Chapter 7

"Zenya," he purred as he sat in the chair behind his desk. "When we are alone you will call me by my name. I rather think I will like hearing it coming from your pretty mouth." He dragged his finger across her bottom lip, pulling it down, baring her teeth. He chuckled. "Although I have other uses for your pretty little mouth as well. Take your clothes off now."

Dropping his hand to his side, he stepped away. Returning to his seat, he leaned back. His hands steepled under his chin as he studied her. It had been a long time—had she changed so much? "Now."

"Now?" she repeated. Was he actually serious, or was this some kind of test to see whether or not she would really submit and give herself to him?

He nodded silently.

She wasn't intimidated by him—at least, that's what she told herself. She shrugged out of the flimsy negligee, a silk gown that clung to her body that she would never have bought for herself. She stripped quickly, letting the thin nightie fall from her shoulders to puddle on the floor at her feet.

Lucian didn't ask her to put on a strip tease or to slow down, but the way his hard cock tented his jeans said he was wildly aroused and probably eager to get this done. She couldn't say she disagreed, but she doubted she would be experience the encounter the same way.

"Turn around for me." He rumbled in command. "Slowly this time. I want to take a good look at what I've waited so very long for."

Zenya took a deep breath and then did as she was told, holding her arms awkwardly away from her body.

"Good girl," he purred seductively, smiling as her nipples stiffened under his stare.

He continued to look at her, his eyes sweeping over her body as she continued to stand there, unsure of what she should do next. He didn't leave her standing there for long.

"Come here."

Silently she padded towards him with nothing to shield her from his fervent gaze. Every atom of her being wanted to cover her nakedness, or better yet run away, but she'd already tried that. It hadn't worked. He'd found her anyway. She would not give him the satisfaction of trying to get away again—at least not tonight.

He stood up, coming around the desk. Taking her by the hand, he led her back behind it and sat down again. "Sit here and put your feet on the arms of my chair. I want to look at you."

"Look at me?" she squeaked, blushing scarlet. Zenya could see that sitting like that, he wouldn't be just looking at her, he'd be examining her, staring at his property. He would have a close-up view of her most intimate areas.

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

"No, Lucian." She lifted herself onto the desk, positioning her feet exactly how he had instructed, and was rewarded with a wide smile.

"You can be a very good mate when you try, can't you?" he purred.

Leaning forward, he parted her thighs wider. His face was almost completely between her legs as his fingers trailed down her, nudging her legs even wider. Zenya bit back a groan and his head snapped up. Their eyes locked.

"What a naughty mate. You're getting turned on. I wonder, is it my calling you a ‘good mate,' or my spreading you wide?"

"Neither," she snarled, although she wasn't sure whether that was still true.

"Liar," he chuckled. His fingers dipped into her, testing her tightness for a second. "You are soaking my fingers already." Lifting his fingers to her face, he swiped them against her lips. "Taste how wet you are for me, Zenya."

He didn't wait for her to answer or even open her mouth. He forced them in, swirling them inside her mouth until she could no longer taste herself.

"Suck me clean. Show me what that pretty mouth of yours can do." Again and again, he thrust his fingers between her lips. "Such a good mate."

Just as quickly as he had started, he withdrew his fingers, and her mouth was left empty. The hand that had pressed his fingers into her mouth pressed against the opening to her core. He splayed her labia and pushed his fingers inside, making her gasp. She cried out and fell backward, her long strawberry blonde hair falling onto the desk in disarray.

Zenya was enjoying this; enjoying him. It felt good, and she hated herself for the pleasure she was feeling. She shouldn't be feeling this way; Lucian was a monster—a man who cared for nothing but himself.

"You have the prettiest cunt I've ever seen, Zenya, and I have seen more than my fair share, but none compares to yours—all pink and glistening—weeping your need onto my hand. I can't wait to take what is mine completely. I want to ravage you and this pussy. I will use you hard and teach you to crave my touch—be it gentle or rough." His hand moved faster. "And you want me too, don't you?"

Zenya bit her lip. She wouldn't answer; she couldn't. Her brain flatly refused to make the words to deny his claim. She needed to speak. All she could think about was the warmth that was spreading through every fiber of her being, building up a wildfire that threatened to overwhelm her completely.

It had never been like this when she had touched herself, and no one had ever dared to touch her—nor would she let them for fear of what Lucian would do. She'd made herself come a million times. She'd learned long ago to handle herself. But it had never been like this. The growing feeling was almost painful in its intensity.

Her back arched even more, her legs clamping around his hand as she simultaneously tried to move away from him but at the same time keep him close.

"No," she hissed. She scrambled to find some leverage to push him away. She needed him to stop so she could catch her breath because she couldn't breathe. She was burning up inside—every muscle was on fire it was so intense. "No more, please."

He answered her with a chuckle. Forcing her hands away, he gave the inside of her thigh a stinging slap. "You do not push my hands away. I touch you whenever, wherever, and however I choose."

Throwing her head back, Zenya screamed. Pleasure rocked her backwards and it was only his hands that kept her from falling off the desk completely.

Lucian rode out the spasms in her body, keeping his fingers buried deep inside her until she flopped back, totally spent.

"Lovely," Lucian crooned. "What a good girl to come for your mate." Lifting himself from his chair, he bent over her. "Your pussy gripped my fingers so tightly. Like a glove I want to…"

Zenya stiffened, coming back to herself in a rush as she felt him press against her wet opening. He pressed himself forward an inch as a groan fell from his mouth.

"You're so tight, my beautiful mate. It feels like your pussy is strangling my cock. I have never known such pleasure."

His lust-filled eyes met hers as he smiled ferally.Lucian slammed himself forward, filling her completely and shattering the delicate membrane that had marked her as a virgin, filling her completely with one long, hard stroke.

Zenya cried out in pain this time, tears burning her eyes that she tried to blink away. It hurt.

It hurt more than she had expected it to. He was too big. She felt too stretched, too full. It was as if she was being torn apart. Pleasure was a distant memory; all that was left was this stinging pain.

He drew back, and she felt every inch of his length as it left her body just like she had felt every inch of it going in.Only when he'd thrust in, it had been hard and brutal. This was slow and agonizing, and very arousing.

Glancing down, his smile grew smug. "Perfection. My virginal mate" Chuckling, he moved her leg further up over his hip and thrust in again. "Well, I suppose technically, you were a virgin."

Zenya sat up in her bed. What the hell? She'd often had erotic dreams about Lucian, which had become far more frequent since her move to the Outer Banks. Normally they ended before he thrust up into her, leaving her frustrated and wanting. But this time he'd done the deed, so to speak, and it had hurt, leaving a residual, but faint, feeling of pain in its wake. That sucked. Is that how it would be when she finally gave herself to a man? Would she ever give herself to anyone?

She groaned as she rolled out of bed. She was too young to be making sounds like that, but the dream had left her exhausted and more than just a little bit grumpy. She made her way into the bath and stood under the rainfall showerhead. Caye had apologized for the cottage not having a bathtub, but Zenya had never really been a bath kind of girl. She much preferred the large, glassed-in shower with its multiple body sprays.

Once out of the shower and dressed for work, she headed into the clinic.

"Morning, Zenya," called Lucy, their receptionist.

"Morning, Lucy. How's my boy this morning?" she asked of the young bobcat she'd found several days earlier.

"Yowling his head off for breakfast."

Zenya laughed and entered her office. Lucy wasn't wrong. Lucky, as she had named him, was sitting in his crate telling the world that he was starving. He wasn't. He'd been hungry and dehydrated when someone left him in a box at the back door, but other than that he'd been in relatively good shape. As far as she'd been able to tell, Lucky had either fallen down a rocky crag or maybe been clipped by a motorized vehicle, but his injuries had been minor and were healing well.

"You are not starving." The yowl changed to more of a mew as he rubbed up against the front of the crate.

She opened the crate and Lucky hopped out and up onto her desk. This had become their pattern, and she leaned down to rub her head against his. It was the way that felines who knew and liked one another greeted each other. Opening the small fridge she kept in her office, she opened the rubber food container that held the food mixture she'd made for him.

After taking care of Lucky, she placed him in the large cage the wildlife refuge people had provided to her. She told herself she was just keeping him a few days to make sure he was healthy. At that time, he would be released back to the wild.

She reached through the opening of the crate and stroked his soft fur. "You'll be happier once you're free, but I'm going to miss you."

She spent the rest of the morning taking care of patients and treating herself to lunch outside the office. Sitting in one of the small bistros frequented mostly by townspeople, she groaned when she heard the phone in her pocket buzz, indicating a text message. She took a bite of her burger, wiped her hands on the napkin, and pulled the phone from her pocket.

Have you seen or heard from Lucian?

Zenya was so startled she dropped the phone as if it were a hot rock that had burned her hand.

"You okay, Zenya?" called Marge, the bistro's owner and chef.

Zenya looked up, forcing herself to try and at least look calm. "Fine, Marge, just slippery fingers, I guess."

Who the hell could it be? She didn't want to respond, but chucking the phone in the ocean was probably a bit of an overkill. She walked back to the clinic—still a bit stunned and confused. What did it mean? Had she been discovered? Did she have to run? She didn't want to. She'd begun to put down roots, to feel as if she belonged, as if she'd found a home. Someone had to know she was out there, but did they know she was here? Specifying Lucian indicated that whoever it was knew at least peripherally who she was and her situation. As she walked, she could feel her anger and resentment building. She didn't want to run. She loved her life here—and Bryan was almost finished with her dining room table.

Maybe if I don't answer, they'll think they got the wrong person. That was stupid. Of course, whoever had sent it knew who they were sending it to.

She finished the day and was thankful that everything had been routine. Several times she retreated to her office to stroke Lucky's fur. She found it soothing, and the bobcat seemed to understand she was stressed and needed his closeness.

Finally, Zenya was able to go home, where she found herself pacing back and forth. In the end she grabbed her burner phone from her nightstand and texted the emergency number.

Received text today on other phone blocked number asking if I'd heard from or seen Lucian. Please advise.

The response was almost immediate.

Pack what you can easily transport. Pick up will be at Cape Hatteras Lighthouse Within 8 hours. Take no more than 4 hours to leave your current locale. Do not drive straight to lighthouse. Good luck.

She looked around the home she had made. There was so much she wanted to take. So many things had meaning for her. Tears started to fill her eyes. She wiped them away. She didn't have time for tears. She had made this home; she would make another. Opting to take more clothes than anything else, she nevertheless wrapped a beautiful mantle clock Liv had gifted to her in one of her sweaters. She took a few other items and then headed to the clinic.

Once inside, she grabbed a traveling crate for Lucky, placing him inside and then packed his food and the vial of antibiotics. She would release him to the wild herself, but neither of them was ready to be without the other. Securing his crate in her Jeep, she stopped at the ATM, withdrawing the maximum amount of cash, and then left town in the opposite direction she needed to go. She glanced at the clock on her dashboard—less than two hours had elapsed. She would make good use of the four hours to ensure no one was following her.