Claimed by the Beast(4)

He took her hand but she still couldn't look at him. Instead she bit her lip, trying not to let herself cry.

"I don't know what to tell you about that and I feel for you," he continued, "but it's time to move forward."

She could only shake her head as she wiped the back of one hand across her eyes.

"Look at me, Rachel."

She turned to him.

"Look around. Your house is a mess, you've lost too much weight, you're  hanging out with people that are no good for you, smoking pot, drinking,  and I don't know what else. What are you trying to do?"

Her face contorted in pain but she shook it off. "What am I trying to  do?" she started, her tone angrier than she expected it to be. She stood  to walk away but Elijah pulled her back down onto the sofa. "I'm trying  to fucking survive, Elijah. What does it matter to you anyway? Just go,  you don't have to be here feeling sorry for me. I'm fine."

"No, you're not fine."

She tried to pull her wrist free but he still held on to it, applying a little more pressure.

"Let me go!"

"Damn it, look at me, Rachel."

"What do you want with me?" she yelled, still trying to free herself.

"I didn't want to have to do this but I don't know how else to get through to you."

Before she could process what was happening, Elijah tugged at her arm, pulling her face down across his lap.

"What are you doing?" She yelled, kicking her legs, trying to free herself of this unexpected maneuver.

"I'm giving you what you need," he said, gripping both her wrists in one  hand and holding them at her low back while simultaneously laying one  leg over the backs of her knees, trapping her so that she lay with her  torso leaning over one side of his lap, her legs the other.                       
       
           



       

"Let me go!" she screamed, trying in vain to free herself. The sound of  his hand slapping her bottom hard stilled her momentarily. Then the pain  registered, and between that and the fact that he was spanking her, all  she could do was gasp for breath, unable to form words.

He struck again on her other cheek, then two more times and she resumed her attempts to free herself.

"I should have done this a long time ago, Rachel," he said, continuing to spank her.

"No, you should not have! Stop. You can't do this."

Without any ceremony at all, she felt Elijah's hand lift her nightshirt up to her low back.

"No!" she called out again. "Elijah!"

"I'm sorry, Rachel, but you need this and you're going to take it," he  said, his hands at the waistband of her panties now. "While Marcus isn't  here to do this for you, I'll fill in for him."

"He wouldn't! Please don't, Elijah. Not bare!"

But before the words were even out, he'd pulled her panties down to her  knees and he began to spank in earnest. The sound of his hand slapping  her bare bottom was loud and she knew she'd never forget that sound for  as long as she lived. Add to it the embarrassment of her situation as  well as the growing sting of her punishment as he struck the same spots  over and over again and she could barely manage the emotions that rose  up like a volcano from her throat.

"Cry, Rachel. Stop struggling and let yourself cry."

She fought harder at his words, determined to keep that eruption at bay  even as the fiery sting of blow after blow became harder and harder to  manage. He covered both cheeks, sometimes slapping twice or three times  in the same spot before moving on, sometimes spanking hard and fast on  alternating cheeks.

"You're really hurting me!" she yelled.

"Stop fighting and take it."

She was sure her bottom was bright red and couldn't decide what was  worse, the humiliating position, the idea of Elijah having taken her  panties down to her knees to spank her, or the pain of the spanking  itself. But when he started in on her thighs, she determined it was the  latter.

She made some sound as she tried to squirm around, no longer fighting  with the same zeal. Tears began to pour from her eyes. He seemed to  strike harder until she finally stopped struggling and allowed her body  to go limp over his lap.

She was grunting with each stroke now and sniffling as the crying turned  into all out sobbing. He released her hands but continued to spank her  and she brought one hand to the floor to support herself while with the  other, she wiped her face, trying to keep up with the onslaught of  tears.

"Good. Let it go, Rachel, just get it all out."

"I don't …  understand … " she was gasping for breath between sobs that now  racked her body, "why he left. Why he disappeared like that."

Elijah stopped at that. "Enough?" he asked, his voice gentle again.

She nodded and sniffled. He pulled up her panties and lifted her to sit next to him on the couch.

"I don't understand why he won't come back," she managed between sobs as  Elijah wiped the hair off her wet face. "And I don't know if he can  come back." At that she broke down fully and he hugged her to him. "I  mean …  if he could at least …  if I just knew."

"Shh, I know Rachel, I know. I can't hear him either," he said, holding her tight in his arms.

"I'm sorry for last night. I'm sorry I called Kayla to get me. I was being selfish and stupid and I knew you'd be so mad."

"Shh, I know you're sorry. It's okay, Rachel."

For the first time since she'd said goodbye to Marcus, Rachel let  herself feel the pain of his loss, she allowed herself to just give over  to it and cry and cry until finally, there weren't any tears left and  her body shook with every breath she tried to take. All the while,  Elijah held her until finally, she was able to pull back, having  regained herself.

"That hurt," she said, trying for a small smile.

Elijah smiled. "I imagine it did."

Her face grew very serious again. "Do you think he's dead?" she asked outright.

The expression on Elijah's face told her he was thinking what she was  thinking and somehow, even though she thought it impossible, more tears  filled her eyes.

"I don't know, Rachel," he said. "I feel like I would know but I don't. And you can't hear him either? Not at all?"

She shook her head. "Not for a long time."

They sat together for a few more minutes in silence, neither having words to comfort the other.                       
       
           



       

"Why don't you come over for dinner tonight? I'll come pick you up. Stay  with us for a while if you like. We can go up to the cabin for a few  days. I can work from there easily enough. Maybe a change will be good  for you. Good for all of us," he said.

"I have to work tonight but I have a few days off coming up. I'd like to go up there again, to the cabin I mean."

"All right. I'll arrange some things as well. Sunday then. I'll pick you up early, we'll head up there and spend a few days."

"Okay," she said, nodding, feeling a little better already, a little lighter.

"I don't think it's a great idea for you to hang out with that couple  you've been going out with," Elijah began, but she held up her hand to  stop him.

"I know that. I've known it for a long time. I won't see them again outside of work."

"Good. I'm glad to hear it," he said, standing. "You okay if I go?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Um … " she looked down for a moment, feeling a blush rise  to her cheeks. "Thank you but if you ever do …  that …  again, I'll kill  you," she said.

He smiled and pulled her in for another hug before kissing her forehead. "I'll spank you anytime you need it," he teased.

"Good to know," she managed when he let her go.

"Remember it then and don't earn another one."

"Yes, sir!" she said, saluting him with flair.

"And get this place cleaned up-it's a pigsty!"

"Neat freak."

"Slob."

"Don't you have to go?" she asked, the humor between them back again.

"Good bye," he said.

"Wait, where's your car?" she asked when he went to the back door instead of the front while stripping off his shirt.

"I didn't bring it."

She laughed. "Benefits of being a werewolf, I guess."

He chuckled and walked out the back door.





Chapter Three





Lance didn't realize it was so late-or early-until two other professors  from the university stepped off the elevator. He quickly moved to hide  the sample he was working on but the pair continued down the hall,  absorbed in their own conversation and not even glancing through the  glass windows into the lab.

He needed another half hour at most. He turned the lock on the door and  took out his bottle of pills. Cursing his reliance on them in order to  stop the shaking, he took another one, hopefully his last one, and  returned to his experiment.