Claimed by the Beast

by Natasha Knight

  She covered her face with her hands, tears forming in her eyes. “He’s so angry,” she said. “I want it to stop!” He was hurting someone. Killing them. She could feel the violence of the creature, feel its rage.

  This time when Marcus pulled to the side of the road, he climbed out of the car and was beside her in moments, lifting her out of the car and holding her to him. Holding her so tight she couldn’t move as the creature’s thoughts and emotions pillaged her mind, the rage growing, piquing, and then finally, after what she thought was hours, it slowly subsided and then was gone altogether.

  She pulled back and looked up at him, realizing she had only once seen Marcus in a rage in wolf form and that had been the other day. The day he had rescued her. She knew they killed, of course she did. But she had never felt it like this before.

  “It’s so much more intense than with you or with Elijah,” she managed, exhausted by the emotions.

  “Let’s get home.”

  * * *

  Marcus drove to his house, which was on a quiet street with only a few houses on it. The creature was coming for her, he knew it would. If Lance Weston had any control over it, it wouldn’t kill her, at least not until Weston had taken what he needed from her body. That thought made him sick, using her like a specimen, like he had been used. He fisted the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. His plan was to leave Rachel at his house while he returned to help Elijah track down and kill the creature and then find a way to get to Dennison, but now, he feared he wouldn’t be able to leave her alone. What if it could track her through her thoughts? What then?

  “This is my house,” he said, squeezing her hand.

  “It’s cute,” she said.

  “It’s not cute,” he said, smiling. It wasn’t. It was little more than a broken down, forgotten home he had been able to rent cheap. He had done some work on it in the year so the inside was in better condition than the outside, a part of the deal with the old woman he had rented it from. It was on the outskirts of town and backed into the woods so he had a lot of privacy. He had never brought women back here. In fact, no one had set foot in this house but him in the last year.

  He parked the car and they climbed out. He watched her as she took in the house, smiling.

  “Come on, it’s too dark to see anything now.”

  She went to him, sliding her hand into his. He squeezed it, appreciating the gesture. He thought back to the night and to her spanking. This little gesture showed she trusted him. Maybe she had even forgiven him.

  “The living room isn’t much, but the kitchen is in slightly better condition. Bedroom is here,” he said, leading the way back. It was only a two bedroom house with a living/dining room and an eat-in kitchen so the grand tour would take all of two minutes. “The guest room is unfurnished,” he said, opening a door to let her peek inside. “But this is the best part.”

  He led the way to his bedroom where he had a large, king-sized bed with a head and footboard he had carved out of log. It was a heavy, unique piece and completely masculine.

  “Wow,” she said, sitting down, testing the mattress. “This is great.”

  “Wait, best part is coming,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to the large bathroom.

  “Oh, wow,” she managed when she stepped into the completely redone bathroom. He smiled. He had taken the old bathroom and converted it into a luxurious space with a bath big enough for two, a separate shower, and vanity.

  He ran the bath, testing the temperature of the water before wiping off his hands.

  “Get undressed and just relax. I’ll be in to join you in a bit. Let me just call Elijah to let him know we’re here.”

  “Okay,” she said, smiling. She was trying to hide how upset she had been just a few minutes ago but he knew better.

  He took her face in his hands and forced her to look up at him. “It’s going to be okay. You’re safe and we’re going to survive this. Look at us, Rachel. We’re survivors.”

  For a moment he thought she would break down again but she managed the tears that filled her eyes and smiled, hugging him. “I love you.”

  He held her to him, cradling the back of her head. “I’m not going to let anyone or anything hurt you, baby.”

  * * *

  Rachel lay with her head resting against the back of the tub, her body submerged beneath the water, the only sound that of the drops of water that fell now and again from the tap. Humidity clouded the bathroom and her body felt soft and completely relaxed. She barely noticed when the door opened and closed. In fact, she was startled when she heard the water begin to drain and opened her eyes to find him standing in the bathroom, watching her.

  “Stand up,” he said, taking a towel and drying his arm before he pulled his shirt over his head.

  She swallowed, his powerful body doing things to her, making her want him. Slowly she stood, the cool of the air after her too hot bath chilling her momentarily. Her nipples pebbled and goose bumps covered her, but he didn’t hand her a towel. Instead, he pulled up a stool and sat down, gesturing for her to step out.

  She squeezed the moisture from her hair then let it fall down her back and did as he said.

  He made no secret of looking her over and she noticed how his jeans pulled tightly over his crotch.

  “Turn around,” he said.

  She did slowly, her pussy swelling in anticipation.

  “Spread your legs and bend over, put your hands on the edge of the tub.”

  She glanced behind her for a moment, the idea embarrassing her, but when he simply nodded, she did as he said, slowly bending, her legs wider than shoulder width. She arched her back, knowing he would want that, lifting her hips high, feeling the first trickle of her own arousal slide down her thigh.

  “You’re fucking beautiful,” he said.

  She turned back to watch him rise to his feet, the size of him overwhelming her. She loved that he was so big. She felt safe, knowing no matter what, he could protect her.

  He came to stand behind her, his hands on her hips, spreading her wider. He caressed her bottom, the fingers of one hand traveling underneath, fingering her sex, tickling her clit while the other hand held her spread, the tip of one finger coming to rest on her bottom hole, applying the lightest pressure there. He remained like this and she imagined him looking at her, seeing all of her. Then, moving his hands so he pulled her cheeks farther apart, he knelt behind her and before she could panic at the idea of him, of his face there, his tongue licked between her pussy lips, a long, slow caress, heat on heat, wet on wet. She widened her stance with a moan and lifted her bottom up to him, wanting more, wanting him to lick all of her, to take her clit into his mouth and to suck it hard. She gushed with desire, feeling her pussy moisten, his tongue traveling between her clit, her pussy and finally up the cleft and to her anus. She gasped when he circled there then his finger was back, slick with her own juices, pressing against that tight hole while his mouth closed over her clit. She moaned when one finger slid into her pussy and the other pressed against her bottom hole until her body gave a little, allowing him entry as her arousal grew more intense. It wasn’t long before she was panting, but when she bent a knee, bringing her thighs together, he slapped her hip. It wasn’t hard but it was sharp in contrast to the softness of his mouth.

  “Straight legs,” he said. “And don’t come.”

  “I can’t…” she managed and when he closed his mouth over her clit again, she was lost. He sucked harder then, drawing out her orgasm, the sensations overwhelming, almost too much when he wouldn’t stop sucking even after she had come.

  “Please,” she begged, trying to push him away. “Too much.”

  He sucked a moment longer then chuckled and stood, taking a handful of hair, lifting and turning her, bringing her face to his, devouring her mouth with his, a hint of her taste lingering on his lips. She reached up to touch him and would have hugged him to her but he pushed her to her knee
s, holding her there by her hair in one hand as he undid his jeans. She took over then, pulling them down, freeing his cock, opening her mouth to lick the tip of it, unsure what to do—knowing only that she would taste him, that she wanted his cock in her mouth, wanted his hand in her hair tugging her forward and back, fucking her mouth. He made a sound and pressed too far back, forcing her to push against his thighs as she coughed and choked. He stopped, lifting her head by the hair he still held, looking down at her.

  “You’re a bad girl, coming when you’ve been told not to,” he said. “I might spank you for that.”

  She stared at him, opening her mouth to protest, but he only tightened his hold on her hair. “No words. Just relax your throat and take my cock,” he said.

  She nodded and opened wide, bracing her hands against his thighs, trying to relax her throat as he said but failing, choking as he brought her head forward, pushing his cock into her mouth, trying for the back of her throat. He slowed for a while, teasing her mouth with his cock, coaxing her to open, to relax, to let him have the back of her throat, and somehow she managed, even as his movements came more quickly, his cock thrusting in and out of her mouth, she concentrated on his face, his eyes, the ecstasy there, the taste of him when he stilled, his cock throbbing deep inside her mouth, his seed spilling down her throat, filling her mouth, sliding down her chin when he pulled out.

  He held her there, breathing hard, his hand still in her hair while he watched her.

  “Swallow,” he said.

  She did, obeying his command without hesitation, wanting the taste of him, wanting to keep him inside her, wanting his pleasure.

  “Good girl,” he said, letting her hair go and caressing her now, slowly coaxing her to her feet so he could kiss her again, hug her to him. He carried her into the bedroom and lay her on the bed, tucking her in beneath the thick comforter. “But I’m still going to spank you tomorrow for coming when you were told not to,” he said, chuckling as he slid in beside her.

  “Spank me for coming? I can’t help that, Marcus. It’s not like it’s on demand or something.”

  His smile was teasing though and she knew if he did spank her, it would be a different sort of spanking than what he’d given her the night before.

  “It’s just a matter of training, Rachel.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him and he laughed out loud.

  “Get some sleep. You were almost out when I came into the bathroom.”

  “You’re mean,” she said, touching his face, pushing a stray hair away.

  “You like it.”

  “Hmm,” she said, looking into his eyes, both of them sobering, just watching one another, not needing to say anything at all.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Marcus watched Rachel sleep, listening to the quiet sound of her breath. She was so soft, her skin so pale that the only word he could think of when he looked at her was ‘fragile’. She made a sound and moved a little. He watched her mouth form words without sound and her expression changed, then relaxed again as she settled back into sleep.

  He moved a little, pulling the covers off her, wanting to look at her as she lay. He had to smile at her small protest when, even in sleep, she reacted to the cooler air, tucking her arms closer to her chest, pushing nearer him, then settling against his chest once again. She still looked the same, her long dark hair a stark contrast as it lay like a fine veil over her shoulders and back. The features of her face were small and delicate, like the rest of her. He touched her shoulder lightly, pushed her hair away, and kissed it. He then slid his hand over her arm, onto her waist, and up over her hip. She moaned for a moment but remained sleeping. His cock grew hard but he turned away, tucking her back under the thick comforter as he climbed out of the bed. It was half past five, still too early to wake her. The drive had been exhausting for her given the circumstances that surrounded it.

  Without bothering to dress, he wrote a note telling her to remain inside in case she woke before he returned. In the kitchen, he set a packet of oatmeal on the counter, the only food he had in the house, and prepared the coffee machine so she would only have to push a button. He wanted to hunt and he needed to communicate with Elijah. They had agreed yesterday to use the phone as little as possible in case their locations were traced. They had decided on 7:00 a.m. He had enough time to hunt before Elijah was ready.

  * * *

  She didn’t remember falling asleep but when she next opened her eyes, the sun was up. She smiled and stretched, feeling well rested, and rolled over, realizing quickly that she was alone.

  “Marcus?” she called out.

  No answer. She sat up and spied the note on the bedside table.

  Rachel,

  I hope to be back before you wake, but in case I’m not, please stay in the house. Coffee is ready in the machine; you just have to turn it on.

  See you soon.

  M

  P.S. You’re very cute when you talk in your sleep.

  She smiled again and set the note down. It was almost half past six. Her stomach growled and the thought of coffee was heaven. Climbing out of the bed, she found his t-shirt and slipped it over her head, inhaling deeply. His smell was still on it. Barefoot, she walked over cold tile into the kitchen, found the packet of oatmeal, and rolled her eyes. She was too hungry for oatmeal. She switched the coffee machine on and went to inspect the contents of the refrigerator, which took all of one second as it was completely empty aside from one can of soda.

  Okay, she could wait. He said he would be back before she woke. She’d just have a quick shower, then drink a cup of coffee. Then they could go out for a big breakfast.

  In the bedroom she found the bag he had packed for her and took out some clothes, then went into the bathroom, her mood darkening a little. She had to remember she wasn’t on vacation. Marcus and she were not a ‘normal’ couple. They were on the run from a man who turned into an out of control creature and who knew how many others from this lab in Pennsylvania. Their being here together wasn’t a romantic getaway. It was a matter of life or death.

  She showered quickly, dressed, and towel dried her hair before braiding it into a fishtail to the side. She poured a cup of coffee and drank it while inspecting the contents of the cupboards, then the living room. There was no TV to keep her company and he didn’t seem to own a single magazine. She looked out the window onto the quiet street, poured a second cup of coffee, and finished that. She washed her cup and leaned against the counter, exhaling a breath. This was boring. And she was hungry.

  They had passed a small convenience store just two blocks from the house. Surely he wouldn’t mind if she ran out and bought some food. She could have the bacon cooking before he even walked in the door. Besides, his brand of coffee wasn’t exactly good coffee. She picked up her purse, checked to make sure she had some cash, took her keys, and walked out the front door, only considering for one moment that she wouldn’t be able to lock it behind her. She’d only be gone for fifteen, twenty minutes tops. It would be fine.

  * * *

  Still in wolf form, Marcus heard the car start when he neared the house. He ran to the edge of the woods, snarling, lifting his nose into the air but picking up no new scents, no sound of struggle. He caught sight of the car as Rachel backed out onto the street. Relief flooded him when she drove down the road at a leisurely pace. At least she wasn’t in trouble. Well, at least not in trouble that could get her hurt. Remaining in wolf form, he followed the car and watched, hidden from sight, as she parked at the local convenience store and walked inside.

  He scanned the parking lot. There were several other cars but nothing out of the ordinary. She walked quickly into the store while he waited patiently, growing angry about her having left the house after he had told her explicitly not to. Was she so oblivious to the danger she was in?

  A quarter of an hour later, she emerged from the store carrying two plastic bags full of food. Balancing them awkwardly, she managed to get t
he trunk open and loaded them into it. She looked quite satisfied with herself as she climbed back into the driver’s seat and drove back to the house.

  That was when he saw the shiny black Volvo with the tinted windows turn the corner. Marcus watched it, a low growl building in his chest. He then ran at full speed, chasing the cars back to the house.

  * * *

  Rachel drove back over the gravel road and to the quiet little house. She hadn’t been gone even half an hour but she still felt anxious, worried now that when he found out she had left the house, Marcus would be angry. Her spanking of a few nights ago was still fresh on her mind, even if the physical reminder had long worn off.

  She parked and switched off the engine, looking toward the house. Was he home waiting for her? Had he been worried that she was gone? She hadn’t even thought to leave a note. She climbed out of the car and went to the trunk, but before she opened it, she heard the sound of tires on the otherwise deserted road and turned, her heart racing when the black Volvo pulled in behind her and both of the front doors opened before the car had even come to a complete stop.

  “Miss Maren?” one of the men asked, walking toward her.

  Rachel took a step back, feeling the color drain from her face as the back door opened and another man climbed out, speaking into his cell phone for a moment before disconnecting the call and turning to her.

  “Miss Rachel Maren?” the same man asked.

  Her throat was dry and she was unable to answer. The men walked closer, one of them smiling a little. He was the largest of the three. If the smile was meant to reassure her, it did not.

  “Lucky we saw your car when we did, we’d almost given up,” the man from the backseat said.

  “Who are you? What do you want?” she asked, reaching out to touch the door handle of her car, knowing she would never be able to get in and drive away without one of them grabbing her.