Wicked Magic (11 page)

“Get on the bed.” His words were a rough rasp she could
almost feel moving over her skin.

Focused on her, his gaze hot, he brought his fingers up and
sunk them into his mouth, tasting her.

Oh God. On shaky legs, she did as ordered. Trent reached
behind him and pulled off his shirt, exposing his muscular chest and washboard
abs.

Never breaking eye contact, she positioned herself in the
middle of the mattress and pressed her damp palms flat on the sheet. Endorphins
had her heart pounding.

One at a time, as if he had all the time and patience in the
world, he kicked off first one of his boots and then the other. His socks came
off next. He strode to her, his raw masculinity and the décor of his room
making her feel very feminine.

From his back pocket, he withdrew his shiny handcuffs. The
metal clicked as he opened first one cuff and then the other. Sam swore she
stopped breathing. She glanced from the restraints to his face. He wouldn’t
dare…

Trent fought the tightening in his balls at the naked lust
filling Sam’s eyes. Fuck, he was going to lose control if she kept looking at
him with that mixture of beguiling innocence and wanton sex goddess. The sight
of her, naked and aroused, on his bed was right. She belonged there.

He licked his lips, remembering the too-brief taste he’d had
of her on his fingers. He wanted more. The animal inside him demanded her
submission, the first step in claiming her.

“Hands up, over your head. Grab the headboard.”

His acute hearing picked up the hitch in her pulse. Her
heart thundered and her firm, high breasts rose and fell with each deep breath
she took.

Her voice wavered. “Trent…”

He pressed a knee to the bed, his weight dipping the
mattress. He trailed the cool metal cuffs up her stomach, between her breasts.
Goose bumps lined her skin. Desire pebbled her nipples into tight nubs he’d
soon have in his mouth.

Leaning over her, he looked straight into her eyes and laid
it out. “You touch me, kitten, I’m gonna lose all reason and fuck you within an
inch of your life. We have to wait until tomorrow, right?”

“We don’t—”

He pressed a finger to her lips and cut her off. The long
fifteen-minute drive to her house, when he’d thought she was in danger, had put
things into perspective. He’d almost died last night. And today she’d called
him in a blind panic. She’d never be so far away from him again.

“We do,” he said it and meant it. “I’m not making love to
you until your little ritual tomorrow. You’re mine and I’m going to start
proving it right now. I let you run away last night, won’t be making the same
mistake tonight. Hands on the headboard.”

She met the challenge in his eyes, lifted her chin in sexy
defiance and drew her hands up. Her breath hitched as he gently cuffed first
one wrist, then the other, locking her in place.

Her arousal spiked, giving off a sweet scent that had his
mouth watering. Despite her initial hesitance, their game was doing it for her
in a big way. That did it for him in an even bigger way.

“That’s a good girl.” He drew his finger between her
breasts, slowly down the center of her quivering stomach. She arched her back,
her legs falling apart to show him how wet she was.

Trent drew in a deep breath and wanted more. He wanted
everything. “You smell so good.”

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and clamped down,
an action that made him want to soothe the abused flesh with his tongue. He
teased lower, caressing the top of one silky thigh before circling back and
tracing a path up her knee.

“You have no idea how gorgeous you are. How hard you make
me, how badly I want inside you.”

She preened under his touch, her legs falling farther apart
in an invitation he wasn’t about to pass up. Jesus, she had a beautiful pussy.
Pink, shimmering with arousal, the lips swollen with desire.

He traced her sex, loving the way she jerked against the
cuffs. Metal clanked and she cursed under her breath. “Do you know how
delicious you smell?” He pressed one finger inside her pussy. Hot and tight,
her muscles gripped him. “How tight you are?”

Her head fell back and she moaned low in her throat, the
sound urging him on. In and out, he fingered her in a slow, measured tempo.

“More,” she said.

He added another finger, her hips jerking up to meet his
thrusts. He cupped her hip and held her against the bed. Bending, he scraped
his teeth down her neck. With small, teasing nips, he branded her flesh on a
deliberate path to her core. He curved his fingers, tapping her G-spot. Her
response was instant. She sobbed, head thrashing back and forth as she tugged against
her restraints.

“Please, Trent,” she begged.

Settling between her legs, he withdrew his fingers and
gripped her thighs, placing them over his shoulders. At the first swipe of his
tongue she came unglued, coming hard and long in his mouth as he sucked her
tight pearl into his mouth. Her scream turned raw when he continued to lick and
suckle the flesh of her sex. He didn’t stop, didn’t let her catch her breath.
He drank her in, his tongue delving deeper to get more. She was exquisite.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned.

Needing more, he flicked his tongue lower to press inside.
He thrust deep, coaxing more liquid arousal. Around his shoulders, her thighs
trembled. Muscles clenched and he knew she was close again. He pulled back,
replacing his tongue with his finger. Fuck she was tight.

Sam came up off the bed and the wood frame creaked when she
tugged harshly against her restraints. Curving his finger, he stroked the hard
knot of nerves inside. He continued to lick and suck her clit. He alternated
methods, sensing from her screams and moans where she liked to be touched,
where she liked to be nibbled.

He added a second finger, twisting inside her wetness each
time he thrust in. Everything in the world disappeared and he was only aware of
Sam. The way her back bowed, the way she chewed on her lower lip, making it
full and swollen. She panted, her breath harsh and quick as if she’d
hyperventilate if the pressure inside of her weren’t alleviated.

The third finger he added stretched her wide. His balls
tightened, clenching with the need for release. She was so damned tight it made
his head spin, made his cock even harder. An ache clenched his jaw as he
continued to work her into a frenzied mess, coaxing her body into another
orgasm.

Her back curved off the bed as she came hard, screaming his
name.

Glancing up, he watched how the pleasure affected her body.
Her mouth was parted. Her eyes closed. The tips of her tight little nipples
were hard and her chest was stained red with a sexy flush. The sight almost
made him come. He smoothed his hand against her leg, rubbing her quaking
muscles as he softly petted her folds with his tongue and brought her down. She
writhed and winced, attempting to pull away from the intensity. He held her
still.

“Concentrate on your breathing. You need to relax,” he cooed
against her sex, not quite sated.
One more.

“It’s too much,” she panted, her stomach glistening with
sweat.

He brought his head up from between her legs to meet her
eyes.

“Trust me.”

She nodded and let her head fall into the cushion of pillows.
This time he avoided her throbbing clit. Instead, he used his fingers to stroke
her. He kissed her thighs and hips as he thrust gently into her. From deep
inside he felt her submission, felt her very core open to him. Her breaths
became pants when he stroked that special spot deep inside of her.

“Open your eyes, Sam. I want to see you when you come around
my fingers.”

His pleasure meant nothing, not if it meant he could do this
to her over and over again. He wasn’t kidding—he could fuck her all night and
then some. Her eyes were wide, her mouth parted and tears stained her cheeks.
He brought her off tenderly this time.

Pleasure filled her eyes, and he drank in every detail when
it washed over her.

Slow at first, her breath hiccupped. She pulled tight, but
the cuffs were too much of a restriction for her to go anywhere. Moaning, she
threw her head back when she could no longer hold his gaze. He kept stroking
her until he felt the last spasms recede.

Withdrawing his fingers, he drew them into his mouth and
tasted the last of her pleasure. It was like honey. He wiped the moisture from
his mouth and chin with the back of his hand before crawling up her body.

She shivered, trembling under him as he trailed his finger
over a pebbled nipple. She was boneless and weak, her eyes closed and arms
strained above her. He grabbed the key from his jeans and released her
restraints. He kissed each wrist before using his thumbs to rub the muscles in
her shoulders and back.

Hands on either side of her face, he hovered over her and
trailed his nose against hers. A slow, satisfied smile lifted the corner of her
mouth.

“You doin’ all right?” he asked.

She didn’t open her eyes, instead muttered something that
sounded like, “You did dirty, wicked things to my honeypot.”

Honeypot? His laugh was a low, rolling sound that lifted the
other side of her mouth into a full smile. The blissful, contented look on her
face—one he’d put there—did funny things to his heart. He loved her.

Unable to resist, he kissed her upturned lips. “That I did.”

He got no resistance when he scooted in behind and pulled
her back to his front. His cock throbbed against her naked ass as if his penis
knew denim was the only thing separating it from its goal. He stroked his hand
up her stomach, between her breasts. He kissed the nape of her neck and pulled
her close, snuggling in. He rubbed his jaw against her shoulder, liking the
rasping noise in the quiet.

“What are you doing?” She tried to turn in his embrace but
he held her still.

“Cuddling.” Something he’d never tried before, but found
wasn’t half bad. She was warm and soft in his arms. Her heart beat in a steady
rhythm that soothed the feline inside.

The moment shattered at the shrill, piercing ring of his
phone. He dug into his pocket and swiped the screen using one hand.

“What?” he asked and wiggled Sam a little closer.

“We got problems, need you here at the station.” The chief
of police’s gruff tone got his attention.

Trent let go of Sam and sat up. He was already swinging his
legs over the side of the bed and retrieving his shirt before he asked, “What
kind of problems?”

“Dead girl you brought in last night, she’s the mayor’s
niece. He’s in a tizzy and about to hunt down all the registered shifters in
the county to get retribution. Get your ass here and deal with him.”

“Be there in thirty, stall him.” The line went dead and he
closed his phone before shoving it into his front pocket.

He pulled his shirt over his head and turned to the bed. Sam
was sitting up, a sheet pulled up over her breasts. Now that was a damn shame.

“You’re leaving?” she asked.

He strode the distance between them, cupped the back of her
neck and pulled her in for a quick, hard kiss. It wasn’t nearly enough but it
would have to do until he could get back. His chest got tight. Leaving her
didn’t feel right. Duty dictated he leave, love demanded he stay and watch
after her.

“Were you supposed to work tonight?”

She shook her head. “Bar’s closed for the next two
nights—too risky with the moon and the holiday.”

He stepped back before he lost his self-control and pulled
the sheet from her hand. “Good. Stay here. I’ll get a hold of Jeremiah so you
aren’t alone.”

Her chin lifted in stubborn defiance. Jesus, she was the
sexiest woman he’d ever met.

“I don’t need a babysitter.” A red flush colored her cheeks
and she lifted a hand to sweep her bangs off to the side. “I’ll be fine here by
myself for a few hours. I promise not to rifle through your drawers. Or
closet.”

He smirked. “Rifle away. I don’t have any secrets and my
porn collection is relatively small. Make yourself at home, get something to
eat. Take a shower if you want. The mayor is a pain in my ass. If this goes the
way I think it’s going to, I’ll be tied up all night.”

“I’ll be here when you get back.”

His chest went tight. Fuck it. He grabbed her ponytail and
drew her head up until her lips met his. He stroked his tongue into her mouth,
his gut tightening with lust at the first wet slide. She moaned, let go of her
sheet and buried her hands in his hair. Nails scratched against his scalp and
sent tremors of pleasure racing down his spine.

That was why he’d cuffed her. He captured her wrists and
drew her hands away from him. Pinning her hands behind her back, he pulled from
the kiss to nip at the bow of her upper lip.

“You touch me and I lose all reason.”

She nodded and pulled away. Her gaze met his. “I’m not
waiting up for you.”

He grinned and pocketed the key. “Didn’t ask you to. You’ll
get the idea I’m home when you wake up with my fingers in your pussy and my
mouth on your clit.”

Heat darkened her eyes. “You’re an ass.”

His smile spread even wider. “Love you too, babe. Sleep
tight,” he said as he strode for the door with an extra bounce in his step. In
less than twenty-four hours, he’d really make her his.

Sam woke to the featherlight caress of something trailing up
her thigh. Warmth tingled across her skin and she moaned at the soft sensation.

Trent.

She’d eaten, taken a shower, looked through his closet and
found no secrets except he had a serious lack of dress clothes. After watching
TV for a few hours, she’d crawled into his bed and fallen asleep surrounded by
his scent.

“Umm…I missed you. What took you so long?” she murmured, her
voice husky with sleep.

She opened her lids and sucked in a breath. Menacing green
eyes stared back at her. Holy shit, not Trent. Dean gave her a cruel smile full
with the promise of pain.

“Happy birthday, Sam.”

Her scream was as automatic as breath. She scrambled back on
the bed only to have a hard, hot hand clamp down over her mouth, cutting off
the majority of her air supply. Dean moved on top of her, pinning her to the
bed.

His weight anchored her to the mattress, made it hard to
breathe through the mounting panic. With her mouth covered, she drew in sharp,
quick breaths through her nose. The scents of sex, leather, blood and liquor
poured off him and made her sick to her stomach.

“Be a good girl,” he purred and pulled out a long, sharp
knife from the back of his pants.

He twisted the blade back and forth in front of her face as
if making sure she saw it. How could she miss the jagged, wicked-looking
serrated teeth? Stars danced in front of her eyes from lack of oxygen and she
stopped struggling against him. He moved his hand, uncovering her mouth.

She sucked in a breath that tasted foul, like the hand he’d
held over her mouth. He pressed the blade against her throat. Every time she
swallowed, the edge dug into flesh.

“You’re not going to scream again, are you? Not that there
is anyone around to hear you, sweet setup your cock-sucker boyfriend has here.”

Shaking her head up and down, or moving it back and forth,
would have resulted in injury so she did nothing except stare up at him with
cold fear and mounting anger.

He ran his gaze down her naked body and the lust filling his
eyes had her skin breaking out in a cold sweat. She’d gone to bed naked,
anticipating Trent, not some crazed asshole.

“What do you want from me?” she asked.

“Aside from wishing you a very happy birthday…” He cupped
her breast, pinching the flesh and drawing a cry of pain from her lips.

The knife at her throat dug in as if daring her to move or
scream.

“You’ve got three seconds to get off me,” she hissed,
concentrating on anything other than the way it felt to have his slimy hands on
her. He’d switched to kneading the other breast.

“Or what?” He leaned forward and drew his tongue up the side
of her face, licking her from chin to the corner of her eye. “You haven’t
opened your present yet. Me and the boys played with her a bit beforehand, but she
didn’t mind.”

She? Oh God.
Brenda.

Sam shuddered and clenched her teeth. She searched for the
place inside of herself that housed her magic. Dean rubbed against her thigh,
his cock obscenely hard and filling her with horror. Would he try to rape her?
The ramifications sank in. If she wasn’t a virgin she would never be able to
access her powers, never be able to bond with Trent.

In the absence of magic, she drew on bullshit. “I’m a witch,
asshole. You don’t want to mess with me.”

Manic laughter bubbled from his slightly cracked lips and he
moved off her.

“Right. Nice try that. I know all about you and your little
ritual. Took awhile to work her over, but Brenda can be quite chatty after a
good long fuck.” He looked down the length of her body, pausing at the space
between her thighs. “I hear you’re a virgin. Your boy, he took out my pack,
killed my brother. So we’re going to take something away from him. We’ll bind
you to one of us, use your magic to draw him out. Then maybe we’ll make him
watch as we fuck you and slit your throat under the full moon.”

Cold dread paralyzed her. This was so much worse that she
could have ever imagined.

“That’s right, sweetheart. I know all about your Samhain
ritual, told my boys about it. We’re going to have some fun, make a game out of
it. We’ll fight to see who gets to fuck you first, then we’ll take turns.
Brenda will be there, she took on the pack like a pro, spreading her creamy
thighs and squealing the entire time. Fuck, gets me hard just thinking about
it.”

“Stop screwing around, Dean. She’s gotta stay a virgin until
sunset,” a man said from the doorway, authority rang clear in his voice.

Dressed in studded leather, like the guys from the bar the
other night, he looked into the room with a disapproving glare. Dean withered
under the stare and gave her a good idea of his pack status.

The man leaned his broad shoulder against the door jam and
crossed meaty arms over his chest. His black leather jacket creaked. “Got word
the boyfriend’s heading back this way. We gotta get things set up.”

Trent.

“I wasn’t gonna fuck her,” Dean said with a pout and moved
off the bed. “Just get a little taste of the goods. She smells sweet.”

The guy in the doorway passed his gaze over her and licked
his lips. “I’m Alpha now, anyone gets to sample the goods before the fight,
it’s going to be me.” He grabbed his crotch and pulled away from the wall. He
stepped into the room and unzipped his pants.

Vomit rose in her throat.

“Why don’t you get your sexy ass over here and give me a
taste? I bet you give great head.”

Sam scrambled back on the bed and looked wildly around the
room for anything she could use as a weapon. Her gaze landed on a set of keys
on the nightstand. She shot her arm out and swiped the metal before springing
out of bed. Dean caught her by the back of her neck before she even managed to
two steps.

He tightened his grip and threw her to the floor hard enough
for her head to hit the ground. Stars danced behind her lids.

“Stupid bitch,” he spat.

“Got to admire her spunk,” the alpha said and crouched in
front of her.

He gripped her chin and drew her face up so she had no
choice but to look at him. The more she struggled against his hold, the harder
he held her.

“Make no mistake, princess, you’ll be sucking my cock before
the end of the night. If you’re good, I’ll go easy on you when I fuck your ass.
Now get up before I lose my temper.”

Sam bit her lower lip to keep from screaming out what she
really felt. Maybe if she could stall, she could buy Trent time.

“Where’s Brenda?” she asked.

“The redheaded slut?”

She clenched her jaw.

A slow, creepy smile crossed over his face. “The pack needed
something to tide them over. We plan on leaving her here for your boyfriend, a
nice little preview of what we’re going to do to you. That cock-sucker needs a
lesson. No one fucks with the Rippers, especially not no pussy.”

Horror filled her at the thought of what Brenda must have
gone through. Why hadn’t she gone to her dad’s? The pack…as in multiple…

“Don’t look so stricken, beautiful.” He stroked the side of
her face. “She enjoyed it. My boys rode her rough and she screamed and begged
the entire time.”

She curled her fingers in a tight fist. At the moment, she’d
give anything to harness the ability to knock this asshole to the ground and
kick him in the balls. “No one enjoys being raped, you asshole.”

His hand was a blur. Pain exploded against her face and her
head was knocked to the side from the force of his blow. The taste of rusted
copper filled her mouth and she swallowed back her cry of pain.

He grabbed the pendant around her neck and twisted the chain
in his hand until the metal dug into the back of her neck. “Watch your mouth.”

She drew her head up and remained silent. Dean grabbed her
arm and lifted her to her feet. Her necklace snapped in the alpha’s hand and he
carelessly threw it to the ground. Dean captured her wrists and drew them
behind her before wrapping some kind of scratchy rope around them.

The alpha turned and left, the wolf insignia in the full
moon on the back of his jacket mocking her. Dean followed him and dragged her,
toes scraping the hard floor, with him.

“Don’t I get clothes?” she asked.

Dean laughed and nuzzled her neck. He slapped her ass, the
sharp sting sending bolts of fear down her legs. “For what, beautiful? I’m
enjoying the show.”

He led her through Trent’s house and outside. She blinked at
the sun, high in the sky and realized she’d slept the night and most of the day
away waiting for Trent. Where was he? She wished she had use of her hands to
shelter the bright rays. Two big men got out of a red pickup at the alpha’s
nod.

“Come on now, let my boys do their job. Don’t need you
distracting them.” To them, he said, “I want her in the bedroom, tied to the
bed. Do whatever you want with her before you slit her throat.”

Tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She sucked
in a breath and struggled against Dean’s hold. One of the men reached into the
truck, ready to carry out their orders.

“No!” she screamed.

Dean wrenched her arms up and pain shot through her
shoulders. He drew her forward and pressed his lips against her ear. “Settle
the fuck down or I’ll shove my knife up your twat.”

One step at a time, Dean dragged her along with him, her
feet scraping on the gravel drive. Sobs shook her body. Her screams echoed.
They veered from the gravel drive and tracked through the high grass in the
direction of the woods. How much had Brenda been forced to tell them? The
ground was cold and damp under her feet, making her calves ache. Her teeth
chattered and she did her best to keep herself in the now, not to picture what
had happened to Brenda. Not to imagine what her future held.

In the distance, at the edge of the tree line, spirits
floated above the ground, peeking in and around tall willowing trees. If only
they could save her. In a few hours when Samhain began, maybe they might be
able to.

The moment they crossed into the dense pocket of woods, the
grass gave way to prickling branches and dried leaves. In the distance, the
steady rushing of the stream that fed the lake surrounding Trent’s house drew
her attention. It was the same creek she and Brenda had grown up playing in
with ’Miah. She’d been twelve when Jeremiah had kissed her there on a dare
while Trent, much older, had taken his girlfriend back to the house to fool
around. It was the same place, at fifteen, that she’d broken her ankle chasing
’Miah. When she took a step toward it, Dean growled and kept her trudging
through the woods. Magic pulsed in the air, heavy and thick. Sam drew strength
from it, gathered as much as she could and prayed she’d make it through the
night.

* * * * *

Trent didn’t think his night, and the subsequent day, could
get any worse. His eyes stung from lack of sleep and his jaw ached from the
fist he’d taken to the face. By the time he’d gotten to the mayor’s last night,
word had spread like a wildfire. He’d not only had to deal with the man’s anger
and grief, but the outrage from the community.

Trent had let one of the assholes get away and was doing
shit to find him.

One crappy situation had blended into another as the hours
drifted and the sun rose, dawning a new day. In the end, he’d arrested four
shifters, broken up three brawls, found a lost puppy—not in his job
description—and babysat a weretiger who approached his first full moon.

All he’d wanted to do was get back to Sam. He’d called her a
few times and got no answer. Maybe she hadn’t packed her cell. Or maybe she was
doing whatever it was she needed to do to get ready for the ritual. So he’d
fought the burning need to see her the second he’d gotten into town and stopped
to get her some flowers.

He’d actually bought a woman flowers.

His SUV bumped over the gravel drive leading to his house
before he pulled to a stop and killed the engine. The sun was starting to set
behind the tree line and in its wake, red, streaking lines drifted across the
sky in an ominous warning. He grabbed the bouquet of wildflowers, his grip
slick with sweat, and stepped out onto the gravel.

The wind blew through the forest, bringing with it the gut-churning
scent of fear and blood. Wolf. The place reeked. He tracked his gaze from the
dark thicket of trees to the still waters of the lake before glancing at the
front of his house. The door was ajar. His skin went cold and a tight knot of
dread filled him.

The flowers he’d spent twenty minutes picking out fell from
his hand, crushed under his boots when he ran for his front door. His house, no
longer welcoming, reeked of blood, sex and wolf.

His chest went tight.

“Sam!” he bellowed.

He ran through the living room, hall, then hit his shoulder
on the door jam when he pushed into his room. He stopped in his tracks. It
wasn’t Sam. Rage and sorrow built in his gut until it exploded from his lungs
in a ragged feline roar. Fury had him pushing forward, walking over Sam’s
broken necklace and kneeling next to the bloodstained bed.

Brenda—naked, bruised and splattered in semen—was tied
spread-eagle to his bed. Blood from the wide-open wound at her neck had dried
to her skin. Her green eyes were open and sightless, her mouth slack. Written
on the wall in blood was a simple message.

You fucked with the wrong pack. Come get your girl.

“Jesus fuck.”

Police training was the only thing keeping him from touching
Brenda’s pale skin, the need inside to comfort her broken soul almost
unbearable. He backed out of the room, careful not to touch anything until he
found out how the sherriff wanted him to proceed.

Evidence was helpful for human criminals, but Trent’s nose
didn’t lie. He knew who’d done this and when he found them, he’d put a bullet
between their eyes no matter what the rules were. Technically if the assholes
were in human form, he’d have to take them in. With the full moon in a few
hours, he didn’t think he’d find them walking on two legs. Shifters were his
domain and he’d failed Brenda. He should have personally escorted her home.