Page 19 of Purchased

He emphasizes that point by letting his thumb ghost over my clit for a moment or two before letting go of my neck and using that hand on the showerhead. Fingering me, teasing me, rubbing me, and letting the water run over my clit in between sessions of stimulation until I feel as though my knees are going to give out completely.

He doesn’t let me fall. He leans me back against his body, holds on with arms wrapped around me, and uses his agile fingers to drive me to the brink of not only orgasm, but sanity. My mind is devoid of thought, filled with chemical impulses of arousal and need. I want to come more than I have ever wanted anything in life. I want to come like I want to fucking breathe. There is no part of me that wants anything other than orgasm. I would fucking die if only he would let me come.

I don’t know how he keeps me on the verge like this, how he seems to understand what every jolt of my hips and shudder of my breath means. It is like I am a book he has already read, and he is like a movie I have never seen, larger than life and full of more charisma than I can handle.

I do not know how long he keeps me like that in the shower, holding me in thrall to my own desire, but I know that when he does finally let me come, I do so screaming and begging and writhing on his hand. And I know that afterward, I am absolutely exhausted, from the auction, from the shifting, from the running, and especially from the coming.

CHAPTER5

Armand

After my wailing, shrieking, writhing mate reaches climax under my hand, I take her to bed where she sleeps in my arms. The barrier of propriety between us has been broken. She is mine, and she will only become more mine hour by hour, day by day.

In the past, a female in my bed has always been more like a warm obstacle to a comfortable night’s sleep, but it is different with Beatrix. She feels as though she belongs with me, lying on my arm, taking up too much of the bed, stealing the sheets, moving in the middle of the night, all habits I would usually find absolutely insufferable. I do more than tolerate them from her, I enjoy them. They are reminders that she is here with me.

We wake with the train still rolling, not far from our destination. We have moved from public to private tracks, and so we are moving at a clip through countryside where most have no right to be. Some call it a farm. We call it our territorial lands. They are open and they cover hundreds of miles of rolling fields and forests, all surrounding a palace that belongs to my family.

“Good morning, Beatrix.”

She opens her eyes and I see the bolt of consternation in their deep brown gaze.

I roll out of bed, giving her some space as she gathers the sheet up over her breasts.

“So that all really happened.”

“Yes,” I smile. “It did. Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” she says.

I toss her a shirt. “Try not to rip this one up,” I tell her.

She gives me a little smirk. Not quite sorry. Not quite unrepentant either. She shrugs the shirt over her head and pulls her hair out from the collar. Her beauty is natural, dark, and wildly worrisome for a man like me who needs to maintain control for everyone’s sake and safety.

She slides out of bed, looking slightly tousled and quite adorable. I wrap my arms around her and draw her into an embrace. I want her to know that my affection endures in spite of our rough start.

We are still some way from the train platform as we wake and breakfast. The dining car has plenty available. I notice she goes for the croissants and brioche again. My mate likes her butter-rich baked goods.

I take the opportunity to introduce her to Daniel and Marcel, the latter of whom is a man older than me by ten years, a sleek, smart member of the pack who I suspect may already know what concerns me. He might have put two and two together. He might not.

“Daniel, Marcel, this is Beatrix. My mate.”

“I had the honor of biting your ankles last night,” Marcel says with absolutely nothing in the way of refinement.

“You were one of the many who had to give chase?” Beatrix replies in kind. “How many did it take to bring me down? Four?”

“Five,” Daniel says, butting in. “You gave us a good chase.”

“I was just getting started,” she says. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

“Alright, that’s enough. There will be no more running.”

Marcel, Daniel, and Beatrix exchange looks that suggest they all know better. I too, know better, but it is my job to enforce order.

I put my hand on the back of her neck and squeeze lightly. Does she remember what it felt like to have my teeth sinking in last night? I hope so. I hope this triggers some semblance of obedience.

I feel her tense under my fingers, then relax as a wave of submission runs through her. I lean in and speak in a low growl next to her ear.

“Better,” I say. “Daniel, we’re almost home. My mate will need a complete wardrobe…”

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