Witch Interrupted (22 page)

“If I am, so are you.” The next blow caught her pussy again. It didn’t hurt, exactly, yet it did. “Surprise.”

“Shut up.” She bit her lip and refused to give him the satisfaction of a moan. “Are you adding this to the report?”

“Perhaps.” He massaged gently, as if soothing the pain away.

“I should have known you were rotten. Damned wolf.” She turned her head sideways, wishing she could see.

He popped her twice in quick succession, both sides of her ass flaring with pain. She yelled at him, and he wouldn’t stop.

Tears threatened, more confusion than pain. “Are you mad at me?”

“If you want me to stop,” he said, “you’ll have to make me.”

“I can’t.”

“Then I won’t stop until I feel like stopping.” He rubbed and spanked her, tempting her with his cock. His hands, when he caressed her, trembled. He fingered her pussy and anus. His breathing grew harsh. “Or I could fuck you now and then start all over again.”

She ached. She needed him. “Yes. Please. Whatever you want.”

“I want you to use your wolf. Do it, Katie.”

“No.”

He teased and paddled her until she did cry. Darkness closed in, helplessness, frustration.

Arousal.

When an intense glow began to soak her ass like a heat lamp, Katie realized Marcus’s slaps were the cause. The pain and heat were alarmingly erotic. His cock nudged her folds, and she felt it twice as much. Twice the yearning. A finger gliding up and down her crack nearly set her on fire.

Humiliation. Stimulation. Desire.

Her nerve endings blossomed, and when he smacked her something inside her melted.

The shameless wetness on her thighs felt like surrender. Something she never, ever did. Ever. She wanted to spread her legs and feel more of this pain mixture where it hurt the most, where it scalded her, where she craved him.

She was throbbing, liquid and achy by the time Marcus thrust a long finger into her pussy. His touch against her swollen clit was an electric shock of pleasure. He flicked her and she gasped.

“You’re soaked,” he said, husky and growling. “You want more, don’t you?”

Yes, please. “No.”

He paddled her for the fib. “How’s your wolf now? Is she ready for me?”

“She wants to rip your head off,” Katie lied. “For that matter, so do I.”

“Prove it.” He rubbed her juices up and down her crack, and it catapulted her to some knife-edge of arousal she’d never before imagined. “Or are you going to let me win?”

She tried to answer and he spanked her. She moaned and squirmed when the hot burn followed. Everything felt so hypersensitive, from her clit to her toes. How much more could she take?

When he tickled her fiery thighs, his palm cupping her mound, she pushed her ass against his groin, begging him to take it to the next level.

Any way he wanted. “I don’t want to fight you. I don’t care about winning.”

“You do outside the bedroom. You won’t stop fighting me.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it?” Slowly, he tucked two fingers into her, traveling deep. She tightened instinctively, knowing how wet she was, knowing nothing could hide the truth from either of them anymore. His other hand caught her clit, pinching and rubbing.

Katie arched her spine and ground against him.

“What do you want?” he asked. “Tell me.”

“I want you.”

“This?” He stroked in and out of her with his fingers, good but not enough.

She whimpered helplessly. “More.”

Marcus leaned down, covering her with his body, intimate as hell, and whispered in her ear. “You tasted better than I dreamed, Katie. Did you like my tongue in your pussy?”

Oh, Goddess.
“Yes.”

His hips thrust against her ass, his cock finding her slick folds. “Do you want me?”

He had no idea how far beyond sex her wanting extended. “I do.”

“I want to come inside you.” He caressed her with his whole body, their skin sensual, sweaty. “I love to feel my cock in your pussy. I love to feel you beneath me. Do you know how hard it is to resist you right now?”

“Agree,” she managed.

“But I’m stopping,” he said, “unless you make me.”

Tears threatened again. She was an emotional wreck, a miserable watering pot trying to soothe her fear and sorrow with sex. “I can’t.”

“Try harder.”

“Please be with me, Marcus.” A tear escaped the blindfold, and she tilted her head to hide it. “Make love to me.”

He was silent for a long moment. In a quiet voice, he said, “That’s what you want?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “I do.”

He kissed her shoulder and began to move. His cock slid through her folds, bumping her clit again and again. Katie started swirling higher, aching for him. All she could do was feel.

Then he stopped. “Use your alpha.”

She squirmed with unrelieved sexual hunger. “I’m out of magic.”

“No, you’re not,” he said, his voice scratchy. He started to pull away from her. “You’re afraid, Katie. You’re too broken to trust me.”

“Like you trust me? I’m not the one who carries around a monkshood antidote.”

“Does that bother you?”

“It hurts that you think I’d…after we…” She couldn’t finish it. When he said nothing, something inside her snapped.

She wanted to be with him, really be with him, and he didn’t care. It had nothing to do with trust. He was simply curious to know what her wolf could do.

Time to find out.

When she released her alpha this time, she didn’t hold back. He stiffened, his hands confining her hips, before he drove into her with a groan. Katie groaned too, the connection so deep it hurt.

He slid along her back as he fucked her, gradually pressing her toward the mattress until she was prone. With one strong arm, he propped her hips, kept her angled toward him. Though she couldn’t see him, it allowed their lovemaking to remain…personal. Snug.

And what she’d nearly admitted. Was he wondering what she’d left unsaid?

He pumped between her legs at a measured pace. Touching everywhere. They moved together, sighing, gasping, striving toward mutual satisfaction. His every thrust took her slowly, slowly, out of her head and into a dimension of pure sensuality.

Moisture slickened her inner thighs, her ass, his cock. The wet glide of their bodies and their heavy breathing filled the quiet trailer. Her stiff, sensitive nipples scraped the sheet as he pushed her. The sultry cream of her longing and the kava and peppermint on his breath tantalized her heightened senses.

He hadn’t said a word about the fact her alpha was gone. All she’d forced was that first, delicious entry. Now she simply held on. Not with her legs or arms—the arms were tied and the knees were jelly. She wrapped her magic around him to show him how she felt. She wouldn’t, couldn’t use words.

When her orgasm approached, he sensed it. He muttered something highly unscientific and adjusted his arm around her hips to find her clit.

Katie cried his name when he touched her, and surrendered, yet again, to his direction. He bit her shoulder. His pace increased. Like a lodestone, he drew her magic and her climax to the surface to bloom.

She convulsed beneath him, trembling and gasping. He was kissing her neck, her ear, encouraging her, staying deep inside her, rolling through her. Couldn’t she please him too? Riding the blissful waves, Katie recklessly poured her magic into him. Her essence found his. They pooled until the boundaries disappeared. There was no slap of rejection, and she didn’t take anything from him.

She gave him everything.

She filled him with magic until he howled.

Marcus’s body felt like lightning had struck him. A massive orgasm squeezed his balls and spurted out his cock. He hadn’t thought anything could feel better than emptying himself into Katie last night, and he’d been wrong.

His heart raced so fast it nearly choked him. His throat closed. When the orgasm finished, he came to rest against her, his cock lodged deep. He didn’t want to move.

It had been so incredibly difficult to keep his mind on his experiment. His wolf turned his senses razor sharp as he reveled in Katie’s smell, her taste, her satiny skin. The sound of her soft cries, the heat in her flesh after he spanked her. The emotion and urgency when she begged him, when she handed herself to him completely. He reveled in her surrender and rejoiced that she didn’t want to force him to take her. She yearned for his mastery, and conquering this powerful, sensual woman satisfied everything he was as a wolf and a man.

He should feel relaxed after lovemaking that passionate, and his bones did resemble slurry. But his brain and nerve endings jangled, as if he’d had several espresso shots in a row.

Katie rested her face on her arm with a sigh, her profile to him. The black silk of the blindfold matched her shiny hair. “Mmm. Was the experiment as good for you as it was for me?”

“I met my goal.” He nuzzled her neck, the fine hair at her nape tickling his chin. His lips felt oddly numb. “I should write my report now.”

“You should test me some more.” Her inner muscles clenched him playfully. He twitched, oversensitive. He wasn’t numb in his cock, that was for sure. She laughed at his reaction and did it again.

“Are you incomplete?” he asked, though he’d smelled her fieriness when she’d climaxed. He didn’t smell it now, another oddness—last night it had lingered for an hour. It had made concentration on statistics difficult.

Right offhand, he could list fifty-three ways he wanted to consummate their relationship. If she wanted another orgasm, he could provide it.

Except he didn’t feel like himself. His innards jostled at him to get up, get up, while his outsides felt blunted and dull.

“I’ll tell you what would make my life complete.” Her knees bent enough for her small bare feet to rub his legs. He could feel it, barely. “Healing powder. My head hurts. And then a nice, long nap.”

“I believe it’s standard to complain of a headache prior to sex, not afterward.” He untied her blindfold clumsily, his fingers like hot dogs. “Was this too tight?”

When the silk fell away, she blinked several times and wrinkled her nose. “Next time, you wear the blindfold.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Increasingly concerned, he went through various spells she could have cast to slow his reflexes. Not only had she been deliciously clean and nude, but as a wolf, he’d have noticed. He’d have felt the magic pop in his ears.

Whatever was happening to him had nothing to do with a spell.

“Are you sure?” Her cheek dimpled as she smiled. “I hear it heightens certain senses.”

The orgasm he’d experienced had been incredible. Too incredible? What if he was having a heart attack? He might require assistance. He reached up and tugged her wrists, intending to free her, but the metal clasp on the cuffs didn’t release. “Huh.”

“That wasn’t a good huh.” She yawned. “Can you hurry? I need to smack you around some before I pass out.”

“You’re not going to hit anyone.” He rolled off her and inspected the handcuffs. His eyes refused to focus. With a growl, he pried the cuffs. It hadn’t taken much effort before the shower, but now he found himself straining. One loop popped with a clink.

The other remained firmly around her wrist.

“I will too hit you. I’m a killer,” she protested. “You said so yourself once.”

“A killer who likes to be spanked.”

“I, ah.” Her gaze met his for one long moment that silenced the crazed pulse in his ears. Her embarrassment was palpable. “I would destroy anyone else who touched me the way you did.”

“What does that mean?” The freckles across her nose and cheeks tempted him to kiss her, but the sex was over until tomorrow night. Kissing had no purpose.

But her lips looked so sweet as she blushed. “Are you going to undo my cuffs or not?”

“Sit up.” Too many concerns nipped him simultaneously. Her blush, the cuffs and whatever was wrong with his sensory receptors. Heart attacks didn’t cause fizziness inside and torpor outside. And if this were a heart attack, gazing deep into his—his test subject’s espresso-hued eyes wouldn’t pause it. “I need a different angle on your wrists.”

With an ill-concealed mutter, she scuffled into a sitting position. Squinting at the handcuffs, she wriggled the metal. “Got a bobby pin?”

He rubbed his left arm. It didn’t ache, which seemed to verify this wasn’t a heart attack. Whatever was happening to his body, it was bothersome but not critical.

“Marcus?” Katie prompted. “Hairpin?”

He quit rubbing his arm before she asked him why he was doing that. “I barely even have hair.”

“What about a paper clip?”

Tired of this, he seized the remaining cuff and pulled hard enough for the metal to hurt his fingers. The unexpected bite of pain made him wince. “Dammit. I don’t understand.”

“You probably warped it when you kept he-manning the lock instead of using a key. Brute strength isn’t always the answer.”

“Well, I can’t he-man it now.” He flipped his hand, shaking away the hurt.

“A likely excuse.” She glared at him, an expression that matched the fact her hair was sticking up all over her head. “You don’t trust me being loose.”

“I wouldn’t need an excuse.” What would she do if he told her he might be sick? “I’d simply keep you handcuffed.”

Katie squeezed her forehead with her free hand. “I don’t want to argue. I’m too drained.”

“There’s no reason for you to be drained. You cast one chi spell.” Hiding the fact his knees bobbled when he stood, Marcus went in search of a paperclip and healing capsules. “Perhaps you weren’t economical with your reserves. You were distracted.”

“It wasn’t the chi spell.” She pulled the sheet around her and groped for her glasses on the side table. “Are you telling me you didn’t notice?”

“Notice that you were distracted?” He shuffled through his odds and ends drawer, discarding straws, plastic utensils, a compass, several screwdrivers, a USB cord, a slide ruler and a penlight before he found a paperclip. “I caused your distraction.”

Marcus tried to remember when he’d started feeling unlike himself. Before the sex? No. He’d felt like his horny self. During the sex? No. He’d felt like his domineering self. At the end?

Possibly. When Katie had orgasmed, she’d sought the dittany link. He’d felt it. That connection would have made sense for a real couple during intercourse since mental openness expressed affection. But they were business partners at best, and she’d been frank about her dislike of him.

After he’d sensed the dittany link, he’d been busy with a monster climax, and everything else had faded to insignificance.

“You’re the one who’s distracted,” Katie said, and he realized she’d been speaking to him for almost a minute. “Are you all right?”

What should he tell her? Marcus stared at the small, lovely woman in his bed, wishing she were trustworthy. Wishing she did feel enough affection for him that she’d bared her essence when he’d been inside her. “I’m fine. I was thinking of…something in the next experiment. What were you saying?”

“I was asking if you noticed that I gave you my magic.” She rubbed her cheek on her bare shoulder as she yawned again. “That’s why I’m drained.”

Marcus froze in the act of handing her the paper clip. “You did what?”

He sank onto the bed, flabbergasted. She’d given him magic? He had witch magic, Katie’s magic, inside him, right now?

She poked him with the paperclip. “You’re welcome.”

“That wasn’t part of the experiment!” He shouldn’t feel like shit with witch magic inside him. He should feel powerful. She must have done something wrong.

She straightened, her eyebrows flying toward her hairline. “How does this change your experiment? You confirmed my wolf gets stronger. We were just…wrapping up.”

He hadn’t calculated the variables. He didn’t know how she’d done it or how much power she’d given him. He hadn’t
known
. “I need to see my lattice.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t save any power to do that.”

“What have you done?” He rubbed his temples. Taking magic from a wolf was one thing; transferring was another. She’d just barged into his psyche without any pretesting.

He hadn’t authorized her to give him…anything.

She was watching him with big, worried eyes. “I thought you’d be pleased.”

The fizzing anxiety shot him back to his feet while his bones and muscles protested his weight. He rested a hand on the cabinets above the pull-down bed. “I’m not pleased.”

“You’re never pleased. Not with me.” Katie realigned the paper clip into the appropriate shape.

She manipulated the cuffs with expertise. She’d done this before. Marcus found himself irritated by the thought of her encountering handcuff issues with a prior lover, but lock picking was more likely due to keeper training than sex play. She’d seemed as surprised by her reaction to the light kink as he was by his.

Was it his wolf who’d enjoyed it—or him? He’d never enjoyed anything kinky prior to the transformation, but he’d never tried anything kinky. Which didn’t answer the question. Was it him or the wolf?

He hated when he couldn’t control his primitive side. That too had been absent prior to the transformation and had plagued him ever since. However, he couldn’t deny he took a keen pleasure in dominating Katie. Seeing her helplessly aroused and at his mercy. No other wolf could have done it, perhaps no other man.

He’d captured her, he’d outsmarted her, and now he’d mastered her. He’d had the deadly Chang Cai bound and begging him to fuck her.

What’s more, he’d had Katie Zhang, who’d been a pain in his ass since that first horrible dragon tattoo, begging him to do more than fuck her. She, not her wolf, had confessed his bay capsule hurt her feelings and asked him to make love to her.

Maybe he had.

The Katie who’d wanted him to love her had left part of herself inside his body. Part of him was inside her body.

He might be numb on the outside and ticked as hell that she’d screwed up the experiment, but it didn’t stop his erection from returning.

Marcus put on sweats to hide it. After he was dressed, she tossed him the handcuffs. He caught them, glad his reflexes hadn’t taken a complete hiatus.

“Do I get clothes?” she asked, saucy and belligerent at the same time. “Or are you planning on keeping me naked and chained up?”

“It’s a thought.” If he didn’t allow clothes, no doubt he’d wake tomorrow and she’d be fully dressed anyway. “I suppose you might get cold.”

“Let me see if I can find where I threw my…” She rolled over on the mattress, the sheet slipping to reveal the supple curve of her back. A mark high on her shoulder showed where he’d bitten her as they’d made…as they’d wrapped up the experiment.

The sheet dropped lower. Her ass was pink from what he’d done to her.

He’d like to bite her there instead of her shoulder. He’d like to hear her cry out his name, desperate for him. He’d like to make love to her again.

Right now. Because he wanted to.

He realized she wasn’t looking for panties and walked to her side of the bed. Wordlessly, he held out his hand. She was in the process of secreting the bent paper clip beneath the mattress. She offered him a shameless grin and held it out. It was almost as if she’d done it to amuse him.

It wasn’t particularly funny that she’d ditch him the first chance she got. She wouldn’t be leaving him so much as undertaking a suicide mission to rescue her father and friends, but either way, he wasn’t going to smile about it.

“Do what you need to do and get back into bed.” He wasn’t giving her that chance. They had a deal, and if she were dead, he’d—he’d not be able to complete his experiments. The experiments she’d torqued, leapfrogging weeks of planning because she’d had some half-baked impulse to please him.

Fucking hell.

“I’m tired,” he added.

Her smile faded. “You’re angry.”

“Tired,” he corrected. He disappeared into the facilities long enough to mop up the water and prepare for bed, knowing she wasn’t handcuffed and could escape, or try to. He was a wolf. He’d be on her in two seconds. At least, that’s what he told himself.

His body felt so worn and old by the time he fell into bed beside her, he couldn’t hide a groan. Sore spots that shouldn’t exist throbbed up and down his back, with a particularly large one in his ribcage.

He cuffed one of her wrists for sleep. If he couldn’t get the lock open in the morning, he’d give her the damned paper clip. He squinted and couldn’t see fingers wiggling, or Katie, or the windows, or anything. When had the trailer gotten so freaking dark?

Covers rustling, she patted his arm, then his chest. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

He couldn’t confide in her. If she knew he was ill, she’d take advantage.

“Good night, Katie.” Marcus rolled onto his side, wincing when his sore hip found the bar beneath the foldout mattress. He couldn’t hear the night birds outside or the wind in the trees, sounds he’d grown accustomed to in this section of the park. The fizzing inside him drowned out noises, mucked with his vision, clogged his nostrils. It was a long time before he could sleep.