The Midwife's Moon (3 page)

He didn’t need to. Unless Lance wanted to challenge the man, he had to do as told. “I can’t stay here,” he said in protest even though he had started to where Nolan pointed.

“You’re going to rest—and get some of the sweats on from the dresser in there—until Kamiakin can take her to the hospital. Then I’ll drive you as far as we feel is safe. Until then, sleep. We’ll take care of her.”

With some misgivings for letting her out of his sight, he did as directed. First, he took one last look at her in wolf form, imprinting it into his memory safely to store away with his first picture of her standing in the moonlight.

Chapter Three

Present time, western Washington

Roxy Whitekiller wanted to run. Hard. She wanted to kill and maim, and she was stuck in a house in the city. Fury rolled through her for about the hundredth time that day. The infernal rain poured unceasingly for days on end. Something else she hated. Her hair, her makeup, her clothes, her fur—it didn’t matter how she was moving about, she became soaked.

Boris was busy teaching Heather and the housemaid a lesson which she could join in, but she wanted a man to torture. Since she’d lost Lance with the rest of her pack, she needed to find a submissive male to be her bitch. Her body swayed as she walked, pacing the large living room of the old Victorian style house. She gazed with disinterest at the crown molding and exquisite restore job. All she saw were prison walls.

Her frustration mounted as she tried to find out the information she wanted. With Joseph locked up awaiting a pack trial, she only had her accomplice in the police station. All they’d provided was information the Ulfric had taken a week off for personal reasons. She kicked at the eighteenth century tea cart, sending it and the Waterford crystal on it flying.

The resulting crash helped, but only momentarily. She had her leg up, ready for another kick when the doorbell rang. Stomping to answer it because of the unavailability of the house servant, she swung open the door with a snarl.

Twilight reigned outside, the storm making it hard to see past the front walk. Streetlights glowed on the reclusive neighborhood streets, shining their cars up like bathtub toys.
Humans, so frail and full of themselves.
She hated having to hide her real nature and took it out on the good-looking man before her.

“What the hell do you want,” she snarled.

“I have a message from my alpha,” he said, his voice quaking.

She stopped her tirade and refusal of solicitations which had been at the tip of her tongue and looked the man over more closely. This man was pack. She took a deep breath. Yes, his scent absorbed into her. She gave him a sexy pout. He was paler than her tastes normally ran, but most of Justin’s pack were pale faces.

She took his hand and drew him in like an old time southern belle, pulling him into her web. Shutting the door and leaning on it, she gave him a good once over.
Oh yeah. Yummy.
His jeans fit tight against his thighs where his jacket ended, hinting at a muscular body underneath all that dreary, winter gear. His green eyes shone brightly with confusion, fear, and lust.

Excitement started pooling in her gut. Maybe her wishes had been granted. “What’s the message?”

“What?” he asked, fear obviously winning over lust.

She tamped down her wolf. The man’s wolf sensed danger, and she didn’t want to spook him.
Yet.
“From your alpha,” she said with a small amount of impatience.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said and fumbled in his jacket. “Here. It’s a note from him. He said to tell you that what’s in the envelope is a gift.”

Roxy snatched the cream-colored envelope and pulled the flap out.
A card?
Puzzled, she pulled out the expensive card with gold calligraphy writing on it. The outside was generic, but the inside... Her smile would have warned the weres in her old Lupin pack. Things were about to get scary. It said:

This wolf is a submissive. Train him well for your personal use. I hear he likes it rough with his partners. This is my gift to you for your time of waiting.

She tucked the card back in its envelope with shaking hands. Maybe she would rethink her plan of killing Justin right away. “Do you know what’s in this envelope?” she asked, rubbing her thumb and forefinger over the crease sharply to hide the tremors of excitement.

“No. Justin said to do whatever you said after you read the card.”

The fabric of her bra suddenly became an irritant to her nipples. “Come,” she demanded and left. He would follow her. Every wolf would know she was an alpha. Part of her wanted the submissive to challenge her right to order him around, but the bored part hoped he would draw it out a little longer before she had to punish him too severely. Much easier to get what she wanted out of him.

She moved through the great historical house, power flowing through her. Oh the days of being Lupa were temporarily over, but she had a taste of them again. After twisting the old fashioned knob to her room, she pushed the door open and gestured for him to precede her. He stared at her chest as he walked by so didn’t immediately see what she had inside for their personal time. Then he looked up. By that point, she’d moved behind him, and shut the door.

“What the hell,” he whispered, then tried to leave.

“Where are you going?” she said menacingly.

“He can’t have known,” he said, indicating her little game room with one arm. She knew he meant Justin, the alpha.

“He paid for it, pussy. Now”—she turned, bolted the door with a click, and faced him again—”crawl on the bed, lie on your back, and put your hands above your head.”

The man put his hands above his head, and she saw the bulge in his jeans. Justin’s little note was right. He liked it rough. If not, the room would have scared away any sexual excitement. The four-poster, canopy bed, draped in black silks, had special hooks drilled into them at strategic places. The items hooked to them were wide and varied, depending on how willing the sexual partner was.

She had silk handcuffs, silver handcuffs, iron handcuffs, silver and iron knives, and a motley assortment of other toys in the black dresser by the bed. “What’s your name?” she demanded.

“Lucky,” he said with some snark.

Narrowing her eyes, she reassessed her new submissive.
Better and better. It appears this one can go either way in bed. How fun.
Instead of the few hours tonight then dump the body session she’d originally planned, she may have to elongate her time with him.

She moved her hand from the silver handcuffs over to the two sets of iron ones. No silk handcuffs for him and she decided to save the silver ones for his next session. Clicking them around his right wrist while looking into his eyes, she said, “While in this room, you are mine to command, even better than you do your alpha.” He didn’t need to know—yet—he was never leaving her room alive. She planned to let him know when it would do the most damage.

His agreement came after hesitating, and she yanked hard on the cuffs and clicked them around the post closest to her. A quick grab of the second set and she roughly put it on his left wrist, a little too tight. He yanked his hand back angrily, but she pulled it up to the opposite post from the other hand and attached the cuffs. Much like a deer in the meadow will when she senses danger, he stilled.

“Don’t be like that, Lucky,” she coaxed, running her hand down his still-clothed chest. “I thought you liked it a little rough.” She had to contain her laugh when he relaxed against her and the bulge in his jeans enlarged. It was almost too easy to manipulate men.

The silver knife she kept on her person was her favorite. With a slow, evil grin, she grabbed it and started cutting his shirt off. Careful not to touch him so he wouldn’t know the weapon’s real silver properties, she tore the shirt and left it hanging in rags from his shoulders. She put the dagger under a fold in the blanket next to him for when she was ready for it.

For a submissive, his muscles were well toned. Roxy kissed her way down his chest. She licked and nipped as she dropped to his navel then flicked her tongue in his belly button to see how he responded. It pleased her when he sucked in an excited breath. Reel them in, get what she wanted sexually, then get everything else she lusted after.

As she ran her hand along the length of him through his jeans, she stroked, pushing, testing his pain threshold. With her hands, she snatched at the snap to his jeans and jerked the top open and the zipper down. With more force than finesse, she pulled his jeans and boxers to his ankles and pretended to struggle with them as she reached for the ankle cuffs on the end of the bed. Weres hated being cuffed, could stand it during sex play, but even then it was torture for the ankles to be restrained. However, she thought better of it and left his jeans around his ankles.
Better get him desperate for more first.

Instead, she stood up at the end of the bed and took her own clothes off, starting with her shirt. She released her bra as soon as she was able then moved to her pants. A part of her screamed to get on with it. The sooner she had her fill, the sooner she could start letting blood. Just to prove she could control herself whenever she wanted, she made each movement slower, deliberate, and refused to give in to the blood lust rising at his nearly helpless position.

However, until his feet had the stronger ankle cuffs, he wouldn’t be completely helpless. Didn’t matter. She could take him without his hands being tied up, but it provided her with more fun to do the killing slowly. It had been too long since she had had the pleasure of a slow kill. Always before, she’d had to be mindful of Heather and her daughter, Alex, trying to take over and getting pack sympathy. She had to make a pretense something was good for the pack. Heather was getting her comeuppance and her daughter would soon learn.

Lucky would pay for the sins of the others. It couldn’t be helped. The screaming need for blood and violence started as a tingle in her belly, moved to her crotch, then spread throughout her body, sensitizing it. Images of her using the knife to cut him up as she had his shirt flitted across her mind, but she banished it. First, she needed to feel him between her legs.

She crawled back up the bed from the foot of it, trailing her long, blood-red nails up his legs, breathing over his balls, nipping on his inner thighs. With her fingernails, she scraped the underside of his balls and stroked his dick as she put her red, pouty mouth to the tip. He was hard and wanting her despite his uncertainty.

Then she licked the head and took him into her mouth, deep. She sucked him hard until he moaned then she bit his shaft about half way down, leaving marks. He bucked, and she kept sucking, assuring he would stay hard. His moaning had turned to a small yelp then back to moans again. Certain he wouldn’t lose his hard-on, she crawled up his body, letting her dark nipples rub against his chest hair.

She brought her lips a whisper away from his, but refused to kiss him. He arched his back trying to bring her close enough. This was purely to torture him since she liked controlling a man’s reaction to her but didn’t want his lips on her body.

Roxy sunk back to his hard-on and rubbed herself against him faster until she had the reaction she wanted. With raised hips, she held him steady, and descended down on him all the way. It felt good to have a man again. Too many days had passed without even her beloved pet for release.

He moaned out loud, and she used her muscles to clench around his dick as she raised and lowered herself. It felt good sexually, but it also felt great controlling his body. The power started to hum through her. However, soon it was not enough to get him to feel the pleasure and know she would be denying him it in the end. She wanted so much more. Abruptly, she raised herself off him and went back to just rubbing him with her vulva.

“Do you like that, Lucky? Do you like having your newest alpha female rock your world?” He moaned as she put more pressure on his cock then let the head set at her entrance. “Answer me, Lucky.”

“Yes,” he rasped out.

“Good. Because I’m going to stop unless you cooperate with me.” She pushed her hips down the length of his shaft again as she leaned with her back on the bed but keeping him inside of her. Stretching her arms above her, she reached for the ankle cuffs and put one on each leg. He started to squirm but with her riding him, the movement only pushed him deeper into her, and he involuntarily moaned.

She deftly attached one leg to the corresponding bedpost and started parting his legs with the other cuff until he was spread eagle. Quickly, she attached the other cuff when he really started bucking under her then sat back up.

“That’s it, Lucky. Ride it out with me. Come on. You’re a wolf,” she said, and leaned over him again, still rocking her hips over his, making sure her nipples slid across his chest. “You like having your limbs chained up?”

His answer was quick and emphatic. “No.”

“Show me how much you hate it. Use your hips for leverage. Buck me off, Lucky. If you can get me off before I’m ready to get off, I’ll let you go early,” she said sexily. Was it her fault if he thought she meant he needed to make her come?

His face flushed and anxiety and lust warred in his eyes, but his hip action kept going. He rode her from underneath with as much play as his spread eagle position allowed. She threw her head back and laughed.
The power.
“Yes, that’s it,” she said hoarsely.

She ran her hands down her chest, cupping her boobs as if to offer them to him. His eyes darkened even more. The tenseness of an orgasm being close began to fill her, and she pushed down hard to meet his upward thrust, wanting him deeper, wanting more, but unable to find it. Sweat glistened off her naturally bronzed skin and still she couldn’t find release. Frustration ate at her. Over and over, she gave her body to nobodies like this. They performed, but her body wouldn’t give her the orgasm she sought.

Anger rode her as hard as Lucky. Her mind became a red haze as she searched for the elusive orgasm. If only Nolan had been hers. She knew she would get release if she ever had him in the position Lucky was in. Lust sped through her imagining it was Nolan beneath her trying to get free of the trap.