I was speechless from the mental picture of him hot and heavy and grunting on top of me, dredging up painful memories of my time with Dylan. Fear sliced through my body in time with his knife. I think I’d prefer Angie and the blade. If I survived this, he’d pay with a lot of pain. I’d let my wolf track him, my mountain lion play with him before ripping him apart, and my falcon carry the bits and pieces left over to smash against the rocks. The seagulls could fight over his remains. Keep those thoughts close.
“Do you understand?” The man leaned back, sniffing the air and considering every subtle movement of my body.
“Yes.”
“Will you answer my questions?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He reached over and dropped the knife in favor of a different one. This one was a scalpel. It looked like something I used in Biology class back in high school, except this one had no cracks or rust. At least I could cross out tetanus as a torture possibility.
“You have such beautiful lips.” The man leaned in again. His breath steamed up my face. I shut my eyes when the scalpel tip pressed against the corner of my mouth.
A thudding knock at the door rocked the silence of the room. I jumped. Or at least tried to—the straps held me down. The scalpel nicked the soft tissue at the corner up my mouth and I yelped. I tasted blood and my eyes watered at the sting.
The man cursed and straightened from his hunched position over me. “What?” he demanded at the closed door.
A muffled response filtered into the room.
“Fucking sound proofing.” The man chucked his scalpel onto the tray. The look of disgust caused his lip to curl up in a sneer. “Why anyone would want to muffle the exquisite sounds of someone’s pain is beyond me.”
The muffled knock came again.
“Open the fucking door you halfwit,” the man spat at Angie.
Angie jumped and stumbled to the door, flinging it open. A large male Wereleopard stood on the other side of the doorway, his skin deeply tanned and his arms rippled with muscle. From the way he stood with a slightly diminutive posture, easy to spot for a supe versed in Were dynamics, he was a sub. He looked at Angie with a question in his eyes and she replied by shaking her head in the slightest of movements.
“Well? What do you want?” Hyena Piss Man snarled at the Wereleopard.
“Master Monroe wishes to speak with you.”
“Wishes or wants?” The man asked as he toyed with my hair.
“Pardon, sir?”
“Was it a request or an order? Do I have to go right away?”
“I believe so, sir.”
“You believe?” The man yanked my hair so my head lifted off the table. “I’m busy. If I’ve been dragged away to speak with Monroe on an issue that could’ve waited, I will be displeased.”
The Wereleopard looked nonplused. “If it was a matter that could have waited, I doubt Master Monroe would request your presence.”
The man glared at the Wereleopard.
The leopard shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.”
“You forget, cat. Monroe isn’t my master. He can’t order me around, like he does you.”
“Which is why I believe he phrased it as a request.”
The man clutched my hair near the scalp and used it to slam my head against the table. The room sank and closed in on itself.
“It has to be important, because he wouldn’t interrupt you. Not when he knows how much you enjoy your…” The leopard trailed off, averting his eyes from the table and my strapped, vulnerable body.
Fetish? Hobby? I would’ve been unsure how to classify the man’s perversion as well.
The Werehyena turned toward Angie. “Don’t leave the room and don’t touch her or unstrap her.” He turned toward the door, but stopped and snapped his fingers “And leave the door open. I want the men who walk by to witness her humiliation.” He walked back to the table and leaned down. Using his body weight and Were strength, he swung the table around on its wheels so I could look down my body to the open door. Anyone looking in would get a view meant only for lovers and my gynecologist.
“Mmmm. Feel that, Angie? That anger? That mortification? Can you smell it?”
“Yes,” Angie bit out. The burning scent of anger hopping around the room emanated from her and her pridemate as well, not just me.
Hyena Piss Man turned to me before leaving the room with the other Wereleopard. “Maybe I should let the men take you. One by one. Would you like that?”
“No.” Not sure how I managed speech with the images of Dylan strangling my throat with invisible hands.
Dylan’s powerful frame built for intimidation hovered over me. He savored the air, my scent laced with his personal aphrodisiac of trepidation and terror. I’d loved this man. I chose him.