Bought for Christmas(4)

By: Doris O Connor


With those ominous words he stalked off. The quiet thud of the front door sounded too loud in the room, and Emilia squared her shoulders and faced her father.

“What does he mean by that? What deal?”

The lights of the Christmas tree danced across her father’s tired features, adding another layer of weird to this whole scenario. Papa at least looked slightly chagrined, but that just made Emilia’s apprehension grow.

“The bastard has cleaned your brother out. With Leo’s shares he’s now the majority shareholder and we’re finished unless—”

“Unless what?” she asked.

“Unless you agree to his terms. You see he’s bought either you or the company.”





Chapter Two



Hunter took a deep, cleansing breath of the chilly air, and braced his hands on the roof of his car. That had been too damn close. Even now his bear prowled under his skin, ready to tear the pup to shreds who dared to insult his mate.

He was so damn fucked. This, right here, was the reason he kept his distance from Emilia. His bear was a volatile fucker at the best of times, but this close to the object of all of his desires there was no controlling him. His beast wanted to sink his incisors into her soft flesh, and mark her as his. He wanted to see her ample curves bound in ropes, her body covered in the marks of his possession, while he sank his aching cock deep into her sweet pussy and pumped her full of his seed, leaving her to scream his name, as she gushed all over his prick.

Groaning he shook his head and adjusted his dick. Fat chance of any of that happening now, after the stunt he’d pulled in there. Emilia was loyal to a fault, and despite the appalling way her father and brother treated her, she loved them, and always stood by them. Over the years, he’d watched her grow from the shy little girl, who used to spy on him through the banisters, to a gangly, equally shy teenager, and then a beautiful young woman who seemed unaware of her appeal. Emilia had curves to die for, not that the men in her father’s circle seemed to appreciate them. Hunter had scared many a potential suitor away from his kitten with a few quietly spoken words, until Emilia herself had grown wise to the gold diggers and told them all to take a hike.

Hunter smiled to himself. She might be all soft womanly curves, but his girl had teeth and hidden claws, just like a kitten, and he had no doubt he would get the sharp end of her tongue when she found out what he had done.

The sound of the door opening made him turn around slowly, just in time to see her bunch her hand into a fist, before it connected squarely with the side of his face, and he saw stars briefly.

For such a little thing she sure packed a punch.

“You damn … oh, ow. Shit, damn it. What’s your fucking jaw made out of, concrete?”

Tears sprang into Emilia’s expressive green eyes, and she waved her abused hand up and down, her lips pulled together in a thin line.

“Here, kitten, let me see what you’ve done to yourself.”

Hunter reached out to her, but she snatched her hand away and glared up at him.

“Don’t you fucking touch me.”

Hunter’s bear roared at the rejection, and Emilia went even paler, as though it had just dawned on her that they were very much on their own out here. No help would be forthcoming from her menfolk, and he had no doubt that his bear showed in his eyes.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself he ordered his beast to stand down, and once he could be reasonably sure that he wouldn’t shift the minute he touched her, he held out his hand.

“Let me check you haven’t broken anything. Your hand is already swelling. You’ll need to put ice on it at the very least.”

Emilia continued to glare up at him, but she did give him her hand after a moment’s hesitation. A jolt of recognition went up his arm at the touch of her flesh on his, and Emilia gasped, as though she, too, felt the connection between them. Then again it could have been a gasp of pain, and Hunter examined her fingers as gently as he could.

Her unmistakable whimper of pain made his guts twist in on themselves, and acting on instinct and the desperate need to taste her, he bent his head, and gently kissed each swollen knuckle in turn.

Emilia’s pulse sped up under his lips, and she tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t, couldn’t, let her. For once his beast was content, drinking in her scent, her taste, the very perfume of her skin.

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