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around the side to side loop. With some effort, she tied the whole thing in a tight knot, and sat up, straddling Samantha, the razor grin in evidence again.
    “You’re mine, you know.” Lou tilted her head, and Sam was reminded of the way her wolf had done the same thing as she’d blacked out, her bones knotting and reforming. “I didn’t want this for you, but you’re right. It happened. It happened and you’re mine now.”
    Samantha forced herself to breathe. She’d wanted to hear those words almost since she’d met Lou, on some level, but logic and reason mitigated it every time, told her it was irrational and therefore Not Acceptable.
    Logic and reason were no longer in the room. Lou could do anything to her, just like before—but now, Sam felt no reason to question anything Lou would want. She shifted her hands, and the knot of blouse around her wrists held tight. A corresponding clench in her abdomen seemed to feed the warmth of her core.
    “Oh, it’s a tight knot, Sam.” Lou’s voice was small, but it had become more throaty now. “The terrible part is that the wolf wanted it, even though I didn’t. The wolf wanted you this way, just like me.” Lou leaned down, her leather jacket and shirt against Sam’s face for a moment, leaving that scent her brain had registered as meaning safety, comfort, home—leather and cotton and Lou. Sam would never have enough of that scent, never could.
    Lou’s tongue brushed over the scar across Samantha’s palm, then did so again, as if washing the wound.
    Sam whined loudly. “Please. Please, Lou, please.”
    “I’ve been waiting to do this for way, way too long.” Lou’s eyes hardened for a moment. “ Stay .”
    “Yes, Lou.” Samantha whimpered the words out, without thinking, without questioning. Whatever Lou wanted to do to her, with her, for her—she didn’t care. She trusted Lou, and her heart pounding in her chest told her to give in, no matter the request.
    Lou brushed strands of Sam’s hair out of her face, their eyes locked for a moment, and then she broke the look with a blink. “Good girl.”
    Sam stifled a fresh moan at that.
    The other woman’s hands moved over Sam’s tummy, slow and barely tracing their way along. Lou’s body shifted off Sam, and Lou pulled something out of her jacket pocket.
    With a schk it opened, now twice its length. Light gleamed off the edges of it, and it became clear it was a knife.
    Sam blinked. “L-Lou?”
    Lou’s razor grin betrayed nothing. She slipped her empty hand into the waist of the slacks they’d stolen and Sam felt the metal back of the knife blade against her skin. With the sounds of the fabric giving way came cool air over Samantha’s right leg. The same work was done on the left, slowly but surely, baring Samantha’s flesh.
    Lou stood, gripped the bottoms of the cut pant legs in one hand, and lifted Samantha’s ankles with the other, one by one.
    Samantha shuddered, whining. She was bare flesh now, exposed to Lou as she had been before, but without any effort on her part. The difference was distinct, and pushed a sense of helplessness through Samantha’s mind.
    Lou knelt between Sam’s feet and her nose nudged at Sam’s navel. “Don’t try to be quiet, Sam. Just let it out.”
    She nosed at the side of Sam’s thighs, drawing slow tonguetip licks along the flesh. Her breath washed warm over the moisture of Lou’s saliva, and Sam felt Lou’s hands settle on the front of her thighs. A long, wide, slow lick traced from the bottom of her sex to the top, drawing a thick moan out of Samantha and sending a powerful spasm through her body.
    The hands on her thighs squeezed as Lou’s tongue took a deeper stroke between the folds, working along, hungry but with a maddeningly slow progression. Louann lapped at Sam’s pussy, strokes that laid warmth over warmth, concentrating the heat deep in her abdomen.
    Samantha mewled and felt her legs flex, trying to spread wider, as if her body was trying to