Bad Boy Werewolf: Bad Boys of BDSM (Werewolf New Adult BDSM Romance. Bad Boys of BDSM.) (6 page)

Adam takes a sharp turn onto a dirt road then looks at me via the rearview mirror. “Like I said, Regina couldn’t tell you. It would’ve broken her oath to Glamour. We can’t reveal ourselves to humans unless there’s no other alternative. She was trying to help free Noah. As for Andre, well, you know his reasons now.”

***

Chapter 8

We drive through back roads that skirt the forest we were in the day before. Then we take some crumbling streets that look familiar, but inside Glamour all things are a little different, so it’s hard to be sure. A thick mist moves in as we travel, making it hard to see a few feet in front of the car. I ask Adam to stop long enough to let me pee, and my bladder thanks me. We also make a short stop at a house belonging to one of Adam’s friend—a fairy named Leonard who can turn lead into gold. He loans us some new clothes and then we’re back on the road.

Just as the sun slips farther over the horizon, we stop in front of the ruins of a monolith that was once a busy office skyscraper in Cosmo City.

“This is the Dark Moon lair?” I give the condemned building an unconvinced perusal as we all step out of the car.

“In the human world, it’s just an abandoned insurance building, but in Glamour it’s a home to werewolves,” Adam says.

We creep in through the back way, entering a murky hall that we carefully move through, keeping close to walls and shadows to avoid discovery. Instead of using the elevator, we take the stairwell up to the floor where we hope to find Rita. Scant light spills in from windows placed in the doors leading to each level, and it’s all we have to guide us upward.

When we reach the twelfth floor, Adam slowly opens the stairwell door and we slip out. Shock stops my feet and I stare at the gloomy sight stretching out in front of me.

“Like I said,” Adam speaks close to my ear, making me jump. “Nothing is as it seems in Glamour.”

A dimly lit prison rises two floors above us. It’s concrete walls are filled with cells, but most of them are empty. Weak fluorescent lights buzz and flicker above us.

We continue to keep close to the walls as we inspects the cells, finding nothing until we come to one near the end of a long row we’ve been inspecting. I’m the first one to notice her. My hands close around the bars and I whisper, “Rita,” to the redhaired form crouched in a gloomy corner of the tiny prison. But she doesn’t respond. She remains curled in a ball behind a thin cot, her head pressed to the wall.

“How do we get her out?” I turn to the men who now stand behind me.

Adam wiggles his fingers at me. “Would you believe magic?”

“Great, so you’re a wizard and a werewolf?”

“Some monster are also magic wielders,” Noah tells me as Adam curls his hand around the lock on the bars.

The lock begins to glow like a campfire and it melts away under Adam’s touch. “I’m pretty good with fire spells. I once cooked the face off this vampire that that tried to kill me. Nasty stuff, but it kept me alive.”

I’m not sure I want to hear anymore. But I don’t have to, because a smoking hole is left when the lock is ruined and I rush past Adam after he opens the cell door.

After crouching down beside Rita, I put a hand on her shoulder. She’s cold, too cold, and fear sours my stomach. “Rita, honey.” I shake her gently. “We’re going to get you out of here. Can you stand up?”

Slowly she turns her head, and the woman looking at me isn’t Rita at all. I almost fall on my butt as I stumble back and stand up. Her face begins to elongate, turning her cupid’s bow lips into a furry muzzle. She growls as hair sprouts from her pale cheeks and she springs to her feet, ready to attack.

“Move out!” Noah yells. “We’ve been set up!”

We walked right into the trap we were supposed to avoid. Cell doors creak and slam open and more werewolves spill out of what we thought were empty prisons. They snarl and speed toward us.

The cot in the cell we’re backing out of is thrown high into the air and crashes into the wall opposite. Eyes glow yellow as a burly man charges out from his hiding place. Before he grabs my arm and whirls me around, I recognize him as Pierre.

I struggle and kick against him, trying to bring my boot up into his crotch. Finally I managed to clock him a good one on the jaw, but he recovers from the blow all too quickly. Noah and Adam fight through the crowd of werewolves attacking them to get back to me.

“Merry!” Noah screams, just before sharp teeth sink into the tender flesh where shoulder meets neck and my skin is torn away. Warm blood soaks through my shirt and my knees grow weak, my head grows fuzzy.

A high pitched howl follows me into blackness.

***

Chapter 9

Groggy and aching all over, I struggle to wake up, and I find myself once more inside a forest. My shoulder feels like someone is raking hot coals through the open wound. Voices drift above me, and when I focus I realize it’s Adam and Noah.

“Awfully convenient how you take us to the prison and they ambush us again,” Noah says. “I don’t want to doubt you, Brigette, and Regina, but I’m starting to more and more.”

“Come on!” Adam protests. “They killed Malcolm. You think I’m going to do Dark Moon any favors? I want Pierre to pay for the bullshit he’s caused as much as you do.”

“I’ll believe that when this is over and Merry and Rita are safe.”

“Then you better get at it. She could die before the transformation completes,” Adam says, sounding agitated. “Do you really want to take that chance? The bite is too deep and she’s lost a lot of blood.”

“That was Pierre’s motive,” Noah growls. “But if I heal her, help her transform so she will heal, we both know she could attack me while I’m doing it. Her emotions will be running high and she doesn’t know how to control the wolf in her yet. I won’t hurt her.”

“Then you’ve got to make sure she can’t hurt you. I’ve got some rope in the trunk. Tie up her wrists while you do the healing.”

“I won’t do it without her consent.”

“Then you better get it fast. We’re running out of time.”

Footsteps move away from me, crunching through grass and twigs. A shadow looms over me and then I feel the heat of Noah’s body as he kneels down beside me and brushes sweaty hair from my face.

“Sweetheart?” he says, still stroking my face. “Pierre bit you deep, too deep. I have to heal you. Are you okay with that?”

I lick my lips, gather air into my burning lungs, then croak out, “Of course.”

He kisses my forehead. “It means we have to exchange energy, and that means sharing my DNA with you.” A pause, and his warm palm rests near my wound. “I have to have sex with you.”

I manage a weak laugh. “Like I’m complaining. Hurry up.” A watery cough bubbles up from my chest. “I heard Adam. I don’t want to die.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” His soft lips brush over mine. “This might hurt and could get weird.”

“Noah, we used to experiment all the time before you left. You can’t shock me.”

I close my eyes just as Adam returns. He asks how I’m feeling and I mutter a reply as he hands over the rope to Noah. Noah tells me to sit up so he can bind my wrists for his safety and mine.

It’s a struggle to get up. Noah places his broad palm between my shoulder blades and helps me rise. Adam leaves to give us privacy.

“Let me know if it’s too tight.” Noah sits behind me and the feel of his strong legs stretched out, touching mine, comforts me. So does his broad chest pressed to my back. Despite my wound and weakened state, desire flutters low in my belly. He lifts my t-shirt over my head and the chilled morning air skims over my breasts, making my nipples harden. Skin on skin is best for healing, he tells me.

The rope is rough but soft as he twines it around my wrists and knots it. He asks if it’s too tight and I shake my head. As he lowers me to the soft, damp earth, the fibers lightly scratch my skin. The coolness of the earth seeps through my fevered flesh.

“Try to relax,” he tells me, then his hands move to my pants, sliding them down over my hips. My sex throbs as it’s exposed, warring with the pain in my arm for attention. Lying naked in the woods, I’m hyper-aware of my vulnerable state, even though grogginess from blood loss lingers.

One hand stays close to my wound and the skin there heats up, pulsing as his energy enters me. A sensation like I’m lying in warm cotton fuzz envelops me. His lips press to mine, teasing them open with a gentle kiss. Electric air trickles down my throat as his tongue enters my lips, licking the roof of my mouth and them twining with mine. This energy hums through me, taking away the pain and slowly recharging me.

His mouth presses to the wound while his hands skim over my breasts, teasing the nipples with light flicks and quick pinches that make me gasp. The tingling in my sex spreads out, igniting a fire deep within me. The torn skin on my shoulder begins to pucker and tighten as it starts to close.

Lips move lower, closing around my hardened nipples, sucking until the sensation zips straight to my groin and I grow wetter. Hands explore my ribs, lovingly tracing each curve. Fingers sweep over my belly and massage my hips, molding to their contours to hold me still as he explores me. His tongue tastes the valley between my ribs. Teeth pluck at the skin around my belly button until I writhe under this torment. Liquid heat fills my belly button when his tongue dips inside and probes. The more he touches me, the more I feel as if I’m floating in an altered state of consciousness.

He spreads my legs and a thumb strokes up and down my slick labia, making my sex all the more aware and sensitive. I bite my lip as my eyes flutter closed and I swim in this delicious stimuli. His fingers part my folds and his tongue laves between them, tasting my juices and filling me up with more of his healing touch. The wet tip teases my opening, poking in and out, lapping at my opening until I clench around it, begging him for more.

Finally it sweeps over my clit and I sigh as a flood of bliss ripples through me. He flicks it rapidly over the swelling bud and I moan. My bound hands twist behind me, wishing I could touch him. The ache in my shoulder is only ghost pain now.

He slips a finger inside my pussy and curls it, exciting my g-spot with languid strokes. My hips rise up and down in a rhythm that matches his caresses. I float higher, farther into this glorious state he has taken me to as my body mends.

His tongue works in time with his finger fucking, making my pleasure build and build until it bursts and showers me with release. The first orgasm is small but intense. I tremble and something moves deep inside me. Something primal. Euphoria is washed away by spasms of raw pain as I enter the first stage of my transformation. My face begins to morph and it feels as if this skin rips apart.

Screaming, I open my eyes to find hair sprouting from my stomach. Flesh bubbles as the change continues. I’m sure my every cell will explode if this keeps up. Claws tear through my hands and feet as Noah watches me with an expression that shows both concern and surprise.

He pushes my shoulders back to the ground after I struggle to sit up, subduing me and the beast that stirs in my mutating genes. Now he sucks my clit deep into his mouth, flitting his tongue back and forth over it until I let out a cry that almost sounds like a howl. The tiny bead of nerve endings is ultra-sensitive after the first climax, and I fist my hands in the ropes, digging up the dirt with my talons.

His lips move to my inner thighs, raining gentle kisses across them. I thrash now as the transformation continues, mingling with my pleasure and my healing. He bites me just above the knee to shock me into stillness. I whimper and am subdued, but only temporarily. So he lets the emotions, the desire, bring the change on him, too. His eyes glow yellow as he looks up from between my legs. His face and teeth begin alter, and long claws dig into my hips once again to hold me still.

Suffering sears through me, but in the flood of lust and metamorphosis it becomes remote once more. My nerves have probably burned out from the agony. But as ecstasy begins to return, I rethink that theory, and I’m thankful the intense pain is replaced by pleasure.

One clawed hand moves to my belly and he uses this to hold me while his thumb brushes back and forth over my clit again, trying to bring me to another orgasm as his energy continues to reknit my flesh. His lips trail back to my cunt, and his teeth tug on my labia before his tongue once more traces up my wet seam. He fucks me with it until I growl and sit up, on the cusp of another climax. The beast inside grows harder to control. A sensation like I’m watching myself, becoming a passenger in my own body, takes over.

I snarl and try to sit up again. When he moves over top of me, brings his face close to mine, I try and bite him.

“Control it, Merry.” His guttural voice soothes me. “Don’t let it control you.”

Then his transforming mouth teases mine open. I realize the chance he’s taking, and the monster in me is held sway by the human who loves him. I could bite his face off, but he’s willing to risk that to help me. We exchange tender kisses as he lowers me back to the forest floor. His mouth moves to my ear and he teases it with teeth and tongue. His clawed fingers skim over my breasts and flick the nipples. I breathe hard, flaring my nostrils as I struggle to hold the new wolf inside me at bay.

When my beast rears up again, he flips me so my face presses into the cool, moist earth beneath us. The pungent, musky scent of dirt fills my nostrils and I let out a feral snarl before I snort soil up my nose. I cough and sputter as he positions himself between my legs. His palms massage my full, rounded ass. He squeezes the cheeks and the tips of his claws scald my skin as they dig in and draw blood. The side of his finger explores the seam of buttocks, between my labia, but he’s careful not to nick this tender flesh with his talons as he once more brings me pleasure with deft caresses.

I wriggle and roar at him as the werewolf aims to control me once more. He slaps my ass hard enough to shock me into submission. The sting radiates through my cheek and the pain is not unpleasant. It heightens my desire, in fact, but as the transformation continues I’m torn between wanting him to fuck me and wanting to rip him to shreds.