"I wouldn't have taken you for a classic rock fan," Peter said in a calm, lazy tone as he sorted through the rack of CDs beside her stereo system. Out of his peripheral vision he could see her squirming, trying to pull her hands free from where they were, quite literally, nailed to her knees. He opened one of the cases. "I assumed you'd be more the bubble gum pop type."

Marcy shuddered at the sound of her Alpha's voice. Her fingers were twitching of their own accord, unable to handle the strain that had been placed on them in the past hour. The nails embedded in her knee caps were thick, long and coarse, rusted with age. Blood dribbled and dried as it poured down her legs, but it was the least of her worries. Her main concern was the pair of alligator jump cables attached to the tip of each nail.

Janis Joplin's voice crept out of the speakers, low and rough as Peter approached her. He crouched to be level with her face. Her naturally pale skin was flushed with strain and sweat, but she met his gaze with a ferocity that pleased him. The man wiped some of the matted brown hair from her cheeks with a burned hand and a gentle touch.

"Ready for round two?"

"The minute you let me go…" Marcy gasped, her mouth dry as she chuckled, "I'm gonna rip you apart."

"Very good." He praised her with a grin. "Keep that spark, it'll keep you alive."

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he pulled her back until she was slouched in the lawn chair he had tied her legs to. From the knee down, she was secured with knots to the thin metal legs of the chair. Marcy wasn't even entirely sure where the chair had come from. He had simply left the room and returned with it with no explanation.

"Now. What're we going to do different this time?"

The woman swallowed. Her head was spinning, but her voice was strong as she answered, "Keep my pheromones in check."

"And?" He coaxed.

"And my heartbeat." Her eyes narrowed at him as she sneered, "Which would be a lot easier if I didn't have to worry about being shocked with a fucking car battery."

Peter smiled cruelly at her as he tapped the top of said battery with a sharp claw. "By the time we're through, you won't need such extreme measures to lie."

Marcy glared up at him through the dark strands of her hair. "Can I at least have some water?"

"When we're done."

"Fuck. Okay."

The Alpha searched his Beta's eyes as he asked, "How old are you?"

"Twenty five," she told him with a heavy sigh.

"Where do you go to school?"

"California Institute of Natural Sciences."

"Who's your Alpha?"

"I don't-ah!" Marcy squeaked with pain as he shocked her. As she jerked, her hands pulled at the nails, sending another trickle of blood down her legs and another pulse of pain up her arms.

Peter tutted at her, wiggling a disappointed finger in her sweating face as he warned her. "Watch those pheromones, Marcella."

"How? How am I supposed to control something like that?" She asked, a low growl in her chest as she shifted in the lawn chair.

"You have to choose another emotion, deception has a very dis-"

"Distinct smell, yeah, I know, you've said it eighteen fuckin'-ah, goddamn it, Peter!"

"Don't sass me." He replied with a smile. Lowering the dial once again, Peter asked, "Who's your Alpha?"

She forced an impish grin. Pulling at the nails, she tried to focus on the pain rather than her anger. "You're my Alpha."

There was a visible shift in the man in front of her. His posture tightened, as did his expression…he even smelt different. A pungent, thick air took over his normal aura of charred skin and bleach. Red rims lined his blown pupils as he leaned over her.

"You think this is a game?" Peter asked quietly, lips brushing the shell of her ear and enjoying the shudder it earned from her.

"Of course it is."

"That you can open your legs for just anyone and they'll let you go?"

Marcy shook her head weakly. "I didn't open my legs for you. I just told the truth."

"I thought I told you not to do that." He chastised her lightly, his thoughts drifting to more carnal pleasures as his gaze slipped down to her heaving chest. His head tilted. Six years was a long time to go without a woman. Even comatose, there were certain urges that pent up- whether the body was able or not. He watched her fingers flex around the thick metal in her knees. Leaning back on the table, Peter smiled coyly at her. "Pass this test and maybe we can have some fun."

"I've never been very good with tests." Marcy grit her teeth. Inhaling through them, she closed her eyes tightly. "Can you at least give me a few fucking pointers?"

"Believe what you say."

"That's not a fucking pointer, Peter, that's-"

A sharp ringing broke her train of thought. Her Alpha checked the clock on her oven and clicked his tongue. "Now who would be calling you at one in the morning?"

Marcy huffed and cursed under her breath. "That would be Logan."

"Logan?" Peter repeated with a hint of suspicion.

"He's my little brother." She shifted. "If I don't answer it, he'll keep calling and calling and it'll go on until the police come."

He stared at her.

"He assumes if I'm not there at this hour I'm being gang raped in an alley way." When he rolled his eyes at her, Marcy got defensive. "Just get the phone!"

Smirking, Peter wandered over to the cordless phone and clicked it on. There was a blare of music over the line, full of static and heavy metal as he answered. "Hello?"

"Hi! Is this Marcy's place?" A male voice yelled over the noise.

Her Alpha turned to look at her with an amused expression. "Is this Marcy's place?"

"Just give me the phone!" The tied up Beta snapped at him. When he chose instead to only press the phone to her ear, she glared at him. "Hi, Logan."

"I didn't know you had a boyfriend!" Her brother cackled, the music lowering slightly as he moved away from whatever was making the noise. "I thought you were going to live the solitary life!"

Marcy blushed with embarrassment as Peter chuckled. "He's not my boyfriend."

"Than why's he at your crib at one am?"

"Is there something you wanted, Lo, or…?"

"Yeah, hey, so there's a gig at Heyland Park and I was wondering what amp you would recommend?"

"You've done Heyland a thousand times, it's a standard." Marcy shifted uncomfortably under the man's curious stare as she went on. "Go with the 100."

"Yeah? I wasn't sure what with the rain and all, but okay. I'll talk to you later, 'kay, Mars?"

"Sure. Be good."

Logan laughed over the line, "Okay, play safe."

Peter clicked off and leaned against the table. For a few seconds, he only smirked at her. "You and your brother are close?"

"You could say that."

"Is he your only sibling?" He asked, his finger circle the dial of the battery as he waited for an answer.

There were certain things that one avoided while being asked personal questions, but Marcy decided to brush that aside. Instead of answering, she swept her eyes over Peter's form. He was tall, fairly lean…the side of his face was horribly burned and horrifying, yes, but he had a pair of the bluest eyes she had ever seen. Plus he smelt fucking amazing. The woman supposed it had to do with those goddamn pheromones he was always talking about.

He tilted his head at her as she began to pant, her eyes shifting to yellow as she peered up at him through her lashes. Peter pursed his lips. "Oh…have we found a way to mask our scent?"

"Untie me."

"Answer my question."

"I don't." She grit out, teeth bared as she tried in vain to pull the nails from her hands without being too obvious.

Blanketing them with his own, the Alpha pressed. "Do you have any other siblings?"

"I said I don't."

"If I didn't know better I'd think you were telling the truth." Peter grinned at her, all teeth and malice as he undid the alligator clips from the nails. "Which will have to do. For now, at least."

Marcy let out a relieved sigh. A wince crossed her face as he grasped her wrist, the other hand taking hold of the tip of the nail. The man glanced at her. When she met his gaze, he ripped the nail from her knee. His lips crashed against hers, muffling the scream as it ripped from her throat. Blood pulsed from the wound, but neither paid it any mind as her bleeding hand tangled in his thick dark hair. While she was distracted, Peter yanked the other nail out and threw it across the room. It fell to the floor with a clink, but Marcy was too focused on getting him out of his jacket to care.

The webbed burns on his face were distracting, not in their roughness but rather almost waxy texture as he mouthed her neck. It sent a shiver down Marcy's spine as he paused.

"No…" She keened, pressing closer to him, her pelvis lifting to meet the hard on that was straining against his jeans. "Why'd you-"

"If we do this…" Peter panted, barely able to resist the urge to bury his teeth in her shoulder as he swallowed. "I might not be able to control myself."

A frustrated growl rose in the woman's chest. To prove a point, she stepped away from him. She felt his claws extend, catching the bare skin of her hips but he let her go. The Alpha's eyes were dark in the dim light with only the faintest line of red surrounding his blown pupils, her blood smudged along the unburned side of his face. Raising a claw of her own, Marcy dragged it down the front of her shirt. It split with ease, flashing the swell of her breasts as she dropped to her knees in front of him.

A teasing smile lifted the corner of her mouth as she rubbed him through his pants. "Who says I want you to control yourself?"

Peter grasped her hair, the thick strands slipping through his fingers as she mouthed at the bulge between his legs. His scent was heady and the skin under the material so hot Marcy could almost taste him. Just the idea made her sex ache, but before she could so much as unzip his jeans, Peter had pushed her back. With a pleading whine, she reached for him again.

"So needy," he taunted, stroking her cheek with his thumb before using his claws to tear off the rest of her pajama top. When she reached to do the same to him, he caught her by the wrist. "Careful. I'm not as pretty as you are."

"Don't be shy, Pete." Marcy shrugged off what was left of her shirt.

She tossed her dark hair back, letting him caress the bare skin of her neck before she reached for him again. This time, Peter let her. His hands, rough and warm explored her face and shoulders, the valley of her collar bones as she undid the few bottom buttons of his shirt. With a glance at his face, Marcy ran her tongue over the burned flesh of his stomach. His hand stilled on her neck as she carefully sat up, tasting the warm sweat of his skin as she palmed his erection.

The sound of his breathing, quick and ragged above her, was enough to make the Beta wet, but the feel of his claws dragging across her skin was something else entirely. For someone who, from what she could tell, was quite sexually frustrated, Peter was surprisingly gentle; the way his nails pulled at her skin, scratching just enough to coax pain but not enough to hurt. She shuddered and nipped at him. The sensation was odd, but certainly not unpleasant. His burns were thick and taut under her lips. Hesitantly, she traced one of them with her tongue and lifted a curious finger to stroke at the marred skin. When she looked up, she found Peter staring down at her intently.

Marcy shrunk under his gaze, not wanting to upset him. It was odd, how one disapproving glance could affect her.

The man smirked at her sudden display of self-consciousness. Trailing his claws up her throat, he tilted her head up. When their gazes met, he cooed, "Oh, Marcella. Don't be shy."

With an elated grin, the Beta resumed her licking with vigor. A low groan slipped from his lips as he leaned back against the table. The faint sound of his zipper being undone made his cock twitch as she tugged his pants down.

"Didn't peg you for the commando type," Marcy teased, her yellow eyes not leaving the bead of pre-cum that was slowly dribbling down his thick shaft.

Her Alpha let out a sigh as her warm breath caressed the weeping head of his cock. "Could you not be using your mouth for something a bit more…gratifying?"

"What?" She smirked and caught the bead on her tongue, the salty taste making her eyes roll back in to her head as she lapped at the tip. "You don't like my commentary?"

A low growl escaped him as he grabbed her by the hair. "It's not the most stimulating I've ever heard."

The woman barked out a laugh before she set to work. She moved down to his base, dragging her tongue over the skin just above his balls, before pressing her tongue flat. Slowly, she eased up, cleansing the hot member of his mess while her claws dug into his hips. The strokes of her tongue were heavy, purposeful as she lapped at him like an eager slut.

The air was heavy with sex, a mix of his arousal and her wetness, both of which were in no way helping Peter keep control. His fangs grew out, his claws digging into her scalp as she took the head of his prick in her mouth. The metallic scent of her blood only made it harder to keep control of himself, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Marcy, meanwhile, had taken certain matters into her own hands, so to speak. While one hand rubbed at the scarred flesh along his groin, the other hand wandered into her shorts, her fingers grinding feverishly against her clit. Her fangs had grown out, scraping at the sides of his shaft as she tightened her lips around him, impatient to taste him. Another trickle of his cum coated her throat as she shifted, the taste alone making her moan as she began to suck his cock in earnest.

He wasn't going to last. Peter grit his teeth as her hand slipped to cup his balls. It had been too long and her mouth was too fucking warm. Marcy pulled away, letting him fall from her lips. He glared down at her, a sharp order on his lips when she leaned forward and blew a cool stream of air along his wet tip. The man let out a grunt as a pulse of cum shot from his cock, one his Beta was quick to catch in her mouth. Her tongue circled the head zealously, her fangs just barely the sides as she sucked him dry. A high pitch keen left her throat, the taste of him leaving her eager for more despite the through coating of come her tongue had received.

For a few moments, the two were silent, only the sound of their panting filled the room as she cleaned him up. Marcy rested her head on his stomach, idly nipping at his scarred stomach as her Alpha patted her hair.

"Well. You certainly know how to use that pretty mouth of yours, don't you, Marcella?"

A/N: So, I now have a trailer for this one up. Just youtube Me and Mr. Wolf fanfic trailer and it shall be found.