The Alpha Dating Game: An Extremely Sensual BBW Shifter Romance (15 page)

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Authors: Dawn Steele

Tags: #alpha male, #college romance, #paranormal, #erotic romance, #shifter, #bbw, #billionaire romance, #new adult, #contemporary romance

BOOK: The Alpha Dating Game: An Extremely Sensual BBW Shifter Romance
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Oh yeah. His sap was rising just to think of her ripe breasts and tight ass. She was likely to have a tight pussy too. The thought of her tight pussy squeezing his hot tool was enough to make it engorged.

But thanks to the antics of the eldest Atreides heir, he was forced to play watchdog. Seriously, Kyle Atreides wasn’t going anywhere. The cell was made to withstand an earthquake. So what was the point of playing gaoler in the north tower?

Still, Jericho would be furious if he left his perch. Unless, of course . . . Jericho didn’t know he had left his perch. He could nip downstairs to the hall for a quickie with the Cajun babe and return with no one the wiser.

It was time for the evening meal and he needed to feed his sole prisoner. After that . . . hell, anything could happen.

He didn’t even like Kyle Atreides much anyway. He didn’t know Kyle, granted. Kyle was Alpha in training. He was from the first family. Royal blood, or as close to it as he could possibly be. Claude was from one of the lesser families – the sixth son of a sixth son, or something in that lineage. First families and sixth families didn’t mix. They didn’t even sit at the same table or live in the same section of the house.

Moreover, Kyle was one of those handsome, Ivy League boys who could walk on water and make the sun shine out of his arse. Claude hated guys like that. There were enough of them in college to make his life a living misery.

Now the tables had turned. Kyle Atreides was on the other side of the lockup, put in there by his own father.

How the mighty have fallen!

The meal for Kyle was prepared by the kitchen. Even though he was a prisoner, nothing but the best was given to him. Claude noted with disgust the roasted chicken drowning in brown sauce and the mashed potatoes with butter melting within. A whole chicken it was too. And some caramelized custard for dessert.

Well, his distant cousin wasn’t getting all of it.

Claude greedily finished off the custard and took a whole chicken wing out from the artfully arranged plate. Wiping his mouth, he then picked the tray up and carried it up the stairwell of the north tower, which was four stories high. You’d think the Atreides had enough money to put in an elevator, but noooo . . . they had to do it the old way.

There were five cells altogether in the north tower. Claude remembered the last prisoner they had in here. She was a female werefox who had the audacity to steal from one of the Atreides. She was caught and it was Claude’s responsibility to teach her a lesson.

Oh, he had great fun with her.

The werefolk had their own code of justice, and no one ever complained to the human police, so he was free to do whatever he liked with her. The only retaliation would come from her own kin, and no fox would ever mess with the Atreides clan of werebears, who were ancient, rich and powerful beyond reckoning.

Claude smiled as he navigated each stone step of the stairwell, the water in the cup on the tray splashing with every step he took. He remembered her tits, so white and milky in the moonlight, and her screams as he tortured her nipples with the iron clamps. And her pussy . . . so sweet and tight, and her asshole as well . . . so marvelously equipped to take so much more than his cock.

He reached the top of the stairwell. There was a steel gate fronting the entryway. Claude leaned towards a panel, and a scan took note of his retinal imprint. Modern technology in an ancient prison. There was a whirring sound, and the gate unlocked with a sharp click and slid open to admit him.

Claude stepped over the threshold and the gate shut behind him. No one could enter bar him.

Kyle was incarcerated in the fifth and final cell at the end. It was a pity Claude had not been given permission to torture him, because it would a pleasure. A very great pleasure. Kyle was naked, and he had juicy balls which were just waiting to be squeezed, and a very nice and firm cock that was just waiting to be twisted and pulled in any which way.

When Claude reached the cell, he immediately saw that Kyle Atreides was sprawled on the stone floor in a seemingly lifeless pose. He was lying to one side, and one arm was flung above his head. His cock and balls were limp.

“Get up,” Claude said harshly. “I’ve brought your dinner.”

And you’re making me miss a good buffet.

Kyle did not move. Claude knew the guy had been knocked out with a major dose of tranquilizer, but surely he had to be awake by now. But of course, Claude thought uneasily, tranquilizers always had their side effects. There was always the chance something could go terribly wrong.

Shit.

It wouldn’t do to have Kyle Atreides die on his watch.

Still, he had to be very cautious. There had been prisoners who attempted to escape this way – by playing possum. That was why the main door was locked at all times and maintained by retinal scan. There were no windows in the north tower. So if a prisoner tried to escape by overpowering his guard, he still could not exit the north tower.

Claude put down the tray and went back for his prod. It had the capacity to deliver an electrical shock which could knock out a rhinoceros. When he came back, Kyle was still lying in the same position, unmoving.

“Kyle?”

No answer.

Frowning, Claude palmed his handprint on the scanner beside the cell. The grate slid open. Holding the prod up like a weapon, he stepped cautiously in. In addition to the prod, he had a gun strapped to his torso. There was no quicker draw than Claude when it came to human weapons.

“Hey, get up.”

Claude nudged Kyle’s body with the prod. No response. Gingerly, he turned Kyle’s body over so that he would fall on his back. He was ready for any possible movements Kyle would make, such as springing up to attack him. Yes, and the prod would be ready to discharge a few hundred volts of electricity.

But Kyle was still lifeless. In fact, there was a little foam dribbling from the side of his mouth.

Now Claude was alarmed. Damn tranquilizers!

“Kyle?” He shook his kinsman. “Kyle, wake up!”

Kyle’s mouth was slightly agape, and more foam issued from it.

“Oh shit.”

Claude put down the prod and felt for Kyle’s pulse at his neck. It was very faint. Kyle’s breathing was also very infrequent, in the fact his chest hardly rose and fell.

Claude wondered if he should administer CPR. He didn’t even know how to administer CPR. He was a jailer, not a paramedic. But Jericho would blame him if something happened to his precious son. Maybe he could try.

Claude didn’t have the first clue of how to do CPR, but he had seen people on TV do it, and so he bent down and prized Kyle’s jaw open with his fingers. Ah, he had to give Kyle the kiss of life. Uck! Claude didn’t take kindly to kissing males, but it still had to be done.

He placed his lips onto Kyle’s and blew hard.

Damn. How long did he have to do this?

He did it again, unsure if his breath was reaching Kyle’s lungs to expand them. Then he felt an awful pain in his tongue. Something had seized his tongue and bitten it.

Claude tried to scream, but the pain became excruciating. He was unable to tear away. Kyle’s blue eyes fluttered open, and there was purpose and determination in them.

“Arrrrrrr!” Claude cried from the bottom of his throat. A blinding pain crushed him, and he could suddenly away. Blood filled his mouth and he suddenly could not feel his tongue.

Kyle had bitten it off.

Before Claude could react, Kyle rose and caught hold of his neck. Claude felt the very air being choked out of him. His vision exploded in starbursts. He knew he had miscalculated, and badly.

The last thing he saw was Kyle’s fist coming down to knock the living daylights of him out.

ESCAPE

 

It was easy enough for Kyle to strip Claude of his clothes and shoes. Of course, there was the little problem of the retinal scan. It wasn’t easy for Kyle to lug Claude’s inert body up and hold his head up to the door scanner. Then of course, he had to prize Claude’s eye open. But Kyle – for his lean frame – was very strong, thanks to his werebear genes, and he was determined.

That was a very useful art he had learned from his father – the art of hibernation in his human form. It made him appear as if he was in a deep coma, but all the time, his mind was as alert as ever. He knew he could not simply ‘pretend’ to be asleep like so many prisoners did. Claude would cut him down with the merciless prod if he appeared so.

And so he found himself running down the north tower stairway as fast as he could. Claude’s shoes were not a perfect fit, and he almost stumbled a few times. But he had an inkling of where Jessica was.

Damn, it was already deep into the night. The revel had started. As with the previous year, it was a fancy dress ball, with the partiers arriving in gaudy and sexily designed garb – in the costumes of Western style courtesans and hookers and strippers and Arabian dancing girls. They were all laughing as the party went into full swing.

No one knew he was missing.

Yet.

The beat of the music filled the entire house. The bass drums vibrated the walls with their deep bass and caused the frames of paintings to shiver.

Kyle appropriated a mask left behind on a moon table. It was that of a lion and he quickly slipped it on. He half-wondered if it was the mask of an Elder. He had never seen an Elder’s true face at all, and it was a childhood horror story he used to tell his brother that “maybe they don’t even have faces, it’s all a big void behind the mask”.

All around him were sounds of lovemaking above the din of the music. His father and brother were nowhere to be seen. Kyle quickly slipped up the stairs of the main house and headed for the bedroom in which they usually hosted the ‘sacrifices’.

Naturally, it was the only locked door in the wing.

“Jessica?” he called in a low voice.

He hoped he wasn’t too late.

He heard footsteps padding towards the other side of the door.

“Kyle?” Jessica’s anxious voice.

“I’m going to get you out of here.”

There were two bolts outside the door and Kyle shot them both away from their sockets. The door was still locked, nevertheless.

“Oh, thank God!” Jessica cried. “I was thinking . . . uh . . . ”

She faltered.

Kyle knew how to jimmy a lock, but there was no time to find the appropriate tool. He knew what she was going to say. She was thinking that he was one of them too. And why not? In every year but this one, he had gone through the motions and sacrificed those virgins as though he had thrown them into the pit himself. His hands were just as bloodied as his father’s and the Elders’.

“Don’t worry, Jessica,” he said gently. “I’m not going to hurt you. I can’t say the same about my father and brother, though . . . but I want you to know I’m going to bring you away from here.”

He was going to have to use brute strength.

Kyle channeled all his bear strength into his right wrist. He had not completely mastered the art of using his werebear strength without transforming, but he was certainly better at it than his brother. Even Claude. He managed to break the lock in the door.

Jessica tumbled out, disheveled but looking none the worse for the wear. Kyle was so relieved that he immediately hugged her.

“Oh, Kyle.” Her voice, buried in his shoulder, was fraught with the same relief he felt. “I thought you were never going to come for me.”

He imbibed the scent of her hair. Her body warmth and solidity felt so good in his arms. He never wanted to let her go. To think that he had contemplated dropping this wonderful, vibrant woman who made him feel so alive into that dreaded abyss! Never again would he want that awful responsibility. Never again would he be coerced to do something his entire mind and soul told him was wrong. So he was not cut out to be Alpha. So he couldn’t kill someone he had come to deeply care for.

So be it.

He didn’t want to take his arms away from the comfort her very presence gave him, but he knew he had to.

“Come, we have to go. But quietly. It’s not safe for you,” he said.

“Were they going to kill me?” she said, her voice quavering.

He saw no reason to lie to her. “Yes.”

“I know. Kyle.” She caught hold of his forearm as he turned to go. “I know about you . . . I mean, I know Smith is not your real name. I know your name is Atreides, and – ” She blushed “ – I’ve been checking up on your family, and I know about Emily Watson, and the way she disappeared.”

Oh yes, he remembered Emily Watson too. Somehow, the news that Jessica knew his real name did not surprise him at all.
And yet she came along for the ride.

He said, “We have to go. We’ll talk later and I’ll tell you everything, OK?”

“OK.”

It was best he didn’t take her out the way he came. Too many eyes and too many people who would spot her because of her size. Luckily, he knew this house like the back of his palm. Knew it too well, in fact, and that was why he couldn’t bear living here a moment longer.

He said, “I know a secret way. Come with me.”

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