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Authors: Destiny Blaine

BOOK: Condemned and Chosen
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Going to her then, he didn’t pay attention to the scents filling his head with all sorts of crazy notions. He couldn’t focus on the strong vanilla aroma that he knew was a combination of Romy’s pureness and Molly’s expensive perfume. He couldn’t think of where her lips had been, where her fingers might have wandered.

His mate had been touched. She’d been violated whether she realized it or not.

“Did she hurt you?” He wasn’t sure he could handle the truth. He swallowed. “Did you put yourself at risk for me?”

“No.”

“What happened?” He deliberately led her to a spanking bench, certain he would see her bound and restrained there, regardless of her answer.

“Laurel was going to kill her.”

“So what…you fucked her as sort of a pre-killing erotic festival?” Laurel was going to kill Molly and didn’t? Now, thanks to Laurel, his mate had blood on her hands. Even worse, his mate had the stench of sex on her flesh. Laurel had been too weak to save his mate. Too weak?

No. He’d never believe that. Laurel had let Romy Nichole sacrifice herself because she’d indulged in the acts unfolding before her. “Did Laurel watch?”

“I…”

“Did. She. Watch?”

Romy pulled free of his grip. She glared at him as if she wanted him to know she was far angrier with him than he could possibly be with her. “I don’t know if she watched, but I doubt it.

If you want to blame what happened here on someone, then you blame yourself. You’re the one who left me behind. You’re the one who didn’t want me to ride. So while you’re shaking that condescending proverbial finger at someone, do me a damned favor and crook it back at yourself.” She paused, took a deep breath and continued, “Because you’re as much to blame for leaving me behind as I am to blame for spreading my legs and wanting to feel a tongue fluttering inside me!”

A subtle groan fell from his lips. He grabbed hold of her then, tempted to kiss her, desperate to taste some of that rage for himself. Instead, he latched onto her high lace collar and with one sudden jerk, stripped her dress from her body and was nearly awestruck for the first time in his thirty-two years.

“You’re fucking insane.” She shivered, but she didn’t try to hide from him. Instead, she held her shoulders back, her head high.

“Not yet, but I have a strange feeling you’re about to drive me out of my blasted damned mind.”

 

Chapter Ten

 

Romy had always suspected it would be like this with her mate. Maybe she hadn’t known what he’d look like or who he’d be, but from the moment Laurel and Brittany had begun to school her on the possibilities of mating with one of the guys, she’d known her chosen one would be hot as hell and equally attracted to her.

It hadn’t helped that she’d spent her days down here in the cellar. She’d imagined herself in every possible scenario, in most every possible position.

With one exception—this one.

She muttered against the latex ball gag and looked up at Chuck. She wasn’t sure what she’d said or done to anger him, but she’d undoubtedly done a splendid job of pissing him off.

“What’s that?” He cocked his head and bent his ear. “I can’t hear you.”

She tried to scream, but given the contraption, the effort was pointless. She closed her eyes and left them closed even when he demanded she open them.

When all efforts failed, he unhooked the headgear and gently pulled free the ball and bit.

“Want to tell me what’s on your mind. Do you?”

“You didn’t give me a safe word.”

“Considering it’s very difficult to use one of those at the moment, I had planned to give you a hand signal.”

“I still want a safe word.” She was standing her ground there. “Dominant men understand the importance of a safe word.”

“Yes, they do and submissive women understand the importance of being respectful of their Doms and their dominant partner’s wishes.”

“It’s dickhead.” She smiled and waited. When he didn’t push the ball gag back in her mouth, she did it for him and smirked at him in a ‘take-that’ fashion.

As soon as he snapped out of his shocked state, Chuck affixed the bit to the headgear used to hold the ball in place. He then whispered at her ear, “Dickhead works for me, darlin’ because I have every confidence in the world that you’ll never want or need to use it.”

He reconnected with the flogger he’d flipped around like a constant reminder. Brushing the flaps over her hips, he dragged the firm bulb-shapes down her buttocks and thighs. When he reached her calves, he smacked the back of her legs and seemed to take pleasure in the way she whimpered.

She tried to convince herself it was the shock of the snap against her skin, but somewhere deep inside her, she was certain—this training session was definitely about punishment. The knowledge made her pussy clench with awareness.

Without a doubt, Chuck wanted her to know he would take extreme measures, calculated steps to insure she wouldn’t stray. Another thwack came down on her legs. This time, the smack was higher, right under the curve of her bottom.

Another hard swat landed at her lower cheeks. Then, he patted her, caressed her tenderly until she not only sighed in relief, but also relished in the attention.

His tender loving care made her channel hot and wet. She wanted to know the feel of his strong fingers impaling her, stroking her, but she had a feeling the punishment ahead wouldn’t end with a few slaps to her bottom.

Oh no, Chuck had a reputation with the ladies. And she wasn’t just any lady. She was his fated lover.

He would expect more from his partner. He would demand more from his woman. Chuck Hayes, one of the club’s most powerful and dominant men, would require much more from his submissive mate.

 

Chapter Eleven

 

“Even virgins have their limits.” Her words tumbled from parched lips as soon as he removed the ball gag.

“Do they?” He offered her a drink of water and what he hoped was a warm, rather than a sadistic-looking, smile.

“How long do you think I can keep this up?”

“Until you use your safe word.”

“Consider it used. I can’t stand another flogging. My ass will be blood red.”

“And I’m the only one who will see that pretty little ass.” He was as hard as a rocket just thinking about said ass. He walked his fingers down her back and patted her bottom. That only made his male situation more uncomfortable.

He pulled up a chair and sat down in front of her.

“You’re not going to release me?”

“I like that position.”

She lifted her chest away from the bench and gave him a glimpse of those voluptuous breasts. So maybe this wasn’t his all-time favorite position. He glanced at her ass once more.

Then again, there was a lot to be said for a woman with an apple-shaped bottom.

His cock danced in his breeches again.

He knew how to change things up. Even though he wasn’t sure what kind of response he’d get, there were a few things he had to ask, a few questions he wanted answered. “What happened with Molly?”

“That bothers you, doesn’t it?”

“Damn right.”

“Why?”

Address me as Sir.” He rose from his seat and studied the rack on the wall. A long, wooden paddle called out to him like a lover’s song.

“She didn’t breach….” She cleared her throat. “Molly didn’t thrust her fingers inside me.

It was almost like she –”

“Was teasing you?”

“Yes.”

“Make no mistake. Given the chance, she would’ve thrust deep enough if she’d had to use a strap-on to make the difference.”

“I don’t understand why my virginity status is so important to you.”

“You’re my mate.”

“Well surely to God some of you people have taken non-virgins before.”

“Not as mates. Our ‘people’ as you say are prohibited. An old witch doctor placed a spell on the wolf shifters several generations ago. At that time, the shifters in the tribe had a rebellious nature, but they were still honorable. Most of the young men were committed warriors back then.” He took a deep breath. “The long and short of it is that a wagon train stopped near a village right outside their camp in the Northwest territory. The young warriors saw these beautiful fair-skinned women. They were dressed in nice clothes, smelled like fresh flowers, and had long legs just made for wrapping around a man’s waist. Anyway—”

“I get the picture.”

“Apparently not.” He selected his paddle. “There’s a reason I’m telling you the story and it goes way beyond telling you about the Sins of Wolves’ heritage.”

She eyed the paddle. “My ass is already sore.”

“Sir.” He slapped his hand with the slab of thick wood. “When we’re behind closed doors, you’ll always address me as Sir unless I tell you otherwise.”

“Yes, Sir.” She shot him a grin. “Is there any chance you can finish the history lesson a little later, say after you fuck me,
Sir
?”

He moved behind her and cradled his balls, wishing he wasn’t so fucking scared of mating for the first time. He slipped his hand over her bottom, rubbing the rough skin and wondering if one more lick would add too much pain or just enough pleasure.

“I want to do terrible things to you,” he admitted, stroking her globe.

“Please do them, Sir.”

He gripped the paddle with a firmer hold. Do them? How could he
do them
when she was so young, so innocent?

Chuck blew out a hard breath and delivered that first strike. She bucked under the weight of the fallen paddle and begged for another one as soon as the first wallop resounded. His cock twitched like crazy. He cleared his throat. “The story ends with the men cheating on their significant others. After the witch doctor discovered what they’d done as a group, she cast a spell on the tribe. Our ancestors would never bond with an
experienced
mate. They’d only find their true mates in the arms of an innocent.”

“An experienced mate?”

He struck again. “Yes.”

She begged still harder.

The spanking continued until he was certain his submissive woman wouldn’t walk for a week. Well, maybe she’d walk, but she would certainly think of him after every step. When he finished with her punishment, he grabbed a jar of soothing moisturizing cream and filled his palms with the lotion. As he rubbed her warm skin, he couldn’t help but smile at the old witch’s curse.

“Funny how curses can often bring about the best of blessings,” Romy whispered, practically reading his mind.

Noticing the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes, he leaned in and kissed her forehead. “You should’ve used your safe word.”

“No, Sir,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I took a life. I deserved punishment.”

“Don’t you go there, sub.” He knelt in front of her. “You saved at least two or three dozen more by putting to death the one person who had the power to destroy us.”

“She may have had the power, but it didn’t mean she was planning to use it. She might have been bluffing. Ya know? I never stopped to consider that she might have been bluffing.”

“She wasn’t.” He straightened his back and admired the beautiful woman who had definitely viewed her punishment as something more than he’d intended. He rose to his feet again and loosened the cuffs around her wrists. He helped her up and cradled her in his arms.

Then, he grabbed a handful of condoms and lubricants from the adult assortment drawer and carried her to the closest bed.

Lucky for him, Romy’s original room was straight down the hall

 

Chapter Twelve

 

Romy already felt a powerful connection, one she couldn’t explain. She’d been dying to make love to Chuck from the moment she’d discovered he belonged to her, but she acknowledged his hesitation and couldn’t help but wonder.

Did he view her as damaged goods? Did he think of her as tainted, soiled in some way?

As he lowered her to the bed, she longed to kiss him, yearned for that more intimate connection. Her head hit the pillow and he backed away. Before he was out of reach, she tugged at his sleeve. “Can you kiss me, Sir?”

A gentle smile shaped his lips and he leaned down and placed soft pecks upon her mouth.

Everywhere he kissed, he left behind a burning sensation, one that was torturous as much as it was sweet.

She let him have his way as he guided the kisses, the way he kept his distance but still managed to give her what she needed. Each one lasted a little longer, but he didn’t offer to deepen the kiss. He didn’t thrust his tongue between her lips and greedily consume her.

Instead, he made her want. He made her long for him in a way that was not only impossible to understand, but was also darn near petrifying. Once he really took hold of her, and showed her what he expected, taught her how to behave as his woman, she would never be the same again.

Chuck sat beside her on the bed. He placed his palm between her breasts and her breath caught in her lungs. Dark shadows encircled his eyes. He took her hand in his and guided her fingers to her cunt. Placing her hand on her prickly mound, he whispered. “I want you waxed, sub.”

“Now?”

He laughed and his laughter was more hypnotic than a blockbuster song. “No, not now, sub. Soon. I want Laurel to give you a Brazilian.”

She shuddered at the thought. Brittany had mentioned a Brazilian. Max had required it, and as best as she could tell, Brittany had been unimpressed with that decision.

“Move your fingers back and forth like this.” He held up his hand and wiggled his fingers, particularly the middle one.

She followed his request and wasn’t surprised when he gripped her wrist and shoved it to her pussy. “You want me to play with myself?”

“Yes,” he replied, pulling his shirt over his head.

She pushed her fingers between her pussy lips and twirled them right inside her channel.

Her breasts felt fuller. Her stomach muscles tightened.

Her gaze held at his hard body. Ripples of muscle lined his stomach. She longed to run her tongue over the defined shape of cut abs, hard flesh.

Soon, she paid closer attention to his fingers as he unsnapped his slacks and slowly unzipped. Her mouth watered as he lowered his pants and boxers. His balls scrunched in between his thighs as he lifted one leg and then the other and stepped away from his clothes.

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