Enslaved by the Alpha (Shifters of Nunavut Book 2)

by Rivard, Viola

  With one powerful thrust, Erik claimed her. Reactions clashed within him. He was simultaneously awash with euphoria and jarred by shock.

  She was a perfect fit.

  Erik had fucked females twice her size that had not been able to accommodate his entire length. He was accustomed to having as much as half of his cock dry, and it was the main reason he rarely cared to rut in human form. The pleasure of being nestled fully inside of her wet, hot body was amplified by the contrast of the frigid air that swept through the tunnel.

  Over the sound of his thundering heartbeat, he could hear snarling. He thought it was in his head, but soon became aware that the feral noises were coming from him. While his mind had swum, disoriented by pleasure, his body had begun working of its own accord. He had grabbed ahold of her hips, securing her in place so that he could thrust into her at a furious pace.

  Erik was not ignorant to the fact that his initial entrance had hurt her. He’d been only vaguely aware of her scream, but with each thrust he felt her inner walls straining against him. He had stretched her to her limit, skewing the line between pleasure and pain. He felt no guilt, only satisfaction that no other male had ever filled her as he did.

  As her whimpers steadily morphed into moans, Erik could feel his own pleasure heightening. His hands clamped down on her hips, the muscles of his arms growing taut. His abdomen seemed to coil and he felt his sac begin to tighten with his impending release. A release that…would not come.

  Erik’s jaw clenched as the tension continued to build, well past the point where he should have been able to climax. Pleasure gave way to discomfort as his sac began feeling too heavy, his cock, too swollen. He thrust harder, trying to focus on the feel of his head hitting the back of her sheath. Soon, even that was not enough to distract him from the pain.

  What finally hit him wasn’t a release. It was pure relief, cut with sheer ecstasy. He lost all awareness of time and his surroundings, his entire being centered on the sensation of his seed bursting from within him and filling his human.

  Delirium subsided slowly, like early-morning fog. When his head was nearly clear, Erik became aware of blood. The sweet, coppery liquid filled his mouth, and he opened his eyes to see that his head was buried in the human’s neck.

  At some point during his climax he had bitten her—branding her with his mark. As he licked at the wound, he felt his wolf settle within him, contented. The human, however, was trembling. Her breath came in and out in uneven gasps.

  Erik wanted nothing more than to collapse and remain just where he was, on top of her, inside of her. But the layer of sweat on her skin had begun to chill, and he knew that he would have to get her somewhere warmer.

  With great reluctance, he pulled out of her. The cold air was never comfortable on his wet manhood, but it was especially brutal after he’d just been fully enveloped in her hot, tight passage. Growling despite himself, Erik grabbed the pelt he’d worn earlier and wrapped it around her legs, before picking her up.

  She was still trembling, though as he carried her down the tunnel, her shaking began to wane. She said nothing, which for some reason annoyed him. He realized that without her usual incessant chatter, he could not tell what she was thinking. Everything about her was too foreign to him and it was impossible to predict the way her mind would work.

  Erik looked down, hoping to glean something from her expression, but she’d turned her head into his chest. She appeared calmer now, and as he pulled her closer to him, the last of her shaking ceased.

  Why did he care what she was thinking? Since when had it concerned him what anyone was thinking, least of all, a human?

  Erik took the long way back to her room, using the extra time to clear the intrusive thoughts from his head.

  ***

  Everything hurt.

  And why wouldn’t it? In the past hour, Astrid had been pushed against a wall, thrown onto the floor, forced onto her knees, fucked mercilessly, and then bitten. She wasn’t sure why that last part bothered her the most.

  Erik placed her down onto the furs and then stood, wordlessly. She missed his warmth, but was glad that he was leaving. She needed time to process everything that had just happened, and for once, she did not want to talk.

  Her mind was preoccupied, thinking about, of all things, her ex. Not about the loving, easy relationship they’d had, or even about the breakup that she’d long-since vowed to only cry about while in the shower. She was thinking about the sex they used to have.

  Neil had been the first person she’d ever had sex with. The awkward hand job she’d given to her junior prom date did not count, no matter what Father Marcus said.

  Though she’d only had sex with one person, Astrid had felt that she’d experienced the full spectrum of relationship sex. Early on, when they’d been in college, their sex had been fun and silly. They’d usually made a game of it. How long could they kiss before one of them caved? How loud could they be without waking Neil’s roommate?

  Then, they’d gotten married. While their sex lost its silliness and became more routine, she’d enjoyed it far more. There was a deep intimacy that had not been there before. When she had an orgasm—not every time, but often enough—Astrid had seen stars. She would fall asleep in Neil’s arms and dream about the amazing future that awaited them.

  When they first decided to start a family, sex suddenly became fresh and exciting again. It no longer felt like something they were supposed to do, but rather, something with renewed purpose.

  As weeks of trying turned into months of trying, sex became more structured. There were specific days they had to do it, then specific times, and then specific positions. And as the months stretched into a year, they’d both forgotten that sex could even be enjoyable. She stopped seeing stars and falling asleep in his arms, and would instead lay with her back to his, staring at the wall.

  After that, sex became a way for them to express the anger and resentment they held in during the day. Then, it became dispassionate. And then, it had ended.

  Astrid had thought she’d had every kind of sex, until now.

  Erik had not kissed or fondled her, he had not asked her “do you like that?” or “how does that feel?” Even when it was obvious that he was hurting her, he hadn’t stopped. If anything, he had been rougher. Her neck was bleeding, her back was scratched, and she wasn’t sure if she would ever walk the same again.

  He had hurt her.

  And she had loved it.

  Astrid conjured up memories of her failed relationship, mostly in an effort to distract herself. She didn’t want to examine why being savaged by a near-stranger had been one of the most thrilling experiences of her life.

  You want me to tear your clothes off, push your legs apart, and force myself inside of you.

  Yes.

  From the moment he’d thrown her up against the wall, she had wanted all of that. And by the time she’d been on her knees, feeling him rub his erection against her clitoris, she had needed it.

  You want me to bite you, scratch you, and take you like the animal we both know that I am.

  No.

  She had not known that she wanted any of that. How could she have? She had only ever been with a human man, had only ever had human sex. She hadn’t known how exhilarating it was to be with someone that looked like a man, but possessed all the carnality and unpredictability of a feral wolf.

  You want me to hurt you so that you can tell yourself that you are a victim.

  She should have felt victimized. He hadn’t asked her. He’d taken everything, and with no regard for how she’d felt. Yet aside from her bitten neck, which still throbbed with pain, she had no misgivings about what had happened in that darkened tunnel. Even when it had hurt, she had been with him every step of the way.

  Since when had she been so fucked up?

  A heavy fur pelt fell on top of her, wresting Astrid from her thoughts. She looked up in vain; it was too dark to see. Then, she felt something move beside her. Erik tossed the fu
r over himself, and his large body moved to press against hers.

  Astrid stiffened, unsure what to make of him. She’d expected him to leave her, not stay to cuddle and spoon.

  She broke the silence. “What are you doing?”

  His hand moved under her shirt. Rough fingers grazed her belly as they made their way upwards to grasp her breast. He gave it a hard squeeze and let out an appreciative growl. Then, his hips flexed against her rear, jabbing her with his stiff erection.

  Her eyes bulged. “You can’t possibly want to…go again?”

  She hissed as Erik nipped her neck, his canines pushing against the bite mark. “I am not a human male.”

  No kidding.

  She brought her hand up to push his head back. “Well, I am a human female, and you just—” wrecked me “—really tired me out. Never mind the fact that I was already exhaust—”

  He nipped her again, harder this time. A fresh trickle of blood began to roll down her neck and she felt herself grow excited in the second before he licked it up.

  What the hell was wrong with her?

  She didn’t protest as he rolled her onto her belly. She didn’t say anything at all as he mounted her. There was no build up. Erik went from zero to sixty the second he was inside of her, thrusting with the wild abandon that only an animal could possess.

  She didn’t see stars when Erik made her climax. Instead, it felt like she was shattering into pieces.

  When it was finished, they didn’t cuddle. They didn’t turn their backs to one another to fester in a deafening silence. Erik held her for a moment, his hands roaming over the curves of her body while she trembled, the very cells of her body feeling destabilized.

  Eventually, the shaking stopped. And just when she thought she’d gathered herself, he broke her all over again.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  On television, the day after their lives are upended, people often wake to a brief moment of amnesia. The recent events, if they’re aware of them at all, feel like nothing more than a nightmare that will be dispelled the moment they climb out of bed. Most of them open their eyes, fully expecting everything to be as it was before. Then, reality comes crashing down.

  For Astrid, there was no such respite. She woke from a dreamless sleep, remembering everything. The attack on her campsite, being bound and hauled to the Amarok den, and the depraved marathon of sex she’d had with its alpha, Erik.

  She couldn’t delude herself, mainly because of the pain. The night before, she remembered enjoying the feel of Erik’s claws digging into her skin, as he’d thrust into her like a crazed animal. Part of her had even liked it when he’d bitten her.

  Astrid could hardly reconcile that twisted pleasure with the way she felt now, as there wasn’t a single part of her body that didn’t feel like absolute shit. The slightest twitch caused the scratches on her back to sting. It hurt to turn her neck, her hips ached, and there weren’t enough adjectives in the English language to describe how her vagina felt.

  The most pressing issue, however, was the difficulty she had breathing. For a terrible moment, she thought her ribs might be crushed. But when she opened her eyes, she saw that her chest was being weighted by almost half of Erik’s massive body.

  She didn’t remember when they’d stopped having sex. Towards the end, the whole experience had been a blur. There’d been a few times where she’d thought it was over and had almost passed out, only to have him mounting her again. Apparently, when it had finally ended, he’d collapsed onto her.

  Astrid cocked her head to gaze at Erik’s face. There was the barest trace of blue light in the room, though she wasn’t sure from where. Her eyes seemed to be getting used to the relative darkness of the den, because she was able to make out some of his features. She’d thought that perhaps he’d look different when he slept, less intimidating, perhaps even a bit gentle. But his features looked every bit as hard while in repose. Even the corner of his seductive mouth possessed a small slant, as though prepared at any moment to curl into a mocking grin.

  Physically, Erik was a god. Two days ago, he’d seemed so out of her league that she had a hard time even finding him appealing. Now, she regarded him with muted awe. They had actually had sex, and it had been incredible.

  It would have felt like a fantasy come to life, if not for the facts that he was an uncaring asshole and she was his prisoner.

  She shivered, mostly from the cold. Although his body was like a furnace and blanketed most of hers, the rest of her was exposed to the subzero air of the arctic cave. She reached her hand out, feeling around for a pelt or the clothes she’d been wearing—if they’d even made it back to the room. When her hands came up empty, she sighed and turned back to Erik.

  It surprised her that he hadn’t already awoken, as he seemed like the type that would sleep with one eye open. She wasn’t really ready to face him yet, but she didn’t have much of a choice. Reluctantly, Astrid tapped his shoulder. He didn’t so much as twitch.

  She tried to worm herself free, but Erik’s body was like dead weight on top of her, pinning her to the floor. She tapped his shoulder again, and when that didn’t work, she nudged him. Still nothing.

  “Erik?” her hoarse voice reminded her of how thirsty she was. When was the last time she’d had something to drink?

  Astrid watched Erik’s face, waiting for his eyes to flutter open. When they didn’t, anxiety began to bubble up inside of her. She placed her hand on his side, trying to feel for a pulse or the rise and fall of breathing, but she could feel nothing aside from her own blood pounding in her veins.

  “Erik,” she said again, her voice high and clear. She began shaking his shoulder.

  Is he…dead?

  Panic set in as her mind began to contemplate what would happen if she were found like this. Erik’s pack would assume that she had killed their alpha. They might interrogate her, or maybe they’d just kill her outright.

  “Erik!” she brought her hand down on his shoulder in a loud smack!

  The effect was instantaneous. The alpha shot up, and in one fluid movement, straddled Astrid, twisted her offending arm back with one hand, and wrapped his other hand around her neck.

  Astrid’s reaction was also instant, but had far less finesse. Words flew from her mouth in a panicked jumble. “Sorrysorrysorrypleasedon’tkillme!”

  He held her like that for a few seconds. Her arm felt like it was one twitch away from snapping and her face grew hot as his hand cut off blood circulation. After what felt like eons, he released her and pulled back, regarding her with a bewildered look.

  “Oh my God,” she breathed, her hand going to her neck. Her hand came back sticky, and she saw that the bite mark he’d made the night before had begun to bleed again. “You almost killed me.”

  “What am I doing here?” he asked, rubbing his face.

  Even in her flustered state, Astrid could appreciate that this was the first time she’d seen him look confused. She sat up, hefting her weight onto the arm that hadn’t almost been broken.

  “You fell asleep here.”

  She expected him to apologize, but he just stared blankly at her, his mouth pressed flat. She should have known better by now.

  “Do you always sleep like that?” she asked, cradling her elbow. “I couldn’t even feel you breathing.”

  “How long have we been down here?” he asked.

  Why do I even bother talking to him?

  “No clue,” she said, pursing her lips. “I don’t exactly have a watch. Well, actually, I do. It should be with my stuff. My cellphone, too, though I doubt it gets signal up here. Do you think you could help me find my bag, I—what are you doing?”

  Erik had come to loom over her on all fours, his impassivity replaced by an abrupt and alarming hunger. She caught a quick glimpse of his long erection before his hands were on her hips, trying to move her onto her knees. Scowling, she managed to wriggle free and push against him, her hands and feet against his chest.

  “No, stop it,”
she grit out.

  He stilled, which prompted Astrid to go still as well. She hadn’t thought he would actually listen to her.

  “I’m in pain everywhere,” she told him. “Not to mention, I can’t remember the last time I ate. I could also really use a bath.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You are not washing off my scent.”

  Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Astrid crawled out from under him. He remained on all fours, openly glaring at her.

  “I’m covered in dry sweat, crusted blood, and bodily fluids,” she said, her lip curling in disgust. “I thought werewolves had a really good sense of smell. Can’t you tell that I stink?”

  Erik stood and grabbed his pelt, wrapping it around his body. “I’ll feed you. Get dressed.”

  Mumbling a quiet curse under her breath, Astrid felt around for her clothes. She managed to find the top that Sabine had given her, but the pants were nowhere to be found. She settled for her jeans, though they weren’t half as warm as the fur-lined leather had been.

  As she dressed, she did a quick assessment of her body. Her chest and abdomen were remarkably unblemished, though there were a few scratches on her sides. Her hips were the worst, sporting multiple dark bruises that smarted when she buttoned her jeans.

  Erik watched her as she dressed. He hung in the doorway, arms folded over his chest. His eyes followed her every movement, making her feel self-conscious. She kept her back to him as she struggled to fix the bent hooks on her bra.

  “Why do you hide your body from me?”

  Her cheeks prickled with heat. “I guess I’m just not used to men looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?” he asked, sounding genuinely intrigued.

  “Like they want to eat me.”

  They fell silent for a moment. Still facing away from him, she managed to reshape the hooks and slip into her bra. As she was putting her shirt on, Erik spoke again.