Page 23 of Purchased

That animal is unhappy. Prowling. Sniffing. Wants to get to the bottom of my secret because he knows I have one, and I won’t give it up the way he expects me to.

“You are more intelligent than they’ve given you credit for, aren’t you,” he says. “The way you look at me makes me feel as though you’re looking right through me.”

So he feels me inside him. I like that. I like that he knows I have penetrated him, just as he surely intends to penetrate me.

I give a little shrug.

“I want to spank you,” he says, his lips turning up in a little smirk. “There is something about you that just begs to be spanked.”

“It’s not about me. It’s about you not getting what you want. You want to spank me because punishing me is easier than dealing with the fact that I won’t give you what you want. You’re spoiled.”

* * *

Armand

“Spoiled?”

I laugh, not because she’s wrong, but because I never considered the notion before. I was raised from birth to become alpha of this pack. I had all the trappings provided, and all the necessary attitudes installed by my parents, who have now retired to the Aegean.

“I suppose I could be described as spoiled in a certain light,” I say. “But the fact that I am your alpha remains.”

“And the fact that I’m not going to do what you want just because you’re alpha also remains.”

She’s eighteen, going on nineteen. Young to be this bold and sure of herself, but sometimes adversity breeds that quality, though in my experience it is more likely to create the opposite. I can only imagine what she’ll be like when she is more settled here. I suppose it’s down to me to train her to be as I want her to be.

“We will see about that,ma cherie,” I say, remembering how she writhed beneath my fingers. She might be rebellious, but she’s never been handled by me before.

She smiles, and for the first time it feels like a genuine smile. Sitting in my shirt, in my bedroom, full of sass and butter, she is beautiful. I will remember this moment forever, just as I will remember chasing her through the moonlit fields and seeing her for the first time at the auction. Each of those moments revealed a different part of her, like a diamond twisting slowly in firelight with its various facets all gleaming.

“Are you still hungry? Is there a need going unmet?”

“I’m not hungry,” she says. “And I’m not tired.”

“Then you have some time to kill, to settle in. You’ll have a proper introduction to the pack tonight at dinner. They have been on me to find my mate.”

“Really? Why?”

“An unmarried alpha is a liability to a pack.”

“Why?”

“Well, for one, it means there are no direct heirs, which can cause an unsettled situation if something happens to him.”

“So I’ve been brought here to stamp out a few Armand de Lune babies.”

I try not to take offense to that assessment. “You are so much more than a bitch to be bred,” I tell her. “I hope that you can tell from the way you are being treated that you matter greatly to me. If all I wanted were babies, we would have already begun that process.”

She blushes deeply and adorably and that reaction, along with the topic of conversation, makes my cock immediately hard. Breeding her will be a pleasure. She has a hard outer shell, but she is tender and responsive, and I think when she opens up to me, giving herself fully the way one only can during lovemaking, she will be spectacular.

“You are most welcome here, Beatrix. The pack is eager to welcome you to the family. You are not merely a new member. You are going to be at the very center of our lives.”

She looks horrified at that statement, which I intended to be encouraging, but see how it might be overwhelming instead. For a girl from a terrible old orphanage, being made the center of pack life is probably, well, entirely ridiculous.

“But that will come with time,” I tell her. “Tonight is just an introduction. I’m trying to explain that you are very welcome, that people are excited to meet you, and that I am proud to call you mine.”

Her eyes meet mine, dark and wary and afraid. Deeply, deeply afraid. I really have to stop talking about the pack, it’s far too much. I have to remind her of what is between the two of us, her and me.

Or maybe that’s just my lust talking. Maybe I need to focus more on her, her family.

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