The Hunted (Sleeping With Monsters Book 2) (8 page)

“Last, but not least, this –
just for now,” he promised, and tugged a blindfold down, so all I could see was
black.

We’d played these games
before, but something about Vincent now was strange – he was nervous. He was
never nervous around me – I did whatever he said, there was no need. I tensed
in the chair, suddenly feeling trapped. 

Then there was a knock at the
door.

“Hey,” Vincent answered as the
door opened.

“Hey,” said someone else’s
voice. “Wow – she’s beautiful.”

“Uh-huh,” Vincent agreed.

I swallowed, as my heart began
to race. He’d brought someone else in here. Who were they? Was he going to
share me with them?

I heard the unfamiliar voice
chuckle, and then the groaning of the bedsprings as they both sat down on the
bed. I tensed, on tip-toes, leaning forward as much as my tied arms would let
me -- then heard the soft wet sound of shared kisses, and Vincent, I knew it
was him, catch his breath.

My mouth fell open around the
gag as I listened to them disrobe. The rustle of fabrics, as buttons were
undone and flies unzipped. Together their breathing picked up, low and rough,
and I could easily imagine where their hands were going, what they were doing
to one another, laying side by side. Then I heard a sharp intake of breath, and
another of Vincent’s groans, more guttural -- and I knew the stranger’s mouth
was on his cock. Vincent moaned again, and the other man grunted, and I knew my
man was giving his cock to him, fucking his mouth and throat.

I felt a pang at that –
sucking him was my job, and I didn’t want to share. I shook my head, trying to
dislodge the blindfold, willing it down, jealous – and hungry. There was no way
not to imagine them while I listened to their sounds, and I could almost smell
the sex. The ropes around me chafed but not as much as being on the sidelines
did.

When I heard the familiar
sound of a condom wrapper being opened I gave in, and dropped the ball I was
holding.

The action on the bed stopped,
and I felt a presence in front of me. Vincent tugged the blindfold down. He was
naked and beautiful, scars, tattoos, and an erection.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I looked over his shoulder.
There was another man on the bed too, one a little younger than Vincent was,
with more of a dancer’s build, not a fighter, but he was every bit as
undressed. I still had the gag in, so I couldn’t answer Vincent, but I prayed
he would see it in my eyes.

He gave me a pensive look –
and reached between my legs. I gasped in surprise, and his expression went from
worried to pleased with what he found there.

“Do you want to watch?” he
asked, massaging my panties into the wetness of my pussy. I nodded. “Or do you
want to play?” he asked. I nodded twice as hard.

“All right then,” he said with
a satisfied grin. He knelt to untie my legs and arms. When I reached for the
gag’s ties, he pushed my hands down. “Your mouth is just for me. Take your
clothes off.”

I hurried to do as I was told,
and when I was as naked as they were he smiled, taking one of my hands to pull
me to the bed like I was an arriving queen. The other man looked up at me
appraisingly, while playing with his cock. “Sammy, meet Angel. Angel, meet
Sammy.” Vincent spun me and pushed me on my ass into the bed. “I’m going to be
fucking the shit out of both of you tonight.”

And I learned that
while you may not be able to talk around a ball-gag, you can definitely scream
around one.

#

I sat on the porch and touched
myself beneath my robe. Just like Max had earlier in the day, I couldn’t help
it. If I kept my eyes closed, I could remember Vincent’s hands stroking me,
what it’d felt like to be pinned by his cock, see his face with each thrust,
hear the sounds of pleasure he made when he came in me. There were nights when
he wouldn’t come at all, when he’d just torture me, bringing me close with his
fingers and tongue and then falling away like the tide to other parts, sucking
nipples, kissing the backs of knees, until it’d seemed like my chance to come
was lost, and then he’d push his fingers back inside me – like I was pushing
mine now, trying to recreate something now forever lost – “Vincent,” I
whispered to myself, rocking on the wood, pretending that the sun beaming down
was his heat on me. My hips felt full, I needed it, I needed it, I needed it –
my orgasm gasped out of me as I rocked on the wood, quiet waves crashing on a
smooth stoned beach. I sat there, panting, my hand slicked with my wetness, and
sagged against the nearest timber.

Coming seemed to have granted
me some clarity. I had to get it together. I had to come up with a plan for the
future. A timeline. I stood and took a deep breath. No matter what I’d promised
Mountain Max, I needed to pace to think, and I couldn’t do that inside.

Since whatever way he took
into the forest was probably safest, I followed his path in.

It wasn’t as scary as I’d
thought it’d be. What I was on wasn’t precisely a path but I knew where the
cabin was and I wasn’t planning on making sudden turns. Branches and bark caught
at my robe, so I tucked it up around me, ever so glad I’d packed appropriate
footwear back in the day.

When had Vincent known it’d be
too late and decommissioned his own go-bag? I tried to think back, worried that
I’d missed signs. He’d been more stressed than usual – and a few months ago Syd
had come over, and Vincent had made me go away and wouldn’t tell me what they’d
talked about afterwards –

Lost in my own thoughts, I
missed a stick jutting out from a fallen branch. It scraped across my ankle,
drawing blood. “Shit –“ I knelt down. I doubted Max had any Neosporin up here.
I licked my thumb and rubbed the blood away – and saw what looked like…jeans.

I took another step forward.
They
were
jeans – and a shirt. The same ones I’d seen Max wear out the
door. His boots, too.

What the hell?

I stood and looked around. Was
he…out here? Naked? Doing…what? Watching me? The rustling branches of trees
that’d seemed so calming before now sounded ominous. I turned and ran until I
reached the cabin’s porch. 

Chapter Six

I trotted through the forest,
carrying a rabbit in my jaws. I was hungry and wanted all of it,
blood and
bone
, but remembered that I needed to share, so I only gnawed its head off,
to share the rest with
mate-smell
person. I shook my head at my wolf’s
foolishness, making the rabbit bob. Just because Sarah smelled like Vincent did
not mean she was a mate. That was just crazy.

I stopped in a hole I’d dug
into the side of a hill, and pulled my wolf back in, feeling the
pop and
stretch
of realigning skin and bones, until found myself gasping in the
dirt, naked. The change always hurt, even when you were prepared for it.

I could only protect her for
three more days before I needed to figure out somewhere else for her to go – or
for Vincent to come and get her back. I was my wolf’s master for now, but when
the moon was full -- Vincent had to know that when he’d sent her to me. He
remembered, I was sure of it. I stumbled out of the hole like I’d just been
born, blinking in the daylight, and picked the rabbit’s carcass up to walk back
to where I’d left my clothes earlier.

Two steps away from the
clearing, I paused.

Something smelled like her.

Was it my clothing? Because
she’d spent the night? No – it was stronger. I crouched down, feeling foolish
on all fours as a human – but my wolf found the fresh scent of
blood
.

She’d been here. Like I’d told
her not to. Shit.
How would I explain this?
I wondered, tugging my pants
on. Did I have to? Did I owe her an explanation? Not really. I was doing her a
favor – Vincent, a favor, not even her. I hauled my shirt on and buttoned it
and stalked back to the cabin, expecting to find her standing outside, mouth
full of questions. When she wasn’t there I took the stairs and stopped, halfway
up, scenting something unusual and yet familiar.
Sex
, my wolf informed
me with a whine. 

My hand on the rabbit’s legs
clenched. What was she thinking? You couldn’t just go leaving all sorts of
smells out here. It wasn’t safe. This was pack land.

I walked into the cabin,
braced for questions. Instead she just looked up at me from the couch, where
she was thumbing through what might’ve been the oldest copy of National
Geographic in the world.

“You’re back,” she said, with
a sexy voice.

I nodded, and held the rabbit
up. “See?”

She blanched. I’d eaten its
head off as a wolf, but the rest of it was intact and bloody.

“I’ll be back,” I said,
excusing myself, taking a knife and going back outside to clean the meat.

In a few moments, she was at
my side. Here it’d come.  

“Is there anything I can do to
help?”

I looked over at her, one hand
full of rabbit guts. “Not really.”

She made a face – not at what
I was doing, but at being rebuffed. “I don’t like feeling useless.”

I stopped my knife from raking
a familiar path down the rabbit’s spine, and thought hard. “You can stoke the
fire. And find a can of beans in the pantry – don’t worry about the expiration
dates. And when we’re done eating, you can take the dishes down to the creek
and wash them.”

“Okay.” She nodded, sending a
dirty-blonde wave of hair bobbing over one eye.
Sarah -good-smell-sex
,
my wolf muttered. 

I swallowed, and I didn’t dare
to look over at her again as she went inside.

Within an hour she was
scraping meat with her teeth off of rabbit bones. “This is pretty good.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. I did most
of my eating as a wolf, because what was the point of cooking without company?

It’d been so long I’d
forgotten all the problems that having company could bring. Like conversations
– and questions. There was no way she hadn’t seen my clothes out there today –
but if she wasn’t going to ask, I wasn’t going to offer answers.

She set the bones down on her
plate, and came over with it to reach for mine. As she leaned over I could
feel-smell the heat of her, blood at her throat, fatty weight of her breasts.

“I’ll be right back,”
she promised.

I quickly glanced out a
window. “Don’t bother. It’s almost dark.”

“It’s not that far –“ she protested,
still hovering.

“I’ll take you there tomorrow,
and make sure you know the path.” I took the plate from her hand and roughly
set it down.

It was time to talk. I
couldn’t keep waiting for her to tell me things about him, I’d have to ask
questions, even if asking made me weak – even if she told me answers I didn’t
want to know. I grabbed her hand before she could pull away. “Sarah – where is
he?”

Her face clouded – and at the
same time I heard a distant howl.

“Fuck.” I turned towards the
window. The howl dropped and then restarted. I knew who it was -- Karl, Syd’s
errand-boy -- and where he was. I stood, pushing her back. “I’ve got to go.”

“What -- why?”

“No time to explain.” I
started for the door, and then turned. She’d come after me once before – I
couldn’t take that chance again. Not with pack outside. I picked her up and
threw her bodily onto the mattress.

“What’re you doing?” she
shouted.

I planted a hand over her face
and hissed, “Shut up.” I grabbed hold of a pillowcase and flung the pillow out
of it, then gagged her with it while her hands scrabbled at me, leaving long
gashes with her nails. I could scent her terror, the bile rising in her throat,
as I wound the rest of the sheets around her, hands and ankles, tying her to
the bedframe. Her eyes were wild and she was afraid of me, truly afraid. I
breathed over her, for a moment feeling like the monster she thought I was.  

The howl called again. If I
didn’t answer quickly, Karl would come for me.

“I’ll be back,” I told her, realizing
that might not be particularly comforting.

I stripped off my clothing the
second I made it into the woods, and hurled myself down into my wolf’s form,
feeling the
pop and change
, a fraction of a second before I hit the
ground. Rebounding on all fours, I howled back to Karl, a warning,
this is
my land, come no further,
although both of us knew the truth. My job was to
discourage humans from coming onto pack land, and to keep it free of traps, but
I was only left alone out here because Syd didn’t consider me a threat.

The only time I’d gotten to be
in peace in my own skin, or as a wolf, had been with
him
.

#

Blowjobs, morning,
noon, and night. That was how it’d started. I craved to serve him. Any time I
could take his cock into my mouth I would. Kneeling in front of him, eyes
closed, feeling him slide in and out of me, hearing his grunts and gasps as I
sucked on him until he came, him looking down the flat washboard of his stomach
at me, jaw dropped in disbelief. I licked all of him, wanting to taste all his
skin, leaving nothing hidden. The scent of his musk, the dewy drops of his
precum, the feel of his hands on my back as he bent over to moan. I worshipped
him like a beast designed for it, trading my pleasures for his, knowing that I
would satisfy him and through that, satisfy myself. We didn’t leave his new
house for three days, because I needed him and he wanted me.

His hands flowed over
my back and chest, fingers raking through my hair, but anytime he ever reached
for my cock, I pushed his hands away. But this time I reached for him, he
pushed
me
back, bodily. He rose up on his elbows on his old bed in his
new bedroom and stared at me as I looked up at him in confusion.

“Max -- don’t you ever want
more?”

I froze. I knew from long
experience that packmembers who asked for too much got beaten down, so I didn’t
dare say a word, no matter how much the wolf inside me whined. His eyes traced
over my body, looking at my chest, my stomach, my scars, then met my gaze
again.