Wolfen Domination (2 page)

            “Because he tries to kill me every chance he gets
and he practically comes all over himself when you enter the room,” Freda answered
sarcastically.

            “You are disgusting.”  Erin got to her feet,
preparing to leave, for good this time.  These people
were
nuts.  “I’m a
scientist, not a … Geisha girl.  I don’t have to put up with this, and I
won’t.  Consider this my resignation.”

            “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice, Erin,”
Wagner said, studying his hands.

            The calm way he made the statement made it
difficult to absorb given what it alluded to.  It took several moments to sink
into her that he seemed to think that all he had to do was tell her she had to
and she would just cave in.  Well, cleaning up after them was one thing. 
Spreading her legs for that … thing they had chained in one of the holding
cells was another matter entirely.  Even if she was insane enough to consider
the order reasonable, what guarantee would she have that he wouldn’t try to rip
her throat out?  As the bitch had pointed out, he was dangerous.  “What? 
You’re crazy.  You’re both crazy,” Erin said, recognizing the hysteria seeping
into her voice as it grew louder.

            “I’m prepared to do whatever it takes for Nemesis
to succeed,” Wagner said quietly, standing and seizing both of her wrists in an
iron grip before she could think to try and evade him.

            He was strong.  Stronger than she’d supposed an
old man would be, but then, he outweighed her by a good fifty pounds. 
Adrenaline kicked into overdrive, making her blood pound frantically as she
tried to pull away.

            With all her attention focused on him, she didn’t
notice Freda come up beside her until she’d pulled Erin’s hair back and jammed
a needle in her neck, plunging the depressor and sending some drug flooding
through her veins.

            Erin screamed, jerking away when they released
her.  Almost immediately, the room began swimming before her eyes.

            “What did you do to me?” she said with a gasp,
clutching her neck, waving her other hand around to find support or balance,
anything to keep her from falling over before she could get to the door.  If
she could reach it, she could escape.

            “Formula 9,” Freda said tauntingly behind her. 
“You’ll find it makes the process much more pleasurable.  By the time it kicks
in fully, you won’t care what’s between your legs.  Of course, we haven’t
tested it on humans yet.”

            “Doctor Dallas, please.  Let’s try to remain
professional here,” Wagner said, sounding far away.

            Formula 9.  The words echoed in her mind,
bringing horrific images with it.  Oh god!  She was totally at their mercy. 
There was no one here who would help her.  She felt sick to her stomach.  Bile
burned the back of her throat as the room wavered.  The overhead lights blinked
like a strobe and then winked out entirely.

* * * *

            The mechanism holding the chains stretched tight
churned in the ceiling above, unreeling until the soles of Jesse Stone’s feet
touched the ice cold concrete floor.  Relief flooded him, but it was short
lived.  The churning continued, the chain lengthened until his arms dropped
limply to his sides for the first time in days.

            Wariness invaded him then, a mere flicker of
doubt, but enough to make him suspicious of their motives.  They weren’t
interested in his comfort.

            Without the restriction, and support, of the
chains after so long, Jesse swayed on his feet, stumbling back and hitting the
wall.  His shoulder joints felt like they would dislocate from the weight of
his arms.  Blood rushed into his hands, making them throb with renewed feeling
and the release of tension and taut muscles.

            Focusing his mind away from the pain, he looked down
at his manacles for some sign of a weakness in the restraints that he might
have missed, but he had yet to find any way of breaking them.  They were coated
with silver, black now from the reaction to his skin, but as strong as it was, the
metal beneath had to be titanium.  No amount of struggle had caused even the
slightest bend or warping in the chains or manacles, and they hugged his wrists
as though designed specifically for him.

            Within seconds of his respite, a jet of water
shot from above, blasting him with frigid water as it bathed his body and
sluiced away the refuse on the floor.  Jesse turned his face up and opened his
mouth wide, drinking the water as he rubbed his body to cleanse himself.  It
was the first time he’d touched himself in weeks, and the first water he’d had
in days--since they’d stopped giving him food and water to weaken his
willpower.

            His skin rippled with goose bumps as the flow
abruptly stopped, and the conditioned air shivered over his flesh.  He slicked
his hair back off his forehead, sluicing water off his arms and chest in an
attempt to quicken drying.

            The water at least filled his belly, somewhat,
and his mouth was no longer so dry he couldn’t swallow.  His throat still felt
raw, however.

            His comfort was not their concern, therefore it
followed that this had to be the prelude of yet another of their attempts to get
him to lower his guard.

            Almost on the thought, the bolt on the door
shifted as it was unlocked and the door was pushed open.

           
She
stumbled through.

            His gut clenched at the sight of her, at having
her in the room again.  He’d waited so long to see her, just a glimpse,
anything.  More than the promise of food that she always delivered when he
wasn’t being punished, the sight of her was enough to make his body thrum with
awareness, cause his blood to soar.

            She was the only thing, the only person in this
hell hole that made it bearable.

            Her hair was in her face, but he knew what she
looked like.  He’d had ample time to catch glimpses of her--her trim, athletic
figure; arched eyebrows and slanted blue eyes that were huge in her face, like
cat eyes, and compelling, captivating and intense.  She had a mouth that was
made for kissing, with her fully, pouty bottom lip.  And he knew from watching
her that she had a habit of rubbing the edges of her top teeth with her tongue
when she was nervous, almost like she could sense he wanted to kiss her.

            Her white shirt was rumpled and twisted at the
waistband of her skirt.  She leaned on the door, rubbing one bare foot on the
floor.

            He was so busy looking his fill of her,
unobstructed by swollen eyes or tangled hair, that it took him several minutes
to realize she hadn’t brought food, which was the only reason she’d ever come
into his cell before.

            The moment the lust fogging his brain lifted, he
was able to catch the scent of arousal in the chamber, clinging to the air. 
Faint, sweetly musky and so subtle it was nearly undetectable, the instant it
reached him his own arousal quickened his blood.

            Something was wrong.

            “What--” he broke off, moistening his lips,
clearing his throat in an attempt to lessen the harsh, gravelly tone of his
voice.  “What are you doing here,
chère
?”

            She looked up, her chin length bangs falling away
from her forehead to reveal eyes that glittered with fever … or a high.  She
cocked a smile, tucking a blonde lock behind one ear.  “They said you liked
me,” she drawled, her eyes darkening as she watched him, drawing her gaze down
his body with curiosity and something more.

            Almost like a caress, he could feel her eyes
touch him all over.  He grew hard.  His balls tightened, increasing the
unbearable pressure that had been torturing him since he’d been captured and
forced to endure their “extraction” methods.

            “I came to see you.  See if it’s true,” she said
breathily, walking around the lab table and crossing the room until she was
standing right in front of him.  So close he could smell the fruity shampoo she
used, feel the warmth radiating from her body, the brush of warm breath across
his damp skin as she exhaled.

            She reached up and traced his collar bone,
collecting the droplets of water that clung there as she smoothed her fingers down
through the center of his chest.  His heart pounded against his ribs at the
feather light touch.  His breathing turned erratic, causing his belly to jerk
with surprise as she traversed the rippled plains of his stomach, down his
happy trail to where his cock stood straight out from his body.  Her fingers
tickled in his damp hair, so close to where he craved her touch.

            Jesse sucked in a sharp breath, holding still,
waiting to see what she’d do, what she had planned.

            “Is this for me?” she asked, looking up at him
beneath heavy lidded eyes.

            He closed his eyes, steeling himself.  “No,” he
said through clenched teeth, the effort of speaking nearly killing him.

            He jerked in surprise when her hand closed around
his shaft, squeezing suggestively.  “It is if I say it is.”

            Christ!

            The heat of her palm felt so good.  Too good. 
This had to be a dream.  He had to be hallucinating from too little sleep, too
little water and food.  But no, she was here, real.

            And drugged.

            They’d decided to use her to get what they
wanted.

            He opened his eyes and grabbed her biceps, holding
her away from him.  “Don’ do that,” he said, nearly strangling on the words.

            “I want to,” she said breathily.  “I have to.  I
hurt, Jesse.  I hurt so bad.  You can make it stop,” she whispered, stroking
him, rubbing her thumb around the head of his cock even as she rubbed her mound
with her free hand.

            He shuddered, his fingers tightening on her arms
for a moment before he commanded them to loosen their death grip.

            He’d lasted this long without losing control. 
She wouldn’t break him….

            But his guard deteriorated with the insistent
pressure of her hands on his aching flesh.  His elbows bent, allowing her to
lean close, close enough to rub her sweet, tight body against him.  Her nipples
were hard through the silk blouse, and he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra.

            Jesse groaned, his arms involuntarily circling
her back, drawing her flush against his chest.  The touch of her body scorched
its imprint onto his skin, each nuance of muscle, each trace of curve imbedded
in the memory of his muscles.

            The agony of exhaustion was replaced with an
agony of searing, mind numbing hunger, a need so raw and intense his brain shut
out all but his need for possession of her.

            He’d been whipped, tortured, starved, but nothing
compared to the pain of having her in his arms at long last, so close one rip
of her shirt would allow him a taste of her skin, one shift of his hips would
put him inside her velvety, slick heat.

            “Yes,” she gasped, running her hands over him,
around his back, down his flanks to cup his buttocks eagerly.

            He was lost and he knew it.  The voice screaming
‘trap’ in his mind grew distant, drowned out by the roar of unquenchable desire
pounding through his blood.

            Uttering a growl, he tightened his arms around
her, pivoting abruptly and thrusting her against the wall.  She turned her face
aside when he bent his head to taste her, presenting her jaw for his hungry,
nibbling kisses.  It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.

            He wanted more.

            Pulling away, he ripped her shirt open, exposing
her breasts with a force that had them jouncing against her ribs.  Buttons
scattered like spilt beads across the floor, unheeded as he bent and swept his
tongue over her collarbone, tasting salty, sweet skin as he roamed down the
valley of her breasts.

            She moaned unintelligently, gasping as he closed
over one generous peak and sucked her nipple deeply into his mouth with one
long, hard draw.  She gripped his head, holding him there as he tasted her and
rolled his tongue around the taut flesh.

            “No,” she cried as he pulled free and tortured
her other breast with biting, sucking kisses.  He groaned deep in his throat as
he suckled, moving his hands up her backside, pushing up her skirt to discover
her ass was as bare as her breasts had been.

            The knowledge made his muscles flex, his cock
throbbing to be inside her.

            “I need you inside me,” she begged, her voice
almost alien, her entreaty cutting his patience.

            He was mad for her, and her quiet, persistent
pleading and movements wore down his resolve to maintain what little control he
possessed.  He straightened, looking deeply into her slumberous eyes as he
stooped and caught the back of a knee in each hand, spreading her legs and
lifting her up the wall until he could cradle himself between her soft inner
thighs.