His Takeover: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Piper Sullivan

  “Of course, My Lady,” Samuel agreed but shifted from one foot to another almost nervously.

  “Is there a problem?” Olivia asked, doing her best to temper the authoritative demand in her voice. She’d adopted it early in her career, it held the perfect combination of “don’t-mess-with-me-or-I’ll-make-you-do-a-thousand-push-ups” and “I’m-not-your-moma-but-you-will-listen-to-me.” The commanding air worked on her soldiers, but this man wasn’t under her command and therefore deserved a mediocre amount of respect.

  The corners of Samuel’s mouth curved and he cleared his throat lightly before gesturing toward her.

  “Perhaps My Lady would like to dress first?” he suggested and Olivia’s eyes immediately fell to her lap where she realized - in horror - that she wore nothing but an over-sized white t-shirt and her panties.

  “Where the frick are my clothes and who undressed me?” she screeched uncharacteristically.

  “My Lady -”

  “Call me Olivia or Livy,” Olivia uninterrupted Samuel. “Just stop with the ‘My Lady’ nonsense.”

  “My apologies, ma’am,” Samuel murmured softly. “But it’s impossible for me to address you in such an informal manner.”

  “What about Miss Livy?” she asked. “Will that work?” Somehow she didn’t think ‘Master Sergeant’ would be acceptable either. She wasn’t in a military setting and she idly wondered if she ever would again. Had her entire life just shifted wildly out of balance? Had she really wasted her entire life training for something she’d so easily be snatched out of?

  “Of course,” Samuel agreed with a smile and nodded happily. “Yes, ‘Miss Livy,’ that is acceptable. My Lord took the liberty of removing your uniform so as not to damage it. It’s been cleaned, pressed and hung in your closet. There are other clothes in there for you as well, should you not require the military uniform. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll get your medicine and let My Lord know you seek an audience.” With a curt bow, he backed out of the room, leaving Olivia fuming in both anger and denial.

  She waited until she was sure she was alone and then stalked over to the closet. Wrenching the maple-colored french doors open, she studied the closet contents with a critical eye. It wasn’t necessarily a large, walk-in, but it was roomy enough to accommodate a tall, six-drawer dresser nestled neatly among the rack. True to Samuel’s word, her dress uniform hung neatly in the center, encased in a clear, plastic cover to protect it from dust and such. However, surrounding it were other articles of clothing ranging anywhere from jeans and t-shirts to dress slacks and cashmere sweaters. She reached in and began shifting through them, shocked when she saw her size on each tag. How had he known her size? It wasn’t as if she were a universal six two. Fourteen and sixteen tall were difficult sizes to find straight off the rack.

  She usually had to special order her clothing from a big and tall store. But apparently Mr. Monroe had better connections. She selected a pair of soft, dark denim jeans and an emerald green, long-sleeved t-shirt.

  She rummaged through a few drawers until she found some socks and searched the floor until she found a pair of white tennis shoes - yet again, in her size.

  By the time Samuel had returned, she was fully dressed, auburn hair tamed in a high ponytail and temper on full, rolling boil.

  She curbed her tongue and decided that instead of shooting the messenger, she’d just wait and devour the source.

  She followed Samuel through a few winding halls and corridors, not taking the time to marvel over the exquisite interior of the estate. Her mind wasn’t on polished, marble floors or beautiful wood ceilings.

  They stopped directly outside a large, wooden door sporting a large outline of a dragon’s head. Its mouth was open in full roar fashion and mock flames were carved in the wood around it. Samuel knocked curtly and waited until a voice from within called out before pushing open the door, proceeding her into the large, cavernous office.

  Two walls were lined in floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a large fireplace nestled among the ones on the right wall. Four large windows faced out over the estate grounds and the man himself sat behind a massive desk, his back facing the windows. He stared intently at the screen of his desktop computer, his fingers deftly flying across the keyboard. Without looking up, he waved a hand to dismiss Samuel and gesture Olivia to sit in one of the cushy chairs facing the desk.

  Instead, Olivia turned and sat in one of the leather chairs situated before the fireplace. She didn’t miss the way Mr. Monroe’s mouth curved in a comical smirk at her small defiance. She might have been ordered to marry the man, but nobody demanded she allow him to boss her around.

  Although no one had lit a fire, the area still radiated that cozy air and Olivia soon found herself relaxing despite of her situation and anger.

  Chapter Six

  Jax studied Olivia from the corner of his eyes. Pure, unfiltered rage rose off her like steam. He could only imagine the thoughts and feelings coursing through her mind and body. She’d lived her entire life subjected to a narrow band of beliefs and now within a matter of hours he’d managed to tear it all down with flick of his wrist or swipe of his tail.

  He closed out the document he’d been reading over and rose from his chair, arching his back to stretch out the kinks. He saw her entire body tense when he moved across the room to join her.

  “I won’t bite,” he quipped and smiled when she glared at him. “I know this must be difficult to grasp, I’m sorry we don’t have more time.” He sat opposite her and toed his loafers off. Perhaps she’d relax again if he would as well. He lit the fireplace with a mere thought and suppressed a smile when she jumped at the whoosh the flames made as they ignited.

  Her eyes went from the fire to him a few times before she merely nodded and pressed her lips together in a tight line. He knew she barely restrained herself from speaking. He’d seen the true light of her warrior spirit yesterday in the war room. She wasn’t one to sit idly by and let the world revolve without her. She was a doer, a thinker and a fighter; everything he needed in a mate.

  Of course he’d never admit it, but he’d sat and simply watched her sleep once he’d undressed her last night. Yes, he’d just met her yesterday and yet with every minute that passed, he fell a little more in love with her. It was both insane and right at the very same time. Around her he felt complete, something he hadn’t experienced ever before. It was as if a giant hole in his chest had been filled the moment she walked into the room. He knew he couldn’t live without her; not now.

  “I’m sure you have a few questions,” Jax murmured. “Why don’t we take a few moments and just talk?”

  Olivia turned her turbulent blue eyes on him and he caught a glimpse of the storm brewing. He just hoped they both survived long enough to fulfill the mating ceremony.

  “I don’t know where to start,” Olivia laughed.

  “Start anywhere,” Jaxen suggested.

  “Alright,” she conceded. “Why don’t you explain to me just why you have to marry me in order for your dragon tribe to survive?”

  Jax chuckled at her bluntly phrased question. He couldn’t have respected her more in that very moment.

  “I mean, I understand the need to replenish your ranks, so to speak,” she continued. “I just don’t get what that has to do with me.”

  Well, Jaxen thought to himself, here goes nothing.

  “It seems as though you and I have more in common than you may think,” Jaxen stated gently. “A long, distance ancestor of yours was a dragon. He defied High Council’s law and took a human mate. As generation after generation of hybrids were born, the dragon DNA grew diluted and the elemental magic dwindled. I’m not sure which faction your great-times-removed-grandfather belonged to and in all truth, you may very well belong one of the other tribes. My scholars believe our DNA is compatible as mates, so you, my dear, are my best and only chance,” he finished and then quickened to add. “Then there’s the fact that I find you simply irresistible.” He flashed a smile.

>   “I could see myself falling for you,” Olivia stated simply and honestly. “But you understand this --” she rose from her chair and moved to stand directly in front of him. “I will never submit to you. I’m not doing this for you or your race of dragons, I’m doing this because I was ordered to.” With that she stalked from the room, making sure to slam the door behind her.

  “That went well,” Jaxen muttered to the empty air around him.

  Chapter Seven

  Olivia took her time and hunted Samuel down. She found him in what could only be described as the estate library. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled the large, spacious room. The little man sat at a small table in the corner, a pair of spectacles perched on his pointy nose.

  She wandered over and took the seat opposite him. After her conversation with Jaxen, she’d taken some time and mulled her thoughts over. She considered herself crazy for even considering this whole thing as a mission. But she couldn’t deny she’d been given a direct order.

  “Took you long enough to find me,” Samuel mused with a playful smile. “I suppose you’re here to learn more about the life you’re about to commit yourself to?”

  Olivia smiled. She was growing fond of this little man and God knew she needed a friend in this whole insane world.

  She opened her mouth to ask for some reading material when Samuel quietly pushed a large, leather bound tome in her direction.

  “Start there, it will answer the basics,” he ordered simply and went back to his own book.

  Olivia opened the book and dove headfirst in the world of dragons.

  Chapter Eight

  The small chapel was like something out of a medieval movie. The soft candle-scented was humid but warm and inviting. The walls were made of misshapen rocks and mortar, with the former covered in a light dusting of moss. The only light were the multitude of candles laced throughout, some even sitting in erratic holes in the worn rocks.

  At the front, where the altar would normally set, was a semi-circle of cloak-clad figures, their faces hidden by the large hoods pulled low. Olivia counted thirteen and almost laughed. Still not entirely sure why she’d agreed to go through with this whole farce, she hooked her hand through Samuel’s pro-offered arm and allowed him to lead her down the narrow aisle father-and-bride style.

  She wore her own robe, made entirely of white opalescent scales that clacked softly as she walked. It appeared as though the garment had been coated in millions of tiny pearls but she’d been told they were minute scales taken from one of the Old Ones’ tombs, as was custom.

  The hood lay open against her neck, the soft downy fur occasionally feathering against the bare skin on her nape. Totally nude underneath, she padded barefoot down the rose-petal-strewn floor and stopped a few feet short of the center figure. He or she - she wasn’t sure which - held an ancient tome in their hands, open to a page with colorful illustrations and writings.

  Old hinges creaked loudly, the noise echoing wildly throughout the sacred space. A tall figure, clothed in a black robe entered the room and moved across the floor as if he floated. Olivia knew instantly that it was Jaxen.

  He lifted the hood from his head and their eyes met.

  The priest raised his head, allowing his own hood to fall away and motioned for them both to approach him. Once they stood side-by-side, the elderly man began chanting in a language she’d never heard before. Occasionally he’d pause for Jaxen to utter something in response.

  After a few minutes of this, the priest pulled a long, silver blade from the folds of his robes and sliced it quickly across Jaxen’s forearm. He turned toward Olivia and Jaxen motioned for her to offer her arm to the blade as well. She winced as the cold steel cut into her flesh and watched as a thin line of blood welled in the tracks.

  The priest placed Jaxen’s forearm against Olivia’s, their wounds lining up exactly and pressed them firmly together, allowing their flowing blood to mix. A rush of tingles erupted in the wound site and had soon spread through the entirety of her body.

  “You are now one,” he announced and replaced his hood.

  The entire ceremony took less than ten minutes. But maybe it only felt like minutes ago to Olivia. Two massively large men escorted the newlyweds to Jaxen’s bedchambers and then turned to stand sentinel outside the door.

  “They’re only there to make sure no one disturbs us,” Jax explained softly. “This part of the ceremony is sacred and not to be rushed.” He then advanced on her with a hungry gleam in his eyes.

  Olivia had mere seconds to brace herself before she found herself wrapped in Jaxen’s arms. With quick, deft fingers, he managed to open the clasp at the neck of her robe and toss it somewhere over his shoulder. He repeated the same motions with his own and then they stood chest to chest, naked as the day they were both born.

  “I have to look at you,” Jaxen murmured huskily and took a step away from her, but keeping a firm grip on her biceps. She wondered if he thought she’d bolt and run if he didn’t keep a firm grasp on her.

  His hands on her arms gentled and he tucked a finger under her chin, prompting her to look up at him instead of the floor.

  “You are so beautiful,” he murmured huskily. “So lush, curvy and beautiful,” he repeated and leaned down to press his lips against hers. Olivia’s arms instinctively went to his neck. Heat pooled in her core and she almost moaned out loud. She was more than happy with her body, but no one had ever made her feel as though she was desirable. Being larger than most girls used to bother her, but after enlisting in the Army and completing her basic training, Olivia was proud to have that little extra. It made some things more bearable.

  “I didn’t want this,” Olivia blurted and prepared herself for a confrontation when Jaxen stilled.

  He pulled away and stared into her eyes, his head tilting sideways in a quizzical look. She inhaled sharply when she noticed that his brown eyes had lightened to the purest yellow like honey. His pupils had elongated vertically and his fangs peeked out through his parted lips.

  A small ball of fear coiled in her belly and she waited for him to lose his control. Instead he shook his head slightly and chuckled.

  “Oh, believe me sweetheart,” he rasped. “This isn’t something I wanted either. You received your orders just like I got mine.” He took her hands in his and gently swept his thumb back forth across the backs of hers. “We all answer to someone higher up, don’t we?”

  Her brows furrowed in confusion at his declaration. But instead of offering anything further, Jaxen dove back in for another kiss.

  Olivia decided that just for once, she’d do something crazy and unplanned. She’d followed orders and married a perfect stranger, but for some odd reason, this stranger ignited a fire within her she’d never felt before. Her mind screamed for her to get to the bottom of this; to question everything until something made sense.

  But just this once she decided to throw caution to the wind and listen to her heart. The traitorous organ thrummed in contentment and urged Olivia to let go of all the rules and structure. It begged her to let Jaxen do what he wanted with her; as long as he continued to make her feel good.

  Jaxen knew the moment reason lost its war with pleasure. Olivia’s body relaxed from the taunt line into a puddle of neediness.

  “That’s it,” he coaxed her gently. “Just let go and be. I’ll make sure you never regret following orders.”

  His hand snaked down the curvy contour of her body, stopping only when he’d reached his destination. His hand cupped her bottom, the motion forcing her body closer to his. Her eyes snapped up to his when she felt his hardness pressing into her.

  “What the hell,” Olivia murmured in surrender and poured herself into kissing him, her lips hungrily devouring his. “We only live once,” she finished and shoved him backward until he lay sprawling on the plush surface of the king-sized bed.

  She moved up the expanse of his body and then sat, straddling him, the heat of her core burning into his lower stomach. He reached up
and palmed both healthy breasts, his thumbs brushing across her nipples and she moaned in response.

  “Do you always have to be in charge?” Jaxen inquired huskily. To which she merely smiled and ground herself against him playfully. This time it was Jaxen who moaned.

  In a flash, he bucked her off him and had her pinned underneath him, the warm weight of his body pressing hers into the soft mattress.

  He thrust his hips, his long, thick shaft entering her in one fluid motion and she gasped in delight. She let him set the motion and then rushed to meet him thrust for thrust. With each reunion of his body into hers, the tension within her built higher and higher until she felt like she’d climbed Mt. Everest. Her lungs burned from the panting breaths whooshing in and out of her lungs.

  She felt him swell within her, knowing that meant he was only seconds away from his release. She reached down and grabbed two handfuls of his tight, delectable butt and pulled him harder and faster into her; her fingernails no doubt leaving scores along his tight globes. The moment she reached her own blissful peak, her body clamped down on his and Jaxen moaned low in his throat. He then bent to piece the soft skin of her neck with his fangs.

  The sweet-painful heat flooded her system, maximizing her orgasm to a level she’d never experienced before. She pressed her eyes closed tightly and sighed when fireworks burst behind her eyelids. Her body convulsed over and over as she rode wave upon wave; shocked when it seemed to go on forever.

  “Is this what it’s like being with a dragon?” Olivia gasped as a searing heat bloomed in her stomach.

  “It’s our mating,” Jaxen whispered in her ear from where he still lay sprawled atop her. “It may get uncomfortable, but don’t fight it, just let my essence sweep through your veins. It means we’re becoming one. Our DNA is mingling and mine is supercharging your dormant genes.”