Under the Alpha's Protection

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Under the Alpha's Protection Page 3

by Doris O'Connor


  His strained voice had held that edge of command she'd heard him use with his team, and the tension coiling her insides had evaporated. That voice called to a part deep inside of her, and she simply allowed herself to let go, happy in the knowledge that Raoul would take care of everything. Here, in his arms, in his bed, she did not need to be strong, to show the world at large that she could do things on her own. He knew her inside out, had seen her at her worst, and he was still here, still her friend, the one man she could always rely on.

  And if the way his erection had dug into her ass the entire night was anything to go by he would soon be much more than simply her friend. If last night's attack had shown her anything, it was that life could change at the drop of a hat. She would seize the moment and seduce him. The only problem was, Nikita had no idea how to seduce any man, let alone a Dom like Raoul so clearly was.

  Her stomach rumbled, and Nikita drew a face at her rambling thoughts. The urgent demands of her bladder taken care of, she padded back into the bedroom in search of something to wear. Raoul's robe left at the bottom of her bed was out of the question. Blood stains marked the back, and her stomach roiled at the visible reminder. She didn't really want to intrude on his privacy by rummaging through his wardrobe, so the only other option was one of his worn shirts. Carelessly flung into a corner it held his scent, and Nikita lifted it to her nose and inhaled deeply.

  Instantly her heaving stomach settled, and a sense of well-being invaded her. His shirt smelled like home, and she shrugged it on without a moment's hesitation. He was so much taller than she that it hung to mid-thigh, and by the time she'd rolled the sleeves up and buttoned it up, she was adequately covered, as long as she didn't bend over.

  With one last grimace at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, she followed that enticing trail of coffee and frying bacon.

  ****

  "Are you sure he's gone?"

  "Absolutely, boss. There is no trace of our intruder. It's as though nothing ever happened. Of course the rain we had early this morning hasn't helped. Whatever tracks there were left over disappeared down the fucking drain."

  Raoul frowned at his beta and bit back a curse. Darius shrugged his shoulders and took another swig of the just brewed coffee.

  "I don't understand it either. They shouldn’t have been able to breach our territory lines. After the recent troubles our neighboring packs reported, we stepped up security patrols as you'd ordered. It's like these guys were ghosts or something."

  Raoul flipped the omelet he was making for Nikita, and nodded grimly.

  "Do you think the attacks elsewhere and this one are linked?"

  Darius paused, and his expression grew as murderous as Raoul felt on the inside.

  "If they are, then the devil has just come to pay us a visit, and your mate is fucked and not in a good way."

  Raoul's wolf growled his annoyance, and Darius bowed his head in submission to the Alpha.

  "Watch your language when you're talking about Nikita."

  "Sorry, boss, I mean no offence. We all like the kid, but she's your weak link. If this is the hybrid he'll come for her to force your hand. It would certainly explain how he managed to breach our defenses. Things like him are a fucking abomination, and there's nothing we can do, 'cause he carries the pack's genes. There is only one way to protect her, and that's a slim one at that. Mark her, and make her one of us."

  Raoul laughed and turned the hob off.

  "That's never going to happen. She'd run a fucking mile, and there is no way I’ll force this on her. No fucking way."

  His wolf's happy panting alerted him to the fact that they were not on their own anymore. Darius's wolf whistle of male appreciation made his blood boil, and he spun around ready to take the man's head off, verbally at least, when the sight of a deliciously rumpled looking Nikita took his breath away. All his blood shot south, and he groaned under his breath.

  Dressed in nothing but one of his old work shirts, the sun was behind her, rendering the fine fabric completely transparent, and every one of her luscious curves was there for him to see.

  Darius had the good sense to avert his eyes, but Raoul didn't miss the smirk on the other man's face.

  "Watch it, pup."

  "Sorry, boss, but she is fucking hot, and yours for the taking, if you ask me."

  "I didn't fucking ask you, did I? Now get the hell out of my flat, and let me know of any more developments."

  "Sure thing, boss."

  Darius's laughter echoed in his brain, as his beta smiled at Nikita.

  "Someone had a good night, I see." He ducked the punch Raoul aimed at his midriff and sauntered away chuckling. "Nice to meet you again, Nikita."

  She blinked twice and stepped out of his way.

  "I swear I'm going to kill that boy one day."

  That brought an uncertain smile on her pale features, and she shook her head.

  "And lose your best rugby player? I don't think so, Raoul. Besides, prison orange is not your color I reckon."

  He laughed, his worries lifting slightly. She was safe, and she was here. He would just concentrate on that for now, not the imminent threat to his leadership, or what that might mean to Nikita.

  "Please tell me you have a coffee cup with my name on it, and that omelet I can smell is ready to eat. I'm starving."

  "Sure thing, squirt. Take a seat and I’ll bring it right over." He handed her a mug of steaming coffee, and he smiled at the way she eagerly wrapped her hands around it, and inhaled the fragrant brew. Nikita was like a bear with a sore head without her caffeine hit first thing. Sure enough she mewled like a newborn kitten—a sound that made his cock so hard it hurt—closed her eyes and took several long swallows. Raoul shifted to relieve the discomfort in his groin, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from the subtle movement of her neck as she swallowed. It was all too easy to imagine her lips wrapped around his cock as he fucked her mouth and she swallowed down his cum.

  He turned abruptly to get his raging body under control, as she slid on one of the high bar stools at his breakfast bar. The action exposed far too much creamy white skin for his sanity, and her scent hit him square in the face. His wolf practically rolled over, salivating in his need for this woman, and he put his hands to good use cutting the omelet in half instead.

  Raoul joined her at the bar and slid a plate of food across to her, mindful not to touch her. He was sure his wolf would lose it completely if he did. Already it was far too close to the surface, and he kept his eyes downcast in case his animal showed. He didn't want to scare her away. Nikita needed to stay close to him, to keep her safe.

  The sound of her appreciative moans made his head shoot up. Eyes closed she licked her fork with such a look of bliss on her face, you'd have thought he'd served her some delicacy instead of a simple omelet. Raoul groaned under his breath, and her eyes fluttered open and connected with his. Neither one of them said anything for the space of several anxious heartbeats, and then she smiled. A shy, utterly adorable smile that pulled him in and under her spell. If he hadn't already been in love with her, right now would have been the moment he'd have tumbled headlong into oblivion.

  He had to clear his throat several times before he could get his voice to work, and her eyes widened a fraction. Her pupils dilated, and she put the fork back down on her now half empty plate with a far too loud clang.

  "You do wonders for a man's ego, you know," he finally said and inwardly rolled his eyes at the inane comment.

  A giggle escaped her, and the little minx did roll her eyes.

  "I hardly think your ego needs any more stroking."

  Raoul raised an eyebrow at that, and rocked back on the legs of his chair.

  "What is that supposed to mean, squirt?"

  "Well, you know." She dropped her gaze and pushed the leftover food around her plate, until he dropped the chair back down, and put his hand on her fingers, stilling the frantic movement. A surge of heat and electricity shot up his arm, and Nikita inhaled sharpl
y and tried to pull her hand away. When he wouldn't let her, she bit her lip, and his wolf snarled.

  "Don't do that. The only marks I want to see on your body are the ones I put there."

  Now, why the fuck had he said that? Instead of continuing to pull away, his little human smiled, and finally looked at him again.

  "Don’t say things like that unless you mean them. I'm not one of your Barbie doll girlfriends, you know. You've never shown the slightest bit of interest in me. So don't think that I'm an easy lay, just because I've fallen in your lap, so to speak."

  "When exactly did I give the impression that you would be an easy lay, squirt?" His annoyance at her assumption made his voice gruffer than he intended it to be, and she flinched.

  "You didn't. I'm sorry." Her answer was barely above a whisper and tugged at his heart strings.

  "Come here."

  He let go off her hand and opened his arms wide, in the age old offer of comfort, and like a frightened foal she complied. She burrowed into him as though her life depended on it, and he pulled her close and simply held her, his wolf for once content at having his mate in his arms.

  "What's this all about, squirt?"

  Chapter Four

  Surrounded by Raoul, his thundering heart beat under her ear, the world narrowed to just this moment in his arms, and her worries flew away. He stroked lazy circles over her back, careful to not to touch the areas marked by the claws, and she tensed.

  "Will I have scars?"

  He stilled his movement, and his deep sigh reverberated through her. Wordlessly he picked her up and carried her back into the bedroom, and she blinked when he deposited her in front of the full length mirror he had set up in one corner. From this angle she had a clear view of the bed behind them, and heat rose in her cheeks when it dawned on her why he had that mirror there. He wasn't a vain man, so she'd wondered why it was there. He cupped her chin and raised her head up until her gaze connected with his in the mirror.

  "What do you see when you look into the mirror, girl?"

  The way he said girl sent moisture seeping past her pussy lips, and his nostrils flared, as though he could smell how wet she was.

  His fingers dug into her skin with just enough force to focus her on him.

  "Well, answer me. I want to know why you have such a goddamn low opinion of yourself. What. Do. You. See?"

  "I-I…" Nikita flinched when his grip grew painful, and he slid his hand down to her throat, and squeezed. She pulled back in a desperate attempt to draw air into her lungs, panic clouding her brain for that terrifying second until she realized that she could indeed breathe, as long as she stayed pinned to him.

  He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head waiting for her answer, and he released his hold on her slightly when she swallowed hard.

  "I see me. Just little old me. I'm nothing special."

  Raoul waited and simply continued to look at her, holding her captive with his eyes alone, until every nerve ending tingled, and she squeezed her thighs together to relieve the insistent throbbing in her clit.

  "Don't even think about it, girl. Trust me, my fingers are itching to put you over my knee, and to spank that perfect ass until it's red raw."

  Heaven help her, those words should not turn her on so much that her juices were now trickling down her inner thigh. He was bound to notice, and she screwed her eyes shut so she wouldn’t have to witness it in the mirror. Instantly he moved. One hand wrapped in her hair he pulled her head up with an almost feral growl, and kicked her legs apart with his foot.

  "I said, look at yourself in the mirror and tell me what you see."

  Her scalp stung, and the sharp pain brought tears to her eyes.

  "Please, Raoul…"

  The slap to her outer thigh hurt, and she flinched. He rubbed the sting away and ran his stubble roughened jaw across the sensitive skin of her neck. Her knees would have buckled, had he not wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her up, and pushed his knee between her legs to support her.

  "Trust me, squirt, you don't want to get me angry. I asked you something. I expect an answer." His voice was firm, but his features had gentled, and she lost herself in the tender feelings she saw in his eyes. He really had the most beautiful eyes. As though he read her thoughts, he smiled and dropped a kiss on the spot on her neck where her heart seemed intent to be beating itself out of her body.

  "Shall I tell you what I see?" he asked.

  Nikita swallowed nervously and nodded.

  "Use your words, baby."

  She blinked at the unexpected endearment, and he focused her attention back on the mirror with a gentle tug to her hair.

  "Ye-es, please, Sir." She bit her lip, when he grew tense at the salutation offered to him. Had she gotten this wrong, too? Did he not want the title? According to her books that's what a Dom ought to be called. It was a sign of respect, and she had no doubt in her mind that right now Raoul was in full Dom mode.

  She breathed a sigh of relief when he relaxed slightly.

  "Do not call me that, unless you mean it and you're ready for the consequences, squirt." His deep baritone was the lowest she had ever heard it, and gooseflesh broke out over her body.

  "And if I do mean it?"

  ****

  Raoul's wolf howled his joy, and he shut his eyes, and took a deep breath to help him rein in his beast. Nonetheless he knew his beast was showing in his eyes when he looked at her. Nikita's breath hitched, and she blinked rapidly as though to clear her vision, but he didn’t sense any fear from her. Just full blown feminine arousal and need that matched his own.

  Fuck it.

  One kiss. There could be no harm in just one kiss. Before he could change his mind, he claimed her mouth, and he knew instantly that one kiss would never be enough. He ran his tongue along the seam of her mouth, coaxing her to open for him, and when she did so on a little whimper of need he tasted heaven. She tasted of strawberries and chocolate and the coffee she'd drunk earlier, and that indefinable something that was all Nikita. Without breaking the kiss he turned her around in his arms and lifted her up against the mirror. She gasped into his mouth and then wrapped her legs around his waist. All that hot wetness next to his over-eager cock sent his wolf over the edge, and she winced when his claws ran out and pricked her skin.

  He deepened the kiss further, grinding his erection into her sodden pussy, until she flexed against him of her own accord. He ought to stop her, but this felt way too good, and he could tell by her increased scent and her choppy breaths how close she was to her release. Faster and faster he thrust against her, the movement sweet agony on his dick, and he fucked her mouth with his tongue in tandem to the thrusts of his hips.

  Her breaths grew choppier still, and he wrenched his lips off hers to be able to see her fall apart. When she did, it almost sent him over the edge, too. Head thrown back, her mouth open in a silent “O” her whole body tensed and flushed. Beads of perspiration dotted her adorable little nose, and then she came apart with the cutest little mewls of completion.

  He continued thrusting against her until he'd rung every last tremor from her, and her eyes fluttered open again.

  Her passion clouded gaze sought his, and he released his hold on her slowly. The descent down his body was pure torture, and she gasped when he turned her around again, and took a step back so she could see herself in the mirror again.

  "I see a beautiful woman with curves I want to fuck every inch of. A woman whose scent drives me crazy. I love how wet you are for me, how you ride my crotch in your pursuit of passion. The little sounds you make as you fall apart, the way my jeans are soaked through with your need for me. I love every inch of your curves, and I don’t give a flying fuck if your back will carry scars. I'll lick every inch of them and then eat out your pussy until you scream my name, until you know I own you, body, soul, and mind."

  He paused to see what effect his words were having on her, mindful of the fact that he was half shifted. Never in his life had he had such trouble
keeping his wolf under control. His eyes had bled to yellow, his claws had run out, and his fangs pricked the side of his lips, yet she hadn't seemed to notice. Or if she had, it didn't send her cowering away from him. Quite the opposite, in fact. She pushed her ass into his groin, and she brought her arms up, and grabbed hold of his hair, pulling his head down to her level. The tentative kiss she dropped on his jaw had him clench every muscle in his body with the effort it took not to howl in joy.

  "Do you really mean it? You want me?"

  ****

  Instead of answering her, the world tilted and all the air left her lungs in a big whoosh, when Raoul threw her over his shoulder. In a few long legged strides he'd crossed the distance to his bed, and before she could blink she was lying face down over his lap with his shirt pulled up and falling over her head. Thus robbed off her vision she could only feel, and a shiver of anticipation went through her, when he massaged the globes of her ass with his hands. He grabbed full handfuls and squeezed. By rights she should have been mortified that he could do that so easily, but his appreciative murmurs, and the way he ran his fingers through her soaking wet slit robbed her off any ability to think. All she could do was feel.

  "I want you to count these spanks, squirt. I'll only use my hands this time." He chuckled at the shiver that went through her body. "Ah, I see, my little naughty girl likes that idea. You'll take as many of these as you can. If it gets too much, your safe word is red. Are we clear?"

  "Yes."

  He yanked her hair, and she flinched.

  "Yes, Sir," she hastily added.

  "Good girl, now count."

  The first slap took her breath away with the sheer intensity behind it. This wasn't a playful swat on the backside. No, this was a no holds barred smack that echoed around the room and left her ass on fire.

  "One." She panted the word, and another smack followed on the other cheek this time.

  "Two."

  Slap.

  "Three."

  Slap.

  "Four."

  Tears streamed down her face, as the blows continued to fall. Raoul hit a different spot every time until her butt and upper thighs were a hot stinging mess of pain that morphed into arousal so intense Nikita could barely stand it. Higher and higher she climbed until with one last exhale she counted twenty-five, and he stopped.

 

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