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Lora Leigh: Aiden's Charity

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Lora Leigh Aiden's Charity

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The forces of survival and destruction swirl in the darkest corners of men's minds. The nature of the beast cannot be harnessed, and survival is the purest of all instincts. Survival of the species itself goes soul deep. But can the human heart accept and adapt as easily? Can Charity bestow the love and the acceptance that has always been a part of her, to the man whose very survival depended on the hardening of his heart, of his soul? And can Aiden maintain that cruelty now, in the face of the sacrifices she made? Only time and nature can tell.

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He watched broodingly as Bainesmith, her under-scientists, guards and technicians approached his cell slowly. All eyes focused on his thighs and the limp cock that hung there.

“The bastard still hasn’t achieved an erection.” Bainesmith was coldly furious as she turned to the scientist that accompanied her. “You assured me it would work this time.”

The aging doctor shook his head, perplexed. Dr. Agullera was as perverted and depraved as any human Aiden had heard tell of. The man deserved a painful, bloody death. Right after Bainesmith’s, of course. “Perhaps impotence is his problem, and not merely defiance, Dr. Bainesmith. I warned you this could be the case.” His lofty superior tone set Aiden’s teeth on edge.

The cell door opened slowly as the guards awaited him, weapons held ready as they watched him warily. He contained his triumphant smile. He would die, but he would die knowing they feared him.

Aiden stepped from the cell, aware of the fate awaiting him. Bainesmith had made the promise to him when the drug was injected. The experiments into breeding were imperative for some reason. If he couldn’t fuck, then he wouldn’t live. He watched the doctor’s eyes narrow, and cursed her with an inborn fury he prayed would live after his death.

“You were a perfect specimen,” Bainesmith sighed in regret. “It’s too bad, Aiden. I won’t enjoy killing you, I would have much preferred fucking you.”

“Aiden, don’t let them do this.” Wolfe’s voice echoed from the adjoining cell as he heard Faith cry out in fear. “Dammit, I order you not to allow this.”

He didn’t glance at either of them. Today, despite Charity’s belief, was as good a day as any to die.

“Take him to the other room,” Bainesmith sighed. “I’ll deal with him there.”

He heard the resignation in her voice. He didn’t fight the guards; he allowed them to push him forward and walked voluntarily to the room of death. They all knew what the room was for. You entered there, you didn’t come out.

“No!” Charity turned to the doctor. “You can’t kill him, Delia.”

Her familiarity with the doctor surprised him. She spoke to her with the ease of a long association. A tone to her voice that demanded, expected to be heard without censure.

Silence filled the Lab as all eyes turned to her. Aiden watched her broodingly, daring her to go further.

“Charity, the animal is of no use to us,” Bainesmith bit out, her expression creasing into a frown. “Even the drugs don’t work on him. He is not a dependable specimen.”

Fear flashed in Charity’s eyes. She was pale now, her gaze going between him and Bainesmith.

“But he is.” She sounded frantic now. “The stimulation is wrong. He’s disgusted by those women…he can’t help that. He’s not being properly stimulated.”

Aiden’s stomach dropped as fear flashed hard and heavy in the pit of his stomach.

“I would love to fuck her, Charity,” he snarled at her, vowing vengeance if she hindered his final escape. “The equipment just doesn’t work.”

“He’s lying.” She turned back to him, and he gritted his teeth at what he saw in her eyes.

At that moment he began to pray. Pray that she had not realized his desire for her, his knowledge that he was but a step away from mating her and giving the bastards what they wanted. A child, a creature they believed would mold more easily than the original Breeds did. It was a knowledge he couldn’t hide from himself, but he was determined to hide it from the bastards who had created him.

If he revealed his ability to fuck, then it would only be a matter of time before they attempted to match him with a woman he could not deny. Just as they were attempting to match Wolfe, based on his uncontrolled response to Bainesmith’s young daughter. The same with his sister, Faith, and his Packmate, Jacob. Tomorrow Faith was scheduled to be drugged and taken to the other man. The thought of that, as well, was unbearable.

There was no privacy in the Labs. The sexual experiments were carried out before the eyes of all those held within the cells. He would be forced to listen to Faith’s cries. Here the mating sounds and know it was destroying her. Just as Faith had been forced to listen to her Pack Leader and Jacob as they had taken the women brought to them. He couldn’t imagine her or Charity seeing such a loss of control from him. The blow to his pride, to his soul, would be more than he could bear.

“She’s too soft for this job, Bainesmith.” He smiled with a tight promise of retribution to the girl. “You should have gotten someone a bit harder. I bet she throws up when she sees blood.”

He silently cursed as Bainesmith watched the girl with calculated interest.

“Can you produce a response, Charity?” she asked her coldly.

God no. A shiver of dread worked over his spine. He looked at Charity, knowing in that moment she would destroy him.

“I can.” Her voice was faint, fear trembling through the sound of it.

Bainesmith’s eyes narrowed. “Chain him to the crossbars. We’ll see what she can do.”

He fought them then. A roar of fury broke past his lips as the guards began to force him to the metal X built on the other side of the room. He would be restrained, unable to move, unable to fight. If she touched him, if he smelled her arousal, it would all be over with.

The weakness the aphrodisiac produced left him little strength to fight. Muscles were lethargic, lacking power; only his cock would have true strength. If she touched his cock, it would damned well explode in seconds.

Within minutes he was strapped to the crossbar. Arms and legs were buckled down, his waist held tight to the center of the X, helpless. He howled in fury, the sound primal, enraged. There would be payment for this, he swore as he fought the straps. And it would begin with Charity.

“There he is, Charity.” Bainesmith waved a hand at his nude, bound body. “Get him hard and he can live another day.”

Charity approached him warily as he watched her with raw, unbridled fury. He snarled, the animalistic sound vibrating in his chest and throat as he bared the wicked canines at the side of mouth.

“Don’t attempt it,” he growled at her, ignoring her frightened expression, the wary set of her body. “Touch me, Charity, and I promise you will pay.”

She stared up at him, her brown eyes somber, moist with emotion. That look speared into his soul and tightened his chest with emotions too unfamiliar to delve into.

“I won’t let you die.” Her hand touched his hard abdomen. “I can’t, Aiden.”

Her touch had his muscles clenching in pleasure. He growled at her again, his teeth snapping together in warning as her hand trailed lower.

“I’ll kill you myself.” She was going to go down on him. He saw the clear intent in her eyes and knew he was doomed.

If her soft mouth touched his cock he would not have the strength to fight her. Already his weakened flesh was stirring, overpowering his control, desperate to tempt her into touching it.

“But at least you’ll live one more day,” she whispered sadly.

Her lips touched his abdomen. He felt the fire lick over his body, the desire that simmered in his blood flaming at the moist touch. His cock tingled, pleading to be free of his control. He gritted his teeth, fighting the lust surging through his loins.

“Just one day,” she whispered again against his skin. “That’s all you need, Aiden, just one more day.”

She went to her knees, the wet heat of her mouth covering his cock as he roared out his fury. Her hand cupped his scrotum, messaging it as her tongue stroked over his flexing cock. He couldn’t fight it. Oh God, her mouth was so good. Hot and tight. Her tongue was timid but felt like a whip of fire on his flesh.

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