Page 37 of Auctioned to the Alpha

Not anymore.

Not ever.

She moaned as he coursed his hand further down her back, effortlessly slicing the fabric of her blouse away with his claws, her frightened intake of breath, as if he might cut her, making him smile despite himself. That she still felt even the tiniest bit of trepidation at what he might do to her worked to his advantage. It would only help matters along. He was not about to disabuse her of that notion, not then anyway. For it played into his plans and helped him make her that much more his.

In every way.

Slashing away the remnants of her blouse and cutting the white lace bra to ribbons in moments, he splayed his palm upon the soft skin between her shoulder blades. She trembled under his touch, and he pressed a kiss to the top of one bare shoulder, the tips of his canines extending minutely as he sunk his teeth into her just the slightest bit. It wasn’t enough to pierce her, of course, but more than sufficient to hurt, their true sharpness imprinted upon her both a warning and a promise.

She groaned at that, her head arching up from the mattress. But she made no other move to resist.

Good. Very good.

“Shh,” he whispered against her heated skin, breathing in her unique—and absolutely irresistible—scent. “Be still now, omega. I’m not nearly done with you yet.”

Making quick work of the rest of her clothing, tearing at the slacks and yanking the wrecked tatters out from under her, he denuded her of everything within a minute, Stacy panting and shivering over his lap when he was done.

Taking a moment to admire her stunning form, he smoothed a hand over the pale moons of her buttocks, loving the feel of the hot, livid marks his cruel spanking had already left here and there upon her flesh. He intended to add plenty more before he was satisfied he’d gotten through to her.

Caressing his hands down both of her slender arms, he paused at her bound wrists, taking her trembling hands in his, giving them a squeeze, before laying a soft kiss at the base of her skull as his nose nuzzled into the dazzling floral smell of her hair. Her fingers clutched feverishly at his, whether in desperation or fright he could not tell.

He hoped it was a little bit of both.

Stroking every inch of her, as if reacquainting himself with her naked, helpless body, he reveled in the inward sweep of her surprisingly narrow waist, the roundness of her hips arching out in a pleasing broadness, the buttocks generous but smooth, the cleft between them deep, mouth-wateringly fragrant. He eased her bottom open, staring at her tiny hole, tracing its darkened circlet with the sharp tip of a claw.

She jerked as he played with that opening, and he laughed softly.

“Not this time, omega. But soon enough, you’ll yield to me here too.”

Not allowing her time to process the dark implication of his words, he caressed and squeezed the lush but firm thighs, admiring the power in them, pleased at her strength, her obvious vitality.

“Taking such good care of my possession, sweet girl,” he murmured, giving the back of her thigh a long pinch, pleased at the hiss that slipped from her lips at the sharp pain. She was a creature of both stoicism and bravery, even in the most trying of circumstances—which were no doubt part of why she’d become an agent in the first place.

It would be to her credit when it came time to determine how best to approach breeding her.

Getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you?

The thought was in Knox’s voice, of course, his beta—and best friend—always and forever both the voice of reason, and the messenger of the truth.

Even when Dmitri would rather kill the man than hear it.

Strangely, it reminded him of Knox’s usual role in activities such as the one Dmitri was engaged in at that moment.

Initially, he’d intended to have Knox witness her being punished, but instead a surge of possessiveness and almost obsessiveness within him had caused Dmitri to nix the idea.

The first time she was disciplined, he wanted it to be just him and her.

It was more than establishing boundaries though. What was needed was to get her used to being controlled and used by him alone.Thatwas something he hadn’t expected, but he would be damned if he’d go against that instinct.

Still, it threw him off somewhat, because it wasn’t how he’d usually operated within the pack. In the past when he’d had sexual encounters, while they weren’t with omegas obviously, theywereintimate partners. And in his pack, they shared more than kinship and blood. He had no problem with his packmates watching or even sometimes taking a turn themselves, when he fucked a woman.

But he realized deep down that even that was probably part of what was different about his little mischievous agent, about having an omega. He couldn’t help but wonder too if his sudden territorial streak might be yet another indication that the female pinned down over his lap was much more than a mere omega.

Was it possible she could be his true mate?

The differences, the tell-tale signs could be subtle, but more often they were as obvious as the sunrise. With Stacyeverythingseemed different, more… intense. He was contending with emotions and urges he’d never encountered before. The most obvious sign of a true mate, of course, were the marks, those mysterious emblems emblazoned upon the flesh of the female in the presence of her one true alpha. Often enough, it was the pack’s crest—or the alpha’s family crest—but sometimes it was a complete mystery what a particular mark meant or signified.

Like a boy on Christmas morning, part of him couldn’t wait to discover what it was.

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