Page 32 of Ruthlessly Mated
“Do we have a destination in mind?” Tailor asks the question. I can see him eyeing shops that line the main street we’re walking down. He wants to buy some clothes. One of his regular laments about living in Port Denhome was not being able to get decent clothes, which never seemed to stop him from being impeccably attired.
No Fangs
There are signs everywhere indicating the general distrust and dislike of unnaturals. It’s interesting to be in a city entirely designed around hating other creatures. I’d be offended, but it would be a waste of time.
“We’re going back to the truck,” I tell him. “We’re going to find out what’s inside, because I need to know why we almost died. I want to know what she is up to.”
“She said she doesn’t want us to look,” Tailor says.
“What she wants doesn’t matter. We need to know.”
“I don’t think opening the back of the truck in this city is a good idea. I think we need to get out of here as soon as possible,” he says. “If we don’t know what’s inside… what if it is alive? What if it jumps out the moment we open the door?”
We are already back down by the truck, which does blend in well in the transport yard. She planned this well. I just wish I knew what exactly it was she was planning.
We go over to the truck, where the shipping container is still in place. I go to the rear while Tailor murmurs about what a bad idea this is, and I unlatch the back stays of the truck. The doors swing open to reveal…
A second set of doors. These ones are bolted shut. A storage container in a storage container.
“She must have a key on her.”
“Iknewyou were doing something shady!” Kita explodes out of the shadows, bristling with annoyance. “What are you doing! I told you to stay out of there!” She runs up and slaps me on the arm almost hard enough to hurt. “This is my shipping container. Mine!”
“I don’t like your tone, little mate.”
“I don’t like your inability to understand simple instructions. Don’t open the fucking truck!”
I swing her off her feet, reminding her that she’s not actually in charge. It’s time I dominated this little wretch properly. The first night we were together was not enough. She’s dismissed it as a one-off event and decided she’s in charge.
Posting my leg up on the tail of the truck, I throw her over my knee and yank down her pants. She knows what’s going to happen before it starts.
“Ow! Stop!”
I smirk. I haven’t even started yet and she’s already begging for mercy.
“I’m not going to stop, little girl,” I growl, spanking her bare ass hard. Her skin starts to flush red, her legs are starting to kick, and I know she’s feeling this. She’s stoic when she wants to be. Proved that with the silver coin test. But there’s a difference between spanked for bad behavior and just trying to resist reacting to stimulation.
“I’m going to keep spanking you until you understand you’re not in this alone. We are not props on the side of the road of your personal mission to do something incredibly dangerous. I want to know what is in that truck, and you are going to be very sore and very sorry until I do.”
“I don’t care! I’m not telling you!”
“Yes. You. Are.”
I spank her hard. And fast. I make her feet drum with pain as she tries to resist the urge to just give in and submit. I know she can, and she will.
She is getting so red and so sore. I pause, long enough to give her a chance to stop things.
“What’s in the truck, Kita?”
“None of your fucking business.”
My palm is starting to numb out from spanking her, but I’ve set up a situation in which I have to keep going until she breaks. But I already know she’s not going to break.
This is because we have not properly taken her. We have not taken our wolf forms. She has not taken hers. We are all playingat being people, but the truth is we are beasts. At a time like this, that matters. I have the animal urge to clamp down on the back of her neck and shake her for this insolence. She would feel it, too. Not like she does now, as an outrageous demand, but as an irresistible command.
Trying to claim a she-wolf while never having taken animal form is ridiculous. Tailor is right. We have to get out of here, and we have to be what we are and we have to mutually, communally claim her. All three of us, so she knows who we are, and she knows who she is with us.
I turn to look at Tailor. “We need to get out of this city. Tonight.”
