Chosen by the Wolf (BBW Steamy Werewolf Shifter FMMMMM Menage Romance Novella) (3 page)

Peter wasn’t supposed to be in my life – my family was going to visit him without me, and even if he was going to come this way in the next few years, I had already been planning to move out at the end of the semester. But fate had decided to intervene, and we had been put on a collision course together.

These were the thoughts that filled my mind as I finally sent him my fateful text message, just a few simple days later.

> It’s Monica. I say yes. Ready when you are.

It was only a few minutes before his response came through.

> Greetings. Expect Mr. Blackwood’s drive at 9 AM sharp.

Of course, the number he had given me wasn’t actually his.
Did he even own a smartphone?
Now that I thought about it, I had never seen him with one, and it made me wonder exactly who this man was.

I wasn’t quite sure where his home was, and it occurred to me that it could be states away. He had seemed so pressed to have me visit that I was sure his driver would leave within a few hours, and it was still mid-afternoon. With that in mind, I figured that a flight would have been quicker and convenient, but that he hadn’t even brought up the possibility in light of the recent tragedy.

So, I spent the rest of the day shoving the thoughts of guardian wolves out of my head while taking my time to pack my things. I had no idea how long I was to be there, but I thought that about a week’s worth of clothing would be sufficient for the trip. In the meantime, I had spruced the house up about as much as possible.

In the previous days, I had spent most of the cash left in the safety deposit box to finalize ownership of the house outright. The family lawyer owned a copy of the will and had already gone over the details with me, and they amounted to about what I expected – clearing out the deposit box, paying off the house, transferring my parents’ vehicles into my name. He was handling the details and had me sign some of the documentation, already filled out for me. I reviewed everything with him and allowed him to make the arrangements for me, after he gave me a short, sympathetic hug at the end.

“I’m so sorry, Monica. I wish we didn’t have to meet under these circumstances. If there’s anything I can do...”

“You’ve been great, Steve. Thanks for taking care of this for me.”

It was good to take the time to handle my personal affairs. After I was done packing, I hopped onto Facebook and answered the barrage of messages left on my account, then picked a cute outfit to wear when I greeted him at the manor.

My brain was swimming with emotions. Anticipation, of being near him again. Confusion, at the feelings he had inspired within me. Depression, at the loss of my family. Hopelessness, at the journey ahead. And gratitude, that my father had taken such painstaking steps to ensure my continued lifestyle if they passed away.

The last night in my home, after all the arrangements were made and I had taken an hour-long hot bath, I sat in his chair in my robe, barely keeping the tears away. I stroked the arms of his chair, for the first time in days a sad, lost little girl again. I dimmed the lights and curled up with a blanket, wishing with all my heart that this was all a bad dream, that I would wake up the following morning in my bed and have them all back again.

And after the longest sob I’ve ever had in my life, I finally drifted to sleep.

~

I woke up late, but still had just enough time to compose myself and dress for the occasion. The driver patiently waited in the living room for ten minutes as I finished up in the bathroom, finally descending the stairs and locking the door behind us.

He wasn’t much of a talker, and was content with driving back the entire way in silence. However, he had been kind enough to offer his quick sympathies, and to inform me of the trip’s duration and of the fresh champagne in the backseat.

The drive was approximately five hours. We stopped for breakfast about an hour in. To my slight embarrassment, I had forgotten to eat anything on my way out. Through either foresight or compassion for my preoccupied mind, he remarked that he was feeling peckish as well, and we chose a much less expensive roadside breakfast buffet.

I kept myself content with a Kindle I had packed for the road, and tried to pass the time with a book I had been reading before the accident. My mind was looped onto wondering about the rest of the weekend, and I couldn’t help but find myself having to reread pages or flip back half a chapter to regain my footing in the text.

Eventually, I gave up, sipping the champagne and watching the trees on the interstate flash past. We were heading vaguely northward, and I watched how the landscape gradually changed as the hours passed.

We made another stop for lunch at a hole-in-the-wall Greek and Lebanese restaurant owned by a small family. I hadn’t had much Greek, and he took the time to suggest a gyros dish I would have never considered but found quite delicious. Meanwhile, he enjoyed a vegetarian tzatziki wrap, slightly more talkative than before.

The rest of the drive was uneventful. I am one of those people who grow drowsy from too much time on the road, and found myself nodding off against the window not an hour later, drifting towards a deep, restful slumber.

~

I awoke with a start. The light had changed, and we were no longer moving. Peeling myself away from the window, I gazed around in a daze until the door popped open and a black leather-gloved hand reached in to clasp my shoulder.

“We’re here,” the driver told me. “I’ll gather your things. Follow me to the door.”

He popped the trunk and withdrew my suitcase as I stepped out of the sedan and stretched, concealing a yawn as gracefully as possible. When I turned to face the manor, I practically collapsed in shock on the spot.

I know what the term “manor” implies, but I wasn’t prepared for the sheer magnitude of what I was going to face. The immaculate home was four stories tall and wider than half my street. The steps leading to the door alone were wider than my house, and as I turned my attention back the way we came, gazing across the sloped, luscious lawn to the trees. My dumbfounded stare followed paved road as it drifted downward and out of sight.

Back to the house, I couldn’t count the tall, paned windows that overlooked the open entrance to the property. I wondered how far I would see from the top windows...over the trees? Would I see the main road from here? It was hard to tell. But my eye was drawn to the stunning stonework that divided the rows of windows into columns, and gave a stiff level of exquisite presentation to the manor as a whole.

“Come along, miss,” the driver finally spoke in my ear, and he followed him up the stairs and to the double-doors of the manor. A servant greeted us at the door and took the suitcase, and I followed the pair into the foyer and the main entrance room.

“Mr. Blackwood, Monica has arrived,” the driver announced as we came across my host himself, standing with his back to us and quietly speaking to a distinguished younger gentleman.

“Ah, Monica!” He motioned to me. “It’s a pleasure to finally have you here.”

“Will there be anything else, sir?” the driver asked, betraying the slightest hint of weariness.

“No, Harold, that will do wonderfully,” Peter answered, a slight, sly smile across his lips. “I appreciate your time and patience for making such a long trip twice in such a short time frame. Please, feel free to take the rest of today and tomorrow off.”

“You’re too kind, sir,” the driver bowed briefly, taking his leave to the left.

“Well, I imagine I’ve answered all of your questions,” Peter turned to his companion again, his friendly demeanor sliding away for cool apathy. “I’m afraid that I must settle my guest in. You understand, of course.”

“Of course, Peter,” the man answered, tipping his hat to me as he passed us on the way out. “I’ll be back in touch on Monday.”

“Splendid.” His tone didn’t convey the purpose behind the word. I almost asked about the encounter, but chose to remain silent.

“Well!” He lit up, turning to me. “As I was saying, I’m pleased you came to join me. I imagine you are quite exhausted from the drive.”

“Somewhat, yes,” I answered, realizing that I was still rather drained. “Perhaps I can sleep some of this off.”

“Well, you certainly have the time. Follow me,” he replied, extending his elbow. I graciously took it as the servant plucked up my suitcase and followed us to the equally luxurious set of stairs before us, up to the second floor.

We turned right and walked a small ways before ascending another large set of stairs, with another on the opposite side of the previous staircase. On the third floor, we rounded a corner and passed in front of the windows on the way to my room. To my delight, I saw that I could indeed gaze over the treetops, even if only barely from this floor. Down the slope, the paved road curved, until finally reaching the main road and a town that sprawled out around it as far as I could see.

After about two more minutes of walking, we finally approached the room that was to be mine. The servant set down my luggage and fumbled with a key ring for a moment, finally unlocking the door for us.

I stepped inside, and although I didn’t know it, I passed into what was to be the start of my new life.

~

The room was dark, luxurious, with charred slate paint across the walls and a large four-poster bed with red curtains and bedding. A bookcase lined with literature in matching wood stood to the side, along with a likewise matching desk with vanity mirror. Meanwhile, a thick, exquisite round rug filled the floor.

“This is...incredible,” I stammered, taking everything in. “I’ve never even stepped foot into a room like this.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Peter responded coolly, and then turned to his servant. “That will be all.” He bowed lightly before leaving us in peace.

“But seriously,” I started, walking to the bed and running my hands across the thick, plush fabric, “this is way more than I would have expected. This is one of your guest rooms?”

“Of a sort,” he replied, and I turned to face him. He was slowly stepping over to me now; his penetrating eyes locked onto mine once more. “You are free to stay here as long as you wish, of course...” He was standing right on top of me now, so close that I could probably fit my arms around him. The slight smell of cologne wandered into my nostrils, and I licked my lips nervously.

“It’s...it’s so much. How could I possibly repay you for this?” I asked, my mind already made up.

He had been in my thoughts all week, and I couldn’t help but have already entertained some thoughts. After all, he was highly attractive, commanded presence, and completely overshadowed anyone I had ever been with.

As his lips crashed into mine, and my arms slid around his shoulders, I allowed those thoughts to slip away, and it was only us, his strong embrace holding me close, his tongue expertly sliding along mine. An immediate spark seemed to fly down my spine, and I felt a bursting electricity between us – a magnetism that instantly attracted me.

Peter pulled back, looking into my eyes, and his fingers slipped to my blouse. He began stripping my clothes as I dove my hands for his suit, eager to pull him out of his as well, but after I removed his blazer he halted me.

“You first…I must behold my delicate little flower,” he smiled lovingly.

Consumed with a lust I’d never known, I helped him rip my clothes off. Soon, I was down to my panties, and his eager lips clamped onto my breast, his tongue flicking the nipple. I gasped and held him close as he worked the hardening nub with his tongue, squeezing the other breast as well. He moved to taste the other nipple for several moments before pulling back up, his lips crushing mine as I held him close.

Peter shove me down to the bed, and I crawled backwards to settle into the bedding as he slithered up to me, his lips reunited with mine as my hands caressed his shoulders and felt his strong, defined muscles beneath the button-up.

Peter’s lips left mine and worked their way down my chest and towards my panties and the freshly bare pussy beneath, as naked as the day he met me. I found myself pleased that I had taken the time to anticipate this, as I had shaven on a whim – it had occurred to me that I might need to do it during the weekend, but it was only luck that I changed my mind just in time. Instead of diving straight towards the prize, he began to shower my lower abdomen in kisses, his lips moving to my thighs then, pushing them over his shoulders as he fervently kissed into their insides, looming closer and closer to my passionate need.