Summer Pen

I've been hunted by nightmares, fear and regrets my whole life, and I'm not willing to put others in danger of what might come for me.
But what do you know, destiny has a way of playing games.

There's a saying among shifters— Never reject an Alpah—. Well that's what I've done, and I'm learning the hard way.

Jerome Knight is the Alpha of the woodlands pack, and my mate. One who I'm not at all ready to accept.
He doesn't take no for an answer. After all, I never thought he ever got denied anything he wanted and I certainly won't be the first person he accepts a NO from.

I either choose yes or yes. Or he'll force me by hook or crook. Even if it means bullying me into accepting him as my mate.

Bullied To Submission

I moved fast, grabbing the back of his neck, hurling him face down on


"What? Are you afraid of getting involved with an enemy." He taunted me, wiggling his ass.


“Shut up,” I ordered him, spreading his legs, feeling the tension in his


shoulders, the fatigue from where he had been clenched earlier, frozen in


His hands were fisted in the blankets, still warm from where he had been laying before he shifted. I dribbled lube over the cleft of his ass, more than I needed


but wanting to make a mess. Gently, even though he was verging on


madness, I slid my fingers inside of him, scissoring, stroking, slow but


steady, relentless as I curled them over his gland, feeling him jolt under me,


twist and squirm with shallow breaths, adding a third finger, pushing deep, circling wide,


adding my thumb from my left hand. He was whining, the words incoherent


but pleading, writhing under me, and the mantra of my title became


demanding. I didn’t slide my fingers free. I yanked back, and he gasped in


outrage before I grabbed his tight, firm ass, spread the cheeks open, and


thrust hard and deep in one long, smooth glide.


He howled his rage and drowning, devouring pleasure.


His muscles were like a fist closing around me, holding tight, rippling


and hot. My whole body tingled as I eased back and thrust in again, deeper.


shifting my angle, finding the spot that made him scream. I smiled as I pumped in and out of my mate's ass, pounding him


down into my bed, bucking as hard as I could so he’d know it was only him I wanted to fuck.


I pushed my fingers through his hair, made a fist, and jerked up,


arching his back, lifting his ass, putting him into a position of submission,


taking away all his power. He was there only for me to use.


He was sobbing, I could hear it, and I wasn’t sure what was most


“Shall I come on you or in you,” I asked, my mouth next to his ear as


I reached under him and squeezed his rock-hard shaft.


Between the panting and gasping and crying, I understood that I


needed to fill him up; he wanted it to leak out of him for hours.


I was too close, my control was gone, so I grabbed his shaft, stroked


and pulled, and when I felt his muscles clamp down, I plunged into him,


My orgasm was endless, and I held him tight until it was done, until


the flood receded and I could realize where I was again and care. We were


covered in lube and cum and sweat, and I wiped my hands on the comforter


“Jesus, I found my mate.” I told him, chuckling, kissing his ear, his cheek,


licking the salt from his skin, dabbing at the blood on his lip. “But we're gonna talk in the morning, when all the haze clears.”


“Hold on, lemme move so you can—”


“No,” he stopped me, reaching back, fingers grazing over my ass.


“Stay there. I can still feel your dick pulsing inside. It hurts.”


“I’m stretched and full and fuckin’ sore, but ohmygod how bad did I


need that? How bad did I want it? Jesus.”


My mate wanted me in him even though it was hurting him, how badly I wanted to mark him then, make him mine, but of course, my beta training prevailed, as my senses came back slowly.


Vincent