Page 29 of Ruthlessly Mated (Shared Mates #2)

T ailor

Everything is not going to be okay.

Finally everybody has agreed to go and get the insurance and find somewhere safe to live. But doing those things is not as easy as it seems.

The insurance is buried fifty or so miles from the old port site. Far enough away to be accessed without drawing too much attention—in theory, at least—but close enough that we are all tempted to go look at the damage. It was our home, our stronghold, the seat of our power for many years.

I drive, because I am the only one who knows where the insurance is. Damon is beside me, and Conroy and Kita are in the back seat doing god knows what, but the occasional sound of giggling makes me suspect it is absolutely filthy.

The sun is on our faces, the vampire threat is null and void, and we have well and truly escaped the stronghold of human bigots. But we all smell the acrid air of the burned port many miles before we get close to it. There’s a haze hanging in the breeze, as if parts are still on fire.

I feel angry. Angrier than I was before.

I have been distracted by the many subsequent disasters, but now that I smell the port I remember how much we lost to the attack.

I very nearly lost my life, and I feel as though I lost part of myself.

I am not the same as I was before Alexander got his hands on me.

The memory of the vampire’s cruelty will not abate any time soon.

I feel a cold shiver running down my spine, along with a flare of rage.

I have been temperate about all these events, but I have not forgotten what he did.

Kita’s acting out, Conroy’s rage, those tend to take center stage.

Damon’s fury and my desire for vengeance are less obvious, but no less powerful.

“Should we go?” Conroy leans over to me.

He wants to go to the port site. It’s a crazy idea. It’s an absolute nonsense notion. We are here to collect funds to start a new life, not to dig around in the ashes of the old one.

“Why?” I ask.

“For old time’s sake?”

“Old time was last week,” I remind him. “It could be dangerous. The vampire may have left lookouts. They have human thralls. We could be making ourselves a target by returning. We’re here to get money, not to get into trouble.”

“Our lives are always dangerous. I think we should check it out. We could rebuild.”

I try not to roll my eyes. I fail.

“Nobody is coming back to a secret port that was firebombed. Not worth the risk.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to raise pups in a smuggler’s port.”

“She’s not even pregnant yet. We should go back. See if there’s anything worth salvaging. See if we can open the safe. Remember the safe? The insurance could probably do with some supplementation.”

I turn the car toward the port, outwardly reluctant, but inwardly actually very keen. This is not a good idea, but technically it is Conroy’s idea.

The old route to the port, which used to be guarded and hidden, is now wide open owing to all the fire.

As we crunch over the road at low speed, it is obvious that our old world lies in ruins.

It was burned to a crisp. Every building has been reduced to ash and cinders.

It is very hard not to be consumed with rage.

I stop the car and we all get out. The sound of the ocean is soothing. It’s the only thing that is in any way calming. We are surrounded by the skeletal remains of what used to be a bustling underground port.

I am very much aware of all we have lost. Our lives. All we worked for. All we valued.

“The safe’s still here!” Conroy calls from over in the remnants of the office.

I remain at a distance as he and Damon go over to open it up.

There are some gold reserves inside, which will certainly come in handy.

I look around, mentally tallying up the likely costs of rebuilding.

The costs will be in the millions. Even if we open the port in a diminished capacity, the berths have been burned.

There’d be wood to cart, and a lot of carpentry work to re-do.

I suppose we could enact one of our earlier plans, which is to make the place look like a seaside resort, and therefore hide the illicit activities in the plain light of day.

It would certainly make burning the whole thing down more of a socially unacceptable thing to do.

We could pretend to go straight, perhaps pick out various types of cargo that we deemed to be generally safer.

I am aware that Kita is hanging around me, guilt emanating from her.

“What is it, pup?”

“I’m sorry,” Kita says softly. “I did this to you.”

“You did not. The vampire did.”

“I brought the vampire to you.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I kind of feel like it does.”

I pick her up, physically, off the ground, and press her against the nearest standing column, a steel beam that refused to burn, something foundational and unyielding.

“If you insist on blaming yourself, I will whip you like you have never been whipped before,” I say, my tone quite even, but very serious.

The last thing we need is for Kita to start taking on more than she should. She has been naughty, yes. She has been hard to handle, sure. But she did not set the port on fire. And I will not have her bearing guilt for something she should not bear guilt for.

Kita

Shocks of excitement run through me as Tailor lifts me up and holds me in place as if I weigh nothing at all.

Holy fuck. This man is a dark horse. Tailor has been so very proper in almost everything since we’ve met. He’s been the gentleman who makes everything seem reasonable and safe, even when it is neither reasonable nor safe.

“Are you mad at me?” I whimper the question.

His eyes narrow at me, and I almost expect him to say yes.

“I am not mad at you, but I am determined to teach you to obey me, especially in matters like these. You will not blame yourself for this. You. Will. Not. Do you understand me?”

I feel sharp zaps of arousal and excitement. Tailor doesn’t talk like this. Conroy is the one who growls and demands with rough dominance, but Tailor is nice and refined, and he doesn’t tell me what to do. Until now, apparently. My nervousness makes me wriggle.

“Stay still,” he orders, his voice like silk.

I can’t stay still. I whimper and I squirm. I tug against his grip, half to feel it, and half to test it. I am the sort of animal that needs to move. Stillness feels like danger. This steady grip feels like force.

“Stop. Moving.”

“I can’t,” I whimper.

“You can, and you will.” His fingers slide between my legs and stroke the slick fabric there, sliding over my pussy with a touch that teases and pleases and denies me at the same time.

I do not stay still. My hips grind and my wrists turn and I disobey him with every motion of my body and breath I take.

“I can’t. And I won’t,” I moan back.

He palms my pussy and squeezes firmly enough to keep me in place, the heel of his hand against my clit.

“Maybe not right now, but you will learn.”

His hand slides away, then returns in a sharp slap.

“Ow!” I whimper. “Why would you do that?”

“Punishment is part of learning,” he growls. “If I have to punish you, I will. It is as simple as that.”

“No,” I whine, the word sharpening in the middle when his palm meets my pussy again in another one of those slaps that makes me tingle all the way through my core.

“Yes,” he says firmly, spanking me again.

“It’s not my fault. I can’t help it.”

“That’s a pity, isn’t it,” he says, so smoothly and mercilessly, now rubbing between my legs with a rhythm that once more makes my hips dance.

“Tailor, no. Fuck. Come on. It’s not fair. It’s not…”

“Stay still,” he growls.

“I can’t!” I lift my voice in frustration.

“Don’t you raise your voice at me,” he says, spanking my panty-clad clit. “You speak to me with respect.”

I am getting so wet, and I am finding it impossible to do what he wants, and it’s not fair, and he knows it, and everything I do is just getting me in more trouble, which is getting me wetter and making me need him more as he gets more and more intensely stern with me.

I abandon speaking entirely, dropping into groans and growls.

“No growling either,” he says. “You’ll behave yourself like a lady when I fuck you, understand?”

Clothes come off and his cock surges inside me, stretching me open in one rough thrust that brings a long moan from me. Then I don’t have to worry about saying or doing the wrong thing, because I am out of my mind with lust, being fucked in the ashes of the disaster I created…

“No,” he snaps in my ear.

“What?”

“It isn’t your fault.”

“Are you reading my fucking mind?”

“You wear guilt like a mask,” he says, grinding up inside me, his cock thickening inside me as he gets closer to breeding me. “I can feel it, Kita. You are not a subtle creature. You broadcast every feeling you have on your face.”

He pauses inside me, his cock throbbing, my inner walls pulsing around his thick rod.

“It’s not your fault,” he says, fucking me with slow strokes, emphasizing every word with a snap of his hips that buries his dick deep inside me. “Repeat that.”

“I can’t,” I whine.

I really mean I won’t. I don’t want to say the words he’s putting in my mouth. I don’t want to do as I’m told. It’s one thing to submit to a fucking I can’t avoid, but to say what he wants me to say is a step too far.

He pulls out of my pussy completely, pushes his fingers inside me, swirls them around collecting my viscous arousal and rubs it against my asshole. He doesn’t say a word, just sternly moves from my pussy to my ass and pushes inside my much tighter hole.

I gasp and tears spring to my eyes. I’m not in pain; it’s just a feeling of the deep unfairness of being disciplined by my mate for not doing as he wanted me to.

Why do I have to do what he says? Why can’t I blame myself?

Why can’t I just… Fuckkkk… He’s sliding up inside my ass and it’s tight and it’s kind of good, but kind of bad.

At least he’s stopped telling me what to say.

“Bad little girls who don’t do as they’re told have their asses fucked,” Tailor growls in my ear, his fingers digging into the flesh of my ass as he holds me in place and keeps my ass filled.

I grind my clit against his body on every stroke, still getting some pleasure from this punishment. Mercifully, he is already very close to coming. Less mercifully, his knot is forming inside my tight ass and I am stuck on his cock with an ass full of his cum.

“Good girl,” he says, breathing hard. “You took that so well. You didn’t stay still, but we can work on that.”

“That was mean. You’re not usually mean.”

“It wasn’t mean. It was necessary. You need some proper discipline. You need to learn that you’re not allowed to blame yourself when I tell you not to. You might be a wild little creature, but you must obey me.”

I wish I could escape right now, but there’s no escaping after sex with a wolf. My ass is clenching on his cock and will until his knot subsides.

“Enough squirming,” he says, settling his hands on my hips, crooking a leg forward and pressing his hips more firmly against me to keep me in place and entirely still as my wet pussy leaks desire over the very base of his cock.

“You know I can’t help it.”

“That’s unfortunate for you, then. Means you’re going to be in trouble with me quite a lot.”

“Where did this come from? You were so nice. You were the nicest one. And now you’re the meanest one.”

“I am not the meanest one,” he says. “Though I will be if that’s what you need. You’ve been taking on too much for too long, and I have no intention of letting that continue.”

His knot is starting to soften, which is a mercy. I am going to be sore after this.

He slides out of me, snuggles me against him, and carries me back to the car. “I want you to stay here,” he says, wrapping a blanket around me. “Don’t move. If you do, I will spank you and you will cry.”

Having been told what to do, I sit in the car, somewhat befuddled.

What the fuck just happened? Why was he just so stern and firm about it?

With nothing to do, I snuggle up in the blanket and close my eyes for a moment.

I feel so safe. Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe I should just be furious at Tailor for daring to treat me like… like…