Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
I’LL CARRY YOUR BAGGAGE
Despite trying to avoid them, yet another spritz of whatever chemical they’re using to keep me in bat form catches me in the face.
I’ve recently clued in to the fact that this means they’re about to collect another sample.
My heart starts pounding, and I bare my fangs at the humans on the other side of the window.
I know it’s useless, my displays of rage, but I can’t help it.
Not one of them sees me as the person I am!
“Look at me!” I snarl at them and beat a fist against the glass. “I’m not an animal!”
Two of them flinch, but they don’t look up.
I’ve caught her looking before, pity in her eyes, but she’s never done anything to help me.
That’s almost worse than being ignored. Like most of the others, he has never looked at me, only at the instruments in front of him. He won’t risk seeing me, only the work.
A panel drops down in the wall beside me.
I’m fast, but the robotic arm that shoots out at me is faster.
It clamps onto my wrist like a vice and yanks my arm upward.
I tear at the joints of the thing, trying to reach beneath the surface to destroy it and make it release me.
My talons can rip through so many things, but not this metal.
Whatever this is, I’ve never been able to do more than dent it.
Suddenly, my other wrist is grabbed, and then I’m slammed back against the wall behind me.
One of my wings is outstretched to the side, but the other wasn’t open enough and now it’s crushed behind me.
I cry out in pain, knowing at least one of the struts is broken.
I don’t want them to see the animalistic rage in me, but I can’t help roaring at them in my pain.
Something new happens then. They’ve never restrained my ankles before, but now I’m caught twice more and held spread-eagle against the wall. Could this mean someone’s coming in?
“Good morning,” a voice that I’ve come to hate says smoothly. Tall, blond, with blue eyes that are full of evil intent, his German accent is just strong enough to notice. “If you will recall, I am Doctor Edsel Barnabas, and you are my patient in this facility.”
“I’m not a patient. I’m a prisoner!”
“Today,” he said as though I hadn’t spoken, “we are going to take a new sort of sample. While the blood and tissue samples have been most informative, I do believe there is so much we could learn from your semen.”
“No,” I said in horror. “No!”
I feel a panel open just behind my ass and something lifts my tail out of the way as a tube comes around to the front of me.
“No!”
I fought the restraints off and stumbled away from…a bed? I was in a bedroom. Not a cell. No robotic arms held me. There were no probes here.
“Hamilton? Hamilton, are you awake?”
“Y-yes,” I managed, realizing I’d just had a nightmare while in bed with Wiley. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
My every muscle twitched as I watched him scoot across the bed and get up to stand in front of me. Only then did I realize I was in bat form, like in my memory. I shifted into my human form, worried I might hurt him. Worried that I already had.
“Did I hurt you?” A nightlight in the bathroom barely illuminated enough to let me see him as more than a solid shadow, and looking at him with infrared sight didn’t help.
“I’m not hurt.” He caressed my shoulders and down my arms to take my hands in his. “Whatever you were going through sounded real bad, though. Are you okay?”
I wasn’t. I didn’t know if I ever would be. But I nodded because neither of us would solve anything tonight.
Wiley sighed. “Well, you’re all sweaty, so how about another shower?” He stretched up and kissed my chin, grinning when he dropped back down again. “I can wash your back this time.”
We’d showered separately earlier, just a perfunctory rinse-off from all the sex, but I was drenched in sweat now and shifting again wouldn’t help that. I nodded before following him into the bathroom.
The little nightlight gave the room a soft, golden glow that might eventually feel soothing.
Wiley worked to get the water warm, and I stood there on the rug, trying to let the memories fade away.
Taking a deep breath, smelling the warm scent of my mate, I curled my arms around myself and closed my eyes.
I flinched hard when he touched me.
“Easy,” he said. “Come on into the water.”
Keeping my eyes on him, I watched as he lathered a cloth and gently washed me. He moved me however he needed, and I let him. The level of tenderness brought tears to my eyes, the shower dashing them away. Wiley cared deeply about me.
His touch aroused me, and touching me aroused him, but a horrible sort of fear started building inside me.
I wanted to lose myself in my willing mate…
and yet the memories of my torture were too close to the surface.
I swore I could feel someone watching me, someone lurking just out of sight behind me. We were alone but…
I eased Wiley’s hand away from my cock and tucked us together, holding his hand. He looped his other arm around behind me, holding on, petting a little. How could I tell him I wasn’t able to have sex with him right now despite evidence to the contrary?
“Do you want me to blow you instead, baby?”
I scrubbed my face against his hair, shaking my head, before resting my cheek there.
The hot water felt good on my skin, my mate in my arms felt even better, but though my cock was hard, I didn’t want to come.
I’d never be able to finish without thinking of what had happened during the rest of that nightmarish memory.
And I didn’t want my mind there when Wiley was here.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. He wrapped both arms around me, one hand gliding up and down my back, as he pressed us closer together. “Whatever you need is yours.”
Did I even deserve him?
That he was willing to stand there under the spray with me as the water slowly cooled meant everything to me. I’d never had someone hold me through the hurt, try to take it all away by sheer will.
“Thank you, Wiley.”
“Of course, Hammy.”
Oh, gods. We would discuss that nickname later. For now, I let him guide me from the shower and dry me off with a towel from the warmer. Neither of us were aroused now, and I was grateful that he didn’t seem to mind.
He held my hand and took us back to bed. The sheets were cool on my heated skin, and Wiley only pulled up the sheet to cover us both. He lay on his side next to me, his hand on my chest.
“You can be batty, if it makes you feel safer,” he suggested.
Batty… Sweet of him, but I didn’t hesitate to roll onto my back and pull him on top of me. He giggled a bit as I arranged him so that most of him covered me while his face was tucked under my chin. I felt him press a gentle kiss to my throat and hoped he understood that he made me feel safer.
I awoke alone, but that didn’t bother me as much as remembering last night did. Though Wiley had taken care of me and hadn’t said a word to make me feel bad for being so fragile, the light of day might change that.
Would he want to know what had happened? Demand to know? Should I tell him? Could I?
Finding a robe laid out on the foot of the bed, I put it on and made my way down to the table.
Someone had already delivered a feast, and Wiley was partaking.
Scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes surrounded him like soldiers guarding a fort, and he took a bite from each in that order.
His other hand held an iPad with a news site on the screen.
He had on a similar robe, and I could smell the wonderful scent of his skin as I came around and sat opposite him.
“Good morning,” he said with a grin. “Did you sleep better?”
I felt exhausted still but hadn’t had any more nightmares. “A bit better, yes.”
He nodded, staring at me, and then rolled his eyes. “Stop looking at me like that, Hamilton. We’ve both got traumas. I’ll carry your baggage, if you carry mine.”
I wanted to ask him about his. If they stemmed from me. If there was someone I needed to kill. But instead, I simply made the promise he wanted to hear and let myself relax.
“Agreed.”
“I’ll have the contract drawn up by this evening,” he said in a haughty tone, and I realized he was trying to sound like a lawyer. He loudly sipped his coffee with his pinky finger in the air, before going back to reading on his iPad.
I smiled as I realized I was falling in love with him.
Being fated mates meant we were compatible in every way, but it didn’t guarantee or force an emotional connection. That was up to us to make. And, oh, how easy he made it.
“Be sure to include a clause,” I said, playing along, “that states how often I can drink from you.”
He hiccuped a laugh before grinning at me. “Oh, of course. There’ll be an itinerary and everything. Gotta do it right, you know.”
I hummed in agreement and sipped my coffee, even as I scented his arousal beginning to perfume the air. “I adore a good itinerary.”
He bit his bottom lip before saying, “Any chance you’re thirsty now?”
I watched him untie his robe and ease it open, the sides falling away to frame his naked chest and abs.
He looked me right in the eye as he very clearly stroked himself just out of sight under the table.
I stayed where I was, taking in the way his lips parted and face flushed, his eyelids low as he stared back at me.
Only when he made a sweet little whimper did I dash around the table to pull his chair clear of it and drop to my knees.
Pushing his thighs wide apart, I dove in and bit his delicious femoral artery right there at his groin.
Wiley gave a sharp cry, his hand still on his cock, before he moaned and started stroking again.
I moaned, too, as he jerked himself right beside my face, and I drew his blood into me.
His other hand gripped my hair, petting and pulling, as I listened to him make the sexiest noises.
Very soon, he pressed me down tight to his thigh and came with a series of cries. His blood tasted even sweeter then, like the difference between dinner and dessert. Both delicious, but one so much more wickedly good.
While he panted and twitched with his release, I licked where I’d bitten him to seal the wounds. I could see them start to heal, but not as quickly as they should. He needed more of my essence inside him.
I took his napkin and cleaned the cum from his abs and his hand. Taking the cloth with me as I stood, I folded it and set it on the table. His gaze was on my cock poking through my robe toward him, and then he looked up at me with a question in his eyes. My actions last night had made him unsure.
Untying my robe, I let the sides fall open and petted his hair. “Please?”
Wiley gave me a brief grin before wetting his lips and grabbing my hips.
I watched in awe as he sucked along the shaft, cradled my sac in his hand, and grinned up at me as he teased the head of my cock with his tongue.
I smiled back at him, loving how playful he was, and cupped the back of his head as I held his other hand.
My eager, sexy mate took my cock into his hot, wet mouth and started sucking me off.
He was so beautiful like this. His eyes were bright and dancing as he stared back at me, like he was still laughing even with his mouth full.
He’d deep throat me, his eyes would flutter closed, and then he’d pull back slowly, staring at me again with that teasing glint in his gaze.
He fondled me, sucked me, and I knew without a doubt that he loved what he was doing to me.
“Wiley,” I warned as my orgasm sped up on me.
I couldn’t help fisting his hair at the back of his head, and then he had me down his throat.
I came with a shout, feeling his throat work on my cockhead like he was determined to drain me completely.
He pulled off slowly, bobbing his head a couple times to really get every drop, before he popped off and licked his swollen lips as he grinned.
I had to brace a hand on the back of his chair and lock my knees so I could lean down and kiss him. His mouth was so hot inside, soft and wet and tasting of me. It made me moan, arousal still singing inside me. I could easily take him again.
“I’m falling for you,” he whispered against my lips.
I opened my eyes to see his staring back at me, big and vulnerable. “That’s only fair since I’m falling in love with you, too.”
He chuckled before wrapping his arms around my neck. The only way I could stand upright again was if I took him with me. So I did. I carried him back to bed and asked very nicely for him to let me fuck his beautiful brains out.
He said yes.