Dark Wrath (2 page)

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 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.

He tried to kiss
her again, but she arched her head back, avoiding his lips as they climbed over
her jaw and throat before tugging at one earlobe.

Her arousal had
seeped down her legs.  His hips slipped against them, and the knowledge
that she was so ready for him increased his libido tenfold.  Grunting in
the back of his throat, scraping her tender throat with his teeth, he curled
his hips forward.  The cream of her want gathered on his cockhead as he
closed the distance and split the petals of her sex down the middle as he
sought entrance.

Her nails scraped
down his spine, digging into the tops of his buttocks, urging him, prodding him
to take her hard and hot and violently.

The beast inside
him awakened to the faint scent of his blood and her lust, growling with the
hunger barely checked.

“Do it,” she
cried, sending him over the edge of reason into madness.

He thrust past
the tender edged hole, plunging hard and deep into her tight pussy.  She
screamed, shuddering against him, her inner muscles clenching around him as if
that could halt the drive that took him deep into her womb.

He stopped when
he could go no deeper, instantly breaking into a sweat with the strain of
holding still when he wanted--needed--to pump into her like a madman until he’d
spilled his seed.  His nostrils flared with his violent breathing. 
The restraint gnawed like a cancer, eating away self-control.

He wouldn’t cum
inside her.  It was what they wanted, why they had tortured him for so
long.  He couldn’t let them break him with her.  It became a mantra
inside his head as he withdrew to the tip and plunged inside again, repeating
the promise with each stroke, feeling as if he would die with the pleasure of
impaling his flesh in her warm, wet cunt.

She was moaning
and gasping incessantly now, her body climbing toward climax.  He felt the
change in her muscles as they clenched and unclenched around his cock, scented
the perfumed arousal as it increased its flow to ease his way, to staunch the
burning drive of his thick strokes.

Orgasm burst upon
her suddenly, wringing cries from her throat, shudders from deep within. 
She rippled around him, pulling his flesh, torturing him, drawing him to
disaster.  He gritted his teeth, pumping into her harder, barely
restrained, growling as he sucked her jawline.

He couldn’t
breathe.  Couldn’t think for the pressure building in his sac.  He
was going to explode.

Sweet release
beckoned, tortured him with its siren call.

Her cunt scorched
his flesh.  The need to ram inside her again and again held him in its
fierce grip.  Jesse bit her neck, sucked a love bite there as he fought
himself, and the ravaging beast inside him that demanded its appetite be
appeased.

“Please,” she
screamed as her body seized in another climax and another, and still he
couldn’t pull away.  “Please cum.  Cum inside me.  Oh Jesus,
please, please….”

He growled
against her throat, felt frustrated tears squeeze from his clenched lids. 
His balls tightened.  His shaft throbbed.  The blood in his veins
burned, turned molten as pressure increased until he couldn’t breathe.  He
gasped for air, and a hoarse cry tore from his throat as his cock erupted.

He was
gone.  Too far gone.  He couldn’t stop.  Mindlessly, he drove
inside her, pinning her against the wall, his hips slamming into her as he
moved like a madman.  Semen spewed within her depths, bathing her
insides.  Her cunt seized on him, clutching, drawing out every drop he had
within him, until he collapsed his weight against her and weakly released her
legs to drop to the floor.

A shudder wracked
his body.  He caressed her face as he nuzzled her neck, breathing in her
scent, memorizing it.

“What’s your
name,” he whispered urgently against her ear.

Even if she
hadn’t been too far gone to respond, too drugged with sated desire and whatever
chemical they’d pumped into her, she didn’t get the chance to answer.  As
if they’d been watching and waiting, his chains suddenly jerked upward, nearly
yanking his arms from the socket as he was hauled off his feet to dangle
impotently in the air again.  The door slammed open.

J
esse
roared in fury, struggling mindlessly to free himself from the manacles.

“Tranquilize
him,” the heartless bitch ordered behind him, and a whoosh of compressed air
sounded as a tranquilizer dart left its gun and imbedded in his back.

He went limp
nearly instantly, and the second dart wiped him out completely.

“Take her to the
lab,” Freda ordered one guard, gesturing toward Erin where she slumped against
the wall.

Erin put up no
fight as the guard strode forward, grabbed an arm, and led her outside.

“You,” Freda
said, looking at the two remaining guards, “Take him down and secure him to the
table.  Make certain the restraints are tight.  If he wakes up, tranquilize
him again.”

A curious mixture
of triumph, satisfaction, and anger filled her as she watched them lower the
beast to the floor and unfasten his restraints.  She’d seen the hungry,
predatory way he’d watched Erin and known he wouldn’t be able to resist a
chance at fucking her.

As pleased as she
was, on a scientific level, about being right, and finally obtaining the
specimen they’d wanted, as a woman it still irked the hell out of her that she
hadn’t been able to drive him over the edge herself.

Dismissing it
when she saw the guards had everything well in hand, Freda left to join Wagner
in the lab to collect their specimen.  After the show she had just
watched, she was confidant the beast had left quite a large deposit inside his
sweet little fuck.

* * * *

A voice nagged at
Jesse, pulling him out of the blackness into harsh, unforgiving light. 
His chest hurt as if it was wrapped in a vice.  Experimentally, he tried
to shift position, but he couldn’t move his arms or legs.

The faint click
of the door as the catch was depressed alerted him to someone’s arrival. 
He feigned unconsciousness.

She
chuckled.  There was nothing pleasant about the sound and he knew
immediately that it was the cold bitch that had taken such delight in torturing
him since he’d been taken.  “I know you’re faking,” she said in a singsong
voice.  He felt her breath against his ear as she leaned closer.  “We
have cameras.”

He lunged at her
with his face, snapping his canines.  She leapt back, evading his attempt
to slam his head into hers and knock her insensible.  Anger, he saw,
glittered in her eyes when he opened his to look at her.  It vanished in
the face of the rage he made no attempt to hide.

“Now I’m
disappointed.  After what I witnessed a few minutes ago, I was certain
we’d made a break through with you.”

His eyes
narrowed.

She shrugged,
feigning unconcern and moved to a table beyond his vision.  He heard the
clink of metal against glass and stiffened, knowing even before she appeared
beside him again that she’d gone to get something to inject in him.  He
snarled at her when he saw his suspicions confirmed by the syringe in her hand,
struggling to summon his beast even as she stabbed the needle into his arm and
depressed the plunger.

His beast rose
inside of him, but remained there.

He’d suspected
the restraints manacling him to the table must be silver coated as the ones in
his cell were, but he had hoped that they had gotten sloppy.

The furious
pounding of his heart sent the drug she’d injected into him surging through his
body.  A wave of heat traveled with it.

It wasn’t the
burn of caustic chemicals like poison spreading through his bloodstream. 
It was synthetic arousal.  Without prompting or any outward stimuli, he
felt his body awakening, felt desire began to churn inside of him.

It flickered
through his mind that it must be the same thing they’d given
her
and, as
he felt his body reeling out of control, that she could not have controlled the
urges the drug evoked even half as well as he could.  He doubted if she
had even had much awareness of what she was doing.

The thoughts
disturbed him, made it more difficult to fight the drug in his system.  He
set them aside with an effort, focusing on his current dilemma.

“You seemed … particularly
taken with Erin,” she murmured thoughtfully, dragging a hand down the middle of
his chest, her fingertips playing with stomach muscles.

Erin.  Her
name was Erin.  The name summoned her image in his mind, called up the
memory of his possession of her, and his desperate struggle to retain control
slipped drastically, threatened to completely evade his hold.

“It would be a
shame, I’m thinking, if anything happened to her.”

The threat to
Erin instantly altered the direction of his passions, summoning his
beast.  Caged by the silver manacles, it erupted inside of him.  Rage
supplanted desire.  He bucked uselessly against his restraints with no
thought in mind but rending his tormentor to shreds.

Fear flickered in
her eyes, and something else he couldn’t quite interpret, but a satisfied smile
curled her lips, as well, and his rage turned inward as he realized he had
allowed his beast to rule him, to deprive him of the only weapon he had to
protect Erin--his wits.  “What makes you think I have any interest in what
happens to any of you mortals?” he growled.

She curled her
fingers around his balls, squeezing them painfully.  It knocked the breath
out of him as surely as if she’d punched him in the solar plexus.  He
jerked reflexively, expelling a grunt of pain.  “I think the thing I like
best about working with you creatures is that I can do pretty much anything I
want to.  As long as it doesn’t leave a mark, no one gives a shit,” she
said thoughtfully, her voice almost a purr of pleasure.

“Aren’t you worried
about what your colleagues will think when they see you fondling an animal?”

“But they won’t,”
she murmured, chuckling.  “I turned off the cameras.”

She climbed up on
the table, straddling him.  Her skirt rode up her legs as she settled her
bare ass on his upper thighs.  He angled his head to look down at
her.  He could see the nest of dark hair between her thighs.  He
hadn’t just imagined her ass was bare.  She’d removed her panties.

Conflicting
sensations instantly drew him in two diametrically opposing directions.
 He hated the cold blooded bitch with a passion that made him feel ill
with the desire to take her head off her shoulders.  His body, however,
recognized only the feel of woman’s flesh and the scent of desire, and the drug
she’d injected him with magnified his natural instincts almost beyond control.

He gritted his
teeth, focusing his attention on the blinding light in the ceiling as she began
to fondle him with diabolical finesse, massaging his scrotum and his cock until
blood engorged his member, bringing him painfully erect.  He battled the
urge inwardly, forcing himself to recall everything she had done to him since
he had been taken, every smirk that had made him long to strangle the life out
of her.  Slowly, the urge subsided.  The painful tightness in his
balls and the throbbing pulse of blood in his cock eased.

She hissed
angrily as his cock softened in her hands.  “I guess I misjudged
you.  You really don’t care what I do to that little cunt, do you?”

Jesse
stiffened.  He tried to tell himself she wouldn’t dare harm Erin, but he
had every reason to believe the cold hearted bitch would do just about
anything--and no reason to doubt her threats.  He gave up his battle with
the drug, allowing it to overwhelm him.

As his cock stood
erect once more, she smiled in satisfaction.

He closed his
eyes to shut out her face and that smile that brought out his killer
instincts.  He blocked the thoughts that rambled through the drugged haze
of his mind of what he would do to her if he ever managed to get his hands on
her.

Instead, he
summoned images of Erin to mind, indulged his fantasy that it was her flesh,
her wetness he felt his cock sliding through, clenching around his cock. 
Pleasure invaded his senses, caught him up in a race toward release.  Her
throaty moans of excitement became Erin’s voice in his ears and mind, driving
him nearer and nearer his release.

He felt her body
convulse with release, the spasms of her inner muscles working along his cock
in a milking motion that lifted him to the brink of madness, to the edge of
release.  He sucked in a harsh breath, held it, bracing himself for the
explosion as his cock jerked.

She was huffing
with effort as she rode him faster and harder, trying to push him over the
edge.  A husky chuckle of satisfaction escaped her as she felt his cock
jerk inside of her.  “That’s a good little beast,” she murmured. “Give it
to me.”

The taunting note
in her voice penetrated his absorption in attaining release.

“Erin will be
relieved to know she won’t have to milk you herself next time.  As devoted
as she is to the project, she’s repulsed at having to actually fuck one of you
creatures to gather specimens.”

He lost his
erection so abruptly his head swam sickeningly from the sudden shift in blood
flow.

The cold bitch humped
him several more times before it dawned on her that she was trying to ride a
wet noodle.  She slipped back on his thighs, staring down at his flaccid
member in stunned disbelief for several moments before she uttered a growl of
rage and slid off him.

After glaring at
him furiously for a handful of seconds, she stalked beyond his range of
vision.  He heard the hiss as the dart was released a split second before
he felt the prick of the injection.  For once relief hit him as the
tranquilizer kicked in and oblivion consumed him.

* * * *

Without even
opening his eyes, Jesse knew from the pain he woke to that he had been manacled
to the pulley again, chained as he had been so long that he had lost all track
of time.

It was a pain of
a different kind that consumed him, though, that stirred his beast to life.

Rage sent him
into a frenzy of desperate lunges against his chains, so much fury that he felt
for many moments that he could break them, silver or not.  He subsided
after a while, not because his wrists were raw and bleeding, not because the
pain scouring his insides was any less, but because he no longer had the energy
to struggle.

She was just like
the others.  He’d allowed himself to be conned by the empathy he had
believed he had seen in her eyes, by her gentleness.  He had allowed his
desire for her to weaken his mind and leave him wide open to seduction.

He’d been right
about her being drugged.  He’d just been wrong about the reason for it.

It infuriated him
that he had been willing to do anything to protect her from them, endure the
touch of that female, give them the seed they had been trying so hard to steal
from him, when all the while she was working with them, as much a part of his
torment as the cold hearted bitch he hated so badly.

They would do
well to keep her away from him.  If they sent her again he would wrap his
chains around her throat and choke the life out her, he promised himself.

In spite of the
promise, when the door opened some time later, he felt his body quicken with
desire and gladness, hopeful as ever that it was her--Erin.  A guard
stepped through the opening.  Settling a tray on the spot they’d marked on
the floor that was close enough he could reach it when the chains slackened,
but not close enough for him to launch an attack otherwise, the guard
retreated.

As soon as the
door closed and the lock clicked, he heard the whir above him and the chains
went slack.  He made no attempt to reach the food.  Sometimes he was
allowed to.  At others he was only taunted with it and the chains would
jerk taut as he reached for the tray.

He knew that was
the cold hearted bitch.  She seemed to take delight in tormenting him
endlessly, maliciously.

He hadn’t known
why he was taken at first.  They hadn’t tried to explain, hadn’t made any
attempt to reason with him.  They had treated him like an animal from the
beginning, a dangerous animal, with no reasoning skills.  It had become
abundantly clear very quickly, however, that it was his seed they were after,
and it hadn’t taken much of a leap to figure out that whatever they had in mind
to do with it, it wasn’t something he was going to like.

They could not
have reasoned with him.  The fact that they’d captured him alone was
enough to preclude any interest he might have had in cooperating with them. 
The military aspect of the place had only sealed his opposition.

Regardless, he
had endured more than mere detached, clinical study.  That would have been
uncomfortable enough, probably painful, but his treatment had gone well beyond
that--and there had been no doubt in his mind that the woman he knew only as
the cold bitch was behind it.  There was malice in her eyes whenever he
saw her.  She was aroused when she was around him, and more aroused when
she had mind fucked him, or inflicted pain.  The more he resisted her
attempts to milk him of his seed, the more he endured in repercussions.

After a time, it
seeped into his mind that he needed the food to maintain his strength. 
He’d been on a forced fast so long that he’d passed beyond hunger into nausea at
the thought of eating, and he was reluctant to give the cold bitch the
satisfaction of snatching it out of his reach, but he needed it.  If there
was any chance at all that he could escape, he needed to keep his strength up.

Hesitantly, he
moved as close to the tray as he could, tense, expecting the chains to jerk
taut at any moment.  When they didn’t, he managed to catch the edge of the
tray with his toes and drag it closer.  He bent finally to retrieve it,
only to discover that the chains were just taut enough that he could barely
brush the edges of the tray with his fingertips.