Craving the Alpha: Part Five: BBW Paranormal Werewolf Shifter Romance (Lycan Lovers Book 5)
Authors: Kate Kent
Copyright © 2014 by Kate Kent
All Rights Reserved
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This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination, or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to organizations, actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.
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Published by: Lil Black Dress Press
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My head was fuzzy, but as I woke up I realized that McGreevy was standing over me. He had a lecherous look on his face as he stroked the bulge in his pants. Then, I remembered the shot Dorian had given me. It must have been some sort of drug to knock me out.
I struggled to look around. I was laying on a twin bed in my cotton bra and the pair of jeans I’d been wearing earlier. My tee was crumpled in a heap on the floor. Though I could see a sheet and blanket nearby, it was obvious they had either been removed, or I had kicked them off myself.
The room was simply furnished with two other beds, each with a side table, a six drawer metal cabinet on the side wall, and a few chairs. Aside from McGreevy’s fat ass, there was no one else in the room. Looking past him, I could see heavy bars inset on the sides of the door.
I felt my face grow hot as I thought of McGreevy standing over me earlier, when I was totally out of it and dreaming about sex with Markus. Had I been squirming around in front of him? I felt my body flush with embarrassment.
“You looked like you were having quite the dream there, Kristen,” McGreevy leered.
As fast as the shame washed over me, it dissipated. Sure, I was half naked in front of this clown, but it wasn’t my fault, I’d been drugged. Anger welled up inside me. The old perv!
“Give me my shirt!” I demanded.
“Ooh … bossy little thing, aren’t you—shame to cover up those sweet tits of yours. But if you are sure you want it, I’ll get it for you. You may want to wait till it’s washed first, since you spit up all over it when they brought you in here. Besides, I think you’ve got too many clothes on right now.”
McGreevy grinned down at me. What a sick fuck. “Where’s my duffle?” I asked.
“Get it yourself,” McGreevy said, pointing to a corner. “It’s over there.”
I gingerly stepped out of the bed and over to the duffle; ignoring McGreevy’s bug-eyed stare. The man was an asshole, and I was not going to let him mess with my mind. I already had a deep headache from whatever Dorian had injected into me.
As I pulled a clean top over my head, I heard a commotion in the room. Dorian entered, followed by two strapping men. McGreevy quickly let go of his crotch and pulled away to the side.
Dorian gave McGreevy a cold stare. “Why isn’t this cell door locked?”
“I … I was just helping her.”
“Helping her with what?” Dorian demanded to know, yet he brushed aside his own question as he continued. “This cell and all the others with prisoners need to be locked at all times, unless my father, one of my brothers or I ask for it to be opened. Am I clear on that?”
McGreevy mumbled something, his face flushed with color.
“Prisoner! Is that what I am?”
“Kristen, dear Kristen, this is just temporary. Just till you prove you will not try to run,” Dorian said, narrowing his eyes, “as you have in the past.”
“Where is Markus?” I demanded.
“Kristen, where are your manners?” Dorian asked. “You have only been here for 24 hours, all of which you have spent sleeping, and instead of greeting us you ask where Markus is?”
I shot Dorian my dirtiest look. The man just couldn’t be reasoned with.
“Kristen,” he waved his hands towards the two men behind him. “These are my half-brothers.”
I gazed at the two men with Dorian. They were massive in size, with thick, lush curls tumbling around their faces. Except for their hair color, it was almost like seeing double.
“They’re twins,” I said, surprised.
“Duh,” said Dorian. “That’s Kincaid,” he said, pointing to the man with pale blonde hair, “and that’s Troy with the carrot top.”
Troy, I knew that name! It was hard not to show my disgust as I looked at him. He and Dorian had the same lemon, yellow eyes, but where Dorian and Kincaid had light hair, Troy’s was almost an orangey red. He had a hefty, muscular body, and judging by several deep scars that were etched into his arms, he looked like he was no stranger to fighting. I knew he was pure evil. This was the man that had raped Susan Samford and left her for dead in the woods when she was too weak to keep up with the pack.
Before I had a chance to say anything, Troy reached over and tweaked my left breast, pulling his hand away as I tried to slap it.
“I see why you like her Dorian—nice full set of titties, pretty face, but boy, she’s a sassy one.” He licked his lips. “Are you sharing bro? You can have some of the one I got today?”
I gasped in shock. Was he saying what I thought he was? Was there was another captive like me in this place? “You’re disgusting,” I cried, “you are all disgusting!”
Kincaid spoke up, a frown on his face. “Troy, Dorian, go easy on her. She just got here.”
I shifted my gaze to Kincaid. Like his brothers he had to be evil too, but I had to admit, he was stunning. A monster of a man, his mass of blonde curls tumbled to his shoulders, highlighting his crystal clear yellow eyes. His body, like Troy’s, was Viking in proportions with thick biceps, a massive chest, and heavy loins.
“Troy and Kincaid are Quinn and Dalia’s sons. They have accepted me as a brother, just like Quinn has accepted me as a son,” Dorian smiled, gloating. “We are all in line to be the alpha of the Vlodiks.”
I thought about what Dorian just said. It seemed very strange to me that Quinn, who was as likely as vile, if not worse, than his sons, would fully accept him. Dorian was Dalia and Caleb’s son. I could not imagine that Quinn would treat him equally to the sons that came from his own sperm. Though of course a stepson deserves equal treatment, somehow I just could not believe that Quinn was the type who would see someone that was not of his own flesh and blood as being as good as someone who was. I suspected that Quinn was out for blood against the Lycan clan and was using Dorian to help mastermind whatever evil plan he had concocted. Dorian obviously didn’t even realize it. But, I couldn’t focus on that, I had to know where Markus was.
“Where is Markus?” I asked again.
“That’s really none of your business, Kristen.”
I could hear Troy snicker.
“Tell the girl,” Kincaid spoke up. “Why keep upsetting her?”
I looked at Kincaid gratefully. Perhaps, all of the brothers were not as bad as I’d thought.
“She is more likely to cooperate if you are decent to her,” he added.
“She will cooperate anyway,” Dorian said. “I will see to that.”
Kincaid looked at me, ignoring Dorian. “Kristen, Markus is not here. Dorian dropped him off in the woods somewhere…”
Before he had a chance to finish his sentence, Dorian interrupted him. “Enough chatter. Kristen, I will show you my cabin—our cabin. You will be staying with me, of course. Later you will meet the rest of my family, my stepfather and mother, Quinn and Dalia and my half-sister Talika.”
McGreevy had been listening quietly to the conversation, but he finally spoke up. “Where are Susan and Zach, Dorian? You said you would bring them.”
“I know what I said,” Dorian retorted sharply. “But I changed my mind. The kid was in day care when we visited Susan’s house. All we saw of him was a photo on the fridge. And if we’d taken the mother, there would have been a lot of noise when she didn’t pick him up. That is not an aggravation I need right now.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. So, Susan and Zach were safe back at their house. But, my heart started racing again as I thought of Markus. Where was he?
“But you promised,” McGreevy whined. “You said you would bring them to me.”
“Shut the hell up!” Dorian shouted, his eyes flaring. “Get out of here or I may decide to turn into my wolf and rip you to shreds.”
McGreevy started to say something, but the look on Dorian’s face changed his mind. He spun on his heels and walked out, his face purple with rage and disappointment.
“Now,” said Dorian, turning his attention back towards me, “I want to show you around the area, and to our cabin. I think you will come to love it here.”
Suddenly, the pressure of everything came to a head. Though I had tried to stay calm, I just couldn’t hold back any longer. “No!” I screamed. “I need to know where Markus is. Is he alive?” I just couldn’t imagine they had killed him, but who knew what these evil men were capable of.
I pushed past Dorian and Kincaid and tried to make a run for the door. I don’t know how I thought I could get past three burly men, but somehow my body and heart had to try. But, I was easy pickings for the men. Troy grabbed me with one hand and held me closely as I struggled and screamed.
“Really, Dorian, you need to teach this bitch who’s the boss.”
“I think she needs to sleep some more,” Dorian said. “Maybe another restful night will calm her down.” He walked over to the metal cabinet and pulled a ring of keys out from his pocket. He unlocked one of the drawers and pulled out another large syringe.
“The last time you slept too long. I am just giving you half this time.” Dorian said as he eyed the needle. He pulled an alcohol swab out of the drawer, and in one quick motion, swiped it on my arm. I did not have time to protest before he stabbed the needle into my skin.
“Dorian, I, I…”
“It’s too late now, Kristen. Next time, maybe you won’t be so hasty to act like such a bitch.”
I started to say something, but there was nothing I could say. I was already injected. I sat down quietly on the edge of the bed and watched as Dorian shut the drawer he had taken the syringe from. He locked the drawer, and then double checked to make sure it was secured. One by one he checked the rest of the drawers also, pausing on the third drawer down.
“I will be going away for a few days with Troy. Kincaid, McGreevy and the others will be watching you. Play nice Kristen, or there will be more of these.” He held up the remainder of the shot and tossed it in the trash.
The injection was making me drowsy, and though I tried hard to stay awake, I could feel myself drifting. I heard noise as the men left the room, and I curled up on the bed, closing my eyes…
I am wearing a skimpy white tank top and form fitting jeans as I step out on the platform. Bright lights are focused on me, but it is very dark off stage and I can’t see who is in the audience. Sal from Slice of the Pie, shouts out to me from a corner of the stage. “Start dancing or you’re fired!” I can’t see him, but I can just imagine him drawing the edge of his hand along his throat like he was chopping a head off. “I’ll be at the bar,” he adds.” Do what you are supposed to do—dance and don’t forget to strip!”
Strip? Am I supposed to do a strip tease?
The music starts with a sexy song—not too fast, not too slow, a little raunchy. My body begins to sway to the beat. I am so self-conscious. Not only am I in the spotlight, but I am sure every part of my body is jiggling. I move a little faster and I try to focus on how I feel, not what I look like. Think about the music Kristen.
“Yeah, baby,” I hear a growly voice call out.
Markus! I am so relieved. It’s still embarrassing, but so much less, knowing he is the one watching. I continue to dance to the beat, awkwardly at first, but find my rhythm. Slowly, I pull my tank over my head, revealing my tiny red peek a boo bra. My creamy breasts are spilling over the cups and I bend forward to give him even more of a view. I swing my hair right and left, the long strands whipping through the air.
The music picks up and I am getting into it now. His oohs of appreciation encourage me to let myself go, and I do; dancing slowly and suggestively, teasing him with my dips and swirls. I feel my inhibitions drop as my excitement takes over.
I unbutton my jeans and pull them down an inch or so. I pull them back up and then down again, teasing him. Puckering my lips, I look in the direction his voice is coming from before letting them drop to the ground. I quickly step out of them, turning to show my backside, and squatting so he has a clear view of my juicy ass. I can feel myself dripping. Dancing for him is making me so wet. I roll my neck and swing my hair back and forth, squatting, thrusting…
I want to dance on his face. Dreamily, I slowly walk towards the sound of his voice. A small spotlight follows me as I go into the audience to Markus. Now I can see him. He is sitting bare chested in a comfy chair, a cocktail at his side.
“You gonna dance for me baby?” He reaches out to touch me.
I nod my head. “Yes, but no touching.” I whisper. “Just let me dance for you.”
Taking my fingers, I run them through his thick, dark hair, gazing into his eyes the whole time. Climbing on his lap facing him, I position my knees on the chair, holding the chair arms to steady myself. Then, I swing my hair lightly back and forth, arching my neck and keeping his eyes on mine. He is licking his lips, but I want him drooling. I flip over slowly, holding his gaze. Looking at him over my shoulder, I turn my back to him so my ass is fully in his face, and I start grinding a little. Then I arch my back and rub my butt along his pants, feeling his dick getting harder. His desire is palpable as I turn back to the front and sway, grinding and rubbing my body against his beefy loins and dick, and up to his chest. I feel his cock swelling and throbbing.
“Kristen,” a low moan escapes his lips. I know he is burning with desire, and I am about to drive him wilder. Slowly, I slide down my bra straps, first one, then the other. Then, I unclasp and remove my bra. My nipples are turgid with excitement. I reach over to his cocktail, pull out an ice cube, and run it along his chest. His nipples form small peaks and water from the ice drips down the front of his chest. Running my tongue along the water, I swirl the tip around each of his nipples, and then suck gently with my lips. Then, I take a sip of his cocktail and kiss him, a slow, deep kiss, transferring the warm liquid from my mouth to his.
“I can’t stand it any longer, Kristen. I have to have you.”
I look into his eyes and see his deep need—one that I can’t wait to satisfy.
“Take off your pants,” I demand. Markus removes his pants and sits down again. I gaze at his cock with longing. It is so long and thick, with a bulbous head. And his meaty balls—so delish. I just wanted to bury my face in his cock and balls and sniff and lick him over and over.
Standing, I slowly remove my panties, tossing them to the side. My pussy is dripping and I kneel in front of the chair and wrap my lips and tongue around his cock, licking up the sides and down. Rubbing his balls and tickling them with my tongue, I inhale his man scent deeply, relishing every whiff.
“God, baby that’s so good,” Markus groans as I continue to sniff, lick and eat him.
I am enjoying every morsel of Markus’s body when he stops me. “I can’t take anymore and I want you now.” He pulls my body up and positions me so I am facing him, my pussy straddling his cock. Then he lifts me slightly, and pushes his cock deep into my folds. He is filling me up with every inch of his enormous dick. It’s rock hard and my pussy takes it all in, enjoying every stroke as he pulls me towards him and away again, his powerful muscles lifting and releasing me as if I was as light as a feather.
The pleasure is intense. He is right on my G-spot and in seconds, my body erupts in orgasm. He comes right after, his cock gushing in spurts of milky, white sperm.
Suddenly, I hear loud clapping. Another spotlight turns on further out in the audience. I look in the direction of the claps. Dorian is sitting with Troy and Kincaid. They are watching intently with smug, lascivious expressions on their faces. My face flushes as I realize they have watched my strip tease and Markus and I making love, and my ears burn at their remarks.
“Mmm, now that was hot,” Troy says.
“It’s my turn now, Kristen.” Dorian adds in a voice ripe with anticipation.
“No, I get her next,” Troy snarls.
Kincaid is silent, looking at me thoughtfully, one hand rubbing his chin.
“We can share her; all for one and one for all,” Troy says. ”I’ll take her puss and boobies and you can have the rear and then we can switch,” he adds gleefully.
“Let’s let her decide,” Kincaid says. “Kristen, who’s it gonna be?”
I look down at Markus, Kincaid’s words echoing in my head. They were the same words Caleb spoke on the night before my first full moon, when I’d had to choose between Markus and Dorian, “Who’s it gonna be. Who’s it gonna be. Who’s it gonna be…”