Arctic Bound (21 page)

Right when Victor was about to seek out the object of his torment, the cloak was lifted by Blue and only the back of the woman's head was shown. It was pulled back into a ponytail that was braided halfway down her back. Pearls were braided into her hair. Some sort of headdress spanned the top of her head. He couldn't tell if it covered her entire face as her back was still to him. But whoever she was, Sasha didn't like her. The hate evident and clear on her face as she gazed at the woman Blue had chosen for the night's festivities. Blue turned her then. Victor's entire body tightened as sharp spasms of lust rocked his body. It was Nerina.
His Neri.
Blue nodded in his direction and didn't move any further. The cloak had yet to be fully removed still masking her scent to the others. Her eyes clashed with his briefly before she looked to the floor.

He could see that half of her face was covered with the headdress. Emeralds and pearls strung together to create a vision of loveliness that barely hid her unfailing beauty. Her whiskey eyes rimmed in kohl were further enhanced by her thick lashes. They'd dusted her skin with crushed pearls to make her already lustrous butterscotch tone appear even brighter. Her eyes remained downcast and all he wanted her to do was look at him again. Just once more. He wanted to feel their connection. The unbreakable tether that held them together. Peeking from beneath the cloak he could see the elaborate pearl choker she wore. But Blue hesitated. He didn't unveil her. Instead he deferred to Victor.

“Shall I undress her, or would you like to?”

Everyone in the crowd turned envious eyes to Victor. To be allowed this by the clubs owner was the embodiment of respect and loyalty. Victor didn't have to be asked twice. His body, on its own accord rose and he approached the stage. Nerina was his siren, and he, the lost fisherman compelled to heed the call. When he came out of his daze, Victor had no recollection of how he'd gotten from point A to point B. All he cared about was the end game. Blue turned to him bowing low at the waist.

“She's all yours Victor.”

Yes she was.

Victor took a step towards his captive who was enthralled by the cloak and knew the moment he unveiled her fully she would only be in a mild haze. He didn't want that. He wanted her full attention. He looked out to the crowd, a crowd that would normally be restless, but like him they were all under the spell of Nerina's beauty and her act of submission. Sasha had yet to say anything. But then she knew her place. Here in Blue's club only Blue could veto what was about to happen. She could either watch, or leave. Either way this was going to happen. He was going to claim Nerina. Not in the way he should, but in a way she would at least be his.

Hands slightly shaking, Victor placed them on the knot at her throat. With deft fingers he untied the string. Opening the cloak exposing her chest. He inhaled sharply.
Blue sure knows how to get a man's attention.
Her outfit was more fire to the flames already burning inside his veins. The cloak dropped to the floor, and still Nerina didn't look up. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she waited. Victor could only stare. She wore an ivory corset with a bunched skirt. The pearls that were wrapped around her neck that he thought was a choker, wasn't. It was a long string wrapped continuously around the delicate column of her throat. Victor stepped closer, a hairsbreadth separating them now as he took in her scent. Her human scent. The others watching were growling now. A low hum of vibrations he could feel beneath his feet. No one said a word. They knew who she was. The entire population from Alaska to Canada knew about this one human who could be the end of Victor. They saw her as a threat. Yet no one made a move to try and stop what was going to happen next. One of his hands went to her throat, caressing her skin beneath the pearls laying delicately along her neck. She was not bound tightly at all. Not yet. Right now she was a gift. Hand selected and wrapped for his pleasure. Her breath stalled at the touch of his fingers as he began to unwind the pearls. He could have asked her to bend her head further so that he'd have better access. But he wanted to make the journey around her body. He wanted to enjoy the view as he walked a tight circle around her. Her appearance made his body hum with a powerful need that threatened to destroy everything he knew to be tradition. Never in their Packs history had the first son claimed a human for his own. Never had a warrior attached himself to a human via an Eros connection either. Sasha's hate travelled the length of his spine. Victor couldn't bring himself to care. Nerina Simpson was made for him. In all ways. She would be his salvation, his closest confidant. Even if he didn't know how, he was going to bring that to fruition. It would be done. Obviously Blue knew his intentions or why else let him claim her here, now, in front of those who would go back and report what they witnessed. It wasn't a Reaping ritual, but a claiming was just as important. This only gave her second mate status. It was probable she'd have to fight Sasha for first mate privileges.

Clearing his head of all the reasons why he shouldn't claim the woman in front of him, Victor filled his mind with images of her bound. Images of her looking up at him with nothing but adoration and respect, and one-day love. Those were the things that propelled him forward with the claiming. Not the consequences of his actions, but all of the rewards.

 



“Neri, look at me.” Victors voice washed over Nerina. Half of her was angry as hell that he would even walk up on the stage, and the other half was relieved. Blue had been very clear about what the cloak would and would not do. It was there to mask her scent from the males in the club until the unveiling. Something only done for what he deemed virgin skin. He said it would create an atmosphere that would not only ratchet up their energy, but also bring out a feral side to them that would be to her advantage. She didn't believe it for one second. These were werewolves. Guided by instincts, smells, and body language. How could any of that be to her advantage?

Blue explained that scent played a very important role in their lives. Locating prey, other Pack members, smelling fears, anxiety and arousal. Once the cloak was removed one of two things could happen, she'd either be claimed, which he promised would not happen. Or she'd earn a few admirers that would be hers for the evening. Neither option sounded like a good idea to her. But Blue had assured her that if she didn't want their attentions they would defer to him. That had all gone to shit the moment he'd offered her up to Victor. The other thing the cloak did was lull her into obedience. While wearing it, she would do whatever she was commanded to do. Something else Blue assured her she wouldn't have to worry about. This all was supposed to be a new experience for her. Test her limits just enough to give her a taste. Now she was at the mercy of Victor.

That isn't such a bad thing.
Oh but it was. His fiancé was there glaring down at her. Once the cloak was removed she was free to stay or leave the scene.

Leaving the scene seemed like the best course of action, until Victor caressed the tips of his fingers against her overheated skin. The pearls a constant weight as she waited, head bowed. When he walked around her, unwinding the pearls layer by layer, she couldn't help but catch her breath. She was overcome with so much emotion, she feared she'd pass out from the strength of it. Their eyes had connected briefly before she cast them back to the floor. But rules were rules. She was to keep them downcast until he told her otherwise. Being obedient was not her strong suit, but she found that with Victor it was easy.

Slowly, Nerina lifted her eyes. She didn't know what she was going to see when she looked up at Victor. She wasn't expecting to see some internal struggle. His eyes searched hers with a serious of questions and statements that neither of them voiced out loud. He wondered if she could handle the scene, she challenged herself to remain steady, and of course Victor dared her to try. Clearly they were both having an issue with her being here in the middle of the club for all to see. Blue had the rigging machine set up along with bundles of brand new red nylon rope. Three bundles in all. She knew what he was going to use them for. She'd felt safe in Blue's capable hands. With Victor she was unsure. There were too many emotions as well as words that had been left unsaid the last time they'd talked. She knew he couldn't make her any promises. She also knew she was in no shape to make promises to him either. But this moment felt defining. Like they were putting something into motion that couldn't be undone.
That
scared the shit out of her.

Warm fingers brushed the apples of her cheeks. The pearls still dangling from his hands as Victor delicately cupped her face. His eyes were searching hers, some question he was silently asking, and she was too afraid to answer. If the words were spoken out loud it would shatter what little privacy they had.

“We will take this slow,” he said against the corner of her mouth as he brought her head forward to meet his.

Etiquette said she wasn't to speak unless asked a question. Deep down she didn't want to disappoint him. She wanted to make him happy. Wanted him to be proud of her. Nerina wanted to show him that with her, he could have it all. She was willing to offer him that and maybe a little bit more if only she knew it would last.

But it wouldn't.

This was a simple demonstration to wet her toes, possibly submerge her legs calf-deep into the waters of a place she never saw herself going.

“Hold out your hands.”

Nerina obediently held her hands out in front of her, palms up where Victor placed the long string of pearls.

“Thank you, Neri.”

His arms circled her back, bringing her forward, just enough so that he could reach the hooks of her skirt that connected to her corset. He was going to unhook her. Lay her bare for all to see. Nerina's body froze as the severity of what was going to happen assailed her. Could she stand in front of this crowd naked? She knew this was a possibility, but her first thought had been that it would be a show for Victor. He was to be her focal point in this scene. She'd imagined him watching her, lusting only for her. It had given her a deep satisfaction that he could watch, but couldn't touch.

“I will take care of you. Trust me to do what's best.”

There was truth in his words, and her body relaxed into his hold as he released the hooks from her corset. Her skirt slid down her legs to rest on the floor around her feet. The cool air from the club kissed her exposed skin. She wore white silk thigh highs with whites bows at the top. Her silk thong now damp with her arousal added to the sensations coursing through her body. Her flesh was aware of every single feeling that bombarded her skin letting her know the layout of her surroundings. The beat of the music was filled with a sultry bass that kept time with the beat of heart. All had been quite before, now the music infiltrated her body. She could feel the in her thighs. She could hear the other men and women in the room breathing, but what she zeroed in on was Victor. His body was rigid. The artery at his neck bulged and his nostrils flared as he took in a deep breath.

“Sit in the chair Neri, legs braced apart, resting against the legs of the chair. Keep your hands in front of you until I tell you otherwise.”

Again she moved to obey his directive. The chair was a deep red traditional upholstered Victorian with grandfather arms. Every step she took was a choice, her choice. She didn't have to sit in the chair. She could have given Victor the safe word,
red.
Only the virgins used this as their safe word. The color itself having a double meaning. The red signified birth, because their pups came into the world covered in blood, and it also meant an end. A permanent end, whether it was death, or the scene. If she used it now it would be the end of her and Victor. Whatever it was that they had would be permanently severed. There was no grey area here. Only black and white, right and wrong. There was no middle road to travel with his kind.

The chair creaked slightly under her weight as she sat, legs braced and arms stretched out in front, the pearls resting heavily against her legs. Victor walked to the back of the chair placing a hand on her shoulder where he lightly squeezed. That was her only sign that he approved of her actions. He leaned forward, taking the strand of pearls from her hand. The smooth crackling sound they made as they slid from her hands and into his made her tremble. He dangled them in front of her face for a moment. Letting her watch as they swung in front of her face. She followed them with her eyes, mesmerized by the shape. Each one different from the other, no two pearls exactly alike. Some round, others more smooth, a few rigid with age and worn in certain places. Victor's hot breath whispered along the back of her neck along with something silky. She knew what it was, had been told it would be used to heighten the experience. He was going to blind her. She wasn't scared of the darkness, but she was leery about what was going to happen next. Her nerves edgy, and if her heart beat any faster, she'd pass out.

“Calm yourself. I want you focused on me. Listen to my voice, hear my heartbeat, match my breathing.”

As her eyes were covered by white silk, she calmed her breathing to match his. Slow, deep breaths. In and out, until finally she felt calm. She could still hear the others around her. But Victor was the center of her attention. Her body was now taking cues from him. Vision gone, she focused on what she could hear. She could hear the grinding of his teeth. The tightening of his knuckles as one hand gripped the back of her chair. Nerina felt the weight of the pearls as they were draped across her shoulder. She felt the heat of his hand as he began to caress the nape of her neck, down to her shoulders. A gentle coercion that started from the root of her soul began making its way up her spine. It grew more and more intense, and as it changed from an almost forced compliance to a determined acceptance it settled over her body where it rested calmly against her heart. Her skin was flushed. She could feel the heat as if the temperature in the club had gone up twenty degrees.