Claimed by the Beast(7)

"Oh, God … " she managed when he took hold of her nub. Her ass was full  with the plug, her pussy with his cock, and his hand now dealt roughly  with her clit. She was going to come. That or lose her mind.

"Don't come until I'm inside your ass."

"Yes, sir," she squeaked.

"Put your hands up against the wall and walk your hips back a little,"  he said, still inside her, still moving slowly, sliding the length of  his cock deep inside her then pulling out, then in again. She put her  hands on the wall and moved backward, keeping him inside her as she did.

"Good girl. God, you've got a great ass, baby," he said, taking hold of  the plug and teasing her with it then slowly pulling it out altogether.  "Are you ready for me to fuck your ass?"

"Yes, sir. Yes, please."

With that, he pulled his now slick cock out of her pussy and pressed it  into her back hole. Resistance was minimal as the plug had prepared the  way, but his cock was bigger, thicker, and longer. She pressed against  him, loving the feel of his fullness there, especially as one hand still  worked her clit. She lifted her hips to him, giving herself to him,  opening to him, accepting the pain as he penetrated deeply, relishing  that pain, knowing that as she gave this part of herself to him, so she  gave her whole self. She belonged to him and she would take the pain he  gave her along with the pleasure.

When he had penetrated fully, he stopped moving for a moment, allowing  her time to adjust to his size. He then began to pump in and out, slowly  at first, then gaining speed, holding onto her hips tightly, his  fingers digging into her, spreading her wider as he fucked her harder,  until they both called out with the final thrusts, her muscles clenching  around his cock, milking it, drawing everything he had inside her.





Chapter Five





Lance sat behind his desk looking at the computer screen but seeing  nothing. His mind was busy going over the events of the last months. It  had been just over eight weeks since he'd injected himself with the  serum and since then, he had taken lesser doses of the stuff weekly. It  had been four weeks since he'd stopped taking his Parkinson's  medication. Four weeks and he felt stronger than he had twenty years ago  when he was in the prime of his youth. He smiled, scanning the room  around him. He barely needed to wear his glasses anymore. Even his  vision was sharper, almost too sharp sometimes. Aside from the  occasional sudden, intense pain and vertigo he experienced, the  experiment was a success and he hoped that soon enough, he wouldn't need  to take the serum at all. The Parkinson's was in decline. Truly, it was  gone altogether. His doctor would say it was a miracle. But he wasn't  ready for that step just yet. He needed to give it more time.

There were two things that worried him: this strange pain and the  nightmares he had been having. The pain would come on suddenly, without  the slightest warning. It only lasted a few moments, but lately he would  need to lie down or at least close his eyes for some time to recover.  It was a blinding, sharp pain that seemed to sit just behind his eyes,  filling his ears with a ringing that was unbearable for the brief  moments it lasted. Though those moments were brief, the episodes were  coming more frequently and that was what worried Lance.

The nightmares were a different story. He had had four this week. Three  the week before. At first, they'd been small segments of a dream.  Gradually, he began waking in different parts of the house without any  knowledge of how he got there. One morning, he had woken with red  stained hands. That had frightened him the most but when he had gone  downstairs, he found the cause of the red. It was blood from the  remnants of a raw steak he had found on the counter. The meat had been  torn as if someone had bitten savagely from it. Pieces were strewn about  and the kitchen was in disarray. He had no memory of how he had done it  but had no doubt that it must have been him; all doors and windows were  locked and nothing else had been disturbed. The thought that he had  eaten the raw meat would have turned his stomach not two months before,  but in a strange way, that fact didn't bother him like he thought it  should. It didn't make sense, but it just didn't bother him.                       
       
           



       

The phone on his desk rang and brought him back to the present.

"This is Professor Weston," he said, picking it up.

"Good morning Lance, it's John. John Dennison."

Dr. John Dennison owned Wayne Laboratories, the same lab who had funded  the initial research Philip and then Eric Maddox had been working on  before Maddox's obsession with breeding the shifters came into play.  Dennison wasn't interested in that part. He was only interested in what  would make him rich. Or richer. And that was Lance's serum, the one that  would cure this disease and who knew how many others.

"I've arranged for everything you need, Lance, and I'd like to start  testing the cure as soon as possible. I'd like for you to relocate out  here, at least for the time being. Let's get this drug perfected and on  the market fast."

Lance heard him take a sip of his drink.

"Help save some lives," Dennison added. An afterthought.

"I'm anxious myself, John. How about the middle of next week? I have to  tie up some loose ends here, free myself up for the next few months."

There was a knock on the door and Judy peeked her head inside. Lance nodded for her to enter.

"All right, I'll have my secretary arrange your flights. She'll be in touch later today," Dennison said.

"Great. Looking forward to working with you," Lance said.

"Same."

The men hung up the phone and Lance turned his attention to Judy who  stood nervously at the threshold of the door holding a file. He looked  at her, his gaze running the length of her for maybe the first time  since she'd started interning at the lab. She wasn't a wholly  unattractive girl. In fact, today she looked more than a little  interesting to him.

"Come in and close the door, Judy," Lance said.

"I hope I wasn't interrupting, Professor," she replied as she entered  and closed the door behind her. She was nervous, he could hear it in her  tone. It made one side of his mouth go up into an almost smile.

"Did you find the file I was looking for?" he asked as she made her way  to his desk, the click of her heels too loud, his every sense heightened  since the day he'd taken the serum.

"Yes, sir," she began. She continued talking but he stopped listening to  her words, hearing only the tone of her voice, like an annoying,  constant buzz. But when she came to stand on the other side of the desk  and he took a breath, he rose to his feet. Her scent drew him. Although  he had never been sexually attracted to her, today something was  different and his cock stirred. He knew instantly what that scent was:  she was ovulating.

"Thank you, Judy," he said, coming around the desk, reaching out to take  the file from her. His hand touched hers and he stepped just a little  closer. Just close enough to make her uncomfortable. "How long have you  been interning here now?" he asked, walking around her, keeping inches  from her. She remained still, not turning with him. Her heartbeat had  picked up, he could hear it. She was nervous and he liked it.

"Just over four months, Professor."

He stood behind her and inhaled once more.

"You work an awful lot of hours, sometimes even beating me in. Does it interfere with your studies?"

He watched her throat work as she swallowed. "I …  no, sir. I like my work  here." She turned to look at him over her shoulder. "I feel honored to  work with you, Professor. You've taught me so much."

He smiled, dropping his gaze to her chest, hovering there while he knew  she watched. Her breasts were plump, full, her skin pale and soft  beneath the lab coat she wore. He made a sound and returned his gaze to  hers to find her dark, unremarkable eyes wide on his.

"What about your boyfriend, Judy? Doesn't he mind you spending so many  hours here with a boring old professor rather than with him?"

"I don't have a boyfriend, sir," she said shyly, looking down as her cheeks flushed red.

He walked backwards to the door and turned the lock. When she heard it, her panicked gaze returned to his.

"I don't believe that," he said, walking back toward her quickly before  she could say anything. "You're a very pretty girl," he lied. She stood  still when he touched the backs of two knuckles to her neck and reached  to unbutton the first button of her lab coat. "Nice little figure under  here, I'm guessing?" he said, smiling, his eyes on hers, daring her to  stop him.

She did not, could not, he imagined. He stepped even closer once the  coat was undone. She was small and he towered over her. He liked the  feel of that, the idea of his largeness next to her small, weak,  feminine body. He slid the coat off her shoulders and brought his face  to hers, his mouth to hers. She remained as she was, her hands at her  sides, but she allowed him to kiss her and gasped when, after the kiss,  his tongue flicked over her lips once more before he took her lower lip  between his and sucked, nibbling just a little although his mouth  watered at the idea of biting her hard enough to draw blood.