“Stop,” I said. “Stop!”
But he didn’t.
He wouldn’t.
He sucked the tender, swollen bud harshly and then I felt one of his thick fingers enter my channel. I bucked, trying to get away from this new invasion, but he put his other arm above his head and pressed against my hips, trapping me.
What had started as sweetly awakening sensuality became a new kind of agony.
I lay pinned against the bed, the sexual prisoner of the alpha, and I could do nothing.
Tears squeezed from my eyes as I felt his finger curled upward in my virgin flesh and began a slow, torturous stroking. I sucked in an unsteady breath.
Sweet mercy! What was he doing?
I moaned.
The incredible sensations he’d wrought from my clitoris was nothing compared the strange and wonderful thrills he created from the tiny knot of nerves he’d found just inside my entrance.
Now, a different sort of delight unfolded and weaved itself into the stinging ache of my tortured clit.
I no longer felt pain.
Or fear.
The expert touch of my alpha lover was bringing me to orgasm again. I felt my clit tighten, my inner muscles squeeze, and then I was crying out…
…screaming Grey’s name…
…as double spikes of terrible, beautiful pleasure pierced me to the very core.
I slumped against the bed, my entire body limp and replete. Grey rose and sat back on his heels, his expression full of smug satisfaction. “How are you, Arabelle?”
“I’m wonderful.” I rose onto my elbows. “So, that’s how a werewolf scents his mate?”
His lips quirked into a half-smile. “As I said—one of several ways.”
I couldn’t help but gaze at the large (and rather scary) hard-on that strained against his jeans. “Should I…do something for you?”
He rubbed the front of his jeans and sighed. “Not until we are mated.”
I moved my leg so that he could slide off the bed.
“You need more rest. Tonight, Aunt Lila will prepare you to the Choosing, and accompany you to the ceremonial grounds. I’ll see you there.”
“When we’re mated, will there be more of… of this?” I asked.
Something within him changed instantly. He grew unnaturally still, his lips peeling back into a snarl. He growled, and the harsh sound had me scrambling backwards, fear tumbling through me.
“I’ve chosen you, Arabelle. But you must understand that tonight, when we truly mate and seal our bond, I will be more animal than human. I will be rough. Greedy. Insistent.”
“What if I can’t handle that?” I asked in a shaking whisper.
Grey stared at me, his wolfish gaze dark with nearly inhumane lust. “Willing or not, my sweet, I will take you.”
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A Special Note to Readers
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading part 2 in The Pack Rules! I hope you enjoyed this segment of my werewolf serial, and that you’re eager to read Part 3. The world of The Pack Rules is made more amazing because I get to share it with you.
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Sincerely,
Michele Bardsley
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About Michele Bardsley
Michele Bardsley is a national bestselling author of paranormal romance and romantic comedy fiction. She lives in Texas with her husband (The Viking) with two cats and four dogs. She loves watching “Supernatural,” consuming chocolate, crocheting hats, reading books, and spending time with her husband.
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