Chapter Two
DESI
It’d been a week since I first scented her. It’d been a week of torture with a wolf that refused to stop growling and a cock that wouldn’t go down. The urge to break into her apartment and demand her surrender as my dick drove in and out of her tight pussy was unbearable. I’d barely maintained control of myself, let alone the entire pack. They didn’t think I had noticed their avoidance of me or the skittishness of my beta, Mark. They read their alpha well; I was grouchy, in a perpetual state of horniness, only minimally out ranking my wolf. I’d avoided shifting all week in fear of my wolf seeking her out against my will. And once it found her, I had no hope of stopping it from taking her… with or without her consent.
“Why don’t you introduce yourself?” Mark asked, stepping into my living room. He plopped down on the loveseat. He tried to act casual, but his body language revealed his uneasiness. “You own her building after all,” he added, averting his eyes when I continued to glare at him.
“I can’t be nice right now.” The words were delivered through gritted teeth; the deep pull in my groin ached just at the mention of her.
He took a deep breath, running his hand through his sandy blonde hair; his honey eyes seemed to widen marginally, enough to clue me in on his concern.
I sat up, setting my beer on the coffee table. I slid along the cold leather of the sofa, willing the frigid fabric to affect my dick. No such luck.
I leaned my elbows on my knees and bent closer to my beta. Mark’s gaze met mine, knowing it was going to be important if his alpha lifted off the couch for the first time today other than to get another beer. “I’ve jerked off ten times in the last two days, and not once has my cock laid limp afterwards. There’s a constant fire in my balls that only she can put out. If that wasn’t bad enough, my wolf is damn near shredding my insides trying to claw its way out so he can run and claim her. It’s been hell trying to rein him in when our mate is less than a block away, a dessert teasing us with her delicious scent all day and night. You compound those on top of dealing with maintenance issues for all our investment buildings, accounting questions, pack concerns and every other fucking load of crap anyone wants to drop on my door step and you can see why I can’t be a nice person right now.”
I snatched the beer off the coffee table and chugged the rest of what was in the bottle. I wished I could drown my wolf, stop the incessant clawing between mewls that mimicked a damn pussy; he was trying everything he could, hell bent on breaking me down and forcing my body to surrender to the change.
Mark watched me closely, considering me. He was a man who usually thought before he spoke, so this was nothing new. Abruptly he stood. “Eventually you’re going to cave. Either you get close to her now while you’re still thinking somewhat coherently, or you get close to her as a wild beast who, regardless of whether you claim her or not, will certainly chase her off.”
With his blunt blow to my gut delivered, Mark left.
I scrubbed my face. I knew he was right. Damn it. Why did fate have to mate me with a human? If it were another werewolf, I would have claimed her already. I would have thrown her on her stomach and demanded her surrender as I pounded into her sweet pussy the moment I smelled her as mine. As a human, I had to worry about my speed, my force and my strength with her. As a human, I had to take care to not break any of her tiny bones as I thrashed my burly body against hers. I was fucked if she had an underweight model’s frame.
Shit. I couldn’t take it any longer. I had to know. I had to at least see who the stars had matched me with.
####
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Christin Lovell was born and raised in Charleston, SC, but now lives in the hottest place on earth: Orlando, FL. She has three beautiful children who keep her running non-stop, but would love to adopt a few more. When she’s not juggling life and kids, you'll find her huddled away somewhere writing her next book or happily reading someone else's. Like most authors she’s come across, she’s a coffee addict, owns far too many books than she can fit on her shelves, and she goes to work in her pajamas a lot.
CONNECT WITH HER HERE:
www.christinlovell.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorchristinlovell
Twitter: https://twitter.com/christinlovell OR @christinlovell
Instagram: http://instagram.com/christinlovell
*~*~*~*
All She Wants for Christmas
By Paige Tyler
All She Wants for Christmas
By Paige Tyler
Hayley Knowles has always fantasized about getting spanked by her husband, Conner. When she lets her secret desire slip at a Christmas party, she’s stunned to discover not only have her friends gotten spanked before, but love it.
Each story the women tell of the first time they got spanked is sexier than the one before, and after hearing them, Hayley wants to be spanked even more. But how can she possibly ever get her husband to do it, especially since she’s too shy to tell him?
This is the holiday season, though, so maybe Hayley might get exactly what she wants for Christmas!
Dedication
With special thanks to my extremely patient and understanding husband. Without your help and support I couldn’t have pursued my dream job of becoming a writer. You’re my sounding board, my idea man, my critique partner, and the absolute best research assistant any girl could ask for!
Thank you.
And thank you to the wonderful fangirls on my Street Team. You all rock!
CHAPTER ONE
Hayley Knowles loved everything about Christmas from decorating the house to shopping for gifts to baking cookies. She especially loved the party she and her husband Conner held every year. It wasn’t a huge gathering or anything like that, just a small get-together with their closest friends, but they always had the best time.
Not that any of them really needed an excuse to hang out together. Hayley smiled as she listened to her friends reveal what they’d gotten their significant others for Christmas. Since all of the men were playing pool in the game room downstairs, there was no chance of the women being overheard.
Hayley and the other girls had been best friends from the moment they’d met in grade school. Somehow, they’d managed to keep their friendship strong through high school and college, and when they’d all graduated and moved back to Seattle, they picked up right where they’d left off.
Lyndsay and Monica sat on the other end of the big sectional couch from Hayley, sipping spiked eggnog. Petite with dark-hair and brown eyes, they looked so much alike they could have been sisters. They acted like sisters, too. It made Hayley wonder if the two girls had been separated at birth.
Genevieve was curled up in one of the overstuffed chairs, a glass of wine in her hand. The tall, slender redhead was as fiery as her hair color suggested. Outgoing and often outrageous, she was always doing something wild. If it wasn’t rock climbing, it was scuba diving, or hang gliding, or something else equally adventurous. Most recently she’d taken up skydiving with her current boyfriend, Chase. Now that was one thing Hayley could honestly say she’d never had the urge to try.
If Genevieve was the thrill-seeker, Jill, was the complete opposite. Always calm and dependable, the blonde was the most mature of the group. Which was probably why she was the one they all went to when they needed advice.
As she sipped her eggnog, Hayley realized the conversation had gone from what they were giving their boyfriends and husbands for Christmas to what they hoped their boyfriends and husbands were going to give them.
“Monica and I were just talking about that the other day,” Lyndsay said. “We’d really like to drop the kids at our parents’ so that Ryan and Cole can pamper us for an entire day. Breakfast in bed, followed by a bubble bath for two, then a nice, long full-body massage, and a romantic candlelit dinner.”
Genevieve rolled her eyes. “Sounds boring to me.”
“That’s just because Lyndsay forgot to ment
ion the part about the mind-blowing sex,” Monica said. “We’d get to that part at some point.”
The redhead shook her head. “If you’re going to ask for the perfect Christmas present, you need to think big. I’d want Chase to whisk me off to a private island somewhere, rub my naked body down with oil, then make love to me for hours on end out on the beach while the waves rolled over us.”
When Hayley and the other girls laughed, Genevieve gave them a disbelieving look.
“Come on,” she said. “I can’t be the only one who has kinky Christmas wishes!”
Hayley blushed and hastily sipped her eggnog so her friends wouldn’t see how red her face was. She wouldn’t exactly call making love on the beach kinky—at least not compared to the fantasies she’d been having lately. Just thinking about them made her pulse quicken.
“Well,” Jill said, giving them a mischievous smile. “I’ve been thinking about how much fun it would be if Philip tied me up and had his way with me.”
Hayley almost choked on her eggnog. She wasn’t the only one staring at the blonde-haired girl in disbelief. Lyndsay, Monica, and Genevieve all looked just as surprised by the other girl’s admission.
“You have to be kidding,” Monica said.
Jill shrugged. “What can I say? There’s just something that turns me on at the thought of being bound and helpless and totally at my lover’s mercy.”
Hayley could only gaze at the other girl in wonder. Well, this was definitely a side of her normally reserved friend she’d never seen before.
“So,” Genevieve said, sipping her wine. “What about you, Hayley? What’s your kinky Christmas fantasy?”
Hayley shifted on the couch, suddenly extremely aware of her friends looking at her. “Um…” she stammered. “I don’t really have any.”
Jill laughed. “You must. We all do.”
Hayley tucked her long, dark hair behind her ear with a shrug. “Nope. I’m pretty boring, I’m afraid.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Genevieve scoffed.
“Me, too,” Monica said. “Come on, Haley. We all told what we want for Christmas. How about you?”
Beside the other girl, Lyndsay was grinning. “You know we’re going to wear you down you until you tell us.”
Hayley couldn’t help but laugh. She normally wouldn’t have succumbed to their friendly pressure, but the rum in the eggnog had her feeling much less inhibited than usual.
“Okay, but you have to promise that you won’t think I’m weird,” she said, then hurried on before she lost her nerve. “I’d like Conn to spank me. I mean, I’ve never been spanked before, so I’m not really sure if I’d even like it, but every time I think about him putting me over his knee, I get so excited.”
Hayley held her breath as she waited for her friends to say something, but they were all staring at her in astonishment. She felt her face go red.
“Oh, God,” she moaned. “You do think I’m weird. Forget I said that, okay?”
Jill shook her head. “We don’t think you’re weird at all. At least I don’t. I’m just surprised. Not by the fact that you get turned on by the thought of Conner spanking you, I mean, but that you’ve never been spanked before.”
“Me, too,” Lyndsay and Monica said in unison.
Genevieve nodded over the rim of her wine glass.
Hayley looked at them incredulously. “Wait a minute. All of you have gotten spanked by a guy before?”
The other women nodded.
“You’ve really never been spanked?” Lyndsay asked.
Hayley shook her head. “Never.” She frowned. “I guess that means I really am weird since it seems I’m the only one who’s never had my bottom reddened.”
She grabbed a snowman-shaped sugar cookie from the plate on the coffee table and took a bite as she curled her feet under her. How could she be the only one missing out?
Hayley had first discovered her secret desire to be spanked several months ago. She’d been flipping through a fashion magazine at the hair salon when an article caught her eye. It’d been a story about fulfilling your wildest bedroom fantasies, and though she’d skimmed through most of it, she stopped when she came to the part about spanking. According to the article, many modern women found being put over their lover’s knee for a spanking incredibly arousing. Admittedly, Hayley’d been shocked at the idea at first, but the more she’d thought about it, the more intrigued she was by the notion of getting spanked. Since then, she found herself daydreaming about it all the time. But she could never see herself asking her husband to spank her. It would be too embarrassing.
“So, why didn’t any of you ever tell me that you were into spanking?” she asked after a moment.
Jill shrugged. “I guess we all assumed you’d done it, too.”
Hayley’s brow furrowed. “Well, I haven’t. And now that I know you girls have all done it, I’m jealous. Tell me what it’s like.”
Her friends all looked at each other as if trying to decide who wanted to go first. After a moment, Genevieve finally spoke.
“The first time I got spanked was my sophomore year in college,” she said. “It was my birthday and my boyfriend Brad was taking me out to dinner to celebrate…”
* * * * *
Genevieve was just trying to decide which top to wear with the mini-skirt she’d bought at the mall that afternoon when Brad knocked on the door. She glanced at her watch and was stunned to see that it was already almost seven. Her boyfriend had a thing about being prompt. It made her wonder how they ever got together in the first place, since she was always running late. Hanging the top that she’d been thinking about wearing back in the closet, she hurried across her room to answer the door.
Dressed in a shirt and tie, Brad looked as looked as gorgeous as he always did, and Genevieve felt her pulse skip a beat at the sight of him. Taking a step closer, she went up on tiptoe to greet him with a kiss.
“You’re early,” she said.
“Apparently,” he said, taking in her half-naked form appreciatively.
She threw him a quick glance over her shoulder as she crossed the room to her closet. “I’m still trying to decide what I want to wear.”
“Decide fast. Our reservation is at eight, and it takes almost an hour to get to the restaurant.”
Genevieve nodded, but ten minutes later, she still hadn’t picked out a top. Even though the skirt was a simple black one, she couldn’t seem to find anything to wear with it. Dammit. She should have bought a top to match. Maybe she could borrow something from her roommate.
“Just wear anything,” Brad told her when she started rummaging through her roommate’s closet.
She whirled around to glare at him. “I can’t just wear anything. It has to match.”
He lifted a brow. “You’re wearing a black skirt, Genevieve. Everything goes with black. Besides you always look beautiful in whatever you wear.”
Muttering something insulting about men and their lack of fashion sense under her breath, Genevieve went back to raiding the closet when Brad caught her arm and turned her around to face him.
“I was going to do this after we got back, but I don’t think it can wait.”
She frowned as he led her across the small dorm room. “Brad, what are you…?” she began, only to let out a startled little gasp when he sat down on the bed and put her over his knee.
Genevieve immediately tried to push herself up, but a strong hand on her back held her in place, and all she could do was lay there with her head hanging down and her ass up in the air.
“I was just going to give you a playful birthday spanking, but since you’ve made me sit here and wait for so long, I think you need a good, sound spanking instead,” he said.
Her eyes went wide as she felt him push up her skirt. A spanking? She’d never been spanked in her life. Not even on her birthday!
She craned her neck to look at him over her shoulder. “Brad, wait…”
But her boyfriend’s hand was already coming do
wn on her upturned bottom. Smack!
“Owwww!” she yelped. “That hurt!”
He smacked her on the other cheek, harder this time. “Spankings are supposed to hurt. That’s how you learn from them.”
She opened her mouth to protest, only to let out another loud yelp as he spanked her again. He moved back and forth from one cheek to the other, ignoring her squeals as his hand came down over and over. It felt as if her entire ass was on fire. Her bottom might as well have been bare for all the good her panties did.
Ouch!
Then abruptly, the spanking stopped.
Genevieve knew she should push herself off her boyfriend’s lap before he could spank her some more, but Brad was already pulling down her panties.
Smack!
Biting back a yelp, Genevieve glared at him over her shoulder. “Hey! I’m only twenty, and you’ve spanked me a lot more than that.”
Brad’s mouth quirked. “That spanking was for not being ready for our date. I’m going to give you your birthday spanking now.”
Her eyes went wide. There was no way she could take that many more spanks, not when her ass was already stinging like crazy.
But instead of the quick flurry of hard smacks he’d administered before, these spanks were different. They were slow and methodical, with Brad counting out loud after each one. They still stung just as much, but he was doing something else that was making the whole thing seem distinctively sexual. After each slap, her boyfriend gave her ass a gentle but firm squeeze that had her wiggling all over his lap.
A Naughty Little Christmas (Cowboys, Cops, and Kilts: 8 Seasonally Seductive Romances from Bestselling Authors) Page 55
