Pawn Among Wolves Ch. 05

OUR ROPE'S BETTER.

Urgently, she looked up and saw three pale circles of faces shining in the soft moonlight, peering down from the window above. Thank god. One handed, she carefully tied the rope around the sheets already knotted to her midriff, and then grinned up at them. She kept her arms stretched wide, holding herself carefully between the windows by the edges as they began to haul her up, gently.

Three sets of hands reached to tug her easily over the windowsill into the echoing emptiness of a peculiarly bare classroom, and she smiled into the anxious, shining eager faces of her young rescuers as she met their eyes in turn in silent, heartfelt thanks. Megan had a finger to her lips. Then abruptly, the eyes of the tallest, James, snapped to jet black, glittering, and he leaped for her and hauled her against him, crushing her body to his as he rubbed a surging erection against the crease of her thighs and tangled his fingers in her hair to tug her head back and jam his lips ineptly against hers.

Frantically, she bit him, trying to break free from his strong, urgent hold, and he growled appreciatively and slid a hand over her arse to press her more firmly against him. Then Kyle got a head lock around his neck, and Megan forced an arm free and Gemma managed to wrench herself out of his hold, shirt tearing in his grasp as the others grappled him to the floor. The cubs rolled in a snarling, fighting heap across the wooden boards as Gemma yanked in all the slack in her sheet rope and scrambled, panicked and unnerved, back out of the window, hauling herself frantically up the rope, scrabbling slantwise to her own, open window.

A loud, desperate whine caused her to glance back and she saw Megan cuff a hard blow to the side of James' head as he hung out of the window, panting after her. The girl barked, "Snap out of it! The A'd kill you," as she shook her packmate.

Heart pounding, Gemma pulled herself back over the sill of her room, adrenaline tingling through her veins and unwanted lust writhing between her thighs. It was true.

Damn.

And the scent of the boy's arousal - eugh. Hot.

Damn. Eugh.

Her head was fighting her lust. James had smelt - delicious, achingly enticing.

He was fourteen at the most!! Revulsion shot back through her, a sour taste in her mouth.

No way. No way. And no way all those guards hovering panting in the hallway were having her either.

Mac? Why are you so damn far away?

Her skin shuddered and she flinched inwardly, even as her arousal pulsed between her thighs and her blood purred through her veins at the thought of him.

Shit shit shit.

What on earth was going to happen now? She could - just about - still control herself, her lust, with the fury in her head and the revulsion on her skin. But – tonight or tomorrow? – was it going to get worse? - it was already so hard. So damn hard to think - especially when that male scent had been in her nostrils, and James was just a boy, what about the guards? - her mind wouldn't be screaming pervert at her so loudly with them. Her arousal pulsed with a brief, internal image of the hard, chiselled contours of one of her guards. Dammit - eugh. Then memory of the furious glitter in a pair of green-black eyes curled through her and she shuddered, hard, in hot wanton desire. She wanted Mac, and they'd forbidden him to come to her. Dammit, she wanted Mac. Damnthem. They were so not going to do this - she was so not going to do this. She wasnot an unthinking animal.

Poisoned Mac. Her blood cooled at the chill of the thought, and her mind cleared somewhat. She had other stuff to worry about first.

Half an hour later, her hand was aching from the frantic copying – formula for Mac - and she folded the pages and stuffed them unsteadily into an envelope. The line was there, outside the window, and she hooked on the packet, zipped up her fleece and checked the rope for a last time as the flutter of white disappeared soundlessly up the cliff. The synthetic rope the kids had unearthed was much better than her makeshift version, and luckily she'd hauled it after her unthinkingly, swinging from her sheets like a very long tail during her frantic scramble to escape James' hug. Gemma climbed much less cautiously out of the window this time, and began to slide expertly down the rope past layer upon layer of lighted windows.

Below the jut of the vast Marshmont complex, the cliff curved in, then outward to a ledge just wide enough to hold her, trailing back towards the steep, wooded hillside abutting the sheer sandstone face. Gemma checked for a better option, but she was running out of rope, and so gingerly untied the knot and set off edging carefully along the rough surface. Ten minutes later she broke into a loping trot down the rough path through the trees between the road and the cliff. Trying to outrun a wolfpack in the woods - idiocy, but better than waiting in her rooms for them to come and find her. Fuck her. The damned liquid at the join of her thighs was unceasing.

But her blood was up. Damn them. There was something heating about this chase - she wasn't going to let any of them to catch her. Not one of them.

Some hours later, as the weak morning sun began to peer out over the mountains, she limped, hot and panting, down the last foothill towards the base of this damned endless mountain. She could hear the faint rumble of occasional traffic down there, in the trees, and it gave her hope. She peered longingly down at the deep pool to her right- the stream had crossed under the road and the path hours ago, and that was the last drink she'd had. For hours it had splashed enticingly down dangerous, damp precipices to her right, and then, at last -here - it landed in that delicious, accessible giant cup.

She hesitated, and glanced back for the thousandth, millionth time.

A flicker of movement in the distant trees, the glimmer of sunlight glinting on fur, and her heart jolted in fear, in fury. Oh look - she could still run, flat out, precariously down the steep path. Gemma glanced back again at a bend and this time she could see a glint of black eyes, and further back, more rippling fur. She tore a short, strong branch up from the pine floor just before she shot out onto the asphalt of the woods road, and stretched her legs further, faster, away, furious to feel a new surge of tenderness pooling between her thighs. Her damned body didn't want her damaged for lack of lubrication, even if she hated the thought of being caught by one of these panting prowlers. Welcome to the animal kingdom.

They werenot going to catch her. Damn Mac. Damn heat.

Sooner than expected, she heard pounding feet and hot breath closing behind her, and spun to face her pursuer, hefting her staff. He slowed to a halt two metres away, and began slowly, meaningfully, to circle her, dark fur ruffled in tension, panting deeply, eyes aflame and intent in every hair. Gemma swallowed, keeping her eyes coldly fixed on his, turning slowly within his boundary to keep pace.

He was slightly closer now, upwind, and the damn lubrication was pooling between her thighs as his musk drifted down to her. Her damn body knew she couldn't win this, and she felt a shudder of submission in her belly even as her mind snarledno. Then he was downwind, the gleam in his eyes shimmering as his mouth opened and he began to breathe more deeply, drawing her scent into his nostrils, trembling.

Suddenly he spun swiftly on the spot and leapt to meet the attack of a second, smoky wolf who was diving from the trees. The musk of their arousal rolled over Gemma as the pair tumbled past her in a brawling, tearing roll, and she trembled at the fire in her blood. The spike of anger at herself shot through her and she exploded back into a sprint down the road. Dammit, no. She was not a wolf. And whatever she currently was, only Mac was allowed to touch her. Although she was also damned angry with him for making her smell this sexy then leaving her with these rutting dogs.

By the time she reached the bottom, muscles screaming at her flatout pace, softly pounding feet were closing in swiftly behind her again and she could hear hot, panting breaths. She'd lost her stick in a lurch of unsteady footing, and now just sprinted headlong, despairing, out across the wide road in the early morning sunlight. A screech of tires sounded to her left and she felt a breath of slipstream, heard a startled oath as a deep-voiced motorbike swerved around in front of her and skidded to a halt, just before a heavy weight hit her between her shoulder blades and tumbled her, bruisingly hard, across the metalled surface. Razor sharp teeth closed precisely in her waistband and her jeans were ripped to her knees before Gemma realised. yelled and twisted over, aiming a kick at the dark wolf's nose. He dodged easily and pounced on her again, sticking his nose between her thighs and eagerly snuffling her wet scent as his teeth closed delicately on her panties.

They tore as the wolf spun to dodge a heavy boot aiming at his ribs, howled furiously and gathered himself in a deadly crouch to leap at the burly biker facing him, then abruptly stilled as he saw the handgun aiming between his eyes.

"Don't!" gasped Gemma, rolling to her knees and grabbing the biker's thigh. "He can't help it!"If he felt anything like she did.

"Gotta shoot a rabid mutt, miss. He's crazy."

"He's not rabid, he's -," the biker interrupted her with a screaming yell and dropped the gun as a set of razor-sharp teeth clenched over his wrist, the second, smoky wolf answering the call of a pack member above mating lust.

Gemma staggered dazedly to her feet as the two wolves, snarling, began to drag the struggling man toward the ditch at the side of the road. "And don't you two hurt him for helping me, either!" she yelled furiously after them. Then she froze as two lust maddened, heated pairs of black eyes turned back to her, glowing.Was she nuts?

Gemma spun and dove for the still-purring bike propped on the kickstand, landing with a moan straddled on her aching, throbbing clit as she kicked into gear and twisted the throttle into a neck-snapping roar of movement off the stand. The leather of the seat behind her ripped under razor claws and hot breath shivered on the back of her neck just as the powerful machine shrieked into speed. Gemma felt the heavy four-legged pillion behind her tumble off as she desperately clamped her hold around the bars and clung on, gasping for air, breathless as she streaked away down the road with tears rolling down her cheeks in the cooling breeze. Her incredulous brain demandedwhyshe had been defending that ravaging beast. But her stomach knew, somewhere in the churning mass of lust, fury and anxiety, that the dark one had been careful not to hurt her. Those teeth had been so precise. Fuck him. Fuck Madam – she was the one behind this setup.

Gemma crouched low over the bike, trembling as she twisted the throttle, faster. Away. Away from them all.

Shit. Shit. Shit. How long did this damned heatlast? Two days? Five? More?

Thanks again so much for all the comments, good and bad – especially to Little Pixel for the request for more background description – I always know exactly where they are but yup, guilty, not very good at detailing that, so I've tried harder. And thanks and apologies to Jamac1024, your critique was very clear and helpful – yes, my writing style is disjointed when writing disjointed feelings, which seems to be a lot of the time when writing for Gemma, it's usually Mac's fault. But I've at least tried to finish her sentences this time unless she's interrupted, don't know if that'll help.

Sorry I can't answer everyone's comments individually, but thanks for all support and feedback!