Pack, page 14
“It’s huge and it’s so you.” I say leaning into him and kissing his lips. “Do you come up here often with the boys or something?”
“We used to, a few years ago. But since becoming pack leader, there’s been less time off to enjoy this little retreat from the world.”
“Boo.” I state with a fake pout. “We need to look after you better.” Paris holds my gaze and says nothing and then it occurs to me what I’ve said and why we’re there and what’s supposedly going on all around us. “Oh. Shit. Right. That was kind of a dumb thing to say, huh, given…circumstances.”
“B, you couldn’t have done anything any differently. It was always going to happen, no matter what. Eventually positions of power drawer people to you. And it ain’t usually to hug you and give you an ‘attaboy.”
I sigh heavily and he leads me into the large living room where I notice for the first time that there is an open fireplace.
“See, romance. Told you.” He says again ignoring the pathway I’ve given him to talk about the past week’s kidnapping events.
“So we going to have roast marshmallows and sip wine by the glow of a roaring fire?” I ask smiling widely. The idea has much appeal to me. Especially dripping melted marshmallow over Paris’s mouth, lips, throat and well, anywhere naked and exposed, pretty much.
“That, little wolf, can be arranged.” Paris says with a smile. “If you hand me your cell.”
“Addison again? Really Paris? It’s not like we can’t walk to the shops or call the driver again.” I say producing my cell phone and giving it to him.
Paris chuckles at me as we sit down on a soft leather sofa together. “No not Addison. There is a how shall we say this, designer label supermarket up here that does special home deliveries for the right customers.”
“Are we the right customers?” I ask cheekily.
“Hmmm.” He murmers back at me “Yes, this is Paris D’arenberg, address,” He places an assorted order over the telephone for various wines, champagne, beer, cheeses and antipastio items, among a few larger grocery items before adding marshmallows at the end.
“We would like both sets of marshmallows, vanilla and strawberry.” Paris confirms to the supermarket. “Two packets of each please, we have a craving going on here.” Paris says as his eyes dip down over me and linger over my clothed breasts and down to my thighs.
“Also add, condoms, twenty four pack, large, ribbed and another pack of plain ones and lubricant.” He says without embarrassment naming the brand to the personal shopper on the other end. “Strawberry flavor of course.” He flashes a quick smile at me. “Do you need anything else?” He asks me softly, his mouth slightly away from the cell phone.
“I’m good.”
“I seriously doubt that.” Paris mutters before turning back to the cell phone and finishing up the home order. “Yes, and there’s an extra fifty in it for the delivery guy if they get that to us in the next forty minutes.” He hangs up the phone.
28
I suggest to Paris that we drag the mattress from one of the four bedrooms into the living room, where we make camp amongst pillows and covers, in front of the open fireplace that Paris has scoured up some wood for, so we can have a roaring, open fire.
“I think we need to order some firewood, there isn’t much out back that isn’t wet. We got enough for an hour or two here.” He says kneeling by the fireplace and glancing over his shoulder back at me. “And I have plans for you little wolf, nice romantic, slow plans.”
I smile at him, setting up our bedding campsite accordingly. “Yeah I think the two packets of condoms and lubricant gave that game plan away.” I mutter back at him. He chuckles unable to help himself, shrugging his shoulders.
“What can I say? You bring it out in me sweetheart and I haven’t seen you, had you for a week. Do you know how insane that makes me feel?” He starts working on lighting the wood in the fireplace.
“No, I don’t know how you feel because you seem to be intent on ignoring the big elephant in the room that is your kidnapping and our subsequent dance with dangers of the unknown.” I rush out.
Paris turns around sitting back on his heels, looking at me. “Want to tell me how you really feel B?” He asks raising an eyebrow at me.
“Yes, I do.” I say exasperated with his coolness. But I clamp down my mouth and shut up. I don’t want to ruin our intended romantic get-away, but I want this air clear about all that has gone on between us, without us and is due to probably go on with us.
“My lack of reaction is killing you isn’t it?”
“Yes!”
“It’s the alpha way Bg, wear ‘em down and keep your head on. Do it on your terms, not anyone else’s.” Paris says looking apologetically at me. “It’s a bit of an automatic habitual response to pressure actually.” He turns around and continues to attempt to light the fire, blowing on a flame now, trying to make it spread to the kindling in the fireplace.
“I’m not tiring to be antagonising on purpose.” He says between breaths on the fire.
“Really?” I laugh at him. “Cause I’m pretty sure Addison would disagree with that statement.” Two things happen at once that I am not ready for then. The fire catches and shoots up in a large flame against the wood before dying back down and burning respectably on the kindling. At the same time, Paris turns around on his haunches and leaps over at me.
Tackling me to the mattress he lands over me, pinning me underneath him. “I am going to ban you from saying the A word, very soon. This relationship is already complicated enough without adding an extra werewolf to it.”
My eyes widen as I look up at his, blazing lust and a hint of anger at me in them. The switch in his mood was like a nano-second split I didn’t pick up on until he was on me.
“Apologies, that starts with A. Could that be the A word you mean?” I say softly, breathing lightly as my clothed breasts brush up against his chest and we both feel the movement, it causes Paris to look down at them.
“You want me to apologise for my behaviour?” He says equally soft.
“Alpha, that’s another a word.” I reply sliding my arms up around his neck. “Annoying, arrogant, athletic and anxious, all words that could fit this a word theme and situation you seem to have us both in here. All I wanted to do was talk. “ He’s silent looking down at me, his eyes darkening. I can feel his erection brushing my leg. “I missed you. I missed the alpha werewolf I’m in love with and I was out of my mind with worry about you and now. I’m still worried about you and I shouldn’t have to be. But There’s this threat out there, that’s coming for us and you want to play like everything is normal when it’s anything but normal. I get that for the purpose of subterfuge. But I can’t wrap my head around it for us. I thought, I had you, all of you. “
He leans down his lips ghosting over mine and opening then, before his tongue plunges in and strokes me until I find myself squirming underneath him, trying to rub myself against his hips, that erection. But Paris lifts himself back on his elbows up so as not to make it that easy for me.
He pulls back and looks down at me. “You wanted to talk sweetheart.”
“Your timing sucks.” I pout back at him.
“Alakazam.” He smirks and rolls off me and leans in against my side. “You want all of me, you’ll have to take the bad with the good then.” I look across at him.
“Never said I wouldn’t.”
“Never said you didn’t have all of me, either.” He says brushing my hair back behind my ear with his fingers. “But I hate to disappoint you. So I’ll do my best, I’ll talk if that’s what you need.”
Now I kind of feel like a heel. “I need you and in order to get you,” I say putting a hand on his chest, over his heart. “I need you let me in and tell me what happened so I can help you figure out what we’re up against.”
Paris picks up my hand from his chest and kisses each finger individually, while looking at me. “I would never intentionally put you in danger B. Never, you know that right?”
I frown, what is going through his oh so smart alpha head? “Of course, I know that. Why would you think I would even begin to think that?”
Paris sighs heavily and I feel the reluctance in him to drag the words out of him. “Because I don’t want you to get the wrong impression about what I’m going to tell you, given what’s already been revealed to you about me, about my past…liaisons.”
“Talk to me.” I encourage him. “Let’s just talk.”
“I was kept in a room. It was grey; there was a half a wall looking glass mirror in it. You know the type you see in those cop shows that they look at criminals through without being in the room. There was one way in and one way out, through the door. I was chained in silver, to the floor, through shackles that allowed me to stand but didn’t give me much room to do much else. I could stand but not straight legged. I couldn’t reach either wall in the room. “
He strokes my hair back absently as he keeps talking. “There was a speaker system in the room and my captors spoke to me through that. But it came out like it was being used in one of those voice modulator things, you know, so you can’t recognise the voice of the person.”
Paris entwines his fingers in mine and looks down at our hands binding. “The voice wanted me to do things, was throwing commands at me.”
“Like what?”
“Basic stuff, break the shackles, show them my teeth, shape shift, do a partial shape shift. Nothing special. Which I thought was weird. Why ask me to do all that mundane shit. They could’ve grabbed any werewolf, even a beta werewolf could probably forfill some of their demands. It was so lame.”
“Unless you consider watching an alpha submit to your will, lame.” I mutter softly kissing his hand lightly. Paris looks at me, hard.
“Submission.” He says the word softly.
“Yeah, maybe it wasn’t really about them throwing those demands at you so much as it was more about wether you’d comply, or they’d break you into doing what you were being told.”
“Head fucking games. Merde.” He mutters angrily. “If I tried to talk to them, or get them to talk to me, the shut the room down in darkness ad had the chains retracted till I was in the position of kneeling on the floor with my arms pulled taunt behind me, uncomfortably. They’d keep me like that until I felt my circulation start to get cut off.
“Sounds like someone was trying to dominate you.”
“Fucking alpha games.” He lowers himself down onto his arm and places a kiss on my temple lightly. “Always got to be the top.”
“No, I’d think an alpha would be more in your face about it. Not cower behind anonymity and equipment. An alpha would let you know it was an alpha fucking with you. Because that would make it hurt even more. Would fuck with you more.” I suggest to him.
Paris looks at me. “God I love smart in a woman.” And we kiss again, and it’s warm and makes us inch closer to moulding our bothers together again. It’s like an automatic reaction in me to him. My werewolf senses are firing up like they might during lunar week. They want to touch, taste and feel Paris again. Because they have been deprived of him for so long. We pull apart again and look at each other with big smiles on our faces.
“Of course, me being me, I wouldn’t anything they wanted. Wanted give them anything. I refused to call out when my knees were being round into the floor, before they were tightening the shackles to try and make me haunch down to the floor. I wouldn’t tell them when the circulation was cutting off in my arms and legs. I refused to be anything but my usual, charming self for them.”
I laugh at this. Fucking with an alpha werewolf on purpose, trying to piss him off, who would be so completely stupid? Because if Paris ever gets his hands on those responsible, he’ll rip they’re goddamn throats out without blinking. He’s more than capable of it and I have no doubt. Would do it in a heartbeat. Such is the nature of his werewolf self.
“So I’m guessing that didn’t go down to well then.”
“Not really, but I doubt they were expecting me to actually be compliant, since they had me in chains of silver. This push-pull game between them and me went on for I don’t know how long. Then on the full moon night, they release me.”
“What?” I ask my voice almost hoarse. We didn’t see him on full moon night.
“No, I mean, they had some controls that released the chains on me, and they open up this part of the roof to reveal the moon in the night sky. The affect was rather dramatic and instant.”
I find myself holding my breath as I’m listening to him. “I mean, they waited till I was all but going crazy in there. I was bucking at those chains, straining with everything in me, fighting to feel the pull of the moon and fighting the pain of the silver searing through me.”
I let out my breath and unlace our hand and turn his palm in to my mouth, placing a kiss in the centre of it. “They opened the roof first, so they could watch the effect the moon would have on me while I was encased in silver. Then they dropped the chains, had them release me and the shift just poured over me, like a fucking wave breaking. Couldn’t stop it, even if I’d wanted to.”
“The werewolf of glory and past, an unstoppable force from the darkness, and memory lurks. There shall be no rest.” I say looking over at him.
“Where did you hear that? What’s that from?” Paris asks me curiously.
“Some Breukelen folklore story I got told as a kid.” I reply.
“I like it.”
“I like you.” I murmur back at him trailing my fingers down his chest. Paris politely picks up my hand and takes it off his chest.
“You might not after what I say next.”
I look at him expectantly. “The shape shift was sudden and I couldn’t fight it. Normally I can remember my time in my tribal form, afterwards. I’ve been taught how to do that.” I knew that, he’d been trying to help me hone the ability to recall my time once shifted. It was still a work in progress with me.
“But this time, I didn’t. Couldn’t. I put it down to the effect of the silver on me. But when I woke up there were a couple things different. The room, it smelled like sex. Heavily like sex and there was blood on the walls. Arterial spray. I was naked and once again, chained up in the shackles. I hadn’t even stirred, even in werewolf form or human, when they’d reshackled me. Which I think they would have had to do manually. You know, actually enter the room and cuff me.”
“You don’t remember how they did the first time?” I ask ignoring the questions that I really want to ask. Schooling the way I really want to respond to being told he had sex with some bitch.
“I’d been knocked out, injection. Came too, shackled.” I nod my head absently and keep quiet. We need to have this talk, I need to know all, the good and the bad. So I shall listen to him. Even to the things I don’t want to hear, ever.
“B,” He says leaning over me again and looking down into my face. “The sex thing, it wasn’t, it’s not like I had control over that. You know that right?”
I nod my head. Because logically, my human side very much knows that. He was captured, imprisoned and forced into his werewolf state against his will, the rage he would have carried through in the shift to his tribal form, it would have made him unstoppable. Like a berserker. Anyone in his way would’ve in all likelihood been killed, unless it was a female.
In that state of mind, denied his regular sexual partner and routine for a week, he’d have sought out sex over killing in a female first. Same thing, it’d be like an unstoppable urge.
“B,” He says softly as if trying to break through my werewolf-muddled head.
“I know.” I reply in a low voice. “I just. I don’t want to think of you like that, ever.”
“I know sweetheart, but they did it deliberately. It was a set up, to get me to that point and then put a female in my path. Whoever captured me knows a little something about werewolves and knew what would happen. Wanted it too happen.”
I keep nodding my head. I know that’s what happened, that’s what logically makes sense. I know all that. But I hate it all the same. I want my body to be the only body he is inside. I want my werewolf self to be the only werewolf he is attracted to and wants to mate with. I want to mean so much to him that his werewolf self won’t respond like that to anyone else but me. I want it to recognise I am his pack mate and soul mate.
“Did you kill her?” I ask suddenly having a thought.
“What? No. I mean,” Paris pauses. “I don’t think so. There was no body in the room when I awoke. Just sprays of blood on some of the walls.”
“And the smell of sex right?”
“B, please she didn’t mean anything to me. How could she?” Paris implores me with.
“It’s not that. I’m thinking, if she didn’t die, and they didn’t somehow let you know you’d killed anyone and you woke up and smelt sex in the room,”
“And um, felt it too.” Paris mumbles quickly.
I raise an eyebrow at him. “When it’s powerfully werewolf rough, my body feels it afterwards.”
“Where?” I ask him seriously. “Where on your body?”
“B, what does that matter?”
“Just tell me okay. My brain is formulating a thought here.”
Paris sighs and looks away from me as he says, “My cock and balls, they were throbbing and hard again when I woke up. Which isn’t that unusual given lunar week and morning erections anyway. My thighs, toes and foot arches too.”
“Toes and foot arches? Wasn’t expecting you to say that.” I tell him honestly. Paris looks back at me. “It’s happened before, when the sex is particularly, hard-core, use my toes for grip, strains my feet arches while I’m fucking.”
“Right.” I am blinking now. Picturing hard core, sexual alpha Paris fucking. Wow, what hasn’t he been doing with me and our sex life then? “So what I’m thinking is, after what you’ve described and came around feeling afterwards, that perhaps the woman in question is a werewolf, who could take that kind of behaviour from you in werewolf form. Because a human woman would be shredded after you were done with her.”
