Arielle and the Three Wolves (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Dani April Page A

and he had no trouble sliding himself down her canal. He felt so large. It was a tight fit.
    She began to moan. The man took his time. He started shallow. His thrusts were slow and deliberate. He pulled her hair back from her neck and teased her skin with whispered kisses. Then he was inside her deeper. She felt him fill her body with his cock.
    His palm squeezed her breasts hard. She wanted to hold out longer, didn’t want to let the man get to her so completely, but it was a lost battle. Her body betrayed her. He drove deeper inside of her than anyone had ever gone before. She didn’t know if she could take it. Every time he moved inside, her body was forced to respond. She felt so small in his arms next to him under the covers of her bed, like she was his plaything. He proved to her that she was his to do with as he pleased.
    In response to his thrusts, she gripped his arm hard. She didn’t think she could hurt him. It felt like his magnificent nude body was made of granite. But he had gotten to her. He had found her spot. He forced her to feel every inch of his penetration.
    She buried her head in her pillow and begged for mercy. “Please,” she cried to him, her voice hysterical. “Please!” A strong orgasm washed over her.
    This was all like a dream, and she fell asleep in his arms.

Chapter Five
     
    He regarded her over the breakfast table. She was still afraid of him. That was to be expected, but she held up well under the revelations of the morning.
    “What’s your name?” she asked him.
    “Jason,” he told her.
    “Jason.” She seemed to test the name on her tongue.
    She had prepared him a half dozen eggs and a dozen slices of bacon. She had only taken a small portion for herself. It hurt like hell when he had to move around or put weight on his leg, but he limped out to the kitchen because the breakfast she made smelled so good. The sight of her in the T-shirt was also worth the trip down the hall as well. He had to fold the bedspread around his body and was naked underneath. He still had no clothes to wear in this house. The bedspread was large, but it barely covered his body as he sat at the head of the kitchen table.
    He devoured everything she served him. Occasionally he would catch her in a glance across the table at him. She got up, went to the refrigerator, and came back with a carton of orange juice. She poured him a full glass. He wanted to reach out and grab her naked legs beneath the shirt. Her scent under the fabric drew him to her. She still wasn’t wearing underwear. With an effort, he restrained himself because he knew it would only frighten her more.
    She sat back down on her side of the table and pulled her legs demurely together. She seemed shy around him, like she had a million questions but was afraid to ask any of them. He noticed she barely touched her breakfast. She was too busy with wary glances across the table at him. He just ate his breakfast and waited for her to talk.
    “How did you get to be like this, Jason?” she asked him at last.
    “I was born a shifter.”
    She cleared her throat and looked down at the plastic table cover. “So, Jason, you’ve always been able to turn into a wolf?”
    “We get the ability when we hit puberty.”
    “We?” she asked, startled. “You mean there are more like you?”
    “Of course. Everyone in my family and all of my friends are shifters.”
    “Where do you come from?”
    “Not too far from Wolf Creek.” He looked up from his food. When he met her gaze, she lowered her eyes. He smiled at her submission and thought to himself she was perfect. “Why do you think the town got its name?”
    “I never thought about it before.”
    “It’s not a coincidence. Wolf Creek, Wyoming is home to one of the biggest shifter populations in the entire country.”
    “How many are there like you around here?”
    “I don’t know. We don’t take a census. My guess would be a few thousand.”
    Again he looked across the table at her and