The Beasts Boxed Set

Chapter 3-1

3

Olivia

The second the door of his makeshift dressing room slammed closed behind him, Wulf turned and pressed my back against it. He shifted me as if I weighed less than a feather so our eyes were level. He stared and stared.

I stared right back because he was inches away. All perfect, frantic alien and I was in his arms. Caught by his dark gaze.

“Mine.”

His eyes said he was deadly serious, and no matter what the handful of working brain cells I had left said to me, I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to look away. I had never had a man, any man, look at me like he was now.

Like I was beautiful. Perfect. Desired.

Jeez, I really was in over my head here. Things had gone a little crazy in the past two minutes.

“You should… you should probably put me down so I can get back to work.” Not that I had been working, but what was I supposed to say? I had felt almost sorry for him while I’d been watching him prepare to go onstage, but now I didn’t know what to think. Maybe he had gone crazy, because he seemed to be choosing me over the two pageant-queen hotties.

His eyes narrowed, but I wasn’t scared. Surprised, definitely. No, stunned. Holy crap. But not scared. “Really. I should go. I am going to get fired.”

“No. Stay. Mine.” The beast inside him was having none of it as he used one leg to prop me up—that hard thigh right between my legs and pressing against my center—as he moved those large hands to my sides. Every touch made me burn, like he was contagious, like this mating fever he had was infecting me.

One of his hands slid along the outer edge of my breast and down my side to cup my ass. I groaned, my eyes closing before I could stop myself. It had been too long since I’d been with anyone, and not one lover had ever touched me like this. Like I was soft and vulnerable and precious. “You should stop. You made a mistake. I’m no one.”

“Mate. Mine.”

My eyes flew open, realizing he was saying the same thing over and over. He wasn’t romantic. This wasn’t candlelight and roses. This was intense. This was possessiveness to the extreme. He’d practically kidnapped me. Damned if that fact didn’t make me all hot and melty. But I was a realist. This… obsession his beast seemed to have in me was wrong. Maybe it was my shampoo, a scent that was drawing him that his real mate had. “I’m… not.”

I kinda wanted to be, ’cause what girl didn’t want this kind of attention?

My resistance made him growl, and I felt the vibrations move from his chest and into mine.

“Name.” It wasn’t a question but a demand, and I’d heard enough about these Atlan beasts on the gossip sites to know he couldn’t really say full sentences, not while his beast was in control. Maybe the special translation brain chip I’d heard everyone in space got was broken. I clearly remembered Chet stating in the first episode that Wulf had been chosen as the first bachelor beast because of his ability to speak English. He could understand it fluently because of the processor he had in his head, but it didn’t give him the ability to speak very well. He had to know the language to do that. He was no dummy. Chet talked everyone up to make the show more fanciful and exotic, but I had no idea how to speak Atlan and I wasn’t savvy enough to take a class and be able to go to the planet and be a contestant on a reality show.

God, I’d never thought of that before, how hard it must be for him to be here. Now, with his beast all focused and growly and a little crazy? No wonder he was monosyllabic.

I licked my lips, and his piercing gaze followed the action. This close, I saw how dark his eyes were, how strong his jaw, the stark line of his nose, strong brow. Every inch of him was… more. As if human guys were wimps.

“I’m Olivia. Olivia Mercier.” I thought of Genevieve and Willow. The episodes all showed them talking and Wulf listening. I’d thought him quiet. Introverted. How had the two finalists gotten to know him when he’d rarely spoken?

“You have mate?”

This time it was a question, and I answered with the truth before I realized I’d blown my one chance to make sure he would let me go. “No. I’m single.”

The rumble in his chest said that information pleased him, and he lowered his nose to my neck, breathed deeply. I shivered. Oh. My. God.

“Mine.”

Was he ever planning on letting me down? My feet had to be two feet off the floor. The door was hard at my back, but he was equally solid against my front. I wasn’t going anywhere unless he decided it.

“Listen, Wulf.” I squirmed, placing my hands on his shoulders. God, the freaking muscles. With the half-ripped tuxedo dangling from his shoulders in tatters from when he’d shifted to his beast, my fingertips made contact with skin. Hot, soft skin that I really, really wanted to explore. Get a grip, Olivia.

“There has been some kind of mistake.”

“Mate.” His lips caressed the side of my neck, and I would have swooned if I’d been on my feet. Which I wasn’t. It was getting very hard to concentrate. He smelled like hot s*x. Like alpha male. Like heat and skin and something I knew was just him.

My body was responding to him as if it had a mind of its own. Or an inner girl beast. At least an inner nymphomaniac because I liked being manhandled by him. I was securely where he wanted me, but I wasn’t being hurt. I had a feeling it would upset him if he injured me somehow.

I was trying to think of something intelligent to say when he lifted me in his arms and carried me over to a high-backed chair nearly identical to the throne-like monstrosity he’d kicked through the back wall of the set. It was against a wall out of the way, as if it were in reserve in case the first one broke. Well, the first one did break, but that was kind of irrelevant now.

I thought he would sit down and place me in his lap, but no. He settled my ass all the way on top of the high back.

“Um… Wulf?”

My spot was barely wide enough to hold me without being uncomfortable. I felt like a doll propped up on a shelf, but I was far from doll-like. If I slid forward off the edge, I’d land several feet down and probably bounce off the chair’s comfy seat.

He placed his hand on my chest, just below my neck. Gently he pushed me until my back was against the wall. This was crazy! I was sitting on the top of his high-back chair, legs open, my p***y right there in front of his face. I was that high up. I was wearing my laundry day skirt, which rode way up my thighs.

“Um, Wulf.” This couldn’t be happening. Was this happening? What was he going to do? Was I going to let this happen?

His hands came to rest on my thighs, and he pushed my skirt higher, higher.

Oh s**t. I think so. Yes. No. Maybe?

Even though there was the seat of the chair between us, he was so big that he could lean forward and… he breathed me in. I was wet. I knew he would smell it. “Oh God.”

Wait, what panties was I wearing? And my thighs… I could see the dimples on them from here.

“Wulf.” That wasn’t a deterrent.

Dipping his head, he placed his lips on the inside of my thigh, right over those ripples of thick flesh, kissing both legs in turn, over and over. He didn’t seem to notice I wasn’t supermodel fit. In fact, he didn’t seem to notice one specific part of me other than my p***y.

“I taste now.”

I taste now. Holy s**t. I tensed, not knowing what to expect. Okay, I knew what to expect… but with him? Where I was sitting? Someone could come in at any time. In fact, I was surprised no one had, that there wasn’t a camera zoomed in on Wulf’s face as it hovered over my laundry-day panty-covered p***y.

Yet, through all that panic, it was so f*****g hot I had no idea what to say or do.

But he stopped, looked up at me. “Taste. Yes?”

He was asking permission. Damn and double damn. Did I want his mouth on me? There?

I nodded and bit my lip. “But… others…” I looked away from him and at the door.

“Locked.”

I had no idea when he’d locked it, but I had to guess when he had me pressed up against it. “Then, yes.”

A thousand times yes. This wasn’t a Jane Austen book, but I could totally relate to Jane Bennet in the heat of the moment.

His smile was feral and a little wild as he reached up my skirt and ripped the thong underwear open with one finger and let them drop to the seat of the huge chair. They were plain black, but it didn’t seem an Atlan beast cared about panties.

Wulf pushed my skirt up to my hips and kissed his way along my thighs. Then his mouth was on me, sucking and tasting. I arched my neck, my back bowed and I grabbed at the wall behind me in a futile attempt to find something to hold on to. There was nothing but him, his head, the dark strands of his hair caught in my fingers as I whimpered and opened my legs farther.

He f****d me with his tongue and I nearly exploded, but it wasn’t enough. Not quite enough. I needed more…

“Ahhh!”

Wulf replaced his tongue with two fingers. Two big fingers worked me open, f*****g me deep as his tongue worked my clit. I never came easily with a guy, making me wonder if I was defective. Now I knew I hadn’t had the right guy, because I didn’t last long, the pleasure so intense. His scent was like a drug, his heat wrapping around me like a safety net, his strength the ultimate temptation for a woman who’d been struggling on her own for too damn long. And that tongue… those fingers. Wicked. Ruthless. Unrelenting.

I wanted to give in. I felt… feminine. Sexy. Desirable. Safe.

He flicked his tongue once. Twice. Sucked my clit into his mouth. f****d me with his fingers.

I exploded, shudders racking my body while pushing me to go higher, working me further as the o****m rode me hard.

“Wulf.” His name left my mouth, and I didn’t know what I wanted to say. Thank you? Stop? More? Mostly I wished this fantasy moment could last forever.

“Mine.”

He pulled back and I sighed in regret at his loss, but then I was being lifted and turned, my back against the door once more, the cold, hard surface a shock to my warm, dazed existence. I heard the sound of a belt buckle, the slide of a zipper.

“Wulf,” I repeated, looking up at the popcorn texture of the ceiling. My blood was humming through my veins, my muscles like pulled taffy.

I felt the prod of him then, the rock-hard tip of an enormous c**k at the entrance of my wet core. My inner walls clenched with anticipation of being filled. His fingers were one thing, but the heat from just the tip of his c**k… I sighed.

“Mate. f**k now.” He held perfectly still, again waiting for my permission to slide into my body and make me come once more. I was close, the first o****m feeling like a warm-up. I wanted more. I’d taken birth control pills since I was thirteen to regulate my period. I wasn’t going to get pregnant. I was going to break every rule I’d ever had for myself when it came to men and dating. Never have s*x on the first date—and this wasn’t even a date. Never go out with someone I didn’t know for at least two months. Never…

Yet here I was, up against a door with an alien’s c**k ready to sink into my p***y. I felt like I’d slipped into an alternate reality. Was this a dream? Was a gorgeous Atlan wanting to f**k me? Sure, this was a quickie. We were in a random room backstage, after all. But he hadn’t pulled off my panties and f****d me. No, he’d used his mouth on me first. Got me off. A mouth that glistened with my wetness even now.

He growled and shifted, the tip of him rubbing against my clit, moving slowly back and forth across my p***y. f**k me, that was hot. How could I say no? My body didn’t want to. It wanted an alien c**k stretching me open and making me come. I owed it to the women of Earth, didn’t I?