Claimed by the Beast

by Natasha Knight

“Don’t you have to go?” she asked, the humor between them back again.

  “Good bye,” he said.

  “Wait, where’s your car?” she asked when he went to the back door instead of the front while stripping off his shirt.

  “I didn’t bring it.”

  She laughed. “Benefits of being a werewolf, I guess.”

  He chuckled and walked out the back door.

  Chapter Three

  Lance didn’t realize it was so late—or early—until two other professors from the university stepped off the elevator. He quickly moved to hide the sample he was working on but the pair continued down the hall, absorbed in their own conversation and not even glancing through the glass windows into the lab.

  He needed another half hour at most. He turned the lock on the door and took out his bottle of pills. Cursing his reliance on them in order to stop the shaking, he took another one, hopefully his last one, and returned to his experiment.

  Although the existence of shifters was still unknown by the world at large, what he and Maddox’s team had learned was invaluable information. Shifters could, in animal form, communicate with one another telepathically within the pack. Thoughts could be shared when desired. That alone was interesting but what truly captured Lance’s attention was their ability to heal in a fraction of the time it took a human being to heal. This was the piece that Lance was focused on. This was what he needed to work for him.

  He’d done some testing on lab rats but he was running both out of time and out of samples. He only had a few left in his home lab and he would have to test sparingly in order to have enough to make more of the serum. He had, however, finally prepared the first dose: one vial full of the serum he’d formulated that captured the chemical he was sure was the missing piece of the puzzle.

  This was where Eric Maddox had gone wrong. Maddox wanted to breed the creatures, to control them. To what end, Lance did not know. Well, he could imagine and he wasn’t stupid enough to think Maddox’s intentions were good. What he was doing though was different. If he could cure this disease in himself, banish Parkinson’s from his body altogether, well, wouldn’t he be a hero? Wouldn’t he be saving more lives than Maddox took during the explosion that flattened the complex and effectively ended his research?

  Yes, Maddox had used live specimens. He had only learned that at the end. Well, was that entirely true though? Hadn’t Lance known all along there would have had to have been living shifters involved? Ones from whom he could take what he needed? Ones on whom he could test his discoveries? Ones he could breed?

  Lance closed the book and held up the syringe, pressing the air from it.

  It didn’t matter. Nothing Maddox had done mattered. He wasn’t Eric Maddox. He would never have taken an intelligent creature and held them prisoner for the sake of research. True, he couldn’t confirm where the samples he’d received from Maddox had come from, but did that matter anymore? His intentions were good. He would create a cure for Parkinson’s. And he would be strong enough to test it on himself first.

  He rolled up his shirtsleeve and brought the tip of the syringe to his arm.

  He would risk his life for the good of humanity. He was a hero.

  Lance pressed the point of the needle into his arm and depressed the plunger, inhaling sharply at the pain that accompanied the injection of the serum. When the barrel was empty, the syringe slipped from his hands and landed first on the counter before falling onto the tile floor as Lance stumbled backward.

  “Professor?”

  He hadn’t heard the lock turn on the door. Judy walked into the lab. She was the young student who was more nuisance than help, no matter her intention.

  “Are you all right, Professor?” she asked, looking at him with a strange expression on her face.

  She blurred in his vision as he felt the wall at his back.

  “I’m fine,” he managed, but he felt himself slipping down, his back sliding along the wall until finally he sat on the floor.

  “Professor!” Judy called out, rushing to him.

  “What’s going on?” another of the professors walked into the room just as Lance’s vision began to clear.

  “It’s nothing,” Lance said when things came back into focus. He rose slowly to his feet. “Just tripped.” He picked up the needle that had fallen and stuck it into his pocket before anyone saw. “Thank you Judy, Professor,” he managed. “I’ve stayed rather late and will go home for a bit, take a few hours of rest before I have to be back.”

  He felt the two watching him as he collected his notebook and walked to the door.

  “Thank you. Thank you both,” he managed, quickly gathering his jacket, not bothering or even aware enough to take the lab coat off before he went not to the elevator but to the stairs. He heard them start talking before the door had closed behind him but he didn’t care what they were saying. He didn’t care about them. The serum was doing something to him. The healing powers came on much more quickly and with much greater impact than he realized they would. He smiled as he stepped onto the first floor landing just moments after having entered the stairwell on the eighteenth floor. He felt strong. For the first time in a long time, he felt strong. He hadn’t realized he’d forgotten the feeling.

  * * *

  The heat and humidity had tapered off in the last months and New Orleans was, once again, inhabitable. Marcus opened his eyes and promptly closed them again. His head throbbed, forcing the memory of the night before on him. Someone made a sound next to him and rolled over, tugging the blankets off his naked body.

  Marcus grunted and forced himself to look over at the woman he’d slept with last night. A different one from the night before and the night before that. She was sound asleep and he took the opportunity to rise up out of the bed. Locating his clothes, he pulled on his jeans and t-shirt, found some money in his pocket, and tossed it onto the nightstand before stepping out the door. He’d paid well for her services. A shadow darkened his eyes. He had used her long and hard, she’d earned her money along with her own pleasure. But no matter how many of these nights he had, no matter how many women he had, how much drink he drank, she wouldn’t let him be. She wouldn’t forget him as sure as she’d not forgiven him for leaving.

  But did he deserve forgiveness? He’d come back from the dead only to leave her again after all the years Rachel had waited for him. Loyally waited for him.

  He muttered a curse under his breath. He hadn’t shifted in a long time. In wolf form, he could hear her calls. He could hear Elijah. And he wouldn’t answer either. He couldn’t.

  What had happened to him in those eight years had changed him. Made him hard. Made him even less human than he was. He had become dark, some of the evil having worn off on him. He was no longer good, if he had ever been good. It was too long ago to remember anymore.

  She deserved a simple, normal, human life. She wasn’t a shifter; she was human. The gene she carried would simply lie—not quite dormant but anesthetized at least. If he could leave her be, she would have a chance at a normal life. And he would leave her be. He had decided that when he had said goodbye.

  But damn her! Visions of her still haunted him. The touch of her skin still on his fingertips. The feel of her lips, her mouth, her hot tongue. He had left her a virgin and never fully bonded her to himself. Rachel was free and would remain free of him.

  He turned onto Bourbon Street and wandered into the first bar he saw.

  Chapter Four

  Rachel, Elijah, Clarissa, and Kayla had spent three days at the cabin. The weather had been beautiful and they had hiked every day and sat by the fire every night. Talk of Marcus came up, as it always did, but in a way, Rachel was beginning to accept his absence. Or so Kayla thought. She wasn’t over him and couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t contact any of them, but the important thing now was for Rachel to begin to move on. None of them would entertain out loud the thought that he might be dead. They couldn’t.

 
; Rachel had left early yesterday morning and today being Friday, Elijah had reminded Kayla of their first scheduled maintenance night. Kayla had been aroused the entire day and she imagined Elijah felt the same. At half past eight, Elijah had taken the baby, prepared a bottle, and told Kayla to go get ready. Her inspection would begin in half an hour.

  She had showered and shaved herself completely bare, as he liked for her to do, and returned to the bedroom to find Elijah waiting for her on the bed.

  “Am I late?” she asked, surprised to see him there.

  He grinned, one arm draped over the back of the headboard, the other resting beside him.

  “I’m early. Baby is fed and sleeping and I didn’t want to wait. Well, really, I couldn’t wait. Lose the towel,” he said.

  Kayla’s clit swelled with his words and she dropped the towel to the floor.

  “You know better than that. Pick it up and put it away.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, picking up the towel and hanging it up before returning to the bedroom.

  He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “Come here,” he said.

  She knew it was time for her inspection and went to stand between his legs, keeping her feet at shoulder width as he liked and placing her hands at the back of her head.

  He looked at her and smiled. “Good girl,” he said, then scanned her body. “You look good, Kayla. I like your tits swollen like that.” He brushed the backs of his knuckles over one nipple which hardened immediately. He then ran those fingers down her belly to her shaved pussy. He paused there and pressed the space just above her clit, making her want to lift just a little to place herself onto his thumb. He then put both hands on either side of her pussy lips and spread them open.

  She made a small sound. He looked up at her and smiled. “Patience,” he said, then returned his gaze to her sex. “You’re already wet and swollen and I’ve barely touched you.”

  He looked at her for a while longer before finally bringing his mouth over her clit. It was a kiss, nothing more. As much as she wanted him to close his lips over her clit and suck, he only kissed her softly, his tongue just teasing the hard nub before sliding all along her pussy.

  “Shaved in the back too?” he asked, moving his hands to hold her hips and looking up at her.

  “Yes, Sir,” she said.

  “Show me. Turn around and grab your ankles.”

  Her eyes grew wider. She’d done this for him before. She’d done it a hundred times. It was just the moments immediately before turning around and bending over for him, legs wide, every part of her exposed, those moments did her in even as her pussy leaked onto her thighs with arousal.

  He smiled, waiting patiently. She knew he liked this, liked to draw it out, liked to have her vulnerable, exposed. Enjoyed seeing her embarrassment show on her face.

  She turned slowly and bent deeply, taking her legs just a little wider as she did. She wrapped her hands around her ankles.

  “Christ, girl,” he said. His hands were on her buttocks in the next moment and she felt his mouth at her pussy, his tongue extended, licking her, trailing up along her cleft slowly, teasing, returning to her pussy, penetrating there. But when he slid it up again and this time, circled the tight ring of her anus with his tongue, she gasped and began to straighten.

  “Down.” It was a command, nothing less. “You belong to me, Kayla. I’ll do what I please. Down. Now.”

  She hesitated for a moment before taking hold of her ankles once more. She closed her eyes when his tongue circled once again and this time, the fingers of his other hand found her clit.

  “Oh…” she sighed. But he stopped too quickly then and slapped her hip gently.

  “Up. Turn around and look at me.”

  She did, her face flushed from both the position she’d been in and the embarrassment of what he’d just done.

  “Who owns this body?” he asked, tapping a hand against her hip.

  “You do, sir.”

  “And what should I do if you deny me any part of it?”

  “Punish me, sir.”

  He smiled, satisfied, and opened the drawer on the nightstand.

  She watched him retrieve a butt plug and a tube of lubricant.

  “On your knees on the bed. Your back to me,” he said, standing.

  She climbed up onto the bed and knelt there.

  “Here,” he said, holding the plug and the lubricant out to her.

  “Here, what?” she asked, confused. They’d used this plug before and she quite liked it—after her bottom had stretched enough to take it. But he’d always been the one to insert it. That made a difference somehow. Even after everything they had been through together, everything he knew about her and she him, if he did it, it was easier. She took no responsibility.

  “I want to watch you put the plug inside your ass,” he said.

  “Oh,” she managed, knowing from the heat of it that her face had gone bright red. It took her a moment before she reached out to take the plug from him.

  “You’ll want to rub some of the lube on yourself first,” he advised, smiling, as if they were having a discussion about dinner.

  “Um…” She looked down at the items.

  He went to sit on the chair just across from the bed and gestured for her to get on with it.

  Kayla set the plug onto the bed and opened the tube of lubricant, squeezing some onto her fingers. She glanced at him once more and, feeling incredibly aroused and wanton, she bent forward onto her one hand and, making sure he could see everything clearly, she began to rub the stuff onto her bottom hole, circling like he would do, feeling the same sensations and something more, something different now that she was putting on a show for him.

  She saw from over her shoulder that he had unzipped his pants and was massaging the thick length of his cock, his eyes trained on her bottom.

  Gaining strength from the effect this was having on him, she leaned farther forward and brought the tip of the plug to her bottom hole. She began to press it against her ready opening. She worked slowly, taking it a few centimeters at a time, circling there, pulling it out then reinserting it again and again, just like he did. When she had it half way in, Elijah stood and walked over to her, stilling her hand and taking the plug from her. She gave it to him and leaned down onto her elbows, bringing her face into the bed, lifting her hips high, offering him her ass.

  “You drive me wild,” he said, one hand on her hip, gripping her tightly as he pressed the plug into her. “I’m going to fuck this hole tonight, Kayla.”

  She moaned and moved a hand to her pussy. He smacked her ass hard when she did, but she didn’t take her hand away. Instead, she found herself lifting her hips higher to him while he worked the plug into her and she massaged her clit.

  “You’re a naughty girl,” he said. “I think it’s a good thing we’ve resumed maintenance night. Now get your hand off your pussy,” he said, smacking her hip once more, this time just a little harder.

  “Ow!” She placed her hand back on the bed.

  “There,” he said a moment later as her bottom closed around the base of the plug. “You can stand.”

  She did so slowly with his help.

  “It’s been a while so just some reminders. During maintenance, you will only speak when spoken to. You’ll keep your eyes on me the entire time unless told otherwise, and you’ll do exactly as I say without hesitation, without protest, understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Any questions before we start?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Sir,” he reminded.

  “Sir,” she repeated.

  “Good,” he said. “Lay across my lap.”

  Without a word, she lay herself down, placing her hands on the floor, knowing to keep her legs straight, her feet on the floor. He began by caressing her bottom. “Are you going to be a good girl and keep hands and feet on the floor throughout your spanking?” he as
ked.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll try.”

  “No, don’t try, Kayla. Just do it.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, looking straight ahead. This wasn’t a punishment but it wouldn’t be painless. She both wanted it and was frightened of it, especially the first few. As ready as she thought she was for them, those initial smacks always took her breath away. And tonight was no different.

  “Oh!” she gasped with the first one.

  Elijah stopped to caress the spot he’d just struck before moving on to deliver a second to her other cheek.

  She somehow managed to keep her hands on the ground and only kicked her legs up twice while he spanked. When she did, he struck her hip harder, warning her.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” she said quickly.

  He continued with the spanking until her bottom felt hot and throbbed with pain. A manageable pain but pain none the less.

  “You’re nice and pink now,” he said. Pushing her legs farther apart so his knee was between them. “And soaked.”

  She pressed her clit against his knee while he pushed a finger inside her.

  “Don’t come yet, baby.”

  “No, sir.”

  She felt him at the base of the plug and pushed, closing her eyes and grinding into him when he pulled the plug almost all the way out then pushed it in again, fucking her ass with it while she ground her clit against his hard thigh.

  “Mmmmm… please…”she begged, too close to orgasm and not wanting to be punished if she came.

  “Too much?” he teased, still playing, still penetrating.

  “Yes. Oh… I’m too close. Sir.”

  “All right,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice as he pushed the plug back inside her. She turned to him, confused. She wanted him to fuck her now. She was ready. Christ, she was ready. And she could feel how ready he was.

  “Corner time, baby. Hands on your head, nose to the wall. You know the drill.”

  He helped her straighten and it took all she had not to protest. Instead, she walked over to her corner and stood as she knew how while he remained there, likely watching her, her exposed, pink bottom on display for him. This time both humiliated her and aroused her, and she waited quietly until she heard him get up off the bed and come up behind her. He took her arms and placed them by her sides, kissing her shoulder, the back of her neck, her ear.