Coercion: Book One of Three: A BBW Serial Romance (Montana Dragons 1) (5 page)

Jesus, what the hell was the matter with her? Was this like the world’s fastest example of Stockholm syndrome or had she lost her ever-loving mind?

“But I’m not alone, am I?” he whispered and his lips brushed against the shell of her ear derailing her thoughts. "You should see the way you stare at me. The way your eyes flash. You’re angry. I get it. But you want me. And you’re lying to yourself if you think you don’t."

She closed her eyes, trying to summon the anger back again. To channel the rage and helplessness. To focus on something,
anything
, but the deep, melodious thrum of his words.

His fingers slid lower, down the curve of her belly, tripping over one hip and then teasing the top of her thigh with tantalizing strokes.

"Don't pretend that you don’t want to know what it would feel like to have me inside you."

He punctuated his words by dipping his head low to nip at her bottom lip. "This isn’t a game you can win, Willa. Put your clothes back on."

She knew he was right. The tide had turned. The battle was lost. Hell, maybe it was lost before it had even begun.

But before she could stop it, a reply was spilling from her mouth.

"No."

W
ith that word
, the leash he’d held so tightly over his need snapped, and he growled her name, diving lower to scrape his teeth against her neck. She gasped but didn’t pull away as he continued downward, like a man possessed.

Her breasts were glorious. Heavy and tipped with hard, raspberry nipples, and he couldn’t wait to taste them. He drew one into his mouth, laving it with his tongue before sucking, hard.

Her back bowed and she let out a low, keening moan that made the blood drain from his head straight to his already aching cock.

God, he wanted her, and thank the heavens, she wanted him too. It wasn’t everything, but it was a start.

He slipped his free hand between them, to curl between her thighs. The heat of her pussy branded him and he groaned. She was perfect there. Plump and sweet and oh so wet.

He parted her folds and stroked the hidden bundle of nerves there, eliciting a startled hiss and a groan from her. He barely managed to hold back a bellow of satisfaction when she plunged her hands into his hair to anchor him to her breasts.

Yes
.

He closed his teeth over her nipple and fell into a rhythm between her thighs. Every second he wasn't buried inside her, he went slightly more insane, and he feared that, by the time they got to the main event, he would be truly unleashed.

As he fought for control, he realized dimly that he was already holding onto her tight enough to have bruised a lesser woman. Another welcome reminder that Willa Stone was true to her name.

Unbreakable.

But then, she wasn’t unmovable, was she?

He released her nipple with a pop. “Willa?”

“Mmm…”

“I need a yes. With words this time.”

“Yes.” Her whisper came back stronger and faster than he’d expected and relief flooded through him.

He unbelted his robe and took his aching cock in hand, groaning at the much-needed pressure. Stepping forward, he crowded her backward, until she was pressed against the unyielding stone wall. Then, he lifted her effortlessly until her thighs gripped his hips, and the ripe, ready head of his thick cock jutted against her tight entrance.

He gritted his teeth, teasing her opening, and then circled her clit again, enthralled as her breasts heaved. She gasped, trying to impale herself onto his throbbing shaft.

Tiny moans escaped her lips, each one louder than the last.

“Please, Drake, please.”

If he’d had any more self-control, he would have waited. Made her beg for it. But that was for other nights--and there would be other nights.

For now?

He drew back, and slipped his fingers between them again, preparing to ready her for his girth. One finger, then two…shallow, and then deeper until--

He froze as shock nearly brought him to his knees. There was something between them. A barrier that resisted his entry and blew his fucking mind.

His wife…his little wolf, was a virgin.

He couldn’t hold back the roar of male satisfaction that built in his chest. She was twenty-five and in a pack of red-blooded males. Surely, by now, nature would have run its course.

But the proof was at his fingertips.

His cock bucked wildly, and his blood went hot. He didn’t want her any less. In fact, the need to possess had only grown more urgent as his dragon instinct to have, to
keep,
rose inside him. But now, he would need to adjust his course. He wouldn’t take her virginity this way.

His dragon roared again as it realized there would be no relief for him this night.

His little wolf, however, would not be forsaken.

Willa had finally opened her fevered eyes and locked gazes with him. Her catchy breaths reverberated through the room.

“Drake?”

He didn’t respond. He just lowered her gently to the ground. She protested, shaking her head furiously, but before she could speak, his fingers went back to work, slipping between her folds, working her clit, stoking the fire within her.

As much as he wanted to stare at her body, the way her breasts bounced as she rode his hand or the way her juices glistened on his fingers as he stroked her, he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze from her face.

Her hair flew in every direction, drop-dead sexy and irritating as fuck. He just wanted to
see
her. To watch her pupils dilate, those pouty lips forming an “O” as he pushed her closer and closer to orgasm.

“Do you want to come, little wolf?” he growled, then bit her bottom lip and sucked.

Her answer came in the form of a breathy scream and the scrape of ten fingernails down his back.

Goddamn.

How could she make him even harder than he already was? He was one touch, one breath, one stroke from coming, and that wouldn’t do at all.

He dipped his fingers in, testing her resistance.

“Yes. Drake, please,” she panted. “Inside me.”

He shook his head slowly, barely able to scrape the words out. “When you’ve accepted me as your mate, I will give you my seed.” He breathed deep as her pussy clenched his fingertips. “But for now…”

He took her mouth with his own and thrust his fingers deep, past the thin layer of resistance, to the heart of her. She stiffened, but held firm, waiting for her body to grow accustomed to the invasion.

It didn’t take long. She fluttered her hips against him, slowly at first, and then faster as she sucked on his tongue.

He was gentle to start, and then his thrust built until he was fucking her with his fingers in earnest. Using the pads of his fingers, he pressed on that spot that lay deep inside her. He knew the second he found it as she let out a wail.

The room seemed to dip and sway and the blood rushed to his ears as he pushed her toward climax, curling his fingers inside her, flexing and pressing, even as the heel of his palm ground against her sensitive clit.

He worked her greedily, mercilessly, until he lost all sense of time and place. And when she finally splintered into a million tiny pieces, her cries filling the house, all was right with the world.

He might still be swollen and aching, but it was his name that echoed through every hallway as she rained down on his fingers.

“Drake!”

T
he shame
and regret had come all at once, and even now, twenty minutes later, she could feel the flames in her cheeks. She’d begged him--her captor--to take her virginity.

It was unconscionable.

Drake stood on the other side of his bedroom, seemingly oblivious to her anguish as he rifled through his drawers for a t-shirt.

She barely managed a sigh of relief when he found one and yanked it over his head to join the pair of gym pants hanging low around his lean hips. It was bad enough that she had to look at him at all after what had just happened.

Seeing him half-naked and still wanting him? Made it a thousand times worse.

"Look, how about I just take a couple of these pillows and I'll sleep in the bath tub. What do you say about that? Anyone who wants to get to me will have to come through you first."

She even managed to force a smile on the end of it, but it didn’t do any good.

"Nice try, but no," he said flatly, folding his arms over his chest.

Her legs still trembled from his lovemaking, and she was sure she looked freshly had. She was desperate for some time alone to get her shit together, but it seemed like she wouldn’t even get that.

She shifted from foot to foot and chewed on her bottom lip, desperately trying to come up with another solution. Before she could, though, he shot her down again.

"Don’t waste your breath. This is non-negotiable, little wolf."

She'd already felt the suppressed strength in him. Already knew that he could make her if he wanted to. It was pointless to draw it out any longer.

She strode across the room and climbed into the bed, huddling as close to the edge as possible. There was no way she would get any sleep, but she would do just about anything to get a break from that probing, relentless gaze.

For a minute, the room was quiet, and she wondered if he’d left without her hearing. But then, footfalls sounded as he approached the other side of the bed.

The blankets rustled and he climbed in.

“I know this is hard on you, Willa, and for that I’m sorry. I wish there was another way…” He let those cryptic words hang in the air and then turned to face the opposite wall with a sigh. “Good night.”

The next hour crawled by, as she knew he was awake, and he clearly knew that she knew he was awake. But as black night softened to purple dawn, his breathing finally began to slow and she let out a long breath, letting herself relax as well.

He wouldn’t hurt her. Not physically, at least. She knew that now, and while it was a relief in some ways, in other ways it didn’t matter at all. She was still in grave danger. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she did. There were some wounds that were far more painful than the physical ones, and they loomed on the horizon like specters in the night.

She had to get out of there, and she had to do it fast.

There was one last, Hail Mary option open to her, but god, it would kill her to use it. He’d already tossed her aside, and who knew if he would even want to get involved in a battle against a dragon. But if ever she needed a friend, it was now.

Pushing aside her humiliation, she closed her eyes and pressed outward, sending tendrils of thought to her packmates…to Grey.

She focused on that last bit of warmth inside her. The part that felt like family and home.

For what seemed like an eternity, nothing happened.

Until something did.

There was an almost audible pop, and then, even the faint sense of connection was gone. Completely gone.

No.

Despair welled up inside her like a storm. Frantic, she tried again to connect, to no avail.

No, no, no…

Hot tears streamed from her eyes and she buried her face in the pillow. She was trapped in a stone keep with a stranger who clearly wanted her, but didn’t know, or love her.

A stranger who had awoken passions inside her that both shamed and terrified her.

A stranger she would never have the freedom to choose, even if she wanted to, because he’d been chosen
for
her.

And now, for the first time in her life, she was completely alone inside her head. It felt like someone had torn her very heart out.

The End

G
et
part two of Coercion
, out now!

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nd sign
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H
aven’t met
the Montana Wolves yet? Check out this excerpt from book one,
Prey
…

W
hen a gorgeous stranger
rescues her from a vicious wolf attack, nature photographer Amalie Baptista can’t seem to fight the attraction to her savior. What she doesn't know is that giving in to him could mean giving up life as she knows it...

A
lpha male Liam Albrecht
is breaking every rule for the curvy, captivating Amalie, risking his place within the pack and his own life to protect her. As discord among the clans reaches a fever pitch, he must find a way to save her from the monsters among them.

O
ctober 1
^st

Pray, Montana

A
malie cursed
under her breath and shot the GPS suctioned to the windshield the evil eye. Right before the finish line, twenty-four hours into her twenty-five hour journey, the thing was on the fritz.

She’d hated it from the second she’d turned it on. The smug recorded voice calling out instructions—a bewildering ten seconds too late—really rubbed her the wrong way. She’d dubbed the unit “Carole” after her sister, who rubbed her the exact same way. Carole—the GPS—had clearly decided the distaste was mutual, and was giving her the electronic equivalent of the middle finger by conking out in the middle of nowhere.

With a snort of disgust, Amalie pulled off to the side of the narrow road to use her blessedly silent map to try and figure out where the hell she was. She popped the SUV into park and stepped out of the car, the crisp air hitting her like a slap. As she turned to open the back door, a trickle of unrest skittered up her spine. She brushed off the sensation, chalking it up to her intense dislike of being lost.

She reached into the back seat and rifled through her well-worn pack to find the map and a yellow highlighter. After grabbing her thermos of coffee, she tramped over to a birch tree a dozen yards from the road and sank down to spread out her map. She’d just honed in on her location when the shrubs behind her rustled. She turned her head quickly toward the sound but saw nothing. Probably just a rabbit or a deer.
No point in being paranoid.