Page 34 of Depraved
“I feel fine.”
“That’s the orgasm talking.” She gives me a peck on the lips before she gives me a soft, understanding smile that morphs into a naughty one. “But the good news is, I don’t leave yet. You have to get four orgasms before that happens. One down. Three to go. And I plan to drag them out.”
I scoff at her, trying to shake off the niggling uncertainty inside me. I try to focus on what she’s saying rather than what’s implied by the fact that she and the pack alpha are going off without me. “I don’t think Black was serious about the four-orgasm thing.”
She leans up and props herself up on her elbow, hair falling across one shoulder. Looking gorgeous as always. “Oh, he was.” She kisses my cheek. Then my jaw. Then my mate mark again, making my dick twitch back to life. “He wasveryserious. And so am I. You aren’t leaving this bed until you’ve had four orgasms. You can try to fight it. But you’ll lose.”
“How are more orgasms losing?” I grin at her stubbornness. I have no idea why she suddenly wants to follow one of Black’s orders, but this isn’t one I’m going to question. If she wants to suck my dick and ride me all night long, I’d have to be a fool to turn her down. I don’t give a shit if I can’t walk tomorrow or if I’m solely running on adrenaline and not magical healing right now.
“You know, I don’t think it is losing, actually.” Her hand comes up to caress my hair, fingers gently circling my scalp. “So, fight if you want. Or submit if you want. But you’re going to scream my name, Jonah. And you’re going to like it.”
Holy shit.
She pulls away from me and climbs off the bed so that she can reach behind her back and unhook her bra, letting her cum-drizzled breasts spill out. Then she props one leg at a time on the edge of the bed and slowly unzips each boot, building up my anticipation. Her pants come off next, leaving only a lacy scrap over the pussy I’m dying to lick. Elena crawls back onto the bed to hover over me, her expression full of lust. She’s serious about all these orgasms. Fuck.
I swallow hard as she slides her hardened nipples up and down my chest over my t-shirt, teasing me, getting me ready for round two. Of four. Round two of fucking four.
That near-death experience—totally worth it.
9
ELENA
If a creepyold man dug a hole, leaned on his shovel, and pointed at it, saying, “This here’s gonna be your grave, girlie, now get in,” — I’d jump right down. That sort of nightmare would be a relief compared to what’s happening now. I’m surrounded by alpha women who are far more terrifying than human psychopaths who bury women alive.
One of them just asked me if I thought it was okay for her to break her adult children’s arms when they disobeyed her. I’d stared at her incredibly long nose as she’d followed up with this little gem, as if she was being perfectly reasonable. “Only those whose wolves have come in, of course. Shifter healing would keep them out of the hospital. Apparently, quite a few other packs do things that way. So, Luna, what do you think?” She’d blinked her brown eyes at me after asking.
Why the fuck is that even a question? Let me ask you a question. Do you know you should be locked up? That’s what I think.
Fluffy, of course, has disappeared. I’m starting to wonder if she runs away and hides where even I can’t find her when she senses danger. And there’s definitely danger here.
I don’t like the way this alpha’s eyes are measuring me. Her question feels like a trap. Is this sort of bullshit actually done in other packs? I don’t fucking know. Is she trying to reveal my ignorance? Or is she trying to get me to publicly say something that undermines Black? I can’t tell. But it feels like she’s definitely got an agenda.
“I think you need to follow the rules of your pack,” I retort before turning away. It’s the most self-control I’ve ever shown because I really want to give her a black eye. And she’s not the first one to make a weird-ass statement like that.
Fucking hell. How much longer is this shifter funeral going to last?
It’s past midnight and, after an intense shower, where Black scoured Jonah’s scent from me and then doused my own scent in a million perfumily-gross concoctions, I’m in heels and trying not to wobble uncomfortably from foot to foot when I really want to run far away from psycho-arm-breaker and her friends. But I can’t. I have to be proper. So proper that I’m dressed in a satin v-neck tea-length dress that’s shifter mourning yellow, the color of dawn.
The wind is nowhere to be found tonight, so I’m stuck inhaling a cloud of my own stench on the steps of a white gazebo as I rub shoulders with the highest-ranked alpha women, including my mother, who I’ve been avoiding.
The amount of scrutiny and judgment is unbearable. Most of them are projecting their exact thoughts via their facial expressions. Some don’t like me. Some want to dominate me, because they know they can. Some wonder why Black is trying to disguise my scent.
I’d argued with him about it. But he’d insisted. “We’re going to a funeral, Elena. We have to go and show our respect to those who passed.”
“But making everyone wrinkle their nose at me won’t—” I’d stopped talking when I got a mouthful of strawberry body spray.
Black, of course, hadn’t given a damn. “I don’t want your scent distracting the elites I have patrolling or for Thomas or his fucking misfit crew to sniff you out. And I don’t want—”
“Please. You really think they’d attack a funeral?”
His gaze had become dark and intense as he’d stared at me until I felt small. “Yeah, I think they would.”
A shiver creeps up my spine now, just like it did then, when I’d finally submitted and let him perfume every inch of me.
“You cold?” My mother’s voice comes out of nowhere, and I turn, trying not to grimace, as I see her push through the group of women to come to stand beside me. Her hair is up in a French twist, and her skirt suit is a yellow tweed that would look good in a movie, but in real life just kind of looks awkward.
“I’m fine—”
