He tapped her bottom lip with his thick head already slick with pre-cum, and she licked that moisture away with a husky murmur that had his balls contract. Raoul wrapped his hands in her hair and thrust into the soft haven of her mouth. She hollowed out her cheeks, and sucked hard, and he saw stars.
"Fuck, baby, yeah … just like that. Suck me off. Milk me. Take my cock. That's my girl."
Already he could feel the pressure build at the base of his spine, and he fucked her mouth harder until every inward stroke hit the back of her throat. Nikita gagged once, and he wrapped one hand round the bottom of his shaft to stop himself from pushing in too deep, even though he wanted nothing more than for her to deep-throat him. The feel of her tongue swallowing around his cock, the needy little moans, and the way her fingernails dug into his thighs now, all served to send him flying.
"I'm coming, baby … ready?"
The warning was almost too late, and Nikita swallowed greedily as jet after jet of his cum shot out of his dick in waves of pure bliss. He released his cock, and lodged himself all the way in her throat, cutting off her air supply, as he reached for the remote, and her nails dug in further, as her throat contracted around him.
He pulled back to let her breathe at the same time as he flicked the remote on full, and Nikita froze. Tears streamed down her face, and he pulled his cock out her mouth mindful of the fact that she might clench her jaws together in her need to come.
"Noooo…" Her high pitched wail was music to his ears, and he buried his hands in her hair again, and whispered straight into her ear.
"Now, baby, come for me."
Nikita flew on his command, and he held her as her body shook in the grip of a seemingly never ending orgasm that had her scream his name until she passed out in his arms.
****
Nikita opened her eyes to the steamy surrounding of the bathroom, and her arms and legs jerked. Instantly Raoul gathered her close, and the rising panic receded. She was safely installed in the warmth of his bath, propped up between Raoul's legs, with her back resting against his chest. He used a large sponge to wash her arms, and her breathing hitched when he ran that sponge over her oversensitive nipples.
"Relax, baby, and let your body soak. It will help ease your sore muscles." She sank into the deep tender tones of his voice and let him pamper her. Her eyes drifted shut again of their own accord, and she was only vaguely aware of the sensation of being lifted, and wrapped into a towel.
When she next became aware she was lying on Raoul's bed, with his hands massaging her skin. He covered every inch of her body with slow, firm moves, designed to soothe rather than arouse, and Nikita drifted off again. Every time she stirred, Raoul was there, lulling her back to sleep, and when she finally woke up properly the sun was setting, and she was on her own in the huge bed.
"Shit, shit, shit."
She was gonna be late for work.
Nikita threw the cover off and noted briefly that he'd changed them. There was no handy shirt for her to throw on this time, so she dashed to the en-suite, hastily used the toilet, and splashed water on her face to dispel the last remnants of sleep, and she then used one of the fluffy towels to wrap herself into.
The post it note on the mirror made her smile, once she'd managed to squint at it long enough to decipher it.
The toothbrush is new and just for you. Use it, squirt, and then come and find me. And stop panicking. I phoned your work and told them you’re not well, so you’re off the hook.
Damn the blasted man! So much for him not interfering in her life outside of the bedroom. She had slept with him just once, technically speaking. She didn't think oral counted as full blown sex, but then what did she know? Not a lot, clearly.
Her limbs still felt heavy, and there was a faint ache between her legs that made walking difficult, and her mind was filled with images of the deliciously wicked things he'd done to her. Nikita's stomach flip-flopped wildly at the mere thought of what else he might introduce her to. Her pussy clenched, and her breasts ached, imagining his large hands on her, his hypnotic voice whispering dirty things to her, and she grabbed the sink for support, as her wayward hormones betrayed her once more.
You're annoyed with him, remember, girl. You do not want to fuck him.
She shook her head and forced herself to use the toothbrush, before she went in search of him. She found him looking out onto the sculpted gardens surrounding the block of flats he lived in. The last rays of the sun bathed his form in an ethereal glow. It enhanced every contour of those broad shoulders, and her finger itched to trace the intricate tattoo gracing his biceps. Deliciously hairy in all the right places with his low slung jeans the only item of clothing hindering her impromptu ogling of the man candy session, Nikita could feel herself growing wet for him, and her anger disappeared.
She took several steps toward him, and when he didn't stop her, she wrapped her arms around his waist, and pressed her body into his hot back. She had never noticed how incredibly warm he was before. It was almost as though he was running a fever, but he was altogether too virile and alive to be sick. In fact, she couldn't recall him ever having had a cold even.
She used to tease him about that, saying he must be some sort of a mutant.
"Hey, squirt." His deep voice, and the way he linked his hands with hers pulled her out of her musings. "I was beginning to think you would sleep through ‘til morning."
He pulled her around until she was stood in front of him, and his pupils dilated when the towel slipped. She tried to make a dash for it, but he would not let go of her hands, so the blasted piece of material slid off her in slow motion, and pooled around her bare feet.
"You're so beautiful, my sweet girl." He dipped his head and brushed his lips across hers in such a tender way that she couldn’t help but lean into him and open her mouth to his gently probing tongue.
Unlike earlier this was a sweet and tender kiss, a meeting of souls as their tongues parried and thrust against each other. Their breaths mingled, and their hearts’ beats synchronized. Time stood still as Raoul made love to her mouth, and she loved him right back.
When he finally pulled back they were both breathing heavily, and he rested his forehead against hers.
"Whatever will I do with you, my sweet?"
Chapter Six
The doorbell rang right on time, and Nikita rolled her eyes in amusement. Despite Raoul being out of town on business, her escort arrived without fail.
Since that fateful night of her attack her life had changed beyond recognition. Raoul had basically kept her hostage in his flat for three passionate days and nights of sex, interspersed with long talks, where the two of them had not only connected on every level possible, but they had also negotiated every one of her limits, and had set out the terms of their D/s relationship.
Nikita checked her reflection one last time in the mirror, and smiled at the wide eyed woman staring back at her.
"Who'd have thunk it, eh, girl?"
She winked at herself, and then burst into laughter for no other reason than that she was deliriously happy with him. At first she had chafed at the escorts appointed by Raoul. He'd done his utmost to convince her not to return to her shift at the café, but true to his word, he had not pressed the issue.
He had insisted on ensuring that she never walked on her own, though, especially on her late night shifts. Deep down inside that scared place she'd been in ever since that fateful night, she had been beyond grateful at his continued protection. On the rare occasion she wasn't sleeping in his arms, memories of that night turned into terrifying nightmares. Nightmares that had increased in intensity and gory detail the closer they'd come to the next full moon, which was a preposterous notion. In her dreams, however, those wolves had changed into men, and the one whose claws had sliced through her back, had sprouted fangs and fur like some sort of mutant hybrid.
Raoul's absence the last few days had not helped her mental state. She missed him terribly despite their daily phone calls and the incredibly n
aughty texts he'd sent her. It still amazed her how much she followed his instructions, explicit or otherwise, and how good she felt when he praised her. A psychologist would probably have a field day with that one, but Raoul had just wrapped her up in a hug, kissed her, and explained it thus.
"Baby, you're submissive. It's just the way it works. It's not something you can help, and I'm honored that you have chosen me to give your submission to. I vow that I will never abuse the trust you've placed in me, and nothing makes me happier as your Dom to witness the peace your submission brings you. It brings me peace, too, this connection we share."
He'd grown thoughtful and slightly tense as though there was more he'd wanted to say. Nikita found him doing that often, and a small part of her did wonder what he was hiding from her, and then he'd smile and she'd push that thought away.
She trusted him implicitly, and if she'd learned one thing, then it was that he would share whatever was bothering him in his own time.
There was certainly nothing else he held back from her. Free from her daily Uni life due to the summer break, she'd tagged along to his Rugby training sessions, and had made firm friends of the wives and girlfriends of his team or “pack” as they referred to themselves.
It was fitting she supposed, as their mascot was a wolf cub. There had to be some sort of irony to the fact that she seemed to be surrounded by wolves everywhere nowadays.
The doorbell rang again, rather more insistently this time, and Nikita grabbed her house keys with a shouted, "Okay. Keep your hair on, Darius. I'm coming."
A quick look through her spy-hole confirmed that it was indeed Darius. He was in the process of reaching for her doorbell again, when she yanked the door open with a smile.
"Seriously, what got into you today? You've got a face like a wet weekend."
He flinched and grabbed her arm with enough force to hurt, and her eyes widened when he bent down and growled in her ear.
"Forgive me, Nikita. They've got Lou."
Before she could ask him what his pregnant girlfriend had to do with anything, something heavy hit the back of her head, and the world went black.
****
Nikita blinked in the murky, damp, dark cellar she came to in. The stench of wet dog invaded her senses, overlaid with the nauseating smell of blood, and sweat. Something trickled into her left eye, obscuring her vision further, and when she went to swipe it away, chains tightened, their clanging too loud in the still air.
Adrenaline shot through her system when she realized she was restrained. Arms and leg shackles cut into her tender flesh. The shackles were connected to heavy duty chains suspended from the walls. She shook her head to try to clear her vision and immediately wished she hadn't, as the dull ache in the back of her head erupted into intense stabs of pain radiating down her neck into her spine, and all over her body.
Of course, whoever had kidnapped her, had hit her over the head with something heavy. Her stomach heaved when she realized what the dark liquid was that trickled down the side of her face and into the cleavage of her work uniform. It was blood, her blood, and it explained why she felt so weak and disoriented. Something shifted next to her in the obscure darkness, and a puff of hot air hit her bare thigh. She flinched and tried to get away, but the chains held her fast. Whoever those slow and intermittent breaths belonged to, was also restrained, as there was more rattling of chains, and then a half human, half animal groan, that sent ice through her veins.
"Who's there? Anyone?"
Approaching footsteps had her wishing she'd kept her mouth shut, as a door swung open with an ominous creak, and Nikita blinked in the bright shaft of light that entered the cellar.
"Tell Draco Raoul's bitch is awake."
Her heart stopped at the mention of Raoul, and then turned into a jackhammer. Harsh, fluorescent overhead lights came on with a ping, obliterating the darkness and blinding her in the process. All she could see was the broad shouldered shadow of a hulk of a man towering over as he approached. Rough fingers dug into her cheeks and turned her head this way and that, while his cold hearted, yellow eyed stare turned the blood in her veins to ice. The stench of this man, thing, whatever the fuck he was, hit her square in the gut, and she heaved.
He released her and slapped her face with enough force to spin her head around. Stars exploded behind her closed eyelids, and a renewed intense wave of pain shot through her nerve endings. From the top of her head right through to her toenails, she hurt, and she desperately tried to get her breathing under control in the way Raoul had shown her.
"In, out, in through your nose, and blow it out through your mouth, baby. Puff that pain away, and let the pleasure follow."
Tears filled her eyes, remembering that scene, the first time he'd pushed her too far out of her comfort zone. The most intense pleasure had indeed followed that erotic pain he'd inflicted, but here right now, only misery followed.
God, Raoul, I need you.
Her heartfelt plea went unanswered, of course. Where was Raoul, and what had all this to do with him? She wasn't going to give the man smirking down on her now the satisfaction of letting him know how scared she was, and how much he hurt her, so she straightened her spine as best she could, and glared at him.
"Who the fuck are you? I demand that you let me go immediately."
Her captor just laughed and turned his back on her. She froze when she spotted the large syringe in his hand, but it seemed that wasn't for her. No, it was for the wolf, lying chained on the ground next to her.
A wolf?
Nikita bit back the scream bubbling on the back of her throat at this discovery. That explained the wet dog smell at least. The hulking beefcake of a man holding the syringe pulled the wolf's head up by the scruff of his neck, and Nikita did screech when she looked into Darius's pain-clouded eyes.
Set on the body of a wolf it was Darius's bloodstained face she saw. He offered her a weak smile, and their captor just laughed.
"Cutting your next dose fine, aren't we, wolf boy? We can't have you shifting now and telling all our secrets to your Alpha's bitch."
Darius flinched when the other man pushed the syringe into his neck, and Nikita watched in horror as the wolf's body contorted. Darius growled, and in front of her eyes, his face contorted from barely human into the fur covered snout of a wolf. His eyes were the last thing to change, and Nikita threw up.
The kick to her ribs hurt like hell.
"Fuck it, bitch, you chucked up all over my shoes. Damn human bitches, can't take the fucking heat."
Through the pain and the misery another voice registered. The cruel, perfect diction tones of that educated voice was a throw-back to the night she'd been attacked.
"Stop damaging the merchandise, Otto. Raoul won't have anything worth risking his life for at this rate, though what he sees in that fat little lump of human is beyond me right now."
Perfectly polished loafers appeared in her view, and a cold hand grabbed her chin and forced her head up.
She winced at the intense pain that followed, and the man pursed his lips. With an audible click his fangs ran out like in some ancient gothic B-movie, and he ran his fingers through the trail of blood seeping along her neck, lifted them up to his mouth, and licked the blood off.
Her stomach roiled again, but she had nothing left to give. White encroached on the edges of her vision, and the pain reduced to a dull ache. Nikita heard his voice from far, far away.
"Dammit, she's losing too much blood. Her heart is going to fail at this rate. She must have some internal injuries. Stupid incompetent wolves."
There was a whoosh of air, and an anguished howl before something heavy hit the cellar wall. Nikita's lips were prized open, and warm thick liquid invaded her mouth and made her gag. Ice cold pressure on her throat forced her to swallow until she slipped into blessed darkness.
****
Something was wrong. Raoul could feel it in his bones. The unease he'd felt ever since Nikita hadn't answered his phone call returned t
enfold. His wolf itched to be free, to run to his mate, and to reassure himself that she was okay. Sharp pain sliced through his heart, followed by ice, and every hair on his body stood on end. Raoul slammed on the brakes and abandoned his car at the roadside. The traffic report was for heavy congestion heading into London, and he would be faster as his wolf. He shed his clothes the minute he hit the relative shelter of the copse of trees, and shifted. The cool earth under his paws grounded him even as the worried voices of his pack filtered through loud and clear. Darius's intended came through the loudest. In the throes of labor she cried out for her mate, and received no answer.
Raoul howled his distress into the humid summer air and gave his wolf full reign. There was only one reason why Darius would not be by his mate's side at a time like this, and that meant Nikita was without protection.
Faster and faster he ran, the surroundings a blur of speed. Raoul was all too aware of the astonished humans he ran past. Tonight's news reports would be full of the huge wolf seen sprinting through the streets of London unrestrained. Mass hysteria might well follow placing all the packs sharing the space of the metropolis in danger, but right now his only focus was on Nikita.
By the time he finally reached her block of flats, strange scents were everywhere.
"Boss, I'm sorry, they got her."
"We tried to track them, but we lost the trail."
"Boss, we can't reach Darius."
"Boss… Boss…"
Raoul shifted with a feral growl shutting his mind off to the agitated voices of his pack, and he took the stairs three at a time. Fortunately, none of her neighbors were there to witness him running about naked. Nikita would never forgive him for embarrassing her like that, and besides most of her neighbors were elderly and would probably have a heart attack.
The leftover scent of her fear hit him straight in the face the minute he reached her floor. Her front door was ajar, and there was no sign of a struggle, save for her broken glasses on the floor, but the scent of the intruders overlaid everything else.
Under the Alpha's Protection Page 5