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

“What are you going to do with me?” Grace asked fearfully, pulling away and trying to sit up. She managed it, but she slumped against the man's shoulder a moment later. Her teeth chattered in what Christian knew had to be shock and probably the initial stages of a comedown of whatever they had drugged her with.

He slid a protective arm around her shoulders, tugging her close in an attempt to both warm her and assuage his panther side that she was going to be all right.

“I'm going to take you home and put you in a bed and cover you with a bunch of blankets to keep you warm,” he rumbled. “And when you wake up in the morning, I'm going to bring you breakfast in bed. And then
maybe
, depending on how you're feeling, we'll talk about what to do next. Whatever happens, I'm going to make sure you're safe.”

Grace swallowed hard; afraid she was being deceived again. Liam had promised to keep her safe too… “I don't want to...have sex,” she whispered, even though she knew in her heart that it didn't matter: this man had just paid thousands of dollars for her body; he could do with it as he wished.

Christian tightened the grip he had on her as they pulled up in front of his mansion. “Then we won't,” he promised, even though inside, he was wondering if he'd be able to keep his hands off her, with her cloying scent in his nostrils and her luscious curves there in his arms.

Grace pulled back, though, looking up at him with an expression so desperately hopeful that it would've broken his heart to break that promise to her.
Let her come to you
, he reminded himself.

“You promise we won't...” She trailed off, eyes dropping. “I mean; I know I have no right to ask that. Sorry.” She rubbed at her sore wrist.

Christian lightly lifted her chin with his index finger, looking deep into those sea-grey eyes. “I won't do anything you don't want me to do—within reason,” he said. “I want to keep you safe.” Pearson opened the door, and Christian set about getting the two of them out, pulling the woman back into his arms and carrying her bridal-style up to the front door.

“I don't want to own you,” Christian informed her, “but you'll stay here for a week or more—however long it takes until I'm satisfied that you've recovered from this and until Liam and the others are behind bars, where they can never touch you again.”

Grace struggled against him. He might not plan to touch her tonight, but how could she trust that he'd keep his hands off her indefinitely? Especially when she was essentially his prisoner. “You can't keep me here, please,” she begged. “I just want to go home.” She started crying softly. “Please, I just want to go home.”

Christian sighed softly, setting her carefully down in one of the guest rooms and tucking the covers around her, heedless of the way she was trying to escape. “We'll talk in the morning,” he promised her. “For now, you need to rest.”

Grace wanted to protest further, but she found her eyes closing against her will. The drugs still had a slight hold on her, and her emotions had worn her out further. She felt herself slipping away to sleep, surprised at how absolutely sure she was that Christian wouldn't touch her while she was asleep.

She couldn't shake the strange feeling that even though the man had bought her, she was...safe there? Before she could examine the feeling further, she drifted off to sleep.

Christian watched his sleeping mate for a moment, then lightly kissed her forehead and left the room before he did something he'd regret. He needed to figure out a plan of action.

Chapter Two

Grace's sleep, for all that she was exhausted, was far from restful, and she awoke in the morning feeling like she could easily sleep away the rest of the day and the following night. But she had to get out of there—the sooner, the better!

She struggled to sit up, wincing in pain as her bandaged wrists ached (she didn't remember them being bandaged when she'd gone to sleep…). She had just got her feet on the tiled floor when there was a soft knock at the door. The door swung open a moment later, and Christian peeked his head around it, smiling when he saw Grace sitting up.

He entered the room, carefully balancing a tray in front of himself. “Good morning,” he said warmly. “I'm glad to see you're awake. How are you feeling?”

Grace swallowed and shook her head, not up to talking just yet.

Christian's cheerful expression faltered a bit as he set the tray on the bedside table. He sat carefully beside her and, just as carefully, pulled her into his arms, making sure to hold her loosely enough that she wouldn't feel trapped but tightly enough that she'd feel comforted. “I know,” he murmured. “You're safe now, though.”

Grace, to her surprise, felt herself relaxing a bit against him, closing her eyes and pressing her cheek to the soft fabric of his shirt. She felt another round of tears crowding her eyes but fought them back.

After a long minute, Christian pulled back, gently swiping a tear off Grace's pale cheek. He stared at her seriously for a moment, and then shook his head. “Come on, sit back,” he said, easily maneuvering her so she was propped against the headboard instead of sat at the edge of the bed.

He settled next to her and pulled the tray across their laps, lifting the lid to reveal pancakes, sausage, toast, eggs, bacon, fruit, coffee, tea, water, juice—a veritable feast. “I wasn't sure what you liked,” he admitted, voice coming out a bit nervous.

Grace blinked at the food and suddenly realized how hungry she was—how long had it been since she'd last eaten? A day? Two? As if on cue, her stomach rumbled.

Christian smiled and handed her a fork, settling more comfortably against her side. He felt contented like this and wished they could stay that way forever, but he knew she'd need to eat and then they'd need to talk. He shook his head, trying to put that out of his mind.

“So what do you normally eat for breakfast?” he asked her, hoping he could get her to open up and relax a little. And besides, if she were to be his mate, he'd need to figure out what she liked and disliked and things like that. He looked forward to discovering each new thing about her that he could. 

“Depends on the morning,” Grace said around a bite of pancakes. She swallowed, looking sheepish. She probably ought to have better manners in front of this rich, chic man. “Sorry.”

Christian snorted; she was adorable. He felt a surge of lust go through him and tried to tamp down on it. It was all well and good for him to realize she was his mate, but it wasn't time yet to act on it. “It's fine,” he said. “Most people act far too formally around me because I'm one of the richest people in town—but I don't really want anything to do with that kind of stuff normally. I'd rather just relax.”

Grace dropped her fork, appetite gone already: his words about how rich he was reminded her of the fact that she now belonged to him. She closed her eyes, pressing her fingertips against her eyelids and taking in a shaky breath, feeling herself begin to tremble.

“Please, I'm sure there are...a million other women out there that you could buy. Ones who are prettier than me. Please, can't you just–just let me go home?”

Christian hummed softly, lightly laying a hand on her arm. “Grace,” he said quietly, waiting until she'd opened her tearful eyes and was looking at him. “Grace, I'm
not
going to hurt you,” he repeated. “And I don't want to own you or anyone else.”

He sighed, shaking his head. He'd hoped this would be able to wait until after she'd gotten some food in her, but of course she must be terrified after everything she'd been through.

“I'm not like those other men,” he insisted. “I was just there for a business deal that Liam Henderson was helping to arrange. I don't normally go to society events like that. But I heard some men whispering about what was going on in the other room and when I went in there and saw you...well, I could tell you didn't want to be there. And I knew I couldn't stay quiet and let you be sold to someone else.”

“Because you wanted me for yourself,” Grace said bitterly.

“
No
,” Christian said vehemently, frustrated at his inability to get through to her. “I bought you so that I could get you out of that situation. It was the quickest thing I could think to do—by the time the authorities arrived, who knew what they could have done to you.”

Grace trembled, realizing the truth in
that
, at least. “But you still brought me back here to–to…”

“To give you a safe place to sleep and heal,” Christian growled. “That's it. I don't intend to hurt you or murder you or whatever else is going through your head right now. I just wanted to keep you safe.”

“Oh,” Grace said quietly.

“After I brought you home, I put you to bed, asked my maid to come bandage your wrists, and called the police to tell them what I knew about the situation last night. I've checked in on your a few times this morning, but I haven't touched you at all. I don't intend to hurt you—you're safe here. As soon as you're able to walk out of here, you can be my guest.”

It was all true except for that last part: Christian had no intention of just letting her leave like that. Not that he would keep her there against her will, but… Well, he just had to make her realize on her own that she was his intended mate, as he'd known from the moment he'd first laid eyes on her. Once she realized she was his mate, she wouldn't want to leave.

He hoped so, anyway. There was still that lingering doubt in the back of his mind that if she knew what he really was, she'd be even more frightened than she already was.

If she was being truthful with herself, Grace knew that he was right and that she was too weak to leave now anyway. She didn't particularly like being stuck here, but… Well, she didn't really know where she would go to be safe now anyway. If she went back to her own apartment or to her work, Liam would be able to find her, and surely he'd come after her again if he knew she was free? And Christian seemed so sincere…

“I'm scared,” she admitted in a whisper. A few tears slipped free and rolled down her cheeks.

Christian suppressed a growl and carefully set the tray aside so he could gather her into his arms, lightly running a reassuring hand down her back. “I know,” he murmured. “I understand. But you don't need to be scared here—I'll make sure that those bastards never come near you again. And I won't do anything you don't want me to do.”

Grace drew in a shuddery breath, slowly putting her arms around Christian as well. “Can you...can you stay with me?” she asked hopefully, burying her face against his side. “Please, I don't want to be alone right now, but I'm so tired.”

“Shh,” Christian soothed. “Sleep. I'll stay right here.” He was surprised at her level of trust already, but he assumed she must recognize their match somewhere in the depths of her mind. That made things all the easier for him, then.

He didn't move until she was asleep, then he pulled back slightly and tucked her back under the covers. He remained on top of them, however, fighting to keep the promise he'd made to her: he wasn't going to touch her while she was helpless like this, despite what his mating instincts were saying.

He couldn't help thinking of all the things he'd like to do to her, though, watching how peaceful but vulnerable she looked there, curled towards him in the bed. He imagined what her face would look like as he stripped her slowly, kissing down the length of her body.

He'd make sure she knew how beautiful she was, make sure she knew that he wasn't just doing this because he owned her through some sick twist of fate.

He'd pause at her breasts, kissing them and sucking at them until the nipples pebbled, all the while running his hands slowly and torturously up and down her sides, with just enough pressure that instead of being tickled, she grew steadily more turned on, until she was practically writhing beneath him, desperate for him to fill her.

Then he'd pull away slightly so he could watch her face as he slid his fingers slowly inside her tight pussy, massaging her walls so that she relaxed and allowed him to press another finger in just as slowly.

He'd smiled as her hips jerked, trying to get more of him inside her, trying to urge him on faster. But he'd keep going slowly, listening to the quiet noises she'd make: bitten-off moans, like she was afraid to have anyone overhear them.

Christian suddenly became aware of the fact that his hand had strayed to his throbbing dick and that he was massaging himself gently through the fabric of his pants. He quickly yanked his hand away as though he'd been burnt, looking guiltily down at his sleeping companion.

He could only imagine the reaction she'd have if she woke up and found him pleasuring himself beside her, given that not five minutes ago he'd been promising not to touch her if she didn't want that.

He willed himself to think of the most unattractive things he could think of—but nothing seemed to stick in his brain like the vision of her writhing beneath him. After a few minutes of warring with himself, he slunk off to the bathroom to take care of himself. Then he'd be able to return before she awoke, without having done anything worse than dream about her.

Chapter Three

The next time Grace woke, she felt much better rested. Christian was still there next to her, sat on top of the covers with his tablet in his lap and a pen in his teeth. He'd put on a pair of thick-rimmed glasses that made him somehow look even more sexy—because no matter how afraid Grace was of what he would do to her, she couldn't deny that he was unbelievably attractive, the kind of man that could make a woman swoon in a black-and-white-film kind of way.

She stretched, relishing in the tension that released from her shoulders. Christian smiled down at her, setting his tablet aside and removing the pen from his mouth with a slight blush. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said. “Or evening, as the case may be.”

Grace pushed herself up against the pillows, not surprised that she had slept so long. She could feel a lingering jitteriness from her nerves before, but mostly all she felt was hungry. She'd deal with everything else once she'd eaten.