Collared by Wolves [The Haunt of the Wolves 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (5 page)

The four wolf-men were now fighting in earnest. If she didn’t know any better, she’d have thought them all proper wolves as their snarls, yelps, and growls sounded totally authentic. So, too, were their dripping fangs as they sought to bite the neck of their opponent, their claws gripping tightly into fur before the other twisted away, turning in flexible ways that a human could never do.

Her knees were shaking as Natasha finally unfroze and turned away fleeing down the stairs and out of the building, pushing past bodies of people who all seemed to thwart her flight.

With trembling hands she finally managed to unlock her car and without pulling the seatbelt on she started the motor and pressed the accelerator hard. She had to get away—fast.

A couple of miles away she pulled over and leaned a teary, shaky head against her steering wheel.

The whole evening had been quite terrifying. She had seen evidence that werewolves really did exist.

Werewolves. Were—wolves.
She couldn’t stop repeating the words in her head. People who changed into wolves, into wild animals.

If that wasn’t extraordinary enough she had been caught up in a wolf fight. Okay, so she had started it. Natasha winced.
I didn’t ask for them to fight over me.
A small smile came over her face. Well, that was a first. She’d never had anyone want her so much they fought for her.
Ha!

“Oh dear God, what a night.”

Sitting back in her seat she ruminated on the events, biting a thumbnail as she did. Well, she had finally got her wish and experienced some BDSM. That had been exciting and scary enough. She sort of thought being “trials” they would take things easy and be friendly showing her what to do.

Natasha chortled.
Nothing of the sort.

In fact everyone in the place had been rather unfriendly. It wasn’t until the handsome man—werewolf, she reminded herself—had come up to her and taken her over to the St. Andrew’s Cross, that she had experienced any type of kindly attention.

Of course, she had chickened out when his mates, packmates she guessed they probably were, had joined in. It wasn’t that it
hadn’t
been enjoyable. In fact it had been blissful, but the sensations had been rather overwhelming. And, while she had been anxious throughout the flogging, it had also been delicious, if a little stinging. Oh, she could certainly get to enjoy BDSM if that was what it was all about.

Natasha looked down at her torn blouse and chuckled. The pain, fear, and anticipation mixed with the pleasure had been amazing, although she suspected the guy, Ford she thought he had been called, had been taking it easy, not using all of his strength.

She then made a face. She had forgotten for a moment that they were werewolves with superhuman strength.
Werewolves!
Dear God in Heaven. Trust her to get involved with something like that the minute she decided to try things out of her comfort zone. Something incredibly terrifying, and yet, they had been so beautiful to watch even when they had fought. And that reminded her of the ferocity with which they had attacked each other.

Natasha wasn’t sure which worried—or excited—her the most, the BDSM or the werewolves.

Brushing her hair off her face, she growled in irritation when it fell back again.

Dammit!

Reaching into her glove compartment, she pulled out a rubber band, rolling it over her hand in readiness to pull her hair through it to keep it tidy and stopped. Instead she played with the elastic, plucking it and releasing it, relishing the sense of tightness on her wrist. It reminded her of how it had felt when she had been tied against the cross and the sense of vulnerability she had experienced—and the exhilaration. The feeling of defenselessness had doubled when the men had turned into wild, exciting animals in front of her.

Closing her eyes she groaned. What had she gotten herself into? And what did she do now?

It was early in the evening.

Ford could still see daylight through the windows of the club and wondered how long it would be before the bulk of the members arrived.

Most people came after dark even in summer months, and, although it was getting into autumn now, the venue was still fairly quiet. Since this was outside human domains, there were no restrictions on the hours a club could stay open and this place didn’t close until daybreak.

In fact, that was the only way Ford ever got to have a scene with a woman at The Haunt usually, before any of the dominant alphas turned up. Therefore he had made a habit of arriving early. And he was thoroughly enjoying himself. The new sub, Evie, hadn’t realized that when a sub is collared by a Dom, like she had been by Master Stefan after the scene the other night, she was not supposed to play around with any others without his permission.

Ford grinned, recalling the look of dismissal on her face when he had told her.

He had an inclination that she might be doing this on purpose to get a punishment. Ever since Stefan had demonstrated the whip on her that first night, she had taken to it like a duck to water—or more appropriately, a wolf to its cave.

When she had come onto him a little while ago, he had been somewhat surprised. He would rather it had been the lovely human girl, but since that wasn’t likely to happen he wasn’t about to turn down a gift horse, although he had warned her what Stefan might do if he found out. So now he had Evie flat on her back on a tabletop in the middle of the upstairs room, her arms and legs dangling over the sides shackled to all four legs. The tables were deliberately designed so that any one of them could be used in this fashion with rings attached in readiness for restraining submissives.

Her breathing had quickened immediately, and her eyes glittered, showing her excitement. She hadn’t even tried to struggle. That in itself was a shame, as he would have liked to show her he could be dominant. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was beta and she knew it, but decided this was one wolf who would always allow herself to be captured!

And so Ford was showing her the delights of sensation play. It was something he particularly enjoyed. He undid her blouse and front-clasped bra and pulled the two halves apart so that she was bare-breasted.

“Have you ever been clamped before, sub?”

She gasped. “No, sir.”

He raised an eyebrow, amazed that someone so keen would not at least have experimented by themselves, even if it was something more common in human BDSM clubs. “In that case, I’d better show you.”

Momentarily leaving her, he went to retrieve the items he wanted and held up the clamps to show her. They were held together with a long chain which would dangle down between her globes. The coldness of the metal would make her shiver.

He had chosen fairly gentle clamps knowing Evie was still a beginner despite her eager attitude. Part of him wished it was a different girl lying there, one particular girl with bigger breasts. He shook his head to concentrate on what he did have.

Opening one of the clamps, he noted with pleasure that the metal ends were covered with soft tops. He glanced down at her and saw that her nipples were boldly waiting for him, puckered in readiness, so he had no problems placing the first one around the impatient nub. He did it gently and chuckled as she lifted her chest up wanting more. He repeated the action on the other breast and waited patiently for her reaction.

Evie’s face showed her disappointment, and Ford grinned. She was expecting pain, and being a typical submissive werewolf, she desired pain. Well, now she would get some. Turning back to the first clamp, he tightened the screw, forcing the clamps together over the nipple.

“Oh, my God!”

Ford frowned. “You know your safe word, don’t you, Evie, if it is too painful? Are you about to use it?”

“God, no.”

He laughed out loud. Well, that was clear enough. He continued to tighten the clamps for a while before deciding enough was enough for this session. She unreservedly loved it if her whimpers were anything to go by. Well, that and the wetness of her panties.

When he removed the clamps, she yelled and bucked her body on the table. He so loved it when the sub reacted as he intended. So he took hold of another item from the ice-bucket he had gotten earlier and rubbed an ice-cube over her nipples, supposedly to soothe the hot points as the blood rushed back into the area. It wasn’t something he had tried on himself, but girls told him they experienced something like pins and needles at that moment. But in actuality, the cold caused an intense sensation as they instantly pebbled.

She screeched at him as he ran the cube over the nearest nipple to him, and he grinned at her reaction. Her body shuddered, her chin went back, and her eyes closed as she moaned and jerked her body from side to side, trying to get away from him.

The keening went on as he ran the melting cube from one nub to the other. Anyone watching this might think he was torturing her. Ford knew, however, that she was enjoying his ministrations. When he stopped to ask if she’d had enough, she begged him to do it again. This was one pain slut for sure.

His mind wandered for a moment. Evie had pleasant breasts, but they were on the small side. Unless suckling their young, a female werewolf lost their breasts on transformation to wolf, so they preferred to remain in human form if they wanted their Dom to focus on that part of their body. But that was rare.

He thought back to what Callum had told him after the other night, that the human girl, Tasha he seemed to recall was her name, had a terrific pair of breasts. Ones he could get a good grip on. He smiled at the vision of a pair of luscious breasts with red hair tumbling over them.

“Don’t even think it, beta-boy.”

What?

Ford jumped up from his chair, startled by the interruption. His seat, positioned by the table, toppled to the floor. Behind him was Lance, an alpha from another pack, backed up by his ten-strong cohort, all of them into BDSM. In fact, all of them were into the darker side of BDSM and were universally loathed by everyone else in the club as they tended to push in and take over. They had even been banned at one stage, but the strength was in their numbers and no one dared take them on, and so they had just continued coming.

He instinctively stepped back at the command of an alpha. Then his need to protect the girl warred with his unconscious behavior to obey, and gritting his teeth, he went to move forward.

But it was too late. The alpha had positioned himself next to the girl and was squeezing her breasts. Lance’s packmates stepped in between them, snarling at him, their intention meaning “get lost.”

A roar came from the doorway. Stefan had turned up. He was Evie’s Master, and knowing it was best to stay out of it, Ford held up his hands in supplication and walked away, moving to the bar downstairs.

As he slumped into his seat he recalled the events of the other evening when Tasha had inadvertently ventured into their club. He smiled to himself. It had been wonderful when she had responded so well to his flogging. Even Callum and Max had managed to have some “play” with her.

He shivered in delight remembering how she had climaxed under their ministrations.
God, she had been good.
And then his grip on the glass tightened as he visualized Griff interrupting them, and his claws emerged, shattering the glass, his beer spraying everywhere.

Turning to those on the nearby tables who yelled at him, he apologized and shrugged, before calling for another drink. Leaning on the bar while he waited for Al to pour a new drink, he thought back to that night again and the fight that had followed.

In their human selves, the three of them could take Griff down. But when the alpha had turned wolf, even three against one, he was superior. He was bigger, meaner, and wilier. Ford lifted his right forearm to look at the healing scar, a testament to the injuries he had received.

Shaking his head, he sighed and made a face. It was unfair that the three of them should all get bruises, scratches, and bites while Griff appeared to be unharmed in any way.

As it happened, Ford had been the first to notice the girl had slipped away and had called the others to stop. It wasn’t worth continuing and getting seriously hurt if there was no point. He just hoped that she hadn’t seen them turn wolf.

He grimaced. No, he was sure Tasha had left by then. His shoulders drooped as he continued to think back to what happened. It was a pity things went the way they had gone. He had deliberately tried to put her out of his head the last few days, but he couldn’t stop reflecting about what it might have been like had she stayed. Max called it his introspective mood. Max, who was the empathic one amongst them, always in tune with everyone else’s feelings.

Well, Ford knew for sure that Max—and Callum—missed the girl as much as he did. He wondered why they were all so attracted to her.

“Stop it, you fool,” he chided himself quietly. Nothing could have happened with her as she was a human. Okay, so they might have had a night of it if they hadn’t scared her off.

Yep, if the BDSM had frightened her, she sure would have fainted at the sight of them turning into werewolves.

The door opened slowly.

Max, who had been watching Ford kick himself for letting the sub, Evie, get taken away from him, was about to go up to him, comfort him, commiserate with him. He had only stepped forward a few paces before the door opened, and he turned instead to see who it was and felt a weird sensation.