Wolf's Mate Mpreg Romance Box Set

by Kiki Burrelli

  A pang of something that felt close to sadness hit his stomach at that thought, like a rock in a bucket. He bit his bottom lip and reached back, his hand resting on the doorknob.

  Derrick turned from his fan club as if sensing Christian's turmoil. He stepped, coolly, away from the crowd which parted like river water hitting a boulder.

  "I've had your things brought to a room in the west wing," Derrick informed him. "Our doctor is waiting for you there to take care of your wrist."

  There was an edge in his tone that offered Christian no argument. It frightened him and yet Christian still followed a maid to his new room.

  Chapter 8

  Derrick shut his bedroom door, effectively blocking out the swarms of people who could not stop saying how glad they were to see him. Most of them—hell, all of them—were paid well enough or treated to enough perks from the family to be expected to say as much. He had grown tired of their placations and from the moment Christian had disappeared into his room, Derrick had wanted only to go to him.

  He'd had Christian's bags moved into the west wing. His wing. The room directly next to his, to be exact. It had the added benefit of a connecting door, giving Derrick twenty-four-seven access.

  He stood in front of that door, taking a moment to listen to the movement going on in the other room. Christian was shuffling around, mumbling to himself. Derrick smiled, imagining what Christian would look like, pacing the room, making kind comments to himself about the decor, the view. Derrick had already spoken with the doctor, who'd told him that Christian's wrist was going to be fine and that he'd given him pain killers to keep him comfortable.

  Derrick raised his hand and knocked once before opening the door. As he thought, Christian jumped and stared at the door with startled gray eyes.

  "I thought that was a closet," he muttered.

  "Nope," Derrick said, closing the door. "It leads into my room."

  "Is this where you keep all of your employees?" Christian asked. The annoyance in his tone was weirdly attractive.

  Derrick smiled and rubbed his chin. "Kind of. This was the room all my nannies stayed in."

  "Nannies? More than one?"

  Derrick shrugged. "I was hard to handle."

  "Hope I didn't kick out the current one to stay in here," Christian snapped.

  He was mad, or irritated. That much was clear. Derrick's wolf perked up. So far, whenever Christian had gotten mad at him, it was because he had been horny. Hearing Christian's sharp tone was like a bell and Derrick was Pavlov's dog. He hoped this was the case now because he was done waiting.

  Derrick laughed, louder than he would normally have, but he was hoping to rile Christian up further. "My current one? I get it. No, I haven't had a nanny in a very long time. These days, I can take care of myself."

  Christian made a show of looking around at the expensive furnishings. "I can tell."

  "Now that you know I am rich, you think I can't take care of myself?" He moved closer, physically needing to be nearer. "How do I make you happy, Christian? You didn't like me when I was homeless. You don't like me when I'm not."

  Christian whirled toward him, getting into his personal bubble. "Maybe, I just don't like you?"

  Derrick bristled. "Your cock is telling me a different story," he said, being as brash as possible.

  Christian turned, walking away from him while he enunciated his words perfectly so that they fell out of his mouth like crisp leaves, "My cock is none of your business."

  It was, possibly, the worst thing Christian could have said to him at that moment. Derrick operated entirely on instinct. He stalked forward, on sure legs, loving the flare of concern in Christian's slate gray eyes when he turned around. Good. He should be concerned.

  Derrick was so close to Christian. He felt surrounded by him. His scent filled his nostrils, tantalized him. "Isn't it?" he murmured. "Isn't your cock my business?" He cupped Christian between the legs.

  Christian's eyelids fluttered. A soft moan escaped his lips. "Get away from me," he said with zero conviction.

  "You didn't want me away from you on the bus," Derrick reminded him, like an asshole. "In fact, there you wanted me very much near you." He massaged Christian's hard cock through his pants. "Inside of you."

  Christian moaned, a tortured sound full of lust. It instilled in Derrick a need to take, to conquer and claim. He held Christian with his other hand, tightly, at the back of his neck. Christian's pulse beat wildly under his thumb as he applied a small amount of pressure on his throat. "I think I need to show you how much you like me." He kept a tight hold on Christian's neck, bringing their lips together.

  He wasn't gentle, but he didn't allow the kiss to become frenzied. Derrick would take his time. Christian was right where he wanted him. They were alone, and no one had cause to bother them for hours. Finally, there was no passed out man or bus full of passengers to impede him.

  He could be thorough. His mouth was firm against Christian's, ensuring the other man would leave with flushed, red lips.

  Christian made an impatient noise deep in his throat. Derrick broke the kiss, tsking the other man lovingly. "There is nothing to get in our way now," he said, kissing Christian's neck, enjoying the way the other man automatically flung his head back, offering Derrick full access to his vulnerable, sensitive area. Derrick reached for the hem of Christian's shirt. He needed him naked and defenseless.

  Was it fucked up that he wanted Christian in a state that ensured he couldn't leave him? That he wanted him in a state that made it absolutely certain that he wouldn't reject him? Probably. But, he would deal with that later. Right now, he'd keep Christian in place by driving his cock so deep up the other man's ass that he wouldn't think about leaving. And he'd stay there until they both collapsed from the pleasure.

  He kissed and licked across Christian's naked chest. Gathering an erect nipple between his teeth, he bit down. Christian's yelp transformed into a groan.

  "Please, Derrick…" he gasped and begged.

  Derrick bit his other nipple while tweaking the one he'd left. "So you do like me."

  "Fuck you."

  Derrick chuckled. He pulled Christian's pants down to his ankles. His hands went to Christian's boxers and the man whimpered. He halted, his fingers hiding behind the elastic band. He rubbed the skin there, teasingly, ceasing his downward exploration.

  "Why—why did you stop?" Christian asked, out of breath.

  "You were the one who said this was none of my business, Christian. I'm simply respecting that." He made slow, soft circles with his fingertips around Christian's hipbones. Christian responded with tiny thrusts forward and whimpers.

  "Did you change your mind? Is this my business?"

  Christian bit his lip, refusing to answer. Derrick slipped his hand down the front of Christian's boxers, sliding a single finger from the base of his erect penis all the way to the tip where a drop of fluid leaked out.

  Derrick brought his finger to his lips so he could taste him. Christian's erotic flavor lingered on his tongue. "Is your cock mine?"

  Christian's pupils were so dilated. They looked nearly black with only the faintest of silver gray rings. "Yes," he whispered. "It's yours."

  Derrick rewarded him by circling all of his fingers around the base of Christian's cock and sliding his hand up softly. The touch was whisper soft around his cock and made Christian buck forward. "Stop torturing me," he wailed.

  Derrick couldn't keep it up if he wanted to. His cock was so hard it ached. He turned Christian around, bending him over the bed where he could see his asshole, shining out to him like a beacon of pleasure.

  Derrick stepped back for a moment to simply admire the position Christian was in, ass up, willing and waiting. His toned body rippled in anticipation. The tattoos on his arms, shoulders, and back seemed to come alive as the muscles beneath jumped.

  He ached to be inside that ass but needed a taste first. His hands cupped Christian's globes, reverently, as he spread them open and leaned for
ward, giving him a kiss. Christian leaped and then cooed when Derrick let the tip of his tongue flick against the puckered hole.

  Derrick licked at him, never inserting, always hinting at the pleasure that was to come. For a moment he thought about reining it in, finding a bottle of lube and using his fingers to get Christian acclimated to his size, but his wolf refused. He didn't want to have sex with Christian. He wanted to claim him, and to him, that required doing it the shifter way.

  Christian stilled when he felt Derrick's large crown against his tiny hole.

  "But—" he started.

  "Shh, trust me," Derrick said, pressing his fingers against Christian's ass cheeks so hard there were white crowns around his fingertips. His cock spasmed and a jet of fluid burst out from the tip, landing against Christian's hole. He used his tip to spread that fluid around, waiting for it to relax the entrance.

  Christian moaned almost immediately as the sensitizing effects of Derrick's pre-cum began. "What is that? What the fuck…?" His words dissolved into a single wail when Derrick pressed his tip in, pushing against the tight outer ring.

  He worked his cock slowly, not wanting to hurt Christian, but wanting him to experience fully what it meant to be with him, what he could do. He waited for his cock to leak and made sure to coat Christian's back entrance so that a few minutes later, Christian was whimpering and his hole was slick enough for Derrick to do what he'd wanted to do for days.

  He thrust forward. One sure, firm stroke. Christian bucked and then collapsed back down on the mattress. Derrick was buried deep inside of the other man, and as he allowed Christian to become accustomed to the large invader, he had only one thought; he was home.

  #

  Christian bit the blanket, wanting to scream at the top of his lungs. He'd never been so filled, so stuffed absolutely. He'd worked himself into such a state before Derrick had come in that he'd been nearly ready to jump his bones. But then, Derrick had acted so coolly. It had made him angrier and hornier.

  He pushed back, needing to prove to Derrick that he was strong too, that he could take it. Derrick pressed his fingers harder against his cheeks. He would bruise for sure. The thought of that didn't upset him as much as it should.

  Derrick slid back, nearly all the way out, before plunging in again. Christian liked how he wasn't taking it easy on him. He preferred this, rough, real. Hard.

  "Fuck, you are so tight. I've wanted inside of you for days. It was worth it," Derrick said, his words thick with desire. He started a continuous movement, sliding in and out.

  Whatever he'd used in the beginning, it had seemed like it was his own ejaculate, but cum never did what Derrick's did. It had helped relax his hole and had heightened the nerve endings until it felt one thousand times better than it ever had with any other man. He reveled in the feeling now.

  "Why are you biting the blanket?" Derrick asked through clenched teeth.

  "I don't…want to make…noise," Christian managed between gasps.

  "No one can hear us. No one else stays on this side."

  How could he have an entire wing to himself? Christian pushed that question back to the furthest corner of his mind. He spat the blanket out and moaned loudly, letting himself make all the noises he'd kept back. Derrick increased the tempo, slamming into him. The sound of skin against skin filled his ears.

  His cock rubbed against the smooth blanket with each stroke. His balls were tight, and he was going to come soon.

  "That's right, baby, let yourself explode," Derrick said, somehow sensing his impending climax. "Show me how much you like me."

  Fucker, Christian thought even while blinding white pleasure built in the base of his cock, shooting up and out through the tip as he splashed his come all over the blanket. He hollered and wailed, loving every moment of his orgasm.

  Derrick growled, thrusting forward once more. His cock stayed lodged inside Christian, and he felt it somehow grow larger, as if the head of his cock had swollen, putting pressure right against his g-spot.

  Christian came again almost instantly, but Derrick remained. Christian felt the warmth of Derrick's hot seed shoot inside of his body. He imagined it filling up his greedy hole. The moment lasted forever, Derrick swollen and locked inside him, as Christian jerked and moaned through what felt like a never-ending orgasm.

  When Derrick finally was able to slide out of Christian's ass, he collapsed on the bed. He pulled his own body up, so he laid on the mattress properly. Wordlessly, Derrick slid Christian's exhausted body up to him and held Christian tightly against his sweat-slickened chest. Derrick nuzzled his face into the crook of Christian's neck and then quickly fell asleep. The sound of his soft breathing helped Christian's own eyelids grow heavy. His body was finally satisfied and calm. He let himself fall asleep in Derrick's arms.

  Chapter 9

  Christian took a short sip out of a dainty, gold-rimmed porcelain teacup. Emma, Derrick's mother, had frostily informed him that the cup had been passed down through the generations.

  Fragile, she had called it.

  Irreplaceable, she'd also said.

  And then she'd expected him to drink out of it. It was more likely that she'd said all that so that he would be uncomfortable. Which he was.

  Christian had taken the first sip with a trembling hand, and his shaking hadn't stopped with any of the subsequent sips. If anything, the shaking had gotten worse as caffeine flooded his nervous system. He set the cup down and readjusted his bottom in the seat.

  From the moment he'd woken there had been a slight soreness. One that was familiar, but somehow altogether more than any feeling he'd had in the past after a night of passion.

  Christian studied the delicate, hand-painted pink flowers that circled his cup. A night of passion from which he'd woken up alone. At first, he'd gone through the adjoining door from his room to the next, assuming Derrick was in there, maybe showering where he had all of his toiletries. But the bed hadn't even been slept in. That made sense since Christian knew he'd slept snuggled in Derrick's embrace for the rest of the night. Obviously, at some time in the very early morning, Derrick had woken up, though.

  A maid had found Christian wondering the halls of the west wing searching for Derrick. She'd kindly brought him to the dining room, explaining that the Robichaud family joined in that room every morning.

  That was how Christian had found himself drinking from old, passive-aggressive teacups while Derrick's mother nibbled on a piece of toast while swiping through pages of what looked like a gossip mag on her tablet while Derrick's grandmother, known as Mémé, scribbled answers on a newspaper crossword.

  Mémé was a sturdy woman who did not look her age. She'd seemed surprised, briefly, to see Christian sitting at the long table but then had turned all of her attention to the clue at four across. Every once in a while, Mémé shouted out a question. After the first time, when Emma, had simply continued nibbling and reading, Christian answered. Mémé had mumbled incoherently and scribbled Christian's answer down.

  "New York state of mind," she croaked, out of nowhere.

  "Billy Joel?" Christian offered, helpfully. Emma never even looked up from her tablet.

  "Damn Yankee sympathizers," Mémé muttered.

  Christian thought Mémé was maybe a bit of a bigot.

  Footsteps approached from just outside the wide arched entrance. Christian only noticed them because of how quickly, and surely they sounded, and because of how awkwardly quiet it was inside the dining room. The senior Derrick strolled in first. He looked freshly showered and dressed for a day at the office in a brown suit. He gave his wife a kiss on the cheek and patted his mother affectionately on the head before sitting down directly from Christian, despite there being at least ten other chairs for him to choose from.

  "Sleep well?" Christian asked, not daring to pick up his cup now. The senior Derrick had sat across from him for a reason, Christian didn't feel like dancing around it.

  "Yes."

  Christian looked around the r
oom. "That's…good," he offered lamely. He pushed back from the table after the senior Derrick made it clear he was not going to respond. Christian saw no reason to push it, or to even finish the meal. He should, in fact, just leave the mansion entirely. "Thank you for breakfast—"

  "Christian, there you are," Derrick said as Christian was in mid-rise from his chair. Derrick hurried into the room as if he had been searching for him all morning.

  Christian plopped back down. "Yep, here I am," he said, irritation clear in his voice. He'd searched for Derrick, who hadn't even left a note. Now Derrick wanted to make it look like he'd been searching for him?

  Derrick had the decency to at least pause on his way. He didn't blush or fall to his knees begging, but he at least looked down, briefly chastised at the floor. "I thought we should do a tour today. See the pack land and the businesses we control."

  "Will you be taking your PR adviser up to the Babineaux territory? That's where you'll need the most advice," the senior Derrick suggested, but like it was a challenge.

  "We'll head up there if there is time. Plenty of proud Robichaud businesses to show my newest employee," Derrick said smoothly.

  Christian was missing something. What was up with these Babineaux? He got the idea that they were possibly another large family in the area. They'd been mentioned so often, and each time, Derrick had hurried to change the subject.

  "Ready?" Derrick prompted.

  "No," Christian said, turning back toward the table and away from Derrick. "I haven't finished my coffee."

  The senior Derrick stared at them and then, weirdly, his lips twitched into an almost smile.

  "Fastest long distance animal," Mémé barked to no one.

  "Pronghorn," Christian replied immediately.