Okay, this is the first BDSM scene I've ever written, and I have no idea if I did it right. Please, you guys should tell me what you think. And don't forget to leave a review. ❤
“In the name of the moon goddess, are y'all hearing this!? Cecily Knight abducted the Luna of the San Francisco Pack and beat her to a pulp.” “I heard her pack was in full support of it. They planned to kill her, then blame her death on her husband so they could take over his territory.” “Does that even make sense? The lies that are circulating in this forum are just crazy.” “In any case, something fishy definitely went down between the Chicago and San Francisco pack, because they're declaring war! My guess is that the Chicago Pack were the ones in the wrong.” “Do you think the Lycan will intervene? My daddy told me of the time when he was a kid and two large packs in Europe were at war. Their territory was nearly destroyed. I don't want that to happen to us.”Paul stepped onto the VIP floor of the five-star restaurant, handing his coat to a waiting footman. Despite it being only 8 pm on a Saturday night, the flo
"I'll begin, my lord." Gerald hurriedly grabbed the opportunity to speak first. Settling into his seat, he took a deep breath to prepare himself for the speech he'd rehearsed severally in his head. "9 years ago, my youngest daughter, Mary Vaughn, was ambushed by Cecily Knight, sister to the alpha of the Chicago Pack, and poisoned with wolfsbane. This was no child's play, because my daughter had her wolf killed. All because of one pack's inability to control their member, my girl had to live the rest of her life without her important half." "I see." Placing his elbows on the table, Draven intertwined his fingers, leaning forward to rest his jaw on it. "But as you said, that was 9 years ago. Why wait that long to seek justice?"Gerald swallowed, his fist clenching under the table. He could never bring up this matter without encountering that one question. "I hesitated because I once believed burying the matter was the best way to handle it. I no longer share
Biting her nails and tapping her feet, Cecily waited for Paul to return at the front door, because it was unbearable to do so in her room. She checked the window every five minutes for his car, pacing when she saw there was nothing in sight. When she finally heard the pleasant hum of the Maybach truck's engine, she frantically pulled open the door and ran outside. The car came to a halt, and the driver hurriedly got down to open the door to the passenger seats. Paul exited the vehicle, a hand in a pocket of his suit's trousers. Cecily studied his face, attempting to read his thoughts from the look on it. She failed. "Well... How did it go?" Following her brother at his side, she struggled to keep up with his quick steps. "What did the Lycan say? Why aren't you saying anything?" Paul ignored her, focusing more on entering his home. His mother was waiting for him inside, her hands clasped in front of her thighs. Unlike Cecily, she noticed immediately
As Lexie approached the Knight family villa, she wondered why she had been called there this time, and in freaking 3 in the morning. It was a shame she couldn't just ignore the summons, because she was an omega being called by an alpha daughter. Stopping her car a block from the house, like she'd been instructed by Patricia, Lexie completed the remaining distance on foot. Rather than knock on the front door, she rounded the building, heading for the small iron gate that led into the garden. No bulbs were on, but the full moon high in the sky shone enough lights on the grass and trees. In the middle of the garden stood Cecily, in between a row of daises and poppies. She paced back and forth, her arms folded across her chest. When she picked up the distant sound of footsteps, she swerved to the direction it was coming from. Lexie walked through the iron gates, and immediately spotted Cecily. "Good evening, Miss Knight." On reaching her, Lexie respectfully greeted. "—evening—mornin
“After much consideration and plenty of regret, I, Cecily Knight, have decided to step down from the alpha family of the Chicago Pack. While I remain a member of my beloved pack, I am no longer one of its leaders. I relinquish all of my powers, and will no longer participate in any political events or civic duties regarding my pack. This is coming after much meditation and self-examination. I've made a lot of mistakes I'm not proud of, and I've hurt too many people I never intended to. My actions were thoughtless and reckless, but that does not excuse my behavior. I apologize to Mary Vaughn, and anyone else I've ever wronged. From now onwards, I promise to do better, serving my pack and the werewolf community as a whole.”It was a beautiful day. The sun shone brightly in the sky, but the cool breeze helped reduce the effect of the scorching heat. It was the ideal weather for a sunbath, and Belinda did not let such a rare opportunity pass her by. She could
Belinda could remember the night in the picture. It was the night she'd met the blond bombshell named Chloe, and had gotten incredibly jealous of her. Despite taking place months ago, Belinda could still recall the boiling sensation of envy, which had pushed her to take adventures she never thought she would. However, as she'd walked out the club beside Chloe and Draven, she'd felt at peace, because Draven's arm had not been wrapped around the blonde's waist, but hers. The photo on Belinda's phone screen depicted her in a sexy outfit, her body pressed to the Lycan's side. Their body language, their ease in each other's presence—no one who saw it would mistake what it was. It was a very rare photo of the Lycan and his mistress. The caption above the post made by an anonymous account only poured fuel to the flames. “Guess who it is? That's Belinda Knight of the Chicago Pack. Wanna know who she's with? It's the Lycan of the American Wolves. Yes, you read it righ
Belinda watched Cantor leave, closing the door behind him. The creak of the swinging metal echoed through the hall, reminding her who she was being left alone with. Turning back to the room, she took a look around. The space appeared to be some sort of warehouse, with its large size and simple structure. Nothing was in it, except the huge parcels wrapped in cartons and transparent nylons. There were a lot of them, and Belinda found herself wondering what they were. So, she asked. Producing a pack of cigarettes, Draven lit a stick and placed it between his lips. "Cocaine." He answered blandly, leaving Belinda to deal with her surprise alone. Taking a draw from his cigar, he puffed out the smoke. "What is it you needed to talk about?"Immediately, the fact that countless kilograms of the most illegal narcotics in the world were in the Lycan's basement became insignificant to Belinda. This was it. She could no longer chicken out of this one, and neither did she want to. It was necessary
"I know I've already raved about this dress, but I have to do it again. This is amazing!" Running her fingers over the red evening dress, Lexie admired its beauty. Belinda understood how she felt. She too had fallen in love with the gown at first sight. There wasn't much to the dress, really—it was plain with a simple design—but it somehow mixed sexiness and sophistication to appear completely breathtaking. And it had been damn expensive. Never in her wildest dreams could Belinda have afforded the gown, had Draven not handed her his black card. All she'd had to do to get it was ask, and he'd given it to her without a second thought. After buying her dress, she'd maximized the opportunity to get herself various luxury items. The feeling had been intoxicating, casually strolling through stores, gleefully adding accessories to her purchase list. The icing on the cake had been when she'd tried to return the card to Draven. He'd nonchalantly glanced at her, and to
Gazing at the racks in front of him, Derek buried his nose in the crook of his arm, to protect himself from the stench of silver. Just as he'd suspected, the number of boxes had reduced by approximately half, but that still left many. Being surrounded by the one element that could permanently harm him rattled his nerves, but he'd come here on important business. As the charity gala had been a dead end, he now needed to find new clues. Regrettably, that meant coming back here. With a disgruntled sigh, Derek lowered his hand from his face and reached into his pockets. He brought out a pair of leather gloves, which he wore over each hand. Protected and equipped, he began searching through the boxes. If there was one thing that was certain, it was that the weapons weren't made in the Knight family villa. That meant the Knights were only middlemen. If he could find who the producers were, then maybe he could find the final consumers. That was easier said than done, though. In the boxes w
Lila Salvador sat in her fiancé's study, her naked right foot insolently propped on his desk, and her fingers painting her pretty toenails red. Her silky black hair had been left to flow down her back, and a corner of her gown had slid down one shoulder. She was on the phone, and held the device to her ear with her shoulder. If Paul had been there, he would have killed her for getting so comfortable in his space, but that was the thing... He wasn't there. "I still can't believe it, Erika!" Lila whined into the phone. "They came to the house as late as evening. I'm sure they could have waited till morning, I mean he wasn't going anywhere. Yet, they disrupted my dinner. Couldn't find the appetite to eat again." "The arrest is trending everywhere. Making quite a buzz too." The female voice at the opposite end of the line said. "How are you faring?" "How else? Terribly." Lila was quick to reply. She slabbed a dash of red on her big toe, then leaned back to examine it. Once
The news of the arrest of Paul Knight took Chicago by storm. Apparently, their youngest, richest, and most handsome billionaire wasn't a saint. Some didn't mind his crimes. So he hid his money away from the government, who didn't? Then there were those who criticized him mercilessly for it. They were mostly those who were spiteful towards the rich, who felt it was unfair a select few lived in such luxury and extravagance, while they couldn't afford rent. He already had so much, they said, would it kill him to pay his dues to the government? It all should have ended with this simple argument, but then one random reporter from an unknown news outlet published an article reminding people of the Knight Tower scandal. The piece was derogatory, highlighting the rich's habit of trampling on the more unfortunate populace. However, the fire that had lighted the torch was the part where he'd speculated that something terrible had happened to the righteous Fleming couple, especially as they'd m
"Maddox Hawkmore. Who is he?" Georgina felt the color drain from her cheeks, her complexion dropping several shades. Every muscle in her body went taut, straining as her pupils dilated and her parted lips trembled. Belinda's eyebrows shot up at the intense response her mother had to the mention of a mere name. She looked terrified, and that brought to question why. A second later though, Georgina Knight had re-coordinated herself, but it was too late. Belinda had clearly caught her reaction. "You do know him," Belinda stated what she already knew was true. "Who is he?"Georgina had clearly heard Belinda, but she had questions of her own. Her lips thinning, she stared attentively at her daughter. "How do you know that name?" Belinda crossed her arms over her chest. "I asked first. Shouldn't you answer before interrogating me?"Leaning from her seat, Georgina clamped a fist around Belinda's wrist. "Answer me!" Her loud voice was earnest. "How do you know that name?" The tigh
Her phone rang, and Belinda dropped her fork and knife to check who was calling. She was at the restaurant at the Lycan's building, enjoying a meal alone because she needed the peace and quiet. Unfortunately, it was being disturbed. Her eyes on the screen, she lifted an eyebrow at the caller ID. "Hello, Derek." Belinda put the device to her ear. After their less-than-amicable parting at the gala, she'd half expected to not get a call from her ex-mate for a while. Turned out she'd underestimated his maturity. But then again, they had important business together, business more important than any petty quarrel they had. "Belinda." Derek's collected voice came from the other end of the line. "What are you doing right now?" He seemed to ask casually. "Nothing." She briefly glanced down at her almost empty plate. "Just having lunch." "With who?" The reason behind his query wasn't missed, and it made Belinda stiffen, her fingers clutching her phone tighter. Derek must hav
Paul was in his office when his secretary came rushing in, his eyes wide and his voice shaky. "Sir, we have a situation." Raising his head from the documents he'd been proofreading, the alpha of the Chicago Pack raised an annoyed eyebrow at the skinny young man. "I have people I pay to handle these ‘situations’." He stated the obvious. "This one is a bit out of hand, sir." The man insisted. The terror in the boy's demeanor and the way his entire body shook was what got Paul's attention. He dropped everything he was doing and exited from behind his desk. As he followed behind his secretary, he wished he hadn't hired someone so young, so inexperienced, and so easily flustered, for such a crucial office as his secretary. However, the boy was the son of an important member of his pack, and employing him had been a favor to his father. The things an alpha did for the sake of his pack. On arriving at the ground floor of the Knights & Co. company building, Paul quickly saw what
Sparks flew the instant the two lips touched. Draven devoured her hungrily, his tongue pushing her lips apart to dive into her mouth. Fire lit her nerve endings as they kissed, their mutual passion burning everything else away. Belinda straddled him on the chair, each of her legs gripping his thighs. Her arms went up his shoulders, crossing at the back of his neck as she pressed her breast to him. Instinctively, her hips rocked against his erection, creating the friction she desired. Her bare nipple grazed against his chest as she moved, drawing a strangled moan from her. Draven had never been so hard before. It was as though every blood cell in his body had pooled at his groin. His erection strained against his trousers, thick and literally painful. His mind roared with desire for his mistress, the beautiful woman who had fallen upon him by chance. Every fiber of his being wanted to be inside her, to bury himself deep within her. A strong possessiveness gripped him then. He wanted t
What had she done? Belinda's arm remained suspended in the air, as though it was too afraid to come down. The skin of her palm stung, undeniable proof that she had indeed hit the Lycan. She reeled from the thought. She, a low-ranking omega, had hit a man feared by alphas. Belinda could see that he hadn't moved since she'd slapped him, like he too couldn't believe what she'd just done. If only he knew—she was far more shocked than he was. At that moment, a part of her was screaming for her to apologize, to plead that she'd acted rashly and hadn't known what she was doing. The greater part—the part of her that was still possessed by nerve-numbing anger—refused to do that. "I really don't get you." Belinda glared up at Draven with every bit of venom she felt. "You seem to hate me. No," She corrected herself. "you definitely hate me. Yet, you keep me close. Why? You can have any woman on earth, so why choose me? Do you really feel that I deserve to be treated the way you treat me? W
Draven heard the footsteps approach long before he heard the knock. He didn't turn as the door swung open, instead focusing on unbuttoning the front of his white cotton shirt. He didn't need to, because even under the thick floral perfume, he could smell the scent of the woman at the doorway. Belinda Knight stood with her arms folded, her hips leaning on the doorpost. She looked ethereal in her seductive royal blue nightwear, her silky hair left to fall about her shoulders, its black shade gleaming in the moonlight. Draven heard her breath hitch as he turned to her, saw her pupils dilate despite the darkness. She gazed hungrily at the patch of bare chest she could see through his parted shirt, her eyes then quickly running down his muscular form. He too, looked her over. The flimsy excuse of a gown she was wearing loosely draped over her curves, leaving little to the imagination. It exposed most of her thighs and dipped at the neckline so her breasts were barely covered. As the dress