Staking His Claim (BBW Alpha Male Werewolf Paranormal Romance Erotica) (3 page)

When
he shoved his finger inside, pumping my tight hole, my pussy clenched
around him, my body fucking him wildly as wetness gushed over his
cock, lubricating the way for his seed.
Jacob
was watching me raptly as I came on him, riding his cock relentlessly
as I screamed my pleasure out to the night.
Sharply
sweet bliss lanced through me, filling my pussy and making my clit
hard with arousal.

He was
groaning, his breath becoming deep growls as my pussy tightly gripped
him.
I fucked him
desperately
,
my wetness coating his cock as I lifted myself and slammed my pussy
down onto him, the strokes of my hips hard and fast.

H
e
took a nipple in his mouth, sucking hard as I felt his cock throbbing
inside me, ready to explode. It only took several more strokes down
his shaft when he snarled, his hips arching upwards and lifting me up
as hot cum spurted deep inside me. I gasped as I felt his heat fill
me, cum dripping out and running down my legs, and I ground against
him, milking his cock for every last drop of his seed.

He
kept spurting, his cock throbbing with every jet of cum, until his
balls were finally milked
dry
and I collapsed onto him, my
hole stretched out and aching pleasurably. Sweat pearled on our skin
as we laid in the afterglow together, our bodies used up but still
ready for more.

I was
in a state of pure bliss, his thick arms strong and hard around me as
he pulled me against his chest, his lips brushing my hair. “You
belong to me forever, Rosalie,” he said. His voice rumbled
through me, and I knew it was true. He had taken my innocence, and I
would always be his.

“
I
know I do,” I whispered, kissing his collarbone. He still
smelled of his spicy cologne, the scent making my stomach flip-flop
with desire. “
You
claimed me fair and square.”

I
watched the moon pass by overhead and give way to dawn as my werewolf
held me against him, the hunter having satisfied his prey.

Several
months later I held a box of kittens, watching them mew and roll over
each other, clawing to fight their way to the top. I handed the box
to the sweet new assistant who had started last week, a young lady
who had a way with animals. Even Dr. Andrews had warmed to her.

My
cell phone was beeping at me from my desk, and I checked it briefly.
Fortunately for me, break time was right around the corner.

Jacob
had sent me a picture of a brand-new bottle of whiskey, and
invitation for tonight. Astronomy on his house balcony with unlimited
whiskey was one of our hobbies, and I was already excited to head
home to my man and unwind in the bedroom.

But
why wait for tonight?

I
slipped out the back door of the clinic, shutting it firmly behind me
as I smiled at a shadow in the trees. Jacob's amber eyes gleamed at
me conspiratorially as he appeared at my side and pinned me to the
wall, his lips leaving trails of kisses down my neck. Heat built
within me at my helplessness, my body subject to his pleasure, his
cock pressing against me urgently from inside his jeans. I was
completely at the whim of my alpha.

Exactly
the way I like it.

“
Phyllis,
I just can’t do it this weekend.” I held the phone
between my shoulder and ear, the way we all do when we’re not
really listening. I checked my latest article for spelling mistakes
while my boss sighed into my ear.

“
Find
a way, Cass.” Phyllis sighed again. I could just imagine her
rolling her eyes. To her, weekends weren’t really a thing. She
just worked through them and didn’t understand that some of her
employees didn’t want to churn out articles on Saturday nights.
“$2000 for the article, on top of your normal salary. Consider
it an early Christmas bonus.”

“
That’s
tempting, but it’s Friday afternoon, and I’m already
home,” I said, thinking about my date with season four of “The
Walking Dead” and a pint of mint chocolate chip. I sighed
myself, echoing Phyllis’s dismay. I wasn’t one to work on
weekends, even when it involved a ridiculous sum of money for a two
thousand word fluff piece on a local entrepreneur. “And I have
a date with Daryl Dixon, Phil.” She laughed.

“
I
hear that this guy is hot, Cassandra. And loaded. I’ve also
heard rumors that he’s a
shifter
.”
Phyllis giggled. Even though shifters were out since early 2010, I’d
never met one in person. Because of the laws put in place to protect
their identity, you usually didn’t know if you’d met a
shifter unless he or she actually shifted before your eyes.

“
Really?”
A sexy businessman … and a potential shifter. “What is
he? A bear? A lion?” I’d even heard talk of a tiger
shifter in the area, but nothing was verified.

“
I’m
heard that he’s a wolf. I’ve even heard that he’s a
very
important
wolf.
I think it would be pretty interesting if you got some tidbits on his
company, and maybe you’ll see something while you’re
there that tells you about his extracurricular activities.”

“
Well,
Phil, we couldn’t publish anything about that. That’s
really not fair to his privacy. You can’t send me looking for
that kind of thing …” Phyllis cut me off before I
started to get really ramped up on my tirade. Privacy issues were
huge in the shifter community because non-shifters wanted to know
about them so badly.

“
Stop,
Cass. That’s not what I’m asking. People
are
hungry
for shifter stories, but that’s not what this piece is.
Beauregard’s startup just went public and the people want to
hear more about
him
and
what he’s doing with social media apps. One of the apps is
shifter-related, so that’s probably where the rumors are from.”
Phyllis knew she had me on board. I couldn’t resist a good
story, and this was a legitimate way to get to know more about a very
private set of people.

“
Fine,
Phil. You owe me a vacation though. I’ll go see this guy on
Saturday and get the scoop on his company, and I’ll have the
piece to you by Wednesday next week, alright?”

“
Good,
good,” Phyllis said. “I hear he’s a little reticent
when you first meet him, probably because of the rumors.”

“
Sure,
whatever.” I shook off her comment on Curtis Beauregard. I had
heard about him before, even though I hadn’t heard about the
possibility of his being a shifter. I knew I could get some quotes to
make the article good enough, and I wouldn’t be prying into any
of his personal behaviors. After all, it wasn’t like I was
telling his life story. I was just getting a little bit of info on
his company, and a few cheery quotes about the rise of small tech
businesses. That kind of thing was good for the winter, stimulating
the economy, making people positive for the new year and all that. “I
got it, Phyllis. I’ll set something up with his secretary
before I leave today.”

I
hung up the phone and let out a groan. I’d been so looking
forward to staying home on Saturday and just keeping to myself. But
that wasn’t going to happen, and who was I kidding, it hadn’t
happened in quite a long time. At least I’d be spending part of
my weekend with a handsome man. That was something that I hadn’t
come close to in over a year. I bet there were cobwebs growing down
there — my womanhood had taken second place to my career in
journalism. Men sometimes looked, especially those who liked a
curvier woman with ample hips and a taste for ice cream, but I didn’t
have enough confidence to respond to them. And a lot of those guys
weren’t particularly winning in personality or in looks. So for
now, I was biding my time. It would happen sometime, on one of these
Saturdays when I didn’t have to work. I’d sign up for
Match and go on a few dates with some local hipsters, maybe even get
my curvy ass laid. For now though, I was stuck with Beauregard for
the day. I’d probably be holed up in some office with him while
he looked at me with mild contempt or simple blankness, and I’d
keep chatting with him inanely until he accidentally spewed out some
quotes good enough for the article. That would be Saturday. “Walking
Dead” could wait until Sunday, I supposed. I shot off an email
to his personal assistant, hoping for an appointment at a decent
time. I got up from my sofa, stretching and wondering why I’d
taken a job that never had any days off. I walked to my shower,
figuring I’d better have hair fixed for this billionaire guy.
Otherwise, I might not get any usable quotes at all. If he saw the
snarl of my curly auburn locks, he might be too distracted by my
appearance to say anything intelligible. I’d been working at
home for the past few days and had neglected showering —
sometimes that could be a bad situation for creating good first
impressions.

I
passed by my mirror and caught a glimpse of myself. I was a
rough-looking sight in my traditional work uniform — sweatpants
and an old college t-shirt, but I could see the promise of my curves
through the clothes. I had large breasts that seemed to always get in
my own way … but they always attracted glimpses from men. I
tried to hide them from people with my clothes, feeling too much, too
curvy, too out there. Maybe that’s why I hadn’t gotten a
date. I patted my round rump as I looked at myself. Now, my ass was
just fine. Maybe someday I’d learn to love all of me. For now
though, I was just going to shower and hope to hear from the
Beauregard’s secretary in time to figure out my plan for the
next day. I sighed and stripped down for the shower, something in me
a bit nervous about my impending interview with a supposedly very
handsome, very rich, very mysterious man who was possibly also a
wolf. I’d seen a picture of him the last time the local
newspaper ran a piece on his company. He’d looked handsome, for
sure — dark hair, tall and well built, but something about his
face seemed strange. Maybe that was the extra DNA that allowed him to
shift. Maybe I’d already seen it in his face. I was still
thinking about the prospect of meeting him when I stepped out of the
shower.

I
pulled up to the diner and shut off the car. In the quiet of the
morning, I closed my eyes, finding a moment of peace in my
surroundings. I knew that today would be a hectic one, as it always
was. Minnie’s was an institution in the town of Woodward, and
it belonged to my family since the first pioneers had explored this
great land. It stood at the edge of the lakefront, with beautiful
panoramic views of the surrounding mountains. I knew that I was
blessed to be living in such a beautiful landscape.

With
one last deep breath, I got out of the car. I grabbed my apron from
the backseat. I was technically the morning manager at Minnie’s,
but in a place like this, everyone had to pitch in to keep all the
mouths fed. We were the town’s main haunt, a place for everyone
and anyone to sit and whittle away a Saturday morning.

Suddenly
I could hear the gravel crunching behind me. I frowned and turned
around. Townsfolk knew that Minnie’s wouldn’t be open for
at least another hour. But it wasn’t a local. The two shiny
black BMWs that pulled up beside me belonged to Maxwell Lalune, and
the sight of it stiffened my back. He was part of the nouveau riche
that had moved into Woodward, attracted by the ski slopes and natural
beauty to be found in the state. I couldn’t stand them to be
honest. They drove up the prices in the surrounding area, making life
difficult for us townsfolk.

He
was also a developer, and he had big plans for the land that Minnie
stood on. Before he had shown up six months ago, there was a hardware
store, a small corner shop, and an artisan woodworking store beside
us. Now they were closed and sold. We were the last lot standing in
the way of his multimillion yacht club.

Truth
be told, there was an awful lot of money being offered, but my
parents and I agreed that Minnie’s just couldn’t be given
up. It was all Woodward had left of itself, and we were a safe haven
for the townsfolk who couldn’t afford to eat out for fifty
bucks a plate in the fancy hotels and restaurants that had sprung up
to cater to the rich.