Page 5 of Hunted Mate (Stalked Mates #1)

I get to read along with her as she scrolls through it, missing all the exposition and character development and getting right to the filth.

I feel jealous of the story. I want to be what she touches herself to. I want to be the one who touches her. I want my face buried between her thighs, my tongue deep inside her tender pussy. I want to hear her screaming for me, the sound coming raw and desperate from her sweet throat.

Instead, I am sitting in a van, watching her read fiction about another woman being knotted by a dominant wolf and listening as she pleasures the very same clit I was strumming not long ago.

This is torture. For me. Not for her. I should be inside her. My cock is so fucking hard, I find my hand wrapped around it in an attempt to relieve the pressure, stroking along with her until I come when she comes.

“Fuck,” I curse to myself. “Fuck. I need to get a grip.”

I need to get more than a grip. I need to deal with this issue, I need to make her give up the werewolf thing. This is getting dangerous. I am starting to get attached, and that is not okay.

The following morning, she gets up, goes to her basement office, and continues on with her research.

This time she is using the phrases I inadvertently used while talking to her.

She is looking for information on Cursed Children of the Wild.

Thankfully, human cultures have always had a fascination for creepy cursed children, so her search results are plentiful enough to send her in the wrong direction.

I am displeased.

I made myself clear.

I claimed her.

She should know better than to rebel against me.

I remind myself she’s human, not wolf. She doesn’t feel the same inclination to submission that a shifter would. Instead she’s headstrong, following her intellect and her interest rather than instinct.

It’s time to take another shot at dissuading her.

It works in my favor that she decides to stay late in her office that evening.

She’s already forgotten the intensity of what I did to her.

She’s able to brush terrible things off in a way most people of any sanity wouldn’t, because she’s hyper-focused on this one special interest of hers.

Breaking her attraction to it is going to take another, even more intense session.

I can’t afford to be nice to her this time. This time it has to hurt.

She doesn’t hear me coming. She has her headphones on, playing a podcast of wild assumptions about shape shifters, if I had to guess. She’s typing furiously on her computer as I approach her from behind and slide a hand around her mouth.

Callie stiffens in place, instantly aware that she has been caught off guard. I don’t sense fear, though. Interesting. I have not scared her, even though I thrashed and bred her the first time we met. The woman is truly immune to good sense.

“You’re going to stop researching this subject,” I growl in her ear.

She makes a sound in my hand. I loosen my grip enough to let her speak.

“Or what?” She asks the question with sass and impudence.

Or what.

I stand back, turn her chair around, and undo my belt in almost one single motion.

Her lower lip quivers just a little. I snap my belt between my big hands, making a whip-crack sound.

“I warned you, Callie,” I say. “I told you that you needed to drop this. But you wanted to keep disobeying me. You don’t think anybody is going to follow up when you misbehave.

You’re ever so wrong, baby girl. Now. You can get up, bare yourself for me, and accept your punishment, or I can put you in position, and this can hurt like hell. ”

She narrows her eyes at me, showing yet more rebellion.

“Don’t,” I say.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t make this worse. I already intend to punish you hard. Trust me, you don’t want more than I originally planned.”

I watch as she pouts. She is so spoiled, but not in the traditional sense that most rich kids are.

She is not spoiled from being given too much, and expecting too much.

She is spoiled in the way someone who has always had to forge a path for themselves has to be spoiled.

She ignores feedback, dismisses discipline.

She is like a one woman icebreaker, plowing through the defenses my kind has been putting in place for years now.

Calista

“I’m going to keep researching. You would have to kill me to stop me. So unless you are going to wrap that belt around my neck…”

He drops one end and quick as a flash, he does just what I dared him to do.

I feel leather against my throat, a firm presence that makes me feel instantly caught.

He doesn’t snatch it tight, though. He doesn’t start squeezing the life from me.

He just loops it around, the tongue going through the buckle so that it snugs against my neck like a collar.

“You really don’t understand, do you,” he growls at me. “You always escalate, always dare me to try to break you. You’re going to make this so much worse than it needs to be.”

He steps in toward me. “If you had listened, you wouldn’t be in this position. This punishment fucking you’re going to get? If you were a reasonable woman, it could have been an email.”

I smirk even as the belt pulls a little tighter.

He doesn’t understand. There is something inside me that comes to life when I am told what to do.

It is pure resistance, and it turns punishment to pleasure.

Sometimes physical, but always psychological.

I wouldn’t stop my research anyway, but his insistence that I do ensures that I’ll never give it up.

He tugs on my impromptu collar.

“Get down,” he growls. “Now. I want you on your hands and knees.”

I have no choice but to do as I am told, owing to gravity and balance. I find myself crouched as he starts to lead me around with his belt, making me crawl behind his tall, merciless frame.

“I will make you like an animal,” he threatens, saying the most unhinged sexual things I’ve ever heard. “You will be my human pet. You will be taught to obey, or suffer the consequences of disobedience.”

I try to pull out of it, but pulling only makes the belt tighten around my neck. My body flashes with the heat of humiliation and the excitement of arousal. I don’t want to be into this. It shouldn’t be hot. I’ve got to make it not hot.

“Let me go, you psycho,” I say as I stand up.

He yanks me back down, mercilessly.

“Down, girl,” he growls as my knees hit the floor. It doesn’t hurt as much as it could, because it’s cushioned by some messed-up papers.

I start complaining instantly. “This is fucked up. You’re fucked up. What is wrong with you? Why do you even care what I research?”

He steps forward and yanks on the belt, sliding his hand underneath my chin, drawing my gaze up to him. “You’re a very mouthy little girl,” he growls. “I’m not here to answer your questions. I’m here to tell you what to do, and teach you a lesson because you didn’t do it.”

His crotch is right at the level of my face. He pulls the fly of his pants down and his cock springs out, throbbing and erect and long. It is such a fucking intimidating dick, and he knows it. But I can’t let this monster get his way. He’s trying to scare me off. I won’t let it happen.

“You…”

I shouldn’t have made the rookie error of trying to argue with my stalker.

The second I open my mouth, he pushes his cock deep inside.

His big hand slides under my chin, his fingers pressing against my jaw in a tactical way that makes it hard to close my mouth.

He wraps the end of the belt around his hand once, twice, three times, pulling my lips toward his crotch, and proceeds to fuck my mouth with long, hard, disciplinary strokes.

His cock is hot and it is hard and he seems pretty confident I won’t bite him. That is a mistake on his part. I start to close my teeth and let the tips of them graze over his plundering rod. I’m going to fucking bite him…

“Don’t you dare,” he says, his tone stern and intense. “Don’t you dare even think about it. If I so much as feel your teeth, I am going to breed your ass.”

I make a complaint around his cock, unable to form words with my mouth full.

He snorts with some amusement. He is enjoying himself now.

“Yes, I do mean your ass. That tight little hole you want to keep to yourself is going to end up stretched around my cock.”

The threat is brutal, and I know he will follow through on it. He’s willing to break into my work, willing to fuck me whether I want it or not. There’s probably very little this rough stranger will not do.

I move my teeth away, opening my mouth a little more. He takes advantage of that, driving deep and hard over my tongue all the way to the back of my throat. He holds himself there for a second, making it hard for me to breathe, then pulls out again.

“You’re a brat. You’re a bad girl, and you are going to get punished a lot by me if you don’t start behaving and doing as your master tells you.” His voice is thick with animal lust.

He thrusts deep inside my mouth again, and the fucked-up thing is that the way he is fucking my mouth is making me wish that same cock was right down between my thighs, pounding me deeply. This shouldn’t turn me on. I should be resisting. I should be disgusted.

But I’m not. The feeling of good leather around my neck is quite smooth and nice; it’s getting warmer now. I’m getting used to the feeling of his thick, hard flesh inside my mouth. He’s making me eager, and hungry. When I swallow, I almost feel his cock going down my throat.

“Good girl,” he groans as his cock finds further depths inside me. “You are a good little pet, aren’t you? You know how to take me so deep inside your mouth I come down your throat and fill you with my cum. Do you want to swallow it? Or do you want it in your pussy?”

He pulls back, lets the head of his cock sit on my lower lip, and gives me time to answer.

I can’t. I am too red-faced, too aroused, too ashamed of what I want to say.