Silver Bullet Part 7

"It couldn't have been any deep-cover operatives, like we were. They'd never bring that kind of attention to themselves."

"Exactly." Max released the bars and raked a hand through his hair.

For the first time, Alec noted the weariness etched deep in the lines surrounding his brother's mouth.

Max's gaze, empty of all resentment, looked hollow. "But it gets worse."

Alec heard the despair in Max's voice and stiffened. This couldn't be good if it frightened his stoic older brother.

"Whoever the wolves are, they made a pact with a real devil-a winged vamp who's bent on taking the breeder for his own purposes. And he's not playing nice with his own people. He's kidnapped scientists-geneticists who can help him grow more winged demons in a Petri dish using the breeder's eggs. Zachary Powell isn't wrapped too tight. If he gets his hands on her, it's a whole new war. He won't honor any ancient treaty-he won't play by the rules. Our peaceful coexistence with humans will be over and we'll all be hunted to extinction."

Despite the chill his brother's stark p.r.o.nouncement sent quivering down his spine, Alec snorted. "A plague of locusts, rivers flowing with blood...what? Armageddon? Like any werewolf would make a pact with a demon like that!"

Max leaned close, his forehead halted by the bars. "It's already happening," he said, his lips twisting. "He has the three men who can make all this come to pa.s.s and he was at the breeder's doorstep last night."

"Sounds like a fairy tale to me. Something the vamps dreamed up to f.u.c.k with our heads and draw us out of our territory."

"Dammit, Alec! They killed Darcy. You knew her. She didn't f.u.c.king deserve to die that way. A G.o.dd.a.m.n wolf ripped her baby out of her."

Alec stood in rigid shock. "That would never happen."

"Well, it did."

"You saw it for yourself?"

"No, but he did," Max said, tilting his head toward Joe.

Alec narrowed his gaze. "And you believe him? What if they're using you? Feeding you a G.o.dd.a.m.n story?"

Max reached between the bars and clutched Alec's shoulder. "You've got to listen to me. Put aside your prejudice for just one G.o.dd.a.m.n minute. Consider if what I say is true. Life as you know it will cease. You won't have this cozy little town with your hot little were-b.i.t.c.h to f.u.c.k. You'll both be living like animals in the woods, hunting deer and mice to survive. And every redneck with a rifle will be hunting you for your hide!"

Alec jerked away from his touch, cold, mind-numbing shock threatening to overcome him.

It could never happen-not again. Not another b.l.o.o.d.y pogrom. The wereclans had been decimated before they'd fled the Old Country. They'd learned to coexist-they'd banded and accepted law, agreed to be governed by the lairds. They were civilized, sentient. How easily could all that be lost?

Alec swallowed against the horrible possibility and straightened. "I'll send a message to the overlaird. You'll get your chance to convince him. But prepare yourself. He'll probably still demand your death...and his," he said, lifting his chin toward Joe. He turned on his heel and walked away. His head reeled with all he'd heard, and his stomach churned over what the overlaird would do to his brother. It was too much to take in, and at the back of it all was the need to find Stasia. Now!

Already his body tightened. Every ounce of desperation, anger and need seemed to flow straight toward his c.o.c.k, making his muscles rigid with the need to cram himself inside her, conquer her-mark her so anyone looking at her would recognize his claim.

She'd flaunted herself before Max, before Joe, her avid gaze drinking in their physiques. She'd compared them to him. He'd make sure she didn't find him wanting.

The key to her pa.s.sion was submission-rough, even cruel, forced submission. He should have known. He'd watched her with Max all those years ago-witnessed the way his brother had handled her.

At the time, his stomach had turned at the frenzy of violence that overtook Max when he'd forced her, ripping away her clothing, restraining her hands and legs with his weight as he'd entered her in hard, pounding thrusts.

But Alec hadn't been so naive that he'd missed the clues to her arousal. The biggest being her pungent scent. While she'd screamed and clawed at Max, she'd ripened, her nipples had tightened to hard points, and her howls rang in his ears as she'd writhed beneath Max.

Unable to intervene unless he was willing to challenge his brother in trial, he'd bit back his objections and watched while Max ravaged Stasia. Hidden in the brush, he'd crept closer, his greedy gaze eating up the glimpses of her honed body-pale skin rippling over muscle, her dark bush framing slick, swollen p.u.s.s.y lips, and pink-tipped t.i.ts that jiggled with each hard thrust. He'd admired and envied her fiery pa.s.sion and the fact that she'd never conceded easily to Max's domination.

However, when it was his turn to claim her, he'd made the mistake of thinking she might prefer a wooing over a rough claiming. He'd coaxed and seduced-and when that had failed to earn her acquiescence, he'd commanded.

Stasia had responded with a little more heat to his demands for s.e.x, but her surrender was only a pale shadow of the pa.s.sion she'd relinquished to Max.

If Alec had never watched them together, he might not have known the difference, but he had. And his failure to bring her fully to completion-trembling, begging for his touch-ate at him.

Tonight, had been different. He'd acted on his frustration-and yes, a little jealousy that Max had been able to make her howl so easily. He'd scared himself with her. The violence that gripped him had nearly taken him past the point of control.

As he climbed the stairs, each step drawing him closer to the she-b.i.t.c.h who burned a hole in his gut for want of her, his body grew rigid, his fists clenched. His c.o.c.k filled to bursting and crushed against his zipper.

He'd give her seconds to strip or he'd tear away her clothes. He didn't care if she had to walk naked to her truck afterwards. That humiliation would put to rest anyone's doubt about who she belonged to. With her thighs glistening and the scent of her sweat and their combined c.u.m leaving a trail behind her, she'd be linked with him- irrevocably.

Alec would never give her up. Even if the breeder shared his bed, gave him children. Stasia would be the one to bring him to arousal-the one he was driven to mount and command.

As his hand reached out to the door of his office, all thoughts of the men in the pit below emptied from his mind. The woman with the silky brown hair and lithe body filled his mind and his b.a.l.l.s. He couldn't wait to see those pouting full lips close around his c.o.c.k.

He flung open the door and his eyes widened. Stasia's pert, naked bottom faced him as she lay draped over his desk. Her plump p.u.s.s.y lips were visible between her legs and gleamed with moisture.

It was all he could do not to drop to his knees behind her and lick her like the dog he was. Instead, he closed the door quietly behind him and adjusted his c.o.c.k in his trousers.

He'd figured out the way into her heart and pa.s.sion-he wouldn't blow this chance by cramming his d.i.c.k inside her now-no matter how much he ached to slide inside her juicy c.u.n.t.

Stasia rose on her elbows and gave him a glance over her shoulder. Her steady gaze and the tilt of her chin held a challenge. "I'm being the dutiful b.i.t.c.h now, aren't I?"

"Stasi-I'm not very pleased," he lied. "Now I'm wondering whether you're spreading your legs because you want more of me or because you're all worked up seeing my brother down there."

One dark brow rose, mocking him. "What the h.e.l.l does it matter? I'm here and I'm h.o.r.n.y. You've never cared before." She lifted her bottom and wiggled it. "f.u.c.k me, Alec. Maybe I won't give you another chance."

Despite the gut-churning need to follow the movement of her a.s.s, he kept his gaze glued to hers and narrowed his eyes. "You forget who's in charge here. I think you need a little reminder whose c.o.c.k is gonna f.u.c.k you."

She swallowed and licked her lips, her expression a little less sure of herself. "Now, how will you ever know who I'm creamin' for? My thoughts are my own, Sheriff."

Alec stalked toward her, knowing what he had to do to make her his. No more tender seduction. No more cajoling or commands born of frustration. If the only thing she respected was power, he'd show her who held it.

His hands slipped his belt free from its loops. "Baby, I'm gonna mark your sweet a.s.s so every time you sit, you'll only think of me."

Chapter Six.

"It'll be my c.o.c.k reaming your sweet a.s.s-my name you howl," he said, his voice pitched low, each word fired like bullet.

As he strode toward her, Stasia s.h.i.+vered at the hard jut of his jaw and the fullness tenting his trousers. Please, please, f.u.c.k me now. But she held back the words, secretly dying to see what he'd do next. This Alec was an unknown. Where she'd led the malleable man on a merry chase for weeks, this one looked as flexible and moldable as cold steel.

He doubled the belt between his hands and jerked apart his arms, snapping the belt with a crack that echoed like a rifle's report inside his office.

Her heart thumping with trepidation and excitement, Stasia eyed him warily. "I don' t know what you're thinking, Sheriff, but that belt better not come anywhere near my a.s.s, or I'm walking!" Her threat rang hollow, even to her ears, especially since it was delivered with a quavering voice. Not that she was truly scared. Oh no!

He cracked the belt again, and she jerked. Her traitorous p.u.s.s.y clenched and wept. For a moment, eying his tense jaw and hard gaze, she wondered if she'd pushed him too far-and whether he really had the guts to follow through with the threat.

Unsure and unnerved, she wriggled up, trying to find the ground beneath her dangling feet when the first sharp slap struck her quivering bottom. "Ow!" she howled.

His hand shot out and shoved her back over the desk and he leaned over her, the hard ridge of his clothed c.o.c.k burrowing against her p.u.s.s.y. "Not 'til I say so, sweetheart. You've been a very bad girl." He drew away sharply when she flexed to tilt her p.u.s.s.y and deepen the caress.

Stasia moaned her disappointment and struggled up, her breath catching at the next stinging snap. "b.a.s.t.a.r.d! I'm not a child for you to punish."

"No, you're not. You're my woman-and you won't forget it after I'm through with you."

The hard, unyielding tone of his voice set her pulse jumping and she nearly swooned when he striped her bottom with several more burning slaps of leather. "You think I'm gonna f.u.c.k you after this?" she shrieked, her anger a pretense. "You're crazy! You low-down mother-fu-ouch!"

"You'll address me with respect," he said, his voice cold and hard. "I'm your master, Stasi. Say it!"

The belt rose and fell, not hard enough to raise a welt-part of her acknowledged the care he took to avoid really hurting her, but another part reveled in his dominance and wanted more of his violence. "Never! I don't belong to anyone, b.a.s.t.a.r.d!"

"Wrong answer." He swatted her again, this time grazing her tender p.u.s.s.y.

Stasia's breath caught on a jagged sob and she sank against the desk, gripping the edge as deep inside her desire coiled tight, liquid fire spilling from her body. The next stinging glance against her c.u.n.t had her curling to rub her b.r.e.a.s.t.s on his desk pad, sc.r.a.ping the aching tips on the edge of the papers. She mewled and squirmed as the next stripes fell, warming places not yet touched by his careful punishment.

A hand caressed her bottom. "Your b.u.t.t's all pink and hot." A finger dipped into her p.u.s.s.y and her inner muscles clamped around it. "Jesus, you're hot. Ready to call me master, or do you want more?"

"You can go to h.e.l.l!" she said, sniffling, her a.s.s and p.u.s.s.y on fire. But her heart was tearing open. No one had ever cared enough to figure out what she needed. No one had ever wanted her this much.

The belt landed on the desk beside her face and he leaned over her again, nudging apart her legs roughly with his knees and reaching for her hands. His heavy weight pressed her into the desk, but before she could choke out a protest, he wrapped the belt around her wrists and cinched it tight.

She bucked against him, alarm lifting goose b.u.mps across her skin and spiking her nipples painfully tight. A frisson of fear seeping through at the calculated way he was forcing her submission. How far would he really take this? "Let me go now, b.a.s.t.a.r.d!"

"You don't make demands. You serve me, got that?"

"f.u.c.k you!" She bucked again, but only managed to center his c.o.c.k along the seam of her p.u.s.s.y. "Ah!" She convulsed, the first spasm of an o.r.g.a.s.m overwhelming her. She squirmed to rub harder against him.

"You need to learn your lesson," he gritted out and lifted his hips away.

She nearly wept with frustration until she heard the sc.r.a.pe of his zipper. Oh G.o.d! He 's going to f.u.c.k me now. Yes! She squeezed her eyes tight and held her breath.

The blunt head of his c.o.c.k pushed between her folds and air hissed between his teeth. But he didn't sink deep the way she thought he would-the way she craved.

His c.o.c.k sank only inches, enough to wet the head in her juices, and then he pulled away, only to tease her with another shallow dip inside.

"No!" She bit her lips to halt the litany of curses she wanted to scream.

His mirthless laughter gusted against her ear. He licked her earlobe and stabbed into her ear, making her shudder with delight. "Think I'll let you have it?" he whispered. "You want me to f.u.c.k you? Your p.u.s.s.y's crying for me to come inside. It's clamping so tight around my head, you can't lie about what you want."

"I want you off me," she gritted out.

"Say my name, Stasia."

"Stop playing with me!"

"Be a good girl." He nipped her shoulder in exactly the spot he'd gripped her earlier that night. "Say my name, like you really want me."

"f.u.c.k you!" she sobbed.

He dipped his c.o.c.k back inside, a teasing probe that stretched her, making her p.u.s.s.y tingle and ripple. "Say it."

G.o.d, she'd come if he just pushed a little deeper. Could she goad him into doing it? "I don't care whose p.r.i.c.k's inside me-you're just any old c.o.c.k!"

"Liar," he drawled. "Shall I leave you here, draped over the desk like a wh.o.r.e and invite one of the deputies to f.u.c.k you hard, like you like it?"

No, no, no! G.o.d, just you! Unable to hold it back, her shoulders slumped and her breath sobbed. "Don't-"

"Shhh... " He stroked inside, a little deeper this time and a hand soothed over her hair, petting her gently. The tenderness of his touch almost did her in completely. "I couldn't let them have you. I already told you. Mine's the only c.o.c.k that's ever gonna f.u.c.k you again."

He glided out and in again, and tears of relief fell to the desk. She took a deep steadying breath, savoring the sensation of his comfort now the storm was past.

Only he halted. "But there's still the problem of your punishment."

Stasia stiffened beneath him, wanting to howl, to scream the walls down. "Why are you doing this to me?" she wailed. "You don't love me."

"Who says, baby? Don't I love you enough to want what's best for you?"

"You think you're what's best for me?" she asked, her voice rising on a note of hysteria. He continued to hold himself still inside her while her whole body s.h.i.+vered and cramped with need.

Alec planted a kiss on the side of her cheek and nuzzled her neck. "Don't you know it by now? I know all your nasty secrets, your dark desires." He whispered directly into her ear. "I'm the only one who can give you exactly what you need."

Her forehead settled on the desk. She hid her expression, unwilling to let him see how shattered she felt. "And what do I need?" she asked, not recognizing the thin, faint sound of her own voice.

"To be punished."

Fresh desire leaked from deep inside her to surround his c.o.c.k. His laughter this time sounded strained as he lifted from her back. "Hold that thought, love." His fingers glided over her a.s.s and his thick thumb trailed the crevice separating her cheeks.

Stasia moaned a protest when he circled her sensitive a.s.shole.

"You're tight here, Stasi. I noticed that right off when I played with it earlier. Didn't Max ever f.u.c.k your a.s.s?" he whispered, fingering her opening.

"No," she groaned. "He was always in a hurry."

"I'm not rus.h.i.+ng your punishment. I told you I'd ream your sweet a.s.s-I keep my promises."

His hips drew away and he withdrew his c.o.c.k, leaving her p.u.s.s.y empty and aching. The cool air licked at the sweat that had gathered where their bodies met and the moisture clinging to her engorged folds. She heard the rustle of clothing and boots dropping to the floor. Her heart thudded, dull and heavy, picking up in pace when his hands smoothed up the backs of her thighs and beneath her belly to pull her bottom past the edge of the desk.

He held her up, clasping the notches of her hips and tunneled his c.o.c.k between her b.u.t.tocks, nudging harder when he found her tight hole.

Stasia hadn't the will to defy him anymore. She wanted him-desperately-any way he wanted to take her. She strained to open her legs and spread her cheeks wider to let him slip deep between. A drop of liquid plopped into her crease and his c.o.c.k circled, rubbing the moisture into the puckered ring of tissue.

Then he was there, pressing hard, working his hips side to side to screw into her, pus.h.i.+ng inexorably against the strong muscles poised to prevent his entry. His blunt c.o.c.k head pressed forward until she felt her a.s.shole stretch and burn. She whimpered. "You won't fit."