Going Wild: Wolves on the Prowl: The Complete Collection

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Going Wild: Wolves on the Prowl: The Complete Collection Page 10

by Michele Bardsley


  “Roni.” Her name was gentle admonishment. “You are still learning the rules, and I know your previous experiences were not satisfactory. I swear, darling, that you can trust me.”

  “I want to.”

  “Good.” He wiped away her tears. “Why are you upset?”

  She blurted, “Please don’t go.” Embarrassment swept through her. She sounded so desperate. She wasn’t weak, damn it.

  “I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep,” he said. “But it’s not time for you to know who I am.”

  “I won’t look, Master.”

  He turned her around, and then she heard the rustle of covers. “Get in.”

  She leaned down and felt her way across the bed. When she was settled on a pillow, he crawled in behind her and gathered her into his arms. His erection pressed between her buttocks, and she giggled.

  “You find my torment funny?” he asked.

  “A little.” She squirmed against him, and he groaned. “Let me service you, Master.”

  “No,” he said. “Tonight, I want to hold you.”

  Roni snuggled into his embrace, and protected by his strong arms and stronger will, she fell asleep.

  * * *

  RONI OPENED HER locker and shoved her purse inside. She had a bad case of the butterflies. She’d awakened alone, feeling refreshed. Happy. She found a note in the kitchen. Her master left instructions to wear a dress to work, and to not put on pantyhose or underwear.

  Would he show up? Take her here?

  Excitement buzzed up her spine. She shut her locker, smiling.

  “Don’t turn around, Roni.”

  Her eyes widened. How had he gotten into the room so quietly? She didn’t move a muscle. Her palm rested on the gray metal door, her knees feeling soft as pudding. She heard the snick of the deadbolt and knew her master had locked them into the small back room. Employee lockers, vending machines, and a card table with foldout chairs occupied the space.

  She didn’t hear him walk across the room, but suddenly, she felt him behind her. He said nothing as he grasped the edge of her dress and pulled it above her hips.

  “You disobeyed me.” He plucked at the black thong.

  Her heart thudded and moisture leaked from her pussy. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

  “Take off the underwear.”

  She wiggled off the thong, and he took the panties from her. She stared at the locker, wet and wanting. She heard him breathe in, and then he said, “You smell so good. I can’t wait to taste your pussy again.”

  “Thank you, Master.”

  “I’m going to spank you, Roni.”

  “I deserve punishment, Master.”

  He smacked her ass, hard.

  Sweet pain radiated into her cunt. She bit her lip to keep from gasping. She wondered how long they had before Ann or Johnny knocked on the door. Would they hear her being spanked?

  The idea of them listening made her wetter. The thrill of possibly getting caught was such a turn-on.

  He spanked her again, open-palmed and harder than before.

  She swallowed her moan. She wanted his mouth on her nipples and his cock inside her. She wanted the pain and the pleasure. She wanted someone who understood her darkness, and could keep her in balance with her own nature.

  He swatted her a third time.

  She was panting now, and trying really hard not to squirm. Her nipples were hard, and her breasts ached.

  “Do not pleasure yourself,” he said sternly. “I’ll see you after work.”

  He yanked down her dress and smoothed the material over her raw buttocks. She stared at the locker, her body on fire, and waited until she heard the door shut. Then she shakily sat down in the closest chair. Pain bloomed when her ass made contact on the flat surface.

  The sensation was a lovely reminder of her master. If he had not forbidden her, she would’ve put her hand under her dress and stroked herself to orgasm. She couldn’t wait until her shift was over and she could go home.

  To him.

  * * *

  CUSTOMERS WERE FEW and far between, so Roni occupied her time with straightening shelves, re-arranging end caps, and cleaning the area around her cash register. Her ass had stopped stinging, but she hadn’t quite rid herself of the ache of her own need -- the kind that could only be assuaged by her master.

  Mr. Chips ‘n Dip arrived at her counter with his bag of Ruffles and pint of dip. He did seem to keep his gaze on her. She’d never noticed before. Was it because he was Mystery Man? She smiled at him as she handed over his change.

  He mumbled his thanks and left.

  When her shift was over, she grabbed her purse and coat. She was in such a hurry that she nearly plowed down Johnny who tried to enter the break room while she was exiting it.

  “Oh! I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right.” He looked her over, squinting behind the glasses. “You look different. Kinda glowy.”

  His observation threw her. “Thank you. I feel kinda glowy.”

  “Cool.” He nodded then he said, “You want me to walk you home?”

  “It’s really nice of you to keep offering, Johnny, but I swear I’ll be all right.”

  “Okay, then. Good night, Roni.”

  “‘Night!” She hurried through the store, tossing Ann a quick wave as she left.

  She’d gotten to the edge of the first alleyway when Mr. Chips ‘n Dip stepped out of the darkness.

  “Been watching you,” he said.

  His hungry gaze swept over her, and her initial excitement turned to dread. Somehow, she knew that he was not Mystery Man.

  “It was nice to see you again,” she said, “but I need to get home.”

  “I’ll go with you.” He grabbed her elbow. “C’mon.”

  She yanked her arm out of his grip, and glanced back at the neon sign of the grocery store.

  “Don’t run,” rumbled the man. He pulled out a switchblade and waved it at her. Her heart dove to her toes. “Just wanna show you a good time, is all.”

  “Hey!” Johnny chugged down the sidewalk. “Stay away from her!”

  “Roni!” Mac hurried toward her from the other direction.

  Faced with two angry men coming at him from either side, the man put the knife away and sent her a look of disgust. “Ain’t no bitch worth this kind of trouble.” He pushed past her and crossed the street, going into the adult bookstore.

  Johnny got to her first. “You all right?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “You’re never late,” said Mac as he joined them. “I got worried.”

  “Thank you, both of you.” She was shaking, and feared her legs would give way.

  “C’mon,” said Johnny. “We’ll get you home.”

  Roni felt utterly protected all the way to the apartment complex. Neither man would leave until they checked out her place. She gave Mac his Snickers and a kiss on the cheek, and she hugged Johnny.

  After they left, she locked her door. Then she collapsed onto her couch and cried.

  Knock, knock, knock. Startled out of her weeping, she dashed away her tears, and went to look through the peephole.

  She opened the door and smiled. “What’s up?”

  “You dropped something.” Johnny pulled his hand out of his pocket and unfurled her black thong.

  Roni swallowed the knot in her throat. “You?”

  “Disappointed?”

  “Happy.” She opened the door, and he walked inside. By the time she’d followed him into the living room, he’d removed his glasses and his coat. His tight T-shirt showed off his lean form and some seriously great muscles. He brushed his fingers through his hair and suddenly, the shaggy look gave way to a more styled form. He looked older, too, and she realized he was probably her age.

  He was gorgeous.

  “I met you at The D-zone,” he said. “You took a couple of my sub classes. Then that asshole Graham got hold of you. I thought I’d lost you then.”

  The Dom had been ma
sked; she’d never seen him.

  “What a coincidence we ended up working at the same crappy grocery store.” Johnny had only been hired three months ago.

  He grinned. “Saw you in there one night and couldn’t resist getting to know you. So, I got a job there, too.” His gaze went serious. “You’ve been denying who you really are. Graham stole that light from you, and it pissed me off.”

  “I’m a project?”

  “Don’t.” His voice held the steel of the master’s voice, and she went liquid. “You’re mine.”

  “When I let you claim me.”

  “You’re wearing my collar,” he said. “My talisman. The moon and the sun. The light and the dark. Two sides of the whole.” He walked to her and cupped her face. “Before you decide that you truly belong to me, there’s something else you should know.”

  He stepped back. She watched his eyes go animalistic, and a brief flash of fur and fang. When he smiled, he revealed a wolf’s grin.

  Her heart started to pound frantically.

  “You’re afraid.”

  She nodded. “I don’t understand. You’re… different.”

  “I’m a werewolf.”

  Oh, God. What was she doing? She’d just invited a werewolf into her life. A shapeshifter whom she’d called Master. She’d already started giving him her trust; and he’d already started to fulfill her cravings. How was it that she was so calmly accepting that a creature of myth stood in her living room, offering to give her everything she needed? It was time for her to take a leap of faith.

  He drew her trembling form into his embrace then leaned down and he cupped one breast. Through her thin shirt and bra, he captured her nipple and twisted it.

  “Are you still frightened?”

  “No,” she said.

  He looked at her, and in his gaze, she saw such tender regard. And love. Her heart clutched. He loved her, and he would take care of her. She knew this to her very soul.

  “Are you mine, sweet Roni?”

  For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Her choice. To trust. To leap. To accept. “Yes,” she said. “Yes.”

  He took off her dress, and her bra. Then he undressed, slipping his belt out from his discarded jeans. He drew her arms behind her back and looped the leather around and around until her wrists tingled.

  She stood there and he said nothing. He grasped her breasts, and tweaked the nipples so hard pain exploded, and the sensations rushed down to her cunt. She bit her lip, trying not to moan.

  He pulled her nipples out and twisted. The delicious sparks of agony danced with the pleasure already gathering low in her belly. He leaned down and suckled each tortured nipple then blew across the crinkled peaks.

  “Lean over the arm of the couch, Roni.”

  She did as he commanded. He stood behind her. Her bound hands were going numb, her arms ached, and her nipples were still hard from his lovely torture.

  He slowly slid his cock inside her, filling her completely.

  “Don’t come until I tell you,” he warned.

  She couldn’t get her voice to work.

  He swatted her ass.

  “Yes, Master.”

  He fucked her. Fast. Hard. Her pussy abraded against the rough material of the couch. Orgasm threatened over and over, but she held off. Barely. He commanded her pleasure, him and no other.

  “Come on my cock, Roni.”

  Oh, yes. Yes. He plunged deeply into her, his fingers digging into her hips, and cried out his bliss. Roni let herself go, flying once again over the edge, into the chasm of shadow and light with her master.

  After a moment, he let her up, and unbound her wrists. He turned her around and gathered her into his arms. She very much enjoyed the feel of his strong arms wrapped around her.

  “You are my heart,” he said. “My world.”

  She kissed him, and then offered, “I love you, too.”

  About the Author

  Michele Bardsley is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of paranormal romance. When she’s not writing sexy tales of otherworldly love, she watches “Supernatural,” consumes chocolate, crochets hats, reads books, and spends time with her husband and their fur babies.

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  Copyright

  Copyright © 2015 by Michele Bardsley

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement from the author of this work.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatever to anyone bearing the same name or names. All incidents are pure invention.

 

 

 


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