WereSlave Page 3

  Those nights had sated him physically but he’d never known a true sexual connection since his wife. No, never once since Elizabeth.

  He forced his mind clear of the forlorn memories. Right now he craved this woman—in spite of her evil intentions. “I’ll be fine if we do this my way,” he said.

  Grudgingly, he slipped from her heat, instantly missing her welcoming hold and made quick work of shredding the cloth from her arms. She sat up with her back pressed against his chest and rubbed her wrists.

  “Your way? Is that a joke?” She looked over her shoulder, allowing Mace to see the flecks of gold in her forest eyes.

  His heartbeat stuttered, but he kept a stern face. “If I’m your lover, you’ll do as I say and not the other way around.” He nodded to the padded upholstered headboard. “Up against there so I can fuck you properly.”

  Yes, he’d be her lover tonight—and he’d gain more insight to this Queen and her country. Then tomorrow he’d think up a plan for his pack’s release. His people wouldn’t suffer any longer.

  Chapter Three

  Nayla wiped the perspiration from her brow and crawled to the head of the bed. She’d allow Mace to have this night. Yes, she was the Queen and when the lovemaking was over, she would leave this room and he would stay. Imprisoned until he realized his place.

  He had pride, she understood that now. And intelligence. He wasn’t like the rest of the mongrels in the dungeon. Or like the one who had murdered her parents and wounded her body.

  But he still wasn’t human and God only knew how savage he became when he transformed into full werewolf. She had no doubt he needed to remain secured in irons, for the safety of her country.

  At this moment, though, all she cared about was how he was going to satisfy her lonely body. She crushed her breasts up against the red silk padded headboard and braced her hands atop the wooden frame.

  The chains rattled menacingly as he followed behind and sandwiched her between his body and the headboard. His erection was fierce and moist from her juices as he pressed himself against her back. What was he waiting for? The foreplay part was over. She wanted more.

  He scooped her hair from her cheeks, gathered all her long locks into his hands and placed them over one shoulder. She shivered from the intimacy of his gentle actions and how they contrasted with his rough exterior, deep, penetrating voice and enticing animalistic scent.

  His breath was hot against her ear when he said in a low voice, “You’re mine,” and wedged his leg between hers, spreading them apart. “After tonight,” he continued, “you’ll understand that I’m more man than any you’ve had or ever will have.”

  Her heartbeat sped but she remained composed. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She turned her head and met his heavy gaze. The blue seemed to have disappeared from his eyes, leaving only the black of his pupils. As black as his thick mane of hair that hung past his broad shoulders.

  His lips twitched up to a slow, sexy grin and Nayla’s entire body heated. He was more alluring than any man she’d ever laid eyes on, that was for sure.

  “Brace yourself, Nayla,” his deep murmur warned.

  She quickly turned back to the headboard and pressed her forehead to the padding. He butted his legs up underneath her. With one arm he lifted her and pulled her backside to rest against his stomach. His other reached around, skimming her inner thigh. Curious, she peeked down to see him grip his cock and guide it to her pussy. Every inch of him was stunning and she couldn’t wait another moment for him to be inside of her body.

  He held the hard head of his cock against her clitoris and then slowly slid it to her passage and out again. “You’re so fucking wet for me.” His husky voice rumbled against her neck. “How badly do you want me?”

  “Like no one before and no one after. I swear.” Her honesty startled her but she quickly pushed it from her mind when he allowed her to sink down on him.

  She relished each inch as he slipped inside of her, slick and taut, until his thick cock filled her channel. “Aah,” she moaned and her eyes rolled back, mesmerized by the instant warmth crawling up her middle. She clenched tighter to the wood but her palms were clammy.

  “Don’t let go.” He clasped a hand over hers. His other arm still wrapped snug around her waist as his lean, muscular body lodged more firmly against the silk pad. He encompassed her as he held her there, as if nothing else in the world existed but him and this moment of passion.

  With a feral grunt, he lifted her higher with his hips. His cock rammed farther in, caressing her innermost walls. He leveraged her there as he slid out of her just an inch, then thrust back in. Again and then again, faster and harder, he fucked her from behind.

  Warm, tingling pressure built inside her pussy, up to her womb. Her legs were useless, but she didn’t need them anyway as she was so tightly sandwiched.

  “Oh, God, Mace. Fuck me.” Her tight nipples slid against the silk as he drove into her, adding to the pleasure.

  He was relentless as he filled her to the hilt, pushing deeper each time. His force was fierce and unrestrained, as if he wished to punish her.

  But it felt too good to hurt.

  His long, slippery shaft arched up and into her heat, burning hotter as the friction hastened and deepened. This wasn’t lovemaking. No, it was pure lust-driven sex. There was no admiration, no sweet kisses, just a selfish hunger.

  Nayla didn’t care.

  Nothing mattered. Not when his steady, rapid movements were setting a fire ablaze in her core. She was losing control. Her mind blurred as her thighs quaked. The smoldering inside of her had built up too long and now it was bursting free. She released the dam, allowing it to erupt in her belly and surge down her legs, rushing through her blood, popping her nerve endings, slicing off her anxiety and fears. Finally letting go of years of frustration, of loneliness.

  Joyous tears welled in her eyes as a piercing cry filled her ears and she realized too late it was coming from her mouth.

  So what? she thought and smiled to herself. She dropped her head back against Mace’s shoulder as her entire body slackened against his hold. He held her up, his cock still engorged inside her tingly channel.

  “Good girl,” he said low beside her ear. He bracketed her against the headboard as he thrust twice more. A primitive groan escaped his beautiful lips before he pulled out and released his warm seed against her bottom.

  They fell back onto the bed, their bodies entwined as they lay on their sides. She listened to his jagged breathing as her senses returned. She’d miscalculated him. Each second longer she spent with him proved that more and more.

  As he eased her soaked hair from her shoulder and kissed her tingling skin…as his hand drifted down to her bottom and lathered his cum across her backside…she knew she couldn’t make the mistake again.

  No, Mace could never be underestimated.

  Chapter Four

  “Next order of business.” Nayla kept her posture straight and her face solemn as she looked around at the table of men, hoping they wouldn’t guess what—or who—was on her mind.

  Mace.

  She shifted on her throne, her pussy moistening from the mere memory of how he’d pleased her the night before. After he’d tied her up and claimed her with his beautiful cock, he’d softened to her touch. And now she wanted nothing more than for this day to be over so she could visit him again.

  To imagine a Were had captured her desires so thoroughly that she could think of nothing else. She pictured him in her mind as she’d said goodbye, leaving him tangled in bed sheets. She remembered clearly how in between the glimpses of anger, he’d looked at her as if he’d known her a hundred years.

  Even though there was an obvious war in his mind, his taming had been easy. She only hoped he wouldn’t regret the passion they’d shared. She hoped he wouldn’t regress and give in to the rage.

  “My Queen?” Fenton, her appointed councilman from the lower valley, broke her thoughts. “The coven of witches I warned
you about has threatened to stop the flow of the river that leads to Webster’s Farm. They insist Webster owes them monetary compensation for services rendered.”

  Nayla held back a sigh. Was there ever a session when Fenton didn’t bring up the witches? Like many of Paqualette’s residents, he feared the power of the coven but for all Nayla knew, the witches stayed to themselves and never caused any trouble.

  “What services?” she asked, more curious than anything else.

  “They insist they’re the reason Webster’s fields are thriving with wheat.” Fenton cleard his throat. “He’d allegedly gone to them during the drought and asked them to cast a spell for precipitation.”

  “Ah. And Webster denies this claim?”

  “No, my Queen, he doesn’t deny requesting the spell, but he does deny the coven was the reason the drought was broken.”

  Nayla tapped her foot on the floor. Webster always was a cheap son of a bitch. “If the coven wishes to stop the river from flowing to Webster’s Farm then so be it. But I ask that they allow it to flow beyond the farm so no others are harmed.”

  “My Queen, the coven has no proof—”

  “Please, Fenton, the drought lasted for weeks. I’d wondered myself if the witches had any part in the recent rain. Whether it’s true or not, they’ll have to work it out amongst themselves.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. Is there any other business before I adjourn?”

  “My Queen.” Saul stepped from the shadows in the corner of the room.

  “Yes, Saul?”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have a problem with your WereSlave.”

  The image of Mace’s naked body popped into her mind. Defined muscles, tanned skin, sleek build, enticing cock. She tilted her head down, trying to hide the heat that crawled up her neck to her cheeks. Then she guided Saul to the corner of the room, for some privacy. “What of him?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

  “He allowed us to move him into your personal chambers as you requested but he has refused to eat or allow us to properly contain him.” Saul drew his salt-and-pepper eyebrows together. “We’ve tried to respect him as your property, my Queen, but it’s nearly impossible. He’s said he won’t eat until the prisoners in the dungeon are given proper care. And he wants proof of it.”

  “Well,” Fenton muttered, clearly having heard Saul’s words. Murmurs from the men worked their way around the table.

  Wonderful. Nayla shot them a warning glare. “Continue on with the meeting, gentlemen. This conversation is none of your concern.”

  The men bristled but they obeyed and began discussing the next order of business. When she was certain everyone, including Fenton, had given their attention elsewhere, she turned back to her guard.

  “Thank you for coming to me with this, Saul.” Lord, how would she deal with this? “Have any Queens from the past had this problem?”

  “No, my Queen. This is new. I’m afraid you may have chosen the alpha male of the pack. I’ve heard they’re more resistant to taking orders and are difficult to tame.”

  “I see.” So Mace was their leader. He’d certainly proven to her he was a clever being. His tongue was sharp and his mind quick. But what did that say of his pack? Even if they were all intelligent beings, did that stop them from killing? Or did their intellect help them from being caught? If the Great War had proven anything, it had shown how savage the Weres could be. They’d attempted to take over the entire continent, but humans, with help from the Vampires, had thwarted their efforts and nearly exterminated them. Now, only a minute number of packs roamed the continent.

  Nayla pressed her fingers to her temples. Yes, Weres were dangerous. She’d experienced that firsthand. But Mace hadn’t hurt her last night. She couldn’t deny that. He’d pleased her and then he’d let her slip from the bed without a scratch.

  In any case, she couldn’t be certain she was making the right decision by starving the prisoners. She jutted out her chin, satisfied with her decision. “Until I’m confident the Weres in the dungeon are a threat, I want them to be fed and cleaned, starting with the women. If any cause trouble, their privileges will be revoked. Understood?”

  Saul nodded. “Yes, my Queen.”

  “My Queen?” Fenton stood, interrupting again. The room grew silent and all eyes looked to her. “I couldn’t help but overhear. I don’t mean to speak out of place, but—” “Then don’t, Councilman.” Why did the man continually question her? “The people will not like your decision, my Queen. Surely, you must know that.”

  “I’m aware the people are frightened of the Weres but I’m not wavering on this ruling. If you want to take issue with it, bring it to the next session. This one is adjourned.” Nayla took a deep breath. She rarely went against her country’s popular opinion but her gut told her she needed to do it just this once.

  And she refused to even consider having Mace taken away from her. No, not after last night. Not after she realized what she’d been missing. If the country didn’t allow her to have a husband, fine. But she wouldn’t give up her new lover now, or possibly ever.

  * * * * *

  Nayla put her ear to the door but couldn’t hear a sound. What was he doing in there? In her bed chambers. And what the hell had she been thinking when she’d requested he be sent here? A moment of temporary insanity, she supposed. There was a lot of that happening lately.

  In her post-orgasm haze, she’d asked Saul to move him to her room, which was usually her safe haven, not to be shared with anyone. In fact, she’d rarely even allowed the maids to enter. If it hadn’t been for that fleeting fantasy of having Mace’s warm body share her bed every night he would still be locked up in the transition cell.

  Oh well. What’s done is done.

  Besides, Saul had assured her they’d shackled his ankles to the floor. But they hadn’t restrained his wrists. He was too powerful. Thankfully, they’d been able to board up the windows so he couldn’t transform. At least there was that.

  She held tight to the food tray the chef had prepared for Mace and nodded to one of the three guards standing nearby. “Could you open the door for me now?”

  “Yes, my Queen. Will you need assistance inside your chambers?” the red-headed young man asked, his cheeks blushing with each word spoken.

  “No, thank you. I’m sure I’ll be fine, just as I was last evening.” He nodded and removed the multiple locks from the door before pushing it open.

  Nayla stepped inside her room and immediately recognized the new musky aroma mixed in with the usual mild lavender scent. Something wild and alluring. Something a lot like Mace.

  She closed the door behind her and let her eyes adjust to the dim room. To the left, a lit oil lamp sat on her bedside table. Her bed was empty, sheets rumpled. Where was he? Wouldn’t her guards have chained him to the bed?

  Her heart sped as she took in the rest of the room, only to feel him, too late, come up behind her and cup his hand over her mouth. His other arm held her close to his hard body, forcing her to drop the tray of food.

  She gasped and tried to wriggle from his grasp, but his grip was unyielding. “My Queen,” the guard yelled through the door. “Are you all right?”

  “Tell them you’re fine and I won’t hurt you,” Mace whispered roughly in her ear and slowly lifted his hand from her mouth.

  Nayla swallowed any rising fear, hoping the Were would be as reasonable as he’d been the night before. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you. I, uh, merely tripped.”

  “Are you sure, my Queen? Would you like any assistance?”

  “No! No, everything is fine. I have everything under control.” She hoped. She waited for the guard to say more but heard nothing but silence.

  “Very good, Nayla.” Mace slid his searing hand down her neck and rested it on her shoulder. “Now, I don’t have to hurt you,” he took her earlobe into his hot mouth and gently pulled it between his teeth, “much.”

  A shiver rolled down her spine, but she ignored his a
ttempt to rattle her—and the growing need to feel his mouth on other parts of her body. “I brought you some food. You must be hungry.”

  “I told your guards I’m not eating until my pack is cared for. Didn’t they pass the word or are they as obtuse as their Queen?”

  “I beg your pardon?” She jerked away from him and realized he’d let her go too easily. What was his game?

  He stood before her naked with a roguish grin on his face. She’d almost forgotten how stunning he was. Almost. Her heart thumped and her temperature rose a few degrees as she searched his lean, muscled body for any type of restraint. But there were none.

  “What? Are you feeling shy all of a sudden?” He gripped his beautiful cock. “Did you forget how this felt inside you?”

  “That’s not an appropriate way to speak to me.” Her voice squeaked when she spoke and perspiration dampened her skin. Yes, she remembered exactly how he’d felt inside her. And she wanted it again.

  “No? I’m simply beginning from where we left off last night.” He took a step closer. “No ‘fuck me, Mace’ tonight? No ‘have my body as you wish’?”

  “That was in the throes of passion.” She stepped back.

  “Be honest, Nayla. You want me chained. That’s what heats your blood, isn’t it? A WereSlave to fulfill your perverted desires.” His smile broadened.

  “I’m not a pervert. Many Queens before me have chosen a Were as a lover for…for our needs. It’s very common.”

  In a fluid motion, he closed the distance between them and lifted his hands to cup her face. “What if I don’t wish to be chosen as your sex slave?” Frowning now, his gaze lingered on her lips. “What if I choose to kidnap you? What if I tied you up and used your body whenever I had needs? Would that make me an animal?”

  Finally, his somber eyes met hers. She wasn’t sure what to think. He seemed so human, yet everything she’d ever learned about werewolves had told her they were animals.

  And what they’d done to her parents—and to her. She shook her head as resentment rose back to the surface, but thought she’d better