Romance: Auctioned To The Panther: BBW Dragon Shifter Romance Standalone (Wild Shifters Book 2)

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Romance: Auctioned To The Panther: BBW Dragon Shifter Romance Standalone (Wild Shifters Book 2) Page 2

by Ashley Hunter


  He settled next to her and pulled the tray across their laps, lifting the lid to reveal pancakes, sausage, toast, eggs, bacon, fruit, coffee, tea, water, juice—a veritable feast. “I wasn't sure what you liked,” he admitted, voice coming out a bit nervous.

  Grace blinked at the food and suddenly realized how hungry she was—how long had it been since she'd last eaten? A day? Two? As if on cue, her stomach rumbled.

  Christian smiled and handed her a fork, settling more comfortably against her side. He felt contented like this and wished they could stay that way forever, but he knew she'd need to eat and then they'd need to talk. He shook his head, trying to put that out of his mind.

  “So what do you normally eat for breakfast?” he asked her, hoping he could get her to open up and relax a little. And besides, if she were to be his mate, he'd need to figure out what she liked and disliked and things like that. He looked forward to discovering each new thing about her that he could.

  “Depends on the morning,” Grace said around a bite of pancakes. She swallowed, looking sheepish. She probably ought to have better manners in front of this rich, chic man. “Sorry.”

  Christian snorted; she was adorable. He felt a surge of lust go through him and tried to tamp down on it. It was all well and good for him to realize she was his mate, but it wasn't time yet to act on it. “It's fine,” he said. “Most people act far too formally around me because I'm one of the richest people in town—but I don't really want anything to do with that kind of stuff normally. I'd rather just relax.”

  Grace dropped her fork, appetite gone already: his words about how rich he was reminded her of the fact that she now belonged to him. She closed her eyes, pressing her fingertips against her eyelids and taking in a shaky breath, feeling herself begin to tremble.

  “Please, I'm sure there are...a million other women out there that you could buy. Ones who are prettier than me. Please, can't you just–just let me go home?”

  Christian hummed softly, lightly laying a hand on her arm. “Grace,” he said quietly, waiting until she'd opened her tearful eyes and was looking at him. “Grace, I'm not going to hurt you,” he repeated. “And I don't want to own you or anyone else.”

  He sighed, shaking his head. He'd hoped this would be able to wait until after she'd gotten some food in her, but of course she must be terrified after everything she'd been through.

  “I'm not like those other men,” he insisted. “I was just there for a business deal that Liam Henderson was helping to arrange. I don't normally go to society events like that. But I heard some men whispering about what was going on in the other room and when I went in there and saw you...well, I could tell you didn't want to be there. And I knew I couldn't stay quiet and let you be sold to someone else.”

  “Because you wanted me for yourself,” Grace said bitterly.

  “No,” Christian said vehemently, frustrated at his inability to get through to her. “I bought you so that I could get you out of that situation. It was the quickest thing I could think to do—by the time the authorities arrived, who knew what they could have done to you.”

  Grace trembled, realizing the truth in that, at least. “But you still brought me back here to–to…”

  “To give you a safe place to sleep and heal,” Christian growled. “That's it. I don't intend to hurt you or murder you or whatever else is going through your head right now. I just wanted to keep you safe.”

  “Oh,” Grace said quietly.

  “After I brought you home, I put you to bed, asked my maid to come bandage your wrists, and called the police to tell them what I knew about the situation last night. I've checked in on your a few times this morning, but I haven't touched you at all. I don't intend to hurt you—you're safe here. As soon as you're able to walk out of here, you can be my guest.”

  It was all true except for that last part: Christian had no intention of just letting her leave like that. Not that he would keep her there against her will, but… Well, he just had to make her realize on her own that she was his intended mate, as he'd known from the moment he'd first laid eyes on her. Once she realized she was his mate, she wouldn't want to leave.

  He hoped so, anyway. There was still that lingering doubt in the back of his mind that if she knew what he really was, she'd be even more frightened than she already was.

  If she was being truthful with herself, Grace knew that he was right and that she was too weak to leave now anyway. She didn't particularly like being stuck here, but… Well, she didn't really know where she would go to be safe now anyway. If she went back to her own apartment or to her work, Liam would be able to find her, and surely he'd come after her again if he knew she was free? And Christian seemed so sincere…

  “I'm scared,” she admitted in a whisper. A few tears slipped free and rolled down her cheeks.

  Christian suppressed a growl and carefully set the tray aside so he could gather her into his arms, lightly running a reassuring hand down her back. “I know,” he murmured. “I understand. But you don't need to be scared here—I'll make sure that those bastards never come near you again. And I won't do anything you don't want me to do.”

  Grace drew in a shuddery breath, slowly putting her arms around Christian as well. “Can you...can you stay with me?” she asked hopefully, burying her face against his side. “Please, I don't want to be alone right now, but I'm so tired.”

  “Shh,” Christian soothed. “Sleep. I'll stay right here.” He was surprised at her level of trust already, but he assumed she must recognize their match somewhere in the depths of her mind. That made things all the easier for him, then.

  He didn't move until she was asleep, then he pulled back slightly and tucked her back under the covers. He remained on top of them, however, fighting to keep the promise he'd made to her: he wasn't going to touch her while she was helpless like this, despite what his mating instincts were saying.

  He couldn't help thinking of all the things he'd like to do to her, though, watching how peaceful but vulnerable she looked there, curled towards him in the bed. He imagined what her face would look like as he stripped her slowly, kissing down the length of her body.

  He'd make sure she knew how beautiful she was, make sure she knew that he wasn't just doing this because he owned her through some sick twist of fate.

  He'd pause at her breasts, kissing them and sucking at them until the nipples pebbled, all the while running his hands slowly and torturously up and down her sides, with just enough pressure that instead of being tickled, she grew steadily more turned on, until she was practically writhing beneath him, desperate for him to fill her.

  Then he'd pull away slightly so he could watch her face as he slid his fingers slowly inside her tight pussy, massaging her walls so that she relaxed and allowed him to press another finger in just as slowly.

  He'd smiled as her hips jerked, trying to get more of him inside her, trying to urge him on faster. But he'd keep going slowly, listening to the quiet noises she'd make: bitten-off moans, like she was afraid to have anyone overhear them.

  Christian suddenly became aware of the fact that his hand had strayed to his throbbing dick and that he was massaging himself gently through the fabric of his pants. He quickly yanked his hand away as though he'd been burnt, looking guiltily down at his sleeping companion.

  He could only imagine the reaction she'd have if she woke up and found him pleasuring himself beside her, given that not five minutes ago he'd been promising not to touch her if she didn't want that.

  He willed himself to think of the most unattractive things he could think of—but nothing seemed to stick in his brain like the vision of her writhing beneath him. After a few minutes of warring with himself, he slunk off to the bathroom to take care of himself. Then he'd be able to return before she awoke, without having done anything worse than dream about her.

  Chapter Three

  The next time Grace woke, she felt much better rested. Christian was still there next to her, sat on top of the covers w
ith his tablet in his lap and a pen in his teeth. He'd put on a pair of thick-rimmed glasses that made him somehow look even more sexy—because no matter how afraid Grace was of what he would do to her, she couldn't deny that he was unbelievably attractive, the kind of man that could make a woman swoon in a black-and-white-film kind of way.

  She stretched, relishing in the tension that released from her shoulders. Christian smiled down at her, setting his tablet aside and removing the pen from his mouth with a slight blush. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said. “Or evening, as the case may be.”

  Grace pushed herself up against the pillows, not surprised that she had slept so long. She could feel a lingering jitteriness from her nerves before, but mostly all she felt was hungry. She'd deal with everything else once she'd eaten.

  “You look a lot better,” Christian said, reaching out to push a lock of hair behind the woman's ear. She had at least a little color back in her cheeks, although she had to be starving. “How are you feeling?”

  “Starving,” Grace admitted, echoing Christian's thoughts exactly. She blushed and ducked her head. “Sorry, that was rude.” She couldn't seem to keep from being overly blunt or rude around him… Even though she hardly knew the man, she felt inexplicably comfortable around him.

  Christian snorted. “Not at all. Anything particular that you're in the mood for? I imagine you probably want something light since you're probably still feeling the comedown from the drugs? I was thinking maybe just some sandwiches...”

  Grace started, looking at him in surprise. “Yeah, actually. That sounds perfect.” He was surprised at how attuned he was to how she was feeling, as well as at the level of concern he was showing for her well-being.

  Christian smiled and slid off the bed. “Wonderful. Why don't you wait here and I'll be back in ten minutes or so—sound good? There's a bathroom right through there if you want to freshen up a little.” Not that he really wanted her to; she looked so delightfully mussed and sleep-tousled just then. But he also wanted her to feel comfortable, whatever that took.

  “All right,” Grace said, making no move to leave the bed. Instead, she settled back against the pillows and closed her eyes. “Thanks,” she said quietly, causing Christian to pause. “For...staying.”

  “I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel safe,” Christian answered seriously. “Whatever it takes.” When Grace didn't respond, he retreated slowly from the room so he could collect some food for them.

  On the way, he mulled over how immensely resilient the woman was proving to be. He would've expected it to take a lot longer before he started to trust him to be in the same room with her while she slept, but she really seemed to be taking to him. And that was certainly a relief.

  Meanwhile, Grace was thinking about nearly the same thing, wondering why she felt so curiously comfortable around this man whom she hardly knew. It had to be something to do with the shock of the previous days and her emotional weariness; she must've just reached a point where her body could just no longer fight against his advances. Whatever he wanted to do to her, she wouldn't be able to stop him...and so she had given up all hope. That must be it.

  But there was something different about him, something she trusted. Of course, she didn't know him very well and she'd also trusted Liam, so who knew how credible her judgment was…

  Not too long after, Christian returned to the room carrying a tray with sandwiches, some sliced vegetables, water, and milk. He smiled when he saw her still there in bed and moved to join her. They ate in silence, Christian having learnt his lesson the last time. He wanted to make sure she was able to eat this time, in the peace of her own thoughts.

  After they'd both finished, though, he set aside the tray and turned towards her. “I know you're pretty bruised up and that your wrists probably hurt and you're probably still tired...but for my own peace of mind, I need to know what you were doing at that party.” He knew that wasn't the best way to phrase it, but he wasn't sure how exactly to say what he needed to say without coming on too strong.

  Grace picked at a loose thread on the hem of her sleeve, remembering exactly what she'd been doing at the party. That wasn't anything she really wanted to discuss with him, though, and honestly— “That's...not really any of your business,” she mumbled.

  “Oh?” Christian asked archly. “So it's not any of my business to know whether you really were unhappy being up for auction? Because in all honesty, it could be that you really are a little slut who wanted to go off to the highest bidder. I just want to make sure I didn't save you from something you didn't want to be saved from—maybe you're into humiliation? If that's the case, I'll take you right back.”

  He knew his words were harsh, but he hoped it would help draw the story out of her and maybe desensitize her to it a little bit. Of course, she should be giving a statement directly to the authorities, but...well, Christian wanted to keep the woman to himself for now, until he managed to assuage his panther side that she wasn't as vulnerable as she appeared.

  Grace swallowed hard. “I didn't want to be there,” she whispered. “Liam...” She shook her head, not sure she was ready to talk about this yet, and especially not with a man she hardly knew. “Liam was my childhood friend, and I thought I trusted him. But he drugged me and sold me off to the highest bidder.” She held her chin high, daring Christian to say the wrong thing.

  And he was immensely proud of her for that, more than he could say.

  “You should talk to the police, then,” Christian said smoothly. “I'm sure I'm hardly the person you want to talk to about this since you probably think I'm just like the rest of them—but I'm not, Grace, and if there's anything I can do to prove that to you, please let me know.”

  He looked so earnest then, and Grace couldn't deny how attracted she was to the man. She still didn't approve of the way she had come to be in his home, but even if he had bought her to have sex with her, she could definitely have been stuck with worse men. She wondered…

  Slowly, carefully, she leaned in to kiss him, making no secret of what she was about to do, her eyes flicking down to his lips and then back to meet his gaze, a clear question in them. Maybe sleeping with him would help her get over this whole thing, make her forget the circumstances that had brought her to this house—or at least make her appreciate them. He was, after all, one of the most handsome men she'd ever met.

  And he was a wonderful kisser, too, she was forced to conclude. He applied just the right amount of pressure, and after a moment of close-mouthed kissing, he carefully reached up to tilt her head to the side and gently nipped at her lips to get her to open her mouth to him. They kissed for a minute, slow and languid—the kind of kiss you would normally expect from someone you'd been with for a while.

  Grace whimpered slightly as Christian pulled away. He stayed close, though, one hand tangled in her hair and his forehead pressed to hers. “Are you sure this is okay?” he asked, a bit breathlessly.

  Grace nodded helplessly. “Please. Please, I…” Before she could finish whatever she had intended to say, Christian was kissing her again, even more thoroughly this time. His teeth scraped lightly along her lower lip, causing tingles to run up and down Grace's spine. His hands seemed to be everywhere—but at the same time, he was respectful, not going too near to sensitive areas just yet but mostly ranging up and down her sides and carding through her hair.

  After a couple minutes of this, Christian pulled away slightly and moved his mouth down her jawline and onto her neck, kissing and sucking in turn. Grace tilted her head back to allow him better access, unable to keep her fingers from tangling in his hair or to stop the soft noises of pleasure that were falling from her lips.

  Even after just this, she was so close to begging him to take her, take her right then, make her forget about all those other nasty men and just focus on this, focus on how perfectly and strangely right this felt.

  Christian sat back and gave her a piercing look. “Grace, I need to know how far I can go with you,”
he said firmly. “Normally I would try to read that from the situation and read that from your actions, but...”

  “But you think I shouldn't be doing this so soon after...” Grace trailed off, waving a hand expressively.

  “Oh no, no, no,” Christian said, shaking his head. “It's not that I think you shouldn't be doing this. But you did suffer a traumatic experience, and I don't want you to feel like I'm taking advantage of you or that I'm not respecting your boundaries.” He smiled crookedly at her. “That said, you are a very attractive woman, as I hope you know, and I would really, really like to...explore you.”

  Grace could feel a blush work its way up from her chest to her face. “Well, you're not so bad on the eyes yourself,” she mumbled shyly, ducking her head and peeking up at him through her lashes. Her expression grew serious. “I want to do this,” she said.

  “Partly because I'm still scared of what those men might have...might have gotten to do to me. I want you to erase my memory of them from my mind, make me feel beautiful again.” She smiled coyly. “But also, I just kind of want to have sex with you.”

  Christian laughed in surprise and shook his head. “Minx,” he muttered, leaning in to kiss her again. Grace hummed in agreement.

  Not long after that, Grace began to tug at the bottom of his shirt, clearly trying to get him to take it off, and Christian rolled away to stand at the side of the bed, eyes appraising the woman spread out on the bed beneath him. “Undress,” he commanded not unkindly, and Grace leapt to obey, shucking off first the flimsy shirt and then the equally flimsy skirt that they'd dressed her in for the auction.

  Christian ran his eyes hungrily over the pale skin that was exposed with each piece that she removed. He could hardly believe he was this lucky. He finished removing his own clothing and crawled over to cover her body with his own. “You…” he said, punctuating his words with kisses, “are–absolutely–gorgeous.”

  Grace couldn't help a small giggle that bubbled up out of her. Who would've thought, a week ago, that she'd have this wonderful, attractive, near stranger in bed with her—and that she'd feel so incredibly sexy?

 

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