Chapter 5

Scott - Chapter 5

Having Scott sit down on the bench behind her, she started unbuttoning his shirt. Her fingers felt like they were all thumbs, but she managed to get his shirt opened eventually, even if a few of his buttons were sacrificed. When he put his hands on her hips, she asked him, politely, to not touch her yet.

"I'm not trying to be bossy. I just don't want to be rushed. And when you're close to me, it's very difficult to think. You touching me sends me into another plane of need." He swallowed twice; she watched his Adam's apple bob up and down with it. But when he nodded, she continued with what she was doing. "My friend told me that it's not so much about pain as it is control. You control all movements of the play, and he thought that was the greatest part about it."

"That's right. Not just control of you, but everything about it. I don't keep you from coming at all, but controlling when you come and how you come will give you a release beyond anything you've ever experienced before." She told him she'd never come before. He grabbed her hands and looked at her. "I don't believe that."

"It's true. I've had sex, and while it was really good, it was never all that fulfilling for me. I don't blame the men. Mostly it was me. I think I went into having sex with them for all the wrong reasons." He asked her what they were as she pulled his shirt off his shoulders. "Relief, I guess, which was never there for me. Sometimes it was because I was lonely. Since my dad was murdered, I get that way a lot."

"I'm sorry. I'll make sure that you're never lonely again." She wasn't sure how he thought that was going to work. Sometimes even in a crowded room she was lonely, she told him. "I'm sorry love, I truly am. I don't want you to ever feel that way again. And while I know that you have no control over that feeling, if you tell me, I'll help you. Please, tell me what you're thinking."

"When my father was murdered all those years ago, I went into a deep hole. I wasn't sure if coming out of it was an option. Then the police seemed to drag their heels on finding the person. So I left that job and went to find me something where I could work on finding out not only who did it, but why as well. That's how I wound up at the computer store. I had a thought that George was somehow involved. But since then I've changed my mind. If he was the one that killed dad, then William helped him get away with it." He asked her what she'd done for a living before. Laughing, she told him. "I was a cop. And a damned good one too. Not like those guys at the station house now. My dad was one, and I saw no reason to stop—"

He grabbed her hand when she pulled his tee shirt up to his chest. "You were a cop? I mean, really a cop?"

"Yes. And so you know, I'm not sure how I feel about the look you're giving me right now." He nodded and grinned at her. "I don't know why, but that sort of scares me a little."

"Joe is looking for someone to take over the police commissioner job. Someone to go in and clean up the mess that we have there now. I don't know if you…why are you saying no already? You don't even know what I was going to say." She shook her head. "Also, there will be several jobs opening in the other departments when she's finished."

"I don't think so. I can't talk about it right now. Not yet. Maybe when I find the man responsible, but not right now." Standing behind him, she ran her fingers over his shoulders and down over his chest. "Close your eyes for me. I want to give you a massage."

What she wanted to do was think. About anything but being a cop again. As she dug her fingers into his tight muscles, she let her mind think of what she was doing and not what he'd said to her. His muscles began to loosen, but her own body was getting warmer, her need getting stronger. And when he put his hands on hers and pulled her around to face him, she could see his wolf there too.

"Lay down over this bench. My wolf, he needs his mate." Shaking her head, she started to back away. "He wants only to taste you, see if you taste as good as you smell. He wants to drink from you before I do."

"I thought…well, I guess you can guess what I thought. He's not going to have sex with me, is he? Ever?" He shook his head and smiled at her, and she felt it warm her from the inside out. "Scott, is this normal? I mean, that your wolf wants me?"

"Oh yes. Very much so. And while I have never done this to another woman before, I know that it's done between mates." When she was settled on the bench he'd been on, she felt ridiculous. First of all, she was spread out like a dinner party food item, and she was nearly naked. Then Scott pulled out a knife and ran it along her thigh. "These have to go, I think."

The cutting of her panties made her pussy soak. And when he put the blade up under her bra between her breasts, she was panting. Every part of her was ready. For what, she wasn't sure, but she was ready for it. When he cut through the material that held her breasts, she felt her nipples tighten more and her breasts swell.

When he got down on his knees beside her, she reached out to touch him. But he put her hands up over her head and wrapped them around the bar that was there. He never spoke. Chloe knew that her training had begun, and did as he instructed her to do without question.

"When I shift, it's going to be scary. I know you've seen my wolf before, but he'll be aggressive with you. As I want to be. Nod if you understand." She nodded, keeping her eyes on him. "With him, you may come as often as you wish. Don't touch either of us. Understand?" She nodded again. "When he's finished, I'm going to eat you. Fuck you with my fingers until you satisfy me. You are not to come until I say you can. Understand? You may ask questions now."

"What happens if I come?" He rolled her gently to her side and swatted her ass hard. It burned enough that she felt tears fill her eyes. Breathing in her nose and out through her mouth slowly, she knew better than to say a word. This was on his terms. And incredibly enough, she enjoyed that. When he asked her if she had any more questions, Chloe told him no.

The shift from man to wolf was beautiful. He was simply gone, and in his place was the biggest wolf she'd ever seen. Not that she'd seen all that many, but like before she was pretty sure that he was larger than normal. And when he nudged her legs apart, it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him no, that she'd changed her mind. Scott must have sensed her fear, and spoke to her in gentle but firm tones.

You have your safe word; use it now if you want. She shook her head. All right. Just remember, I won't hurt you without pleasure, and if you need me to stop, as soon as you say the word, it's over.

The wolf touched his nose to her hip, then her belly. It was cold, as she had expected, but his breath was warm, almost hot. He never rushed her, even though she could almost feel his need to lick her. And when she was ready, or as ready as she'd ever be, she opened her legs wider for him.

His tongue was rougher than she'd thought it would be. Not only that, but it was thick and long. She kept waiting for him to hurt her for some reason, and when she came, a climax that simply took her breath away in its beauty and release, it took her by complete surprise. Not just how hard she came, but how her body was ready for more.

Every time he touched her clit with his tongue, she tried her best not to scream. This was practice, she kept telling herself. When Scott took her she'd not be able to speak or scream. But the more aggressive the wolf got, and he did, the more her body demanded that she let out her release, not just with her body but verbally as well. And just when she thought she'd had enough, that she couldn't come again, Scott was standing over her. Naked.

He looked good enough to devour. Not just for him to come in her mouth, though she thought he'd be delicious, but she wanted to taste him, nibble at his flesh like his wolf had hers. She found herself tempted to touch him, just to see if the burn on her ass was as wonderful as she thought it was. At his order, she stood up. Swaying slightly, she nearly fell over when he bent her at the waist and slammed his cock deep into her pussy.

It was painfully wonderful. He filled her. His cock was thick, and she knew that she was going to be sore from the treatment. But Chloe also knew that the way he was taking her, the pain that was being assaulted on her flesh, was going to give her the greatest reward of all time. Holding on to the bar under her fingers as tightly as she could, she tried her best to think of anything other than coming.

Scott fucked her hard. And holding onto the bench again, she had to bite both her lips to keep from screaming. It was painful. But Christ, it was wonderful too. Reaching up to hold her nipple in her hand, she felt the burning sting of his hand again.

"Did I tell you that you could touch yourself?" She wanted to beg him to hurt her again, to slap her once more so she could come. "Answer me, slave."

"No." He asked her no what. It took her lust filled mind a minute to understand what he was asking her. "No, Master."

His cock continued to pound her. Chloe could almost feel it at the back of her throat, it was so deep inside of her. And when he pulled out slowly, his tip filling her entrance, she wanted to back up, take him deeper again, when his hand came down on her ass.

"Don't move." She couldn't if she wanted to. Her body was on the edge of a climax, and one move from either of them was going to send her over. "I love the way my hand shows up prettily on your ass. I can see each of my fingers where I've branded you."

He fucked her slowly now, his cock going in as deep as he could, then pulling out until just the crown of him was inside of her. He did this for hours, it seemed like. Her body was aching for some relief, any relief. When he curled his fingers into her hair and yanked her upright, she did scream at the pain.

Scott didn't move. His cock was still deep, his fingers wound tightly into her hair, and she heard him speaking, but didn't understand a word he was saying. Finally, when the pain of it started to subside, she nodded when he asked her if she was all right.

"What is it?" Tears filled her eyes and she knew that if she told him, he'd be pissed again. "Chloe, I didn't mean to hurt you, but I think it's more than that. I can smell blood."

"He hit me—George did—and I fell and hit my head. I didn't tell the police because…well, I was afraid actually. I've known for some time that his dad has been paying them off, and I didn't want to be arrested too." Scott held her as his fingers loosened from her hair. And when he lifted it up and licked along the wound she knew was there, Chloe moaned. "You're not supposed to be making me feel better."

"Hush. You belong to me now. And I'll do with you as I see fit." As his tongue made a path from her spine to her hairline, all she could think of was how his cock was still deep within her. "You taste of warm cognac to me. Dark and rich."

"Scott. Master? Please. You have to stop. I can't breathe." He laughed a little but didn't stop. His free hand was making its way down her belly to her pussy. "I can't hold on now. I've messed up my ability to concentrate."

"Good. I was beginning to think you were going to outdo me." She felt his fingers slide into her pussy, over her clit, until she wanted to scream for him to finish her. "Fucking you like this, I can feel your heat on my fingers. The way your pussy is tight around my cock. When you come for me, Chloe, are you going to hurt me? Will you strangle my cock while I empty inside of you?"

"Please?" He nipped at her ear lobe. Suckled it into his mouth. And when he pinched her clit, his thumb and finger painfully touching her, she screamed out her release as he bit down on her shoulder.

The pain of it was dimmed by the pleasure. And when she came a second then third time with him touching her, she knew he was doing this for her, only her. As he pushed her back to the bench, gently this time, touching her head to the bench, she said nothing, only offered herself to him as he had her.

Scott took her gently, bringing her several more times as he filled her again and again. When he leaned over her, his body pressing hers down more onto the bench, she offered her throat to him. The feeling of his tongue over her pulse made her shiver. The way his teeth grazed her skin had her moaning. And when he bit down, tearing into her tender flesh, Chloe screamed again, this time as the darkness took her.

~*~

George didn't know what to make of his dad today. He was mumbling about money and buildings, but he was also holding a gun while he did it. George figured he'd live a good deal longer if he just sat there with his mouth closed. He was getting pretty good at that too, keeping his mouth shut when he had nothing to offer. His mind drifted to the deal he'd made just that morning.

His dad was going to be dead within the week, and George thought it was the best news he'd heard in a very long time. He'd found it very easy to schedule his father's demise. At the beginning it had seemed far too easy, but then as he made his way through the questions that had been asked of him, he realized that it was going to be a bit more difficult than he'd first thought. First of all, his dad wasn't alone often. Rarely, as a matter of fact. And when he was, it was because he was locked up in a car with a driver, or in his offices like he was right now. His hired gun had leaned back in his seat and shook his head.

"You do know that in order to take him out, we're going to need him to be somewhere that we don't have to kill a dozen people to make it happen." He nodded at the man who had refused to tell him what his name was every time he'd asked him. "Do you think you could name at least one time when he doesn't have someone guarding him?"

"At home in bed. Sometimes he goes and sees this woman who fucks him. I don't know if you'd charge more to kill her as well, but I'd rather not have to pay out anything else." The man just cocked a brow at him. "He doesn't have much in the way of staff when he's at home. Usually this guy named Moody—he told me his name—anyway, Moody goes to the house on the estate before Dad does. He's responsible for securing the house."

He'd had to tell the man his code to get past the guard shack, as well as the one on the front door. It had taken nearly two hours for him to find the information that he wanted, and another hour before the guy called him back to tell him whether or not he'd kill his dad. Also, he wanted a deposit before he'd do a damned thing. That had been trickier. He'd had to take a lot of jewelry from his dad's house, stuff he was sure his dad didn't know George knew where it was to pawn to pay the man. Now here he sat with his dad again, listening to him go on about nothing.

"Are you even listening to me?" George tried to focus on his dad, but it was hard after hitting the coke like he had an hour ago. "Are you ever not stoned George? The reason that I ask is we have a problem on our hands, and you're the one that caused it by letting the only sales person we had working go. What the fuck were you thinking? Or were you? I told you, several times, that we had to stay in business or there would be hell to pay. What if they find out that you killed that cop? If I don't have that building, then that's a good possibility."

"I still don't think that I killed that cop, Dad." His dad only snorted at him and told him he had. George kept thinking about that night, and he was sure as he sat there that he'd not killed anyone. Not that night anyway. "What are you going to do about this woman? I tried to get her to take back her notice, to make her stay, but that guy came in and he took her away. Then I was arrested. That wasn't right, Dad. I didn't do anything wrong but to try and make her stay and work for us. Like you said, those other people haven't any idea how to do their job without her there holding their hands all the time. What if you paid her to come back?"

"The job was only a place where you could go every day and not bug the shit out of me. All you had to do was keep it going and making a little profit. And don't think I don't know where that money went, either. Up your fucking nose." Well, that hurt, George thought. "And if it fails, we're both going to be in deep shit. Deeper than you know. And that doesn't negate the fact that she's in with the Calhouns now. What do you suppose is going to happen when she tells them what a drug addict you are? Not that the entire town isn't aware of it already. But if she does, then how long do you think it's going to be before they figure out you murdered her dad? Not long, I can tell you that."

His father had this unhealthy thing about the Calhouns. He'd tried, several times over the last ten years or so, to get Dad to tell him why the fuck he had a hard on for them, but all he'd ever gotten out of him was that TJ had stolen something from him. And when he'd asked if he could go and steal it back, he'd only slapped him in the face. It was the last time he'd brought the Calhouns up.

"I need to buy that building. And fucking soon." That was another thing he didn't understand. With all the empties all over town, why the fuck did he have to have that one? "The moment that we move out of there, according to our lease we have with that prick, they can do whatever they want to the building. For now, all they can do is collect rent. I cannot let them have access to that building, and now because of you, they'll have all the rights they want. Fuck, this shit is going to get you killed, George."

"Why? Why not just give him more than he paid for it?" His father just looked at him. "Damn it, I don't know why you want it so badly anyway. It's falling down, there isn't a decent place in it to get cooled off, and the bathrooms need to be updated. Twice when I went in the men's room to take a shit, the toilet didn't want to flush."

"That's because you save it all up for a single dump a week, and it's like trying to flush a truck down a toy car system. Why can't you just go at home?" George said he didn't care for the way it smelled. "Well, you can bet your bottom dollar that the people who work for you don't care for it either. And the reasons I want that building are none of your concern. He got me when we were down, and he won't let me have it back for any amount I throw at him. So you just keep going to work there so that we can keep renting it."

After he left his dad's office, George made his way to his suite of rooms. He supposed it was frowned upon to still be living at home at thirty-five, but he didn't want to have to be bothered with rent. And besides, he was pretty sure that no one would rent to him again. He'd had too much fun at his last place.

George went to his closet and pulled out the briefcase he'd stored in there several weeks ago. Over the last few months he'd been collecting the rent money from the electronics building that his dad had given him and storing it away. When he realized that something might happen to it at the office, he'd gotten himself a nice leather briefcase and had been putting it in it. Taking it home with him had been tricky too. He'd had to find a way to hide it in his room so that none of the snooping staff found it. Finally, he'd told them to stay completely out of his personal space.

It never occurred to him that his room would suffer from them being banned from his place. His bed was never made now, and he couldn't remember the last time that his towels had been refreshed. He supposed there was a linen closet around someplace that he could get some clean ones from, but again, he didn't want to bother. He was going to own this house soon, and then there would be changes all the way around. First and foremost, he was going to move into the master bedroom and piss all over his Dad's bed before having it removed. George wanted the bigger bed, not the small king he had now.

George had over sixty grand in his case. Nearly all of it was the rent money that should have been paid to the Calhouns. And he'd begun taking money from the drawers at the end of the night as well and not making a deposit. It wasn't as if his dad couldn't afford the loss of money, but he would be pissed if he knew. His dad was a stickler about things like money, especially lately.

Putting the cash away again after taking out enough for a hit or two, he put on some reasonably clean clothing and made his way down the stairs again. His dad was going out the door, so George paused at the landing to wait until he was gone. George didn't have time to get into any kind of fight with him again. He had things to do, and his dad was just too judgmental. He saw Claude, the butler, go to the door with him.

"Sir, there is a phone call for you. Mr. Calhoun would like to speak to you about the building you're renting from him." Dad told him to tell the man to fuck off. "I'm sure that I can't do that, sir, but you should know that he claims you to be in breach of contract."

"What sort of breach, did he say?" Claude said that he had not. "Just tell him that we're going to be there until computers are out of style. And we both know that that's not going to happen. Tell him…I don't care what you tell him, but I'm going out the door to a business meeting. If he has any questions, tell him to talk to my attorney."

After his dad left, George made his way down the stairs. Claude was still standing there, looking at him as if he were a dangerous bug. He'd better be nicer to him, was all George could think of. Soon he was going to be running this place.

"Mr. Flynn, I was wondering if there might be a chance that we can tidy up your room. The staff has noticed that there is a vile odor coming from in there." George said nothing as he gathered up his coat and hat. Winter was coming on hard now, and he was never sure he'd get a ride back to the house. "Also, there is the matter of your laundry."

"My laundry? What about it?" Claude said that there hadn't been any in some time. "No shit. It's all over my room. And as for the odor, I don't smell a damned thing. Stay out of my room, and I'll set my dirty underwear out in the hallway for you to find."

George was going to take a dump in a pair of his finest boxers and set them right on top of all his laundry. Yes, sir, he thought, that'll make a great odor coming from the vicinity of his room. Laughing as he left the house, he waited on the steps for the limo to come around. He had called down to the garage before he'd left, and hated that he wasn't where he'd told him to be. Just as he was going to pull out his cell and call down to the garage, it rang.

"I forgot to tell you, your car won't be at your disposal today, George. I've got a lot of errands to run and mine is in the shop." George asked him how that was his problem. "Because I pay the bills and you don't. Why don't you just drive yourself in? It's not like you don't know how. I paid dearly for you to have a license that you no more deserve than you do that check you get every week. There is a perfectly good car in the garage for you to use. Just try very hard not to kill anyone again."

When the line went dead, George wanted to scream. He thought about throwing his phone across the yard, but didn't at the last minute. He would have to beg for a replacement as he'd done last week, and he wasn't going to go through that again. His dad was making everything more difficult. Rubbing his forehead at the pain that was constantly there, he tried to think what he was to do now. He really hated his father.

The car that he could drive was banged up. He'd told his dad several times that it needed to be put in the body shop, but he had yet to have it done. George could not wait for his dad to be dead. Once he was things would finally start getting done around here. All this bullshit of being put off like he wasn't worth it was driving him nuts. Didn't his dad know that your children were supposed to get it all?

George was almost all the way to his job when he remembered that he had to get money to the killer. He loved that…the killer. His dad was going to be so surprised when he had a gun pulled on him or whatever this guy decided to do. George only wished that he could see his face when the guy told him it was from him. It was something that George was going to have to pay extra for, the man telling his dad that George was the one that paid to have him killed. But it would be worth it to know that his dear old dad knew he'd outsmarted him.

His dad thought he was stupid. It wasn't as if George didn't have his problems, he did. But to be called that by your own flesh and blood hurt more. Most of the time, when he'd been just a kid, George would hide from his dad until he realized that Dad preferred it that way, that George wasn't around. Then when George's mom had run off with that man, he'd been shoved away more often. He was pretty sure that his dad wished that she'd taken him with her when she'd left. George did too sometimes.

His dad, he knew, was a prick to everyone. He didn't seem to have any friends that George had ever met…only business associates or an occasional woman that would spend the night. That didn't happen often, however. He thought his dad had the same issues he did with the broads. He was simply too fat for them. His dad was also a liar.

George thought about the death of the cop and knew, way down deep inside, that he'd not had a thing to do with it. It had been, he thought, his dad all along. He was pretty sure that he'd remember something like that. When he was high or drunk and something happened, he would sober up pretty quickly.

Pulling out his cell phone, he texted the killer, telling him that he'd have to get with him later in the night. George also told him that he had a few things to tell him as well, and could they meet for dinner. As he waited for the man to answer him back, George took three more hits off his hand and set up another deal to meet with his dealer.

Fine. For some reason the single word answer back from his hit man made him pissy. But he knew better than to cross the man. Things were about to get hot around here, and having a pissed off killer wasn't going to be conducive to his plans. George could not wait to be in charge of shit.