Playing with Passion Theta Series Book 1 (33 page)

“Mack…”

“You need a lesson in
etiquette.” He squeezed one of her ass cheeks, pulling up her shirt
to brush the skin of her belly with his knuckles.
Mmmm
.

Ingrid grinned, biting her
lip to look naïve. “Why were
you
picked to deliver my punishment?” She stroked her
hand down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt from the bottom
up.

“Seeing you with Gene brings out my
inner Trogg—doesn’t matter that nothing happened between you.” He
lowered the zipper of her shorts, folding his fingers over the band
and slowly, so slowly pulling the shorts down her legs. “Your legs
are so fucking beautiful.” He kissed her thighs, licking and
nibbling, driving her crazy until the shorts were pooled at her
feet. He took hold of an ankle. “Lift.” She did as he asked,
repeating the motion a second time.

“This is punishment?” She couldn’t
suppress a giggle.

“Not yet.”

“You’re the king of
non-answers.”

“Do you remember my rules?”

“Yeah, yeah, but this is my room, big
guy, and I’m in charge here.” She lifted her bare foot and shoved
hard against his chest, making him sprawl back on the floor,
wide-eyed with shock at first, then laughing. She pounced,
straddling his hips. “How does Trogg feel about this?”

Mack cupped her breasts, his thumbs
brushing over her nipples, wetting her core. She leaned back,
resting her hands on his thighs. “Trogg likes very much,” he
teased, forcing his voice to sound more like a grunt.

“I think I like Trogg,” she sighed.
“He doesn’t have all those guilty hang ups.”

Mack grabbed her hair, pulling her
down for a kiss, rough and demanding, nipping at her lips to force
her mouth open, fucking her with his tongue the way he would with
his cock. Ingrid was in heaven.

He had her shirt off a minute later,
his mouth settling on her tit, sucking hard. Her hands wove through
his dark hair, making her own demands by holding his head in place.
She grunted with pleasure when she felt his teeth, the shock
soaking her vagina.

Mack flipped her onto her back,
forcing her legs apart, then grasping her panties and ripping them
in two. She was breathing hard, wanting him so badly she couldn’t
form the words.

“Your room, my rules.” His whisper
warmed her ear, heating up her core.

He kissed her again, invading her
mouth, claiming her with lips and tongue and teeth. She wiggled in
his grasp, wanting to move to the bed, but the weight of his body
held her in place.

Ingrid pulled away, trying to catch
her breath. “I want you.” She lifted her body to kiss his chest,
but his hand on her shoulder was firm, keeping her pressed into the
oriental style rug.

He trapped her chin between fingers
and thumb. “Tell me exactly how you feel about Gene.” The question,
posed at this particular time, startled her into meeting his gaze.
He’d left his shields down, a surprising act of trust, and Ingrid
saw into the heart of this gorgeous, dedicated, honest, lonely
male. “Trogg wants to fight him for you. Clubs at dawn.” He looked
like he was only half joking.

With other males, she
might have gotten snarky, telling them it wasn’t any of their
business, but Mack was
The
Guy
. From the first time they’d touched,
she’d known—and so had he, as much as they’d both tried to deny it.
She loved him, and he deserved to know the truth.

“I adore Gene. We’ll be close friends
for life. That’s it. And since I’m pretty sure I can reboot myself,
that means I’m free to choose who kisses me.” Ingrid kissed Mack’s
nose. “Touches me.” She moved his hand to her breast. “I can even
choose who I let inside my body.” A hard yank on his belt loop and
his obvious erection was much closer to her wet center.

“I’m the only one you’re ever going to
allow inside your body,” Mack growled.

She loved this possessive side, but
she couldn’t help teasing him. “What about the dentist? Or
the…”

Mack grinned, leaning his forehead
against hers. “You’re mine, beautiful girl. I’ll protect you and
love you with every breath in my body.”

Their next kiss was sweet, full of
hope and promise. “Distracting me again?”

“Worked the first time, didn’t it?”
Grinding his erection against her bare sex, he positioned both of
her hands over her head.

She was panting, so horny she thought
she’d explode. “Take of your jeans.”

“Later.” He was nuzzling her neck,
sending shockwaves directly to her sex.

“Bed, please.”

“Uh, uh. Punishment, remember? Leave
your hands where they are.” He slid down her body, kissing her
belly on the journey, spreading her thighs with his hands and his
elbows. His face was between her legs. the delicious assault
beginning in earnest.

Her core was throbbing almost
instantly, her body arching off the rug. “Oh…yes. Do that again…oh,
god, Mack…” He laughed, the rumble vibrating against her most
sensitive flesh. When he didn’t let up, she clutched at his hair,
his skillful tongue not allowing her a chance to catch her
breath.

After her second strong
orgasm, Ingrid had to beg Mack for mercy. Only then did he lift her
onto the bed, where he
punished
her with long hard strokes and a perfect friction
that had her coming once more, sobbing out her final release. He
kissed her when he came inside her heat, a kiss filled with the
promise of a future together. They’d opened their minds and hearts
at the end, looping to become one.

“Am I breathing?” she mumbled, only
finding the strength to open one eye. Her voice was a lazy slur,
one leg and one arm splayed across his body. “You are so
comfortable to lie on top of.”

He groaned beside her, lifting up on
one elbow. “Have you been properly punished?”

Oh, god that sexy grin. She wanted to
see it every hour of every day. “The gravity of my misdeeds cannot
be denied. I only request that the punishment be equally as harsh
if I should transgress again.”

He chuckled, the deep rumble of his
voice vibrating against her skin in a delicious way. “A second
offence will be dealt with more harshly.”

“I may not survive.” Ingrid rolled
over and stretched, forcing herself to get out of bed and stumble
to the shower. “I have to kick you out. I’ve got a party to
attend.”

Mack was by her side a minute later.
“Gene and I will keep you safe.”

“I know. I’m the luckiest female in
New York.”

Mack left so she could shower, a
decided smirk plastered on his face. After drying herself, she
found Diane standing in the open doorway leading to the
hallway.

Diane stared at the ripped panties on
the floor by the desk. “Mack or Gene?”

“Mack.”

“Nice.”

“Very.”

Ingrid fished clothes out of her
dresser and closet. “What happened to my lamp?” Diane asked. The
larger pieces, as well as the shade, were still lying on the floor
next to the fireplace.

“Oh, sorry. I threw a book at the
wall, only I hit the lamp by accident. I’ll get you another
one.”

“It was a gift from Dave.” She leaned
closer. “I never liked it, but I didn’t have the heart to tell
him.” They both laughed. “You’ve been a busy bee, haven’t you?” She
glanced toward the door to Gene’s room.

“They’re both worried about
me.”

Diane’s expression grew serious.
“Maybe you could give that wolf one of your amazing projections and
he'd think that he had the best sex ever? When I was linked to you
at the rehearsal, I really believed I’d been turned into a vampire.
It was so real that I was ready to take a bite out of someone and
drain them dry. What you do is incredible. Don’t let that asshole
Director make you feel like shit.”

Ingrid had gotten dressed while Diane
was talking, snatching up her comb, intending to work on her
stubborn tangles. Diane stepped over and took the comb from
Ingrid’s hand, motioning for her to sit, and then taking over the
job with a firm, practiced hand. Diane was one of those actors,
whose emotions swung from high to higher and then low to lower,
making it difficult to read her mood. Ingrid appreciated her
supportive words, but at the same time, she thought it was best to
keep quiet about what she, Gene and Mack were planning to do
tonight. If anyone in the troupe would rat them out, Ingrid’s money
was on Diane.

When Diane finished, she handed Ingrid
the comb. “Thanks for the help with my hair and also the support.
It means a lot to me.” She gave Diane a hug and they took the
stairs down to the kitchen together.

At the meeting, the mood was somber,
all of them looking to Mack for guidance. This particular party
with the wolves had a different vibe, putting everyone on guard.
Because The Director had given the top alpha permission to play-out
his fantasy with Ingrid, some of the other wolves might be feeling
they had the right to hurt Diane or Staci, or even Gene.

Mack told the group the truth about
how precarious the troupe’s situation had become, explaining how he
couldn’t stand by any longer and watch The Director pimp out his
friends.

“I’ve let you all down. I’m
sorry.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re the best
PM any troupe could have. You’ve done everything within your power
to protect us. We’re all grateful.” Staci wrapped her arms around
his waist to give him a supportive hug.

With Gene and Mack’s urging, the
troupe agreed to pack small bags with basic necessities to stash in
the anonymous van Alan had secured in case they had to flee. Mack
had purchased some property upstate under a pseudonym, so it was
decided that’s where the troupe would head if the night appeared as
if it was going to crash and burn. Diane and Dave were troubled,
but Mack assured them the likelihood of anything happening was very
slim. This was simply an emergency safeguard.

“Keep a close eye on Diane
and Dave
,” Mack sent the message to Gene,
although Ingrid heard it too. As of now, all mental messages went
out to the three of them, but they were hoping they’d soon get a
handle on how to focus their communications to include only two of
the three. Mental conference calls made it hard to
focus.

Back in her room, Ingrid hauled out
her carry-on, throwing in her H-tab, some items of clothing, her
extra cash, and a few pieces of jewelry that would be easy to pawn.
None of the troupe took these events lightly, especially being
forced to attend a party that The Director had made Mandatory with
a capital ‘M’. Werewolves were a violent species, and this group
was more violent than most. It was best to be prepared for the
worst.

CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO

“I wonder if Miss Hudson is thinking
about our night together?” Joseph was leaning against the wall,
staring out through the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked
Central Park.

The Director huffed, busily reviewing
figures and not bothering to look up. “I can guarantee it. I left
quite an impression on the little whore.”

“I intend to make it clear who’s in
charge, through any means necessary.”

“And who tortured you in the past,
Joseph? Your sire? Your grandsire? They were curs, if I
recall.”

“All died a painful death.” The alpha
allowed a little fang to show.

The Director chuckled. “Have you
always been a sadist?”

“Born and bred from a long line of
sadists. I could tell you stories…”

“I would rather you do not, thank
you.”

“Squeamish?”

The Director finally lifted his head.
The blatant challenge could not be ignored. “I would imagine that
cock you are so proud of would make a lovely wall ornament, once it
was tanned and stuffed.” The Director’s braid lengthened, whipping
around the alpha’s neck, dragging him closer, tightening
slowly.

“For…give me, sir.” Joseph’s face had
paled, his breathing growing erratic. When sweat broke out on the
wolf’s brow, The Director smiled. The dog should know
better.

Although Joseph was turning blue, The
Director added heat to the braid, reddening his victim’s skin. “You
are close to crossing a line I will never allow you to survive.” He
removed his braid from Joseph’s neck, automatically coiling the
long end around his own chest and allowing it to dissolve into his
body. He left the usual queue visible, the rest held in readiness
to become his weapon or his wings. Only his generals and his
siblings had ever seen the devastation his winged form could
achieve, but he was not yet ready to move on. This simple
civilization was safe for now, as the game was only at the half way
point.

“You will agree to my terms,
Joseph.”

The Director used his magic to light
the five fingers on his right hand, twisting it several times to
watch the flames dance to his tune. He extended it, waiting for the
alpha’s decision. Would the dog run with his tail between his legs,
or would he show himself to be the alpha he professes to
be?