The Alpha's Foe (A Paranormal Shifter Romance) (Billionaire Alpha)

Also by Trina Rossi:

The Alpha's D
esires
(books 1-4 of the series)

The Alpha's Lover
(the fifth story in the Billionaire Alpha Series, now available)

The Lives of Vallis the Impaler
(An erotic Vampire Tale)

For more, see the back of the book ;)

The stocks were a modernized version of the wooden device which had occasionally been used to restrain and punish Sophie’s ancestors when they were accused of witchcraft and shape-shifting. With the original design, the victim’s head was put through a large hole in the wooden plank’s center while the wrists were encased in two smaller holes to either side.

Though it conjured thoughts of the cruelty
and humiliation inflicted on her kin, Sophie enjoyed her modern toy. She was particularly liking using it now as Tristan circled her.

She was sitting on a wooden stool, naked. The seat was a ring of oak with its center cut out. Its three legs were splayed outward, giving Tristan enough room to get his head and shoulders, or other body parts, underneath it.

Sophie’s wrists were imprisoned within holes in one two-piece wooden plank, her chest pushed forward so that her breasts emerged from two central holes. The top and bottom were separate pieces, the top lowered to secure itself to the bottom with a padlock.

She had asked Tristan to blindfold her
after locking her in place, and he did so, so that she wouldn’t know where he would touch her next. He shifted into wolf form and padded silently around her as she sat, rigid, on her uncomfortable stool, in anticipation of whatever was to come.

Tristan moved in front of her and stared at her form. She was beautiful, thin,
athletic. Tanned. Her breasts were white, though, and her nipples pink. He stood before her and shifted back into human form. He put a finger on each nipple and felt her jerk back in surprise. She couldn’t go anywhere, however; he had wrapped a strap around her back that ensured that she would remain pressed into the hard wood.

Now, he unzipped his pants. Breathing heavily, he approached her right breast, cock in hand. He began to tease her nipple with its tip, which was glistening with the clear liquid that seeps out with the expectation of further arousal.

Sophie’s lips curled up in a grin in spite of herself. She meant to behave as though she were frightened, but the intense pleasure was too much. A moment later, though, she managed to return her facial expression to the gravity that she felt was appropriate.

Without saying it explicitly, she was trying to teach Tristan. To be strong, to dominate. To be an alpha. She’d realized over time that he submi
tted to her more often than not.
She
ran the show. He needed to learn to put personal feelings of pride and anger aside and to rule with his head, or he would never lead a pack. He would never successfully defeat the current alpha, for whom he felt nothing but rage and disdain.

Now, in her
feigned vulnerable state, Sophie wanted him to rule her. To do anything he wished to her, knowing that she would be helpless to resist. She had supplied him with gear: a horse crop. Lit candles which he could employ to drip hot wax on her. Glass cups, meant to be heated up and applied to the skin, which created a sort of hot suction. The bliss of burning. Secretly, she hoped for searing heat. But she left the decisions to Tristan. He needed to learn to take over.

Tristan found himself enjoying looking at Sophie’s breasts, constrained in this way. He could see that she loved it too; her nipples were firm and long, begging to be sucked. And he wanted to get on his knees and to do just that, but he knew that this wasn’t about her pleasure. He forced himself away.

He walked over to the table, where he looked at the items she’d left for him. At first, he picked up the riding crop, and then thought, “No. Too dull.” He put it down again.

He took two of the cups and held them over the open flame of the candle, heating their rims. He had never done anything like this, and it seemed cruel. What if he scarred her beautiful, smooth skin? And yet it was her idea. He would try it and see where things went.
He picked up the cups and candle.

He approached her again,
heating the inside of one cup with the small flame. He pressed it over her left breast. Its flesh seemed to grow to meet the glass, her nipple advancing with the bit of suction that was created.

“
Oooh,” she said, smiling again. She was pleased at his choice. The heat wasn’t extreme, but enough to give her intense pleasure.

Tristan did the same to the other breast, then he pulled at one cup, and it suck
ed her breast outward. He began to manipulate it, seeing that the lack of air between it and her breast had created a strong vacuum. Sophie’s pussy was dripping wet now. She wished she could see her tits.

Tristan pulled at the other now, rotating both gently. Sophie squirmed in her makeshift seat.

Finally, he pulled each off gently. Her nipples were long and hard, and he couldn’t resist any longer. He crouched down and took one between his lips. He sucked on it hard, pulling it further from her body. With his hand he pulled the other.

He rose and walked behind her. This stool, now…what was he supposed to do about it?

He lay on his back on the floor and slid under her. He found himself staring up at a shaved pink pussy which was coated in wetness. He put an exploratory hand up and massaged it gently. It felt good, thought Sophie, but he was pleasuring her. This was not the plan. Still, she allowed it. He had good hands and knew how to stroke a cunt.

Then she felt his tongue. He had pushed himself up onto his elbows and was eating her clit, licking her cream. He slipped three fingers inside her as he did so and felt her tense around them. He chewed gently on her flesh.

He wanted her to come; he loved making her feel good. But she stopped him.

“Tristan,” she said gently. “You’re too nice.”

He stopped. He felt frustrated, even a little embarrassed. Either he was too angry and violent or too nice. Which was it? The fact was that he couldn’t bring himself to be cruel to Sophie. Now, her voluptuous friend Dez. He could see taking a crop to her. He’d like to bend her over, and…

“
Unfasten me, would you?” Sophie interrupted his thoughts.

Annoyed
with himself, Tristan rose from his spot on the floor. He undid the strap securing Sophie to the stocks and then opened the wooden prison which trapped her hands. Her breasts still had red circles of heat on them, which would no doubt remain for hours.

Sophie stood and removed the blindfold. Tristan looked at her sleek body and his cock twitched.

“Now, now,” she said, approaching him and giving its round tip a squeeze. “Your time will come.”

She headed to the stairs and left the basement. Tristan stood still, muttering, “What the fuck?”

He followed her up eventually, hoping that they would end up in her bedroom. He found her dressing herself, though, in jeans and a sweater.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“I think we’ve done enough for now.” She looked at him and smiled reassuringly. She could sense that she’d just injured his confidence. But she was a little annoyed with him, too. Why couldn’t he take charge? Even when she’d left the basement he could have stopped her. He was large and strong, and yet he hesitated with her. As though he was too weak.

“I need to get some work done,” said Sophie as she approached him. “Big case on Monday.” She kissed his cheek. “Why don’t you come back tonight?”

He smiled finally. “Okay.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “I thought that maybe you were mad at me.”

“Do I have a reason to be mad?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well then, I’m not mad.”

She saw Tristan to the door and said good-bye. Then she went into her small office. Her Witch’s spellbook sat undisturbed in a desk drawer.

Sophie sat at the desk and extracted the book. She’d decided to take matters into her own hands. If Tristan couldn’t defeat the alpha, perhaps she could.

She searched for spells to weaken a foe. She found nothing helpful, except for a fear spell which would apparently weaken even the strongest man to some extent.

Her plan was to have Tristan challenge
Jace again, but this time, for Tristan to be ready for what was to come. He didn’t have to know that she’d cast a spell on Jace. Hell, he didn’t even know that she was a witch, or that she was also capable of shifting into wolf form. All in due time, she thought. Tristan might feel threatened by her power, her strength.

She began to put her plan into action. When Tristan returned to see her that night, she would talk to him. They would arrange a challenge and she would join him when the time came. She would also make sure that
Dez knew what was happening; no doubt the alpha’s mate would want to be there to watch the altercation.

Sophie closed the book, placed it back in the drawer and smiled.

Dez was still suffering the torment of her recurring nightmare, the one in which she was tied up in the woods and a large she-wolf was clawing at her helpless form. Her boyfriend Jace had advised her to try and stay in the realm of the dream; to try and understand who the she-wolf represented, and what the threat was. “Remember,” he had said, “It’s only a dream.” Still, when Dez was in its midst it felt terribly real.

When she
’d first experienced it, she’d always awakened after a point when the wolf clawed at her, and, half-naked, she found herself surrounded by an entire pack of gigantic wolves. Now she was learning to control it. Though she couldn’t begin the dream’s events sooner, she could hold off waking up until she’d witnessed more. It was difficult, though, because with each dream came more sadness.

The she-wolf paced in front of her. It had clawed at her, tearing her shirt. She was exposed to the cold and to the glowing eyes of the pack, her round breasts dripping with blood. Though she was wounded, all the cuts were superficial and she knew that the wolf only intended to instill fear in her.

Blood trickled down from a slash about her right nipple and coloured the pink flesh red. Dez entreated the wolf to stop, to let her go, but the leather straps around her wrists and ankles seemed only to grow tighter. Her legs were yanked apart, the trees seeming to sway in opposite directions in order to force even more separation between them. Whereas Dez had been happily tied up in bed at times by Jace, now she felt vulnerable, weak. Why wasn’t her alpha here to defend her?

When the wolves came out of the trees towards her, they stopped behind the female, as if awaiting her command. She appeared to be the alpha, and this was something that hadn’t occurred to
Dez before---that there could even
be
a female alpha.

Finally, a large dark wolf emerged from the woods. His eyes flashed in the moonlight. It was
Jace. He stood still, growling, and Dez felt relief. As though he could free her. He could vanquish this awful female. And yet something held him back. It was as though there was an invisible wall between them.

He lunged at last, and in three strides he was at the she-wolf’s neck. But she saw him coming. She was ready.

Dez shot up in bed, sweating as always after the nightmare.

Jace
sat up next to her and put an arm around her.

“You all right, sweet thing?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She was breathing heavily but she remained under control. “I really wanted to see more. You were there, Jace. It was you.”

“What happened?”

“You came out of the woods and attacked her. The gray wolf. Only I didn’t see what happened after that. All I know is that she knew you were coming. It’s almost as if she wanted you to.”

“And well she may. But I’d be prepared for that, too.”

“I don’t understand, though. She seemed to be the alpha.”

“I suppose that could happen,” said
Jace. “Though it’s not very likely. As I’ve said, there are no females around these parts. But remember that werewolves and normal wolves are a little different. Normally the alpha male is the father to a lot of the pups. Our pack isn’t about breeding.”

“Hmm. She’d have to be awfully strong to fight my man and win,” said
Dez, who lay back down.

“Yes, she would.”
Jace looked down at her face with his light eyes. Then his gaze drifted to her breasts, which were sticking out over the sheet. “Why do you have to distract me with your perfect tits? We were having a serious conversation.”

“I’m sorry,” said
Dez, pushing them together with her upper arms. “Is this taking your mind off giant woman-wolves?”

“Little bit.”

Dez took a nipple between the thumb and index finger of each hand and pulled towards the ceiling. “And is this distracting too?”

The sheet began to move above
Jace’s mid-section and a distinct shape was silhouetted. Dez looked at it and licked her lips.

“Well, I’ve got to go to work,” she said
teasingly, and began to climb out of bed.

Jace
grabbed her arm and pushed her back down. “Like Hell,” he said. He threw his leg over her, his cock resting now between her tits.

“Oh great. Now you’ve got me trapped. What am I to do?”

“If you want to get by, you’re going to have to pay the toll.”