Coercion: Book One of Three: A BBW Serial Romance (Montana Dragons 1) Read online

  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!”

  * * *

  The 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

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  Haven’t met the Montana Wolves yet? Check out this excerpt from book one, Prey…

  When 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...

  Alpha 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.

  October 1st

  Pray, Montana

  Amalie 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.

  Up close, some might consider the forest intimidating, the hulking trees, the encroaching darkness, but to her it represented freedom in the purest sense. Freedom from the phone, the smell of exhaust, the sounds of horns blaring, and most of all, people. The woods were awe-inspiring, sure, and maybe a little creepy as dusk began to settle. Nevertheless, once she found her way to the entrance point, she would be hiking every inch of it for the better part of the next week, and she couldn’t wait to get started. What better way to call attention to the plight of wolves in the area than to photograph them in their environment? The fact that she’d convinced her boss at the magazine to foot the bill was icing on the cake.

  As she looked up and took in the beauty of the Montana sky, which somehow seemed bigger and bluer than any other sky, some of her tension drained away. This was supposed to be a working vacation, and she’d promised herself she would enjoy it.

  She reluctantly tore her gaze from the glorious view and turned her focus to getting back on the road. She pored over the map, relieved to find where she’d missed a turn. Carole had only cost her about fifteen minutes or so, and it was a relief not to have to backtrack very far.

  She pulled the top off the marker with her teeth, snapped it onto the back and carefully highlighted her route so she could see it easily while driving. Satisfied, she leaned back against the tree and sipped her coffee, soothed by the warmth and the scent of Irish cream wafting from the thermos.

  Just as her lids began to drift closed for a minute of rest and meditation, she saw a flash of brown out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head sharply, her pulse kicking up a notch. City life was clearly making her soft. She was going to be photographing all sorts of wildlife over the next week and jumping at every little thing wasn’t going to cut it. She needed to get a grip.

  As she stood to gather her belongings, she froze as another sound came from behind her. This time, there was no chance it was her imagination.

  Her heart tripped and her mouth grew dry at the low, menacing growl. She didn’t dare move as her body trembled from the strain of remaining still, despite every instinct urging her to flee. The growl continued, accompanied by the sound of slow, deliberate movement and the crunching of leaves, growing louder by the second.

  Staying still was no longer an option. Whatever was behind that sound was almost upon her and she refused to cower like a child. Straightening slowly and turning to face the beast, her blood ran cold. A large brown wolf crouched low, moving steadily closer, already less than fifteen yards away.

  Wolves don’t attack humans, especially not a lone wolf, she reminded herself. This particular individual had obviously not gotten the memo, though, because its amber gaze locked on her, ears flattening against its skull as it padded closer.

  She gripped the highlighter tightly and cursed her bad luck that it wasn’t a pen or sharpened pencil that she might’ve used as a weapon. Now, the best she could hope for would be to strike the wolf in the eye with the open highlighter when it attacked. The worst? She’d die but at least the rest of the pack would know this particular wolf was important. A bubble of hysterical laughter rose to her lips and she smothered it with a hand. She was one second from flipping out, and that wouldn’t do at all. She needed to stay calm.

  As the wolf slunk closer, she ran through her options. She could make a run for the car. It wasn’t far, and she might not be exactly svelte, but she was pretty fast. But even if she managed to get there, the time it took to open the door and get in would surely seal her doom. She had the thermos of coffee. While the liquid wasn’t hot enough to damage the thickly furred creature, the thermos itself was heavy and could be used as a bludgeon of sorts. Though the wolf seemed large, she might be able to wind up a good swing and disorient it enough to dash to the car.

  Either way, she was out of time—the wolf was closing in. She reached down slowly to grab the thermos, afraid that any quick movement would escalate the situation. She realized her mistake instantly. Her bent form was at its smallest and off balance when the beast leapt upon her a second later. She slammed into the ground and the air whooshed from her lungs. The highlighter flew from her grasp, but she held on to the thermos. Doing her best to cover her neck and face with her free hand, she struggled for air. The wolf’s jaws closed around her side, puncturing her clothes and sinking into her flesh.

  She let out an ear-piercing scream as she swung the thermos into the animal’s head. The
wolf released her for a moment and glared at her malevolently. She raised her arm to deliver a second blow, but another low growl—this one behind her—stayed her hand.

  A second wolf.

  With mounting horror she realized that any slim hope she’d had of escaping this nightmare alive had just evaporated. Holding off one of the enormous creatures had been a pipe dream, but fighting off a whole pack? Impossible.

  Her thoughts derailed as she realized her initial attacker had ceased moving as well. It peeled back its lips, let out an answering growl, and slowly stepped off of her, moving toward the sound behind her.

  Everything seemed to slow as Amalie rolled to her uninjured side. She barely made it to her knees when the excruciating pain of the bite finally registered through her haze of shock. She fell back onto her side with a cry and turned her head to see the brown wolf approaching the second, much larger animal. A timber wolf, male.

  Try as she might to formulate a plan, or move, or do…something, she could not take her eyes off the creature. He was magnificent. The largest wolf she’d ever seen, his coat a burnished bronze. He was so compelling that for a brief, surreal moment she cursed herself for not grabbing her camera when she got out of the car.

  The timber wolf stopped growling and, as if he felt her watching him, moved his gaze to hers. She gasped. His eyes were a molten gold flecked with green, and exuded the warmest, most intelligent light. In her peripheral vision, she saw the smaller brown wolf move to take advantage of the timber’s distraction.

  She screamed as it lunged, and the timber wolf feinted to the right. Amalie cringed as the smaller wolf closed its jaws onto his powerful neck muscles. He’d moved just in time, and was spared a killing bite to the jugular. He snarled in fury as he shook off his attacker and they began to fight in earnest, pawing and snapping at one another. The clack of teeth and their guttural snarls echoed through the trees.

  Amalie shook her head to clear it and fought the darkness threatening to pull her under. She had to make a move. Struggling to her hands and knees, she tried to inch her way toward the car, all the while watching the battle. A scant few feet from the car, her vision began to blur. She looked down at her side where a trail of thick, bright red blood flowed steadily from the wound. A wave of nausea rolled over her and dots of light exploded behind her eyes. She stopped, the frosty breath puffing from her lips as she pressed a hand over her side to stem the bleeding. Just a little further. She turned her head to see if the battling wolves had noticed her progress, but they seemed oblivious.