CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

RILEY

“Come on in.”

My cheeks spread in a big broad smile. Goose pimples engulfing my skin from both his voice and the cold air of the night. The cold air that reminds me of the cold I had endured while pouring water that Theresa had gotten me, on myself, behind the house. To get clean.

Jude’s hesitation earlier had scared me. After that grumble, it had gotten so quiet in there, like my presence had brought sleep to him.

I was so close to leaving.

I am Luna.

I twist the knob and place my barefoot on the polished wooden floor of the room, one after the other. I avoid looking at him as I turn to shut the door behind me.

Without blinking, I turn and strike that pose. My right hand flies to cup the back of my head, this raises the dress higher, but I ignore it and move my left hand to perch on my hip. I can’t remember if it’s right leg forward and left leg backward. Or the other way round. So I follow my instincts.

I take my right forward and place it ahead of my left leg, which I put no weight in and leave it behind on a tiptoe.

I have added some weight, as eating has become the highlight of my days after I resumed living in Jude’s kitchen, so I hope just smooth succulent flesh is showing on my revealed skin.

Not bones.

After taking great effort to stand still in that position, I let my eyes roam free about the room in search of Jude.

There he sat like a Greek god, perched on the left side of the bed which has the mountain of scrolls still intact. He has his bare feet on the floor and…oh my goodness, his shirt is nowhere in sight.

Barefoot and bare-chested. Perfect. Right?

But his eyes are not on me. They are fixed on the writings on the scroll he has in his hand. He is fully aware that I am in this room, but...Is he intentionally avoiding me?

“Jude.” My courage is at its peak tonight. I will not be fazed by his momentary distraction. I have a plan to carry out, and he has to look at me for me to proceed to the next step.

My back hurts from fighting to stay still in this posture.

It is the first time I am calling him by his name in his presence. And this, he is aware of too.

I register his shock and he goes still and erect, his palms gripping the scroll harder. Then I watch his eyes slowly travel. From the words on the paper, to the floor, it pauses on my feet, probably confused by the position it is in, then after taking what seems like forever, those blues finally land on my face.

Step two in motion.

I look into those captivating eyes and flutter my eyelids, flapping them in the most seductive way I can, just like Theresa did.

I had no mirror to view my expression at the time Theresa had performed this for me but now, as I read Jude’s from his face, my confidence is almost lost.

Almost.

Right before my eyes I see his expression and mood shift from nothing to confused, then to irritated, and finally amused. He has nose scrunched, his eyebrows raised and his closed lips spread in an awkward smile.

Along with the laughter I see in his eyes, I see a glimmer of interest.

And that is all I need.

I relief myself from that painful position, the brace myself for the walk to him. I have never walked in such way before, and I’m not sure if I’ll be good at it, but here we go.

Right in front of left, left in front of right, palms cupping both sides of my waist that I sway with effort, eyes still on his, head held high is how I walk towards this beautiful man that has his whole attention now fixed on me. Half way towards him, he returns the scroll to its stack, then, still sitting, turns his whole body to face me.

I continue the walk to him, looking all calm and collected while my heart rate is at a hundred beats per second. Panic is the only thing I feel within.

But there is no room for that tonight.

My walk ends when I get right in front of him. I make sure to stand at arm’s reach to make me accessible for the ‘grabbing’.

Then I strike the pose again. I watch with my seductive eyes as his big smile gets bigger and bigger, then to a burst of loud laughter.

I am taken aback by that reaction. Anger, disgust, affection, awe, satisfaction, and a hundred more reactions are what I expected. This is in no way part of the reaction I expected or needed.

Not loud open mouthed head thrown back laughter.

Not that.

Before I can start feeling weird, Theresa’s word come replaying in my head. She had said that they might get amused but they like it.

So this is progress.

I stand in that very uncomfortable, very awkward position and watch him have his laugh with tears in his eyes. Was all this that funny?

Enough with the laughter. This is the part where you grab me. I scream in my head, but focus on keeping my eyes as seductive as they can be.

“Oh goodness. I needed that comic relief.” He says between laughter, while wiping tears off his eyes.

Comic relief.

Comic relief?

I put a lot of effort in all this.

Wait. I know why. I’m forgetting one important part of all this. No wonder he finds this funny.

“Jude darling.”

The still remaining laughter stops abruptly, and all smile vanishes from his face. Totally.

He stays still, staring at me like I have grown three heads. That must have shocked him. Well, it shocked me too. I don’t why my brain and mouth had chosen Theresa’s own words. I could have used my own endearment for him, but hers had sounded so natural coming out of her lips. Too natural.

I don’t care whose endearment I give to him, as far as it produces results, I’m good with it.

And this, with the look of shock on his face and his stiff stance, is result.

“My big strong Alpha.” I hear this come out from my mouth.

Where did the shy sweet innocent go to? Who is this naughty bold girl?

A smile and a look of comprehension replaces the confused look on his face.

“Big, huh? Oh baby.” His voice comes out hoarse and there is now heat in his eyes. I look beneath those blues and see hunger.

He called me baby!

See? Progress.

I can be anything he wants me to be at this moment. Since Theresa says this is the most important thing to do to win a man’s heart, I’ll do it. To win this man’s heart.

“I know want you want.”

I want your heart.

“You come in here looking like a wrapped winter gift in that slutty dress of yours to get it right?”

I ignore the biting pain in my back from standing this way for this long ad focus on the beautiful words falling from his beautiful mouth.

My eyes leave his mouth and follow his hands as they move to the front part of his thick trousers.

Hmm?

“This big strong Alpha knows what you want. And he will be generous enough to fill you up with it. Ill fill your dirty rat mouth with my cum and you are expected to swallow every single drop of it. On your knees, girl.”

Wait, what?

I remember him saying this is how he likes to be pleased, but will this make him like me? Love me? Does this affect his thoughts towards me? Does this count?

“Riley. That’s my name.” I hear myself say, still riding on the high of my nerves.

Who is this? Because it is definitely not me. And can someone please tap her and tell her to keep quiet for now?

“Who cares? I don’t care if you bare the name of an insect or if your parents used your name as an insult to each other. I can’t care less. You made me hard, and you will take care of it. Now I won’t repeat myself. On your knees.” He is using his Alpha authoritative voice on me. That voice you can’t say no to.

I hate how demeaning this act is. It makes me feel less. Never knew I could feel less than already feel of myself until that day he had that thing in my mouth.

I admit, hearing him grunt, moan and say all those nasty words to me made me feel powerful that though I was the one on my knees, I was in control of his mood and pleasure. But that didn’t compensate how dirty I felt when he released that hot sticky liquid into my mouth and urged me to swallow.

I hated it.

But he likes it.

On my knees I go.

I flinch as the tender skin of my knees hit the hard floor. I have been feeling pains all over my joint since last night. And it’s nothing new, as I know what it stands for.

Just like my breast gets heavy as a sign whenever it’s that time of the month for my monthly bleeding, so does my joints, knees and wrist specifically begins to hurt as a signal to my body that it will soon be full moon and it should get ready for shifting.

I have always seen this sign as unnecessary as it just serves as the warning that inevitable pain is coming. I don’t know if everyone feels the same, but shifting for me it so painful. More painful than cramps.

This hard floor I am kneeling on does nothing to reduce the pain on my knees, instead in increases it, making me wince as my knees gets in contact with it.

“I’ve been thinking about the sweet slutty mouth since the last time I had my dick in it.”

He has?

“Been dreaming of it.”

“You’ll kiss me?” the confidence put into saying this is lost in the voice used in saying it. My voice is small and unsure, packed with persuasion and hope.

He grabs my jaw roughly in his big palm, squeezing my mouth. “This dirty rat mouth is meant for my dick. Only.”

He releases me, and continues the task of opening his zipper. Then that big long thick flesh shoot out, almost slapping me in the face.

I almost begin to wonder, in panic, how this thing would fit in my mouth, till I remember that I have done it successfully before.

In as much as I hate being a complainer, there is a loud very vocal part of my brain that keeps reminding me that I don’t like this, and it won’t just shut up.

But I ignore it.

And without waiting for any further directions, I grab it with my left fist and take him deep into my mouth, provoking my gag reflex.

I gag.

He grunts.

Maybe if I took this faster and made it feel good, maybe he’ll agree to kiss me, and take me into his arms. Maybe he’ll tell me he loves me.

Maybe.

But at the end of it all, I am back in the kitchen with a burning throat, an aching knee, and shattered hopes.

The operation was futile.

RYAN

Seeing her on that red sexy thing made me go hard.

Instantly.

Through the opening in that kitchen, I watched her sway her hips, checking herself out with uncertainty in her eyes.

Who made her uncertain?

Him.

She was dressing up to look pretty for him.

I watched her walk towards the direction of his room, with slow unsure steps.

Who made her unsure?

Him.

Now I watch her walking back into that damn kitchen, my lycan view helping me see the look on her face.

She looks dejected. Sad. Very.

Guess who made her sad?

Him.

Now give me one reason why she shouldn’t wake up tomorrow from her beauty sleep and see his head on a saucer placed right before her.

A gift from me.