Declan #2
The sound cracks something open in my chest. Moore’s voice filters through a speaker I hadn’t noticed, mounted somewhere above the door. Calm as anything. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”
This monster. This fucking pig. I would give anything for the ability to shift here and now, to seek him out in this hellhole, to find him and tear out his throat for what he’s forcing me to do. What he’s forcing both of us to do.
The fact that Iris is only half aware of what’s going on around her—if that—doesn’t help.
It takes the guilt and hesitation that already live deep inside me and makes them spread like ink dripped into a glass of water.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, but the words fall flat. It’s also so damn flat and empty.
The disembodied voice rings out behind me. “Get to it. Time is of the essence.”
I bare my teeth at the camera. It’s an empty gesture, but it’s all I can do.
In some ways, I realize as I climb off the table, the collar around my neck is a blessing.
It’s keeping my wolf at bay. He would hurt her, weak and human like she is.
I’ve never needed to be careful the way I do now, as I slowly, reluctantly, take Iris by the hips and pull her to the end of the gurney, letting her legs dangle limply over the edge.
The memory of Tara’s scream sends a bolt of rage up my spine, tinged with worry for her.
Every moment I stand here, staring down at Iris and dreading what has to be done while my wolf howls ineffectively in my head is a moment closer to Tara screaming again.
I’m supposed to be able to perform for the good doctor with my sister’s safety on my mind?
The thing is… it’s not going to be a problem.
I’m rock hard, throbbing by the time I begin working Iris’s thin gown up over her pale, lean thighs.
She’s reaching for me blindly, lips moving, eyelids fluttering.
“I’ll do my best,” I promise, while excitement builds against my will.
Just like the rest of it, against my will. “I’ll try not to hurt you.”
Only I’m not sure how much of that will be under my control because all it takes is parting her thighs for her scent to reach me. That deep, secret scent that belongs only to me in this moment, sweet and musky, making me clench my jaw against the impulse to shove myself into her deep, hard, fast.
I owe her more than that. None of this is her fault, and she’s just as much a victim here as any of us.
“What’s stopping you?” Because the psychotic prick can’t let me forget he’s watching every second. “Do what you were made to do. Mate her. Now.”
That’s all I am to him. An animal. Some mindless thing.
And part of me is. With my teeth grinding and my fingers curled into something close to claws, I run my hands down her sides, taking hold of her hips, pulling her even closer to the edge of the gurney.
Her bald pussy—did they shave it? Did she?
Another mystery—calls out to me, all swollen and pink and starting to glisten.
She’s wet. Did they give her something to make her that way?
Did they prep her for me? I don’t know who I hate more as I lift my gown over my rigid cock and drag my swollen, purple head through her pink folds.
My wolf howls, but the sound is muffled.
My eyes drift shut as the sensations of heat and silk wrap around me and demand more. There’s no such thing as enough.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her again. Her eyelids flutter. Her eyes open. Two blue, unfocused orbs try to find me. They go wide when I press against her opening and push my way inside, where I now know for sure no one else has ever been.
I’m being torn in half as I watch her body arch, as her mouth opens for a silent, pained cry to come bursting out.
I feel her tight tunnel wrapped around me. So damn tight. Made for me—I can’t shake the feeling as I sink deeper, my entire body demanding I take her hard, rough. Her hands find my arms and her nails sink into my skin, but I’m too far gone to feel it.
Once I’m as deep as I can go, I hold still, breathing hard, fighting the almost overpowering urge to let go and do what nature demands.
So even though my wolf’s howl echoes in the back of my mind like some half-forgotten dream, I ease back, then move forward again, rocking her a little when I reach the deepest part of her.
And then she does it. She moans. Not in pain, but something deep and needy. She might as well toss a lit match on a puddle of jet fuel.
It hits all at once, that surge, something that goes beyond my human reasoning and can’t be suppressed by a collar or by anything else. The hands holding her hips tighten, pressing into her soft flesh so I can hold her still.
And then I drive myself hard, deep, so hard she gasps and stares at me with those wide eyes.
I can’t tell her I’m sorry this time. I can’t say a thing.
All I do is growl, then sink deep again.
And again. Hard enough and fast enough to make her body bounce, to make our skin slap together and make the gurney slide over the floor until I have no choice but to pull her off and place her on her back on the cold concrete floor.
She moans again when I stretch out on top of her, weakly pulling her knees back, trying to wrap her legs around me. Like her body wants this, too.
What was already so tight gets tighter. Wetter.
Hotter. I feel the wolf, know he’s as close to the surface as he can get now, know he wants me to lower my head.
To find that place between her neck and her shoulder, that place where it’s soft and tender.
Her nails rake my skin, and she moans again, breath tickling my ear while I do my best to drive her through the concrete.
“Dec… Declan!” It’s a gasp, surprise and pleasure all at once. “I’m… oh…”
And then she’s coming all around me, drenching me with her hot juices while her tiny muscles start to flutter around me. Trying to milk me. I close my eyes, press my mouth to her shoulder.
And I let it go. The release washes over me all at once. A burst of white-hot light explodes behind my eyelids, and for a second, I feel like my soul is being ripped from my body along with everything rushing out of my balls.
But it’s still not enough. Not until I sink my teeth into her and that light explodes again like fireworks, setting my brain on fire while rearranging everything in the world around this. Her. Us.
I might be on a cold floor in a cell with an audience watching on camera.
But I am exactly where I need to be. Inside my mate, my everything, bonding us together forever. I have everything I’ll ever need. My reason for breathing. For living.