Romance: Auctioned To The Panther: BBW Dragon Shifter Romance Standalone (Wild Shifters Book 2) (8 page)

For a moment, Christian didn't know what to feel: sadness at Grace's leaving or anger at Miranda's actions. All he knew was that suddenly, he was shifting unbidden into his panther form, snarling at Miranda.

Grace had been watching the whole scene play out with an avid interest. It made so much sense, she realized, that Miranda, instead of being the victim, was the one who had scorned Christian. Now, for whatever reason, the woman had returned to try to hurt Christian again. Well, Grace wasn't about to let that happen, not now that she'd realized she loved the man dearly.

She watched in shock as the man whom she loved changed from man to beast in front of her eyes, though—it seemed Miranda had got something correct, at least. Where moments before had stood a tall, lithe man, now there was a sleek panther who eyed Miranda and flicked its tail back and forth.

Miranda screamed shrilly and backed away from him, clearly terrified, but Christian felt little satisfaction in the way she fled. Instead, he felt only an aching sorrow at being left alone and knowing that Grace would never accept him now. Why the woman had had to meddle in his life, breaking his heart all over again, he couldn't understand. Maybe she just did it for fun... He growled again after Miranda's receding form and then focused on calming himself down enough that he could turn back to his human form in case Miranda sent the authorities sniffing around.

Back in his human form, he turned dejectedly towards the house and was surprised to see Grace standing there in the back doorway, eyes raking appraisingly over his now-naked form (his clothes, of course, had shredded when he'd undergone the change from human to panther and back again).

He took a step towards her, holding out his hand beseechingly—if she hadn't thought him a monster before, she had to think so now, now that she was startled to have seen him shift forms like that, especially since he'd shifted out of anger. She had to be confused and upset—and honestly, she had to be scared: if he couldn't control the panther side when he got emotional, as she must have surmised, how could he possibly keep her safe from himself.

He wasn't surprised when she ran back into the house, and although he wanted to chase after her, he also knew that would only scare her further. He walked slowly into the house, hugging himself and resigning himself to a life alone.

He didn't know why he had expected things to go better with Grace than they ever had with anyone else. Miranda was right, he was a monster, he was a beast. He hadn't
lied
to Grace, really, in the time that she'd been there, but that said, he should have told her the truth a long time ago. He'd just been so worried that she'd run away from him, that she'd be scared of him. He'd just wanted to win her trust before he told her what he really was.

Christian stopped short when he found Grace standing there in the hallway waiting for him, holding his robe out to him. “It's chilly out there,” she said softly, taking a careful step forwards. “You should put this on.”

Christian reached for the robe with shaking hands and pulled it around himself, tying the belt around his waist. As soon as he'd got it fastened, Grace was in his arms. He wanted to believe this wasn't a dream, but it all seemed so surreal: the fight with Miranda and now Grace here with him despite all that she'd seen and heard. He tightened his arms around her, though, wanting to cling to this dream for as long as possible.

Her speech broke the spell. “I'm still mad at you,” she said, voice muffled against his chest. “You should've told me what you were, rather than lying to me for the past month. But you make me feel safe.”

Christian frowned and tried to pull out of her grasp, not understanding where this was coming from. Shouldn't she be running from him in terror right now?

“You should also have told me about Miranda,” she continued, refusing to let him go. “Because that was weird when she showed up here this afternoon and tried to tell me what a horrible person you are. But I guess I knew deep down that it wasn't true, the things she was saying—I guess I've known for a little while now that I actually love you, more than anyone I've ever met before. And
despite
the fact that you turn into a panther.”

She pulled back, a smile on her face. “Although that explains the mysterious streak you've got going on.”

She stood up on her toes, trying to reach his lips for a kiss, but Christian pulled away, feeling dazed. “You're not angry?” he asked, sounding vulnerable. “Or terrified?”

Grace snorted. “If you were going to eat me, I guess I figure you would've done it by now,” she said with a shrug. “Also, I know that you really care about me, and you've taken such great care of me. I can't think that it was all just to get me to fall in love with you.”

“You're in love with me,” Christian said, making it sound almost like a question. He shook his head and tried again, this time sounding awed: “You're in love with me.”

He leant down to kiss her finally, their meeting full of fire and passion. He backed her against the wall, still kissing her with desperate ferocity that was unlike any of the kisses they had shared previously. No, this was no slow slide of tongues against one another: instead, they met with clashing teeth and firm pressure against one another's lips, and they barely surfaced for air.

Grace pushed against the wall and used it to get leverage as she pressed down on Christian's strong thigh where it was nestled in between her own. She tangled her left fingers with his and used the other hand to pull him closer so that there was no space left between their bodies.

Christian began biting a mark into her neck and paused for a second, pulling away slightly so he could look Grace in the eye. “You're my
mate
,” he said, hoping she understood without too much explanation. He didn't want to stop what he was doing, but neither did he want to claim her without her fully realizing what that meant. “You're my
mate
, and you're mine for good. For the rest of our lives.”

He whined in the back of his throat when Grace rocked against him, squeezing their hands tight together. “Yours,” she agreed. “I'm all yours.”

Christian dropped his forehead down to rest against her shoulder, breathing heavily and willing himself to calm down enough to have this conversation. “Grace, what I mean is…”

“I know, I know,” Grace said, equally breathless. “I'm your mate, your panther side has chosen me, okay—
okay
. Now just take me already!”

Christian shook his head at her impatience but went back to biting a bruising mark into her neck, right where the tendons of her shoulder and her neck came together. This way, any other shifter who came across the woman would know that she belonged to him—that she was his mate, and only his.

Grace cried out at the pain of the bite, but when Christian made to pull away, her hand was there on the back of his skull, keeping him close. “Please,” she begged. “Please, mark me, make me yours—I'm all yours Christian.”

And so Christian continued what he was doing for a moment, leaving a trail of marks that would be unmistakable to anyone, human or otherwise. He tore open the blouse that Grace was wearing, pleasantly surprised to find that she wasn't wearing a bra beneath it and that instead, her perky tits were now free, nipples pebbling beneath the pads of his fingers.

Grace groaned and arched against him, throwing her arms up in the arm above her head, wrists crossed. Christian helpfully pinned them there with one of his own hands, continuing to suck lightly at her chest even as his other hand snaked lower to come up underneath her skirt.

“Christian!” Grace gasped, sounding as though she was already brimming with desire even though they'd just begun. He wanted to take his time with her, make everything perfect—now she truly was his mate. Then again, he didn't know how long he'd last, with her rubbing herself against him like that.

“You're so gorgeous,” Christian said, pulling back to take a long look at her flushed face. He wanted to memorize every detail about her, never forget a thing—but he supposed that wouldn't matter so much, now that she was
his
. He had the rest of a lifetime to explore every inch of her curves.

Grace moaned and shifted her hands, testing his grip on her wrists; he didn't let her move an inch, and after a moment, she fell still again. “You're so good for me, Grace,” he murmured, burying his face in her neck for a moment and breathing in her scent, overcome by how wonderful she was. “So, so good for me.”

“Just for you,” Grace agreed. She wriggled against his fingers where they rested against the outside of her pussy. “Please?” she asked, but it lacked the playful tone that she usually had and instead just came across as wanton and needy.

Christian smiled and pulled back, slowly beginning to remove his clothes and watching as Grace scurried to do the same. He'd always intended to mate with her in a bed, do things properly, but...well, he didn't think either of them would make it that far. Anyway, there was always later. The thought brought an even wider smile to his face, one that Grace responded too with a smile of her own.

“Yeah,” Grace said, even though he hadn't said anything. “Yeah—me too.”

Christian laughed and pulled her close again, relishing the feel of her warm, naked skin against his own. “Yeah,” he agreed, pleased with how much on the same wavelength they seemed to be. They were going to have a lot of fun together…

He carefully aligned them, lifting her so that her legs were up around his waist, and let her slide slowly down onto his cock, making them both moan in pleasure. He tightened his hold on her hips, sure that he'd be leaving bruises there as well, on her milky white skin—but that was all right now; she was
his
.

As if in echo of that thought, Grace surged forward and began working on leaving a mark of her own, just beneath Christian's collarbone. She used the wall as leverage to meet Christian's thrusts, both of them building rapidly towards climax.

Christian could feel her tight heat becoming slicker and slicker around him, the walls of her opening quivering as she strained against an orgasm that would have her seeing stars. When Christian's own orgasm hit, his knees almost buckled, which would have sent them both toppling to the ground, but he managed to recover at the last second, bracing himself against the wall beside Grace's head.

She blinked dazedly up at him, and it almost felt like it was all too much—her beauty, his desire, their wonderful coupling, the way she was still turning him on even though he'd need to wait a little while before he could take her again (and next time would be in a bed, he promised himself that!). He slowly pulled out and let Grace down; as one, they both slid down the wall to the floor.

Grace pillowed her head against his shoulder, and Christian rested his own head atop hers. “I love you,” Grace said quietly, as if it still needed to be said. “I may be more of a dog person, and panthers aren't my favorite animal, but I guess it's okay that you're a cat.”

Christian snorted and shoved playfully at her shoulder. She was a dog person, hmm? They'd just have to work on that. Before she could say anything else to tease him, he captured her mouth in another kiss.

***

PREVIEW OF ‘AUCTIONED TO THE DRAGON’ BY ASHLEY HUNTER

Chapter 1

“We’ve got her going for 1,000 dollars. Do I hear 1,300? Going once… Going twice… And sold! Ms. Karolyn, has been sold for 1 grand!” The boisterous auctioneer declared rhythmically.

Adelaide stood backstage and wiped her sweaty palms on the sides of her little black dress. Her body reacted this way when she got nervous. She had never done anything like this before and standing amongst thin, blonde, quintessentially gorgeous girls, she knew why: she couldn’t compete with them.

“Next bachelorette participant coming to the stage is Miss Adelaide Frasier!”

“Well, here goes nothing.”  Adelaide mumbled to herself before she pushed open the curtain to face the harsh lights and stares from men of prestige. She took a deep breath; it was challenging enough for her to stand in front of such elite businessmen and socialites as the shy girl that she was, but the worst part hadn’t even started yet.

“Let’s start the bidding at 300. Do I hear 300?” The bid caller suggested. Adelaide received a silent crowd before one man lifted his white card and silently agreed to the suggested bid. She ran her fingers through her hair and felt embarrassed.  

James Weston had attended the Saint Vincent’s charity auction event every year. He donated 5,000 dollars at the beginning of the affair and stayed to watch aimlessly as men would bid and thirst over women on stage. This year however, the sponsors had requested that all in attendance bid on anyone of the young women to actively donate and help a greater cause.

The idea did not please James much. He had always shown up purely for business; a woman was the last thing on his mind. Not that he was gay. He wasn’t even close to that, but in the Upper East Side, all women looked the same: tall, thin, and gorgeous in the most obvious way. None of them interested James anymore.

He lifted his eyes from his cell phone screen for a moment to see a woman with curves that would put an hourglass to shame. Her hair was dark and styled freely in a sea of endless curls.

He was captivated by her sheepish smile and hazel eyes, which she bounced around the room before casting them downwards. She enthralled him instantly. He could tell she was different and that captivated him. He didn’t even bother to figure out what the current bid on her was.

“3,500.” He announced calmly. The auctioneer’s eyes widened and the woman’s eyebrows rose. That was pocket change to James. He was the CEO of Weston Corp. a business that owned a chain of Weston hotels along the east coast.

His real success however, came after his investment in an oil mining company found the biggest oil well in Saudi Arabia. This export of oil to many countries around the world had given him the income of a billionaire.