Page 42 of Getting Down on the Farm: Vol. 1
I ripped one arm out of the snag of my sheets and threw it backwards, fingers formed in long claws. He caught my wrist in a firm grip, holding my arm straight.
"I fucked your ass in the woods, and I'd do it again," he rumbled, breath rushing over my shoulders. "I put you to bed. Went and waited outside the agency office until someone showed up this morning so I could grab the paperwork we need. Brought you breakfast."
I stilled. His grip on my wrist didn't loosen, but he moved my arm toward the iron-framed headboard.
"The paperwork," I repeated. I tossed my head and my werewolf—mywerewolf?—snorted and pushed the pillow back in place, keeping me on my belly and blinded.
"The paperwork," he said, slowing the words. "Ya know. To make it legal."
"Legal?" I squawked.
He growled and the all too familiar click of a belt made my traitorous pussy throb.
"Does my little berry need a reminder of why she's here on this farm?" Leather whistled as it was pulled free from belt loops. "I came here. Sniffed out the ripest, sweetest, silliest bitch I could find. Fucked her and showed her I could take care of her pretty pussy and perfect ass just the way she likes so she'd be my mate. Now I'm gonna take her and that plot of land they promised and make us a good life."
My mouth hung open and my curls were in my eyes and he was rooting around in blankets until he found my other arm. I didn't fight him this time as he pulled it free, also planting my hand around the bar of the headboard.
"Mate," was all I managed to say.
"You shouldn't've skipped dinner, Valerie Jones, you're not following along," he said.
My brow furrowed. "My last name is Blanchard."
He sighed behind me and then my eyes widened as leather twined around my wrists and the iron headboard and then my wrists again until the click of the buckle fastened shut once more, shackling my hands to the headboard. His weight lifted from the backs of my thighs, and the sheet was ripped away.
"Very funny," he muttered to my doggy patterned pajamas. The pants of which were promptly being tugged down and off my legs.
Mate. The word rang in my head.Mate. Paperwork.
"Valerie Blanchard," I murmured, suddenly wondering if I was the one who was confused.
Fabric dropped to wooden floorboards and then a warm and wonderfully soft furred body was stretching over me.
"Not. After. Tomorrow," his voice growled.
My brow furrowed and then it all sank in.
"You insufferable bastard," I said.
And helaughed,and the sound was lovely and familiar.
"You can't just come in here and strap me to my bed and tell me we're getting married and—fuck!"
He didn't get far, just lodged his cock inside of me enough to prove me wrong, apparently. He was slick, enough to make up a little bit for not prepping me, and seemed content to hold his place there, just tucked into me. His hands stroked my thighs, squeezed my ass, and then slid under my shirt, pushing it up and up. He paused, finding my breasts.
"Haven't had nearly enough time to take care of these sweeties," he said, more to himself. "Really lookin' forward to that."
And then my shirt was up, stuck around my bound arms, and covering my face. The pillow was pulled away and I wondered how fast this werewolf's mind ran, or if I just wasn't very smart, because I really hadn't seen this coming.
"There. Once more like this, for old time's sake," he said, that damn chuckle in the words. But he turned us on our sides, the leather belt pulling on my wrists gently, and we were both essentially naked, and he was touching me everywhere. His tongue lapped my shoulder, arms cradling me to his chest, hips bucking sweetly into me, hands petting my breasts and my pussy.
"You can't just go around fucking girls in bushes and then telling them they're your mate now," I said, but I was snuggling closer into that decadent chest.
"Can," he grunted. "Did. Only gotta work once."
I snorted. He snorted, and then I was giggling as I moaned, his arms circling my waist to work me along the dense length of his cock.
"Now you know how it's gonna be," he continued.
