Captured

Emma's POV
I wake to fingers trailing down my naked body, tracing my curves, sending tingles through me. My nipples harden, and I can feel my clit start to throb as I get wet. I open my eyes to meet Peter's blue ones burning into me; lust, passion, love, desire written in them for any fool to see.

My open eyes are all the encouragement he needs, his lips crash into me with hungry urgency; his tongue demands entrance as his teeth graze my lips.

He rolls over me, caging me beneath him, his rock-hard dick nudging me, wanting between my closed thighs.

I part my lips giving him full access, tingles lighting up my body. He captures my first moan in his mouth.

A hand reaches down, one finger pressing over my clit, brushing down between my lower lips, finding my wet core; entering me and extracting another moan as I move against him

I desperately try to part my legs, to give him access to my hot ache pool of need, but his legs trap mine.

‘Plu-please Peter,’ I moan and wriggle.

‘Tell me kitten, tell me what you want’ he instructs.

The dominant tone heightens my need. ‘Fuck me, for Goddess sake, fuck me.’

He moves one leg between mine and with the freedom given I spread myself wide. He curls two fingers in and out, in and out, my hips thrusting in time to the rhythm he is playing on my body.

His mouth lowers and takes a nipple, sucking, biting, nipping.

I mewl with mindless need, raking my nails over his shoulders.

He withdraws his hand, and my eyes fly open with shock and lust, only to watch him lick my juices from his fingers, savouring my taste.

As I watch him, he repositions himself and enters me in one smooth movement, my head flies back ‘Oh Goddess,’ I moan. ‘Harder, fuck me Peter.’

He pounds into me hard, over, and over; our grunts and moans filling the room… then I am unravelling, screaming his name as pleasure overtakes me.

He continues for a few more thrusts, prolonging my orgasm before he groans my name, following me over the precipice.
...
We lie together for a while, cooling down, sweat evaporating. I stroke one finger down Peter’s chest, I love the feel of his skin under my fingers.

In the three days since Brian escaped Peter has been very possessive. Sofia got the blood bond done the next day, and today Jerf gets whipped, before moving in with us, as my full time babysitter. And I really don’t want to see that.

‘Peter,’ I venture.

‘M-muh, kitten,’ he responds, stroking my hair, his breathing deep and even.

‘Can I go shopping please? Just to the market town, Newton…’ I ask. ‘I want to get something for Jerf, you know, after the punishment.’

He gets up on one arm so he can look at me, a frown crossing his face.

‘Are you sure that is a good idea?’ he asks.

‘Yes,’ I respond. ‘You can send a guard… or guards with me… pretty please.’ I bat my eyes at him. ‘Also, I really would like to be away from here when he is punished… I get that it is necessary for the pack, but I feel like it was my fault, and with the blood bond already in place I don’t think I will get another chance to surprise him.’

He thinks for a moment. ‘Okay kitten, let me arrange a guard for you.’ Then ‘How long till you are ready to go.’

I look at him lasciviously, and run a finger under the bedsheets to circle the tip of his already hard cock, which is weeping slow salty tears of desire.

‘They will pick you up in two hours,’ he groans. ‘Now where were we.’
…
Ninety minutes later I am towel drying my hair, before dressing comfortably in a sports bra, pants, black jeans, and a fuchsia-coloured t-shirt, as well as boots, as I will, of course, be riding again today.

I grab a jacket and head to the kitchen to grab toast and a coffee while I wait for my guard.

I eat the toast and braid my hair, gulping the last bit of coffee as there is a knock on the door.

‘Later Peter, love you,’ I yell up the stairs to him diving out of the door.

*Love you too, kitten* echoes in my head… shit I really can’t get used to that, but I can feel the warmth and truth in his thoughts which makes me smile.

‘Okay guys…’ I look round at my guard. ‘… and gal, just a quick trip to Newton for some shopping and then back here by dinner time. I am Emma, call me Em, and I am sorry I don’t know who you are yet.’

‘Luna, I am Sonia,’ nods a fiery redhead, ‘and these goons are Dave and Percy.’

The goons as she describes them are nearly seven foot tall, both with black hair, and their shoulders are so wide I am surprised they fit through doors. All of them are dressed in tight black t-shirts coupled with combat trousers, and wear dog-tags, or should that be wolf-tags round their necks.

I am pretty certain the three of them could invade a small country on their own; they reek of power and violence. I let calling me Luna slide. I don’t think this girl wants to blur the chain of command… ever.

‘Let’s get this show on the road,’ I bounce off towards the stairs, and my waiting horse. I am hoping I am riding Mabel today, as she is my preferred ride.

My face widens into a grin as I see the chestnut mare waiting for me, with a bay and two blacks for the others.

We saddle up quickly and head off to town.
…
Newton is a small town, with cobbled streets and radiates outwards from a large circular marketplace with a well in the middle.

The buildings are all stone or wood and some kind of plaster, continuing the medieval theme of other places, but in common with them it doesn’t smell medieval.

As it is market day, I put my horse into stables, and dive off into the thronging crowd, looking for gifts, acting like a child and driving my protector's mental.

After finding a leather plaited bracelet with black quartz beads on for Jerf, and a crescent moon necklace for Peter I hit the apothecary, proudly coming out with a balm for lash marks, the werewolf equivalent of ibuprofen and some bubble bath for Sam.

‘It is getting late Luna,’ Sonia states. ‘Anything else?’

‘A gift for my granddaughter,’ I smile. ‘I think there was a stall selling wooden toys over there.’

We make our way towards the vendor selling the brightly coloured toys, when I stop, a movement catches my eye. I track towards the movement and see a young girl of maybe 12 staring at me. Her skin is pale, as if she hasn’t seen the sun in a while, her hair is brown, but looks dull and unkempt; even though it is neatly pulled back into a braid. She is dressed in jeans with a yellow t-shirt, but no jacket. Something about her appears familiar to me.

I turn to the others, ‘The girl over there appears familiar, do any of you know her?’

‘Which girl?’ Sonia starts, then the red head freezes. ‘Lauren,’ she calls. ‘Lauren, it is me, your aunt.’

My memory kicks in, Lauren is one of the missing pups…. Oh Goddess, one of the missing pups. Lauren looks startled and scared, looking once more at her aunt then she takes off running.

Sonia looks at me, pain in her eyes, ‘Luna?’

‘Go after her you fool, she might be able to lead us to the rest… Dave go with her. Percy can look after me,’ I command.

They take off after the blur of yellow.

‘Let’s get back to the horses,’ I tell Percy, suddenly feeling a bit uneasy. ‘Shopping can wait for another day.’

We walk towards the stables. Percy is on high alert. A scream pierces the air… Sonia…

***AMBUSH*** she yells through the link, *get the Luna to safety.*

Percy throws me over his shoulder running towards the stables. Suddenly unfamiliar wolves are pouring into the town.

‘ROGUES INCOMING’ someone yells

The sounds of battle surround us. Percy is fighting one-handed, still trying to get to the stable. A groom comes out with Mabel, someone must have linked him. He throws me onto the horse, slapping her flank and screams ‘RIDE’.

Mabel is terrified by the snapping teeth; the smell of blood; and sounds of battle. She sees an opening and bolts for it. It takes all my limited skills to stay on her back as she gallops for the road to the forest.

I look back and see Percy disappear under a mound of rogues. I don’t understand what is happening, or why.

We are nearly at the tree line, and I think we have escaped, and I can go and get help from the pack, when a man dressed in black from head-to-toe steps out.

Mabel rears, dumping me on to the pavement, and bolts for home. I don’t blame her, he throws off an air of apex predator, personally I am frozen in place as he stalks towards me.

‘Luna’ he bows, his voice smooth and dark, like hot chocolate on a winter’s night; decadent, sweet and tempting.

‘Wh-ho are y-you?’ I stutter.

‘Lord Jorge Skalisty at your service m’lady,’ then he looks beyond me and nods.

A bag covers my head, then pain through my temple, and I sink into unconsciousness.