he mused.
He sat back and gazed over my bared body, admiring the handiwork of his mark on my skin.
He stared at me for what felt like forever, letting his eyes linger on the fullness of my breasts and the gentle curve of my waist before it dipped even lower to study the light blue lace trim of my silky panties.
“You will ask me to remove your panties, Ava. Ask me to show you just how wet they already are,” he coaxed firmly, and I shook my head.
I couldn’t ask him to do that. I wouldn’t.
“No,” I scoffed. “I’d never ask that of the likes of you.”
I couldn’t live with myself if I did.
“Do you think you can hide your arousal from me, little human?” he asked carefully.
“I’m not aroused,” I snapped. I’d never admit something like that, especially to him.
“Yes, you are, little one. Not only can I see your wetness seeping through the seat of your panties, but I can smell it. An alpha like me can sense it by the scent alone,” he murmured, and I gave one last-ditch effort to try to buck him off. I did it even though I knew I’d fail.
He laughed openly this time, and the effect was chilling.
His fingers grazed along the lacy hem of my panties, glancing just beneath it to brush against my skin. His touch was gentle at first, just gliding back and forth. It was strangely calming initially, pulling me into a gentle lull that maybe the worst was over for at least a little while.
That didn’t last very long.
He slipped his hand just far enough underneath my panties before he curled his fingers and grasped them firmly enough to hurt just the slightest bit. I jerked away as he pulled them tight enough to wedge the fabric between my wet and sensitive folds.
He held still for a moment, and I froze.
“What are you doing?” I asked nervously, my voice beginning to shake and reveal just how anxious I was beneath him. I hated myself for not being able to hide that.
He said nothing and simply jerked my panties harder against me, capturing my clit beneath them. Then he relaxed his hold just a little before pulling them up against me once again. The fabric of my panties rubbed against my clit roughly as he repeated the motion over and over.
The cloth burned. At first it was painfully jarring, and I struggled to think of anything more I could do to get him to stop. I’d run out of options. There was no getting out of this.
For the first time in my life, I was completely helpless. This man, this perfect stranger, could do whatever he wanted to me, and I wouldn’t be able to stop him.
Any woman in her right mind would have been terrified.
But not me.
Apparently, that thought in particular just made me wetter and even more aroused than before and now the fabric of my panties was rubbing against my clit and forcing me to face things I didn’t want to.
Forcing me to recognize my arousal.
Forcing me to admit the truth.