Chapter 5 #2
“Drink your juice,” he said softly, wiping the knife on a paper towel.
He slid the sandwich onto my plate, then went to one of the cabinets and pulled out a box of brownies.
As I slurped down the orange juice, he unwrapped two brownies and set them on my plate.
They were the junk food kind—dense rectangles with little multi-colored candies embedded in the frosting you could peel off and eat separately.
My mother had always refused to buy them, claiming they would ruin my teeth or something.
Maybe she thought sugar was a portal for other debauchery like R-rated movies or video games.
But I’d always wanted to grab the damn things from other kids’ lunches and peel off that frosting.
For some reason, a lump formed in my throat. Before it could form into something else, I grabbed one of the brownies and stuffed it into my mouth.
“These are terrible for you,” I mumbled around the burst of chocolate and candy.
Jesse shrugged. “They taste good. And you’re a werewolf.
You don’t have to worry about high cholesterol.
” He went to the refrigerator and withdrew a bag of apples.
When he returned to the island, he washed two pieces of fruit in the prep sink and began peeling them with deft movements.
The knife flashed, and water droplets clung to the apples as the peel dangled in a long spiral before dropping into the sink.
He sectioned the apples into slices and deposited them on my plate.
“There,” he said, the little smile reappearing. “Something healthy.”
I stared at the fan of apple slices as the wriggling sensation stirred anew in my chest. He hadn’t told me to eat, but he obviously wanted me to.
Apparently, that was enough to trigger whatever Jedi mind trick he was using on me.
Could he make me do anything he wanted? Panic formed at the edges of my mind as the pressure swelled, urging me to obey.
To submit.
Jesse set down the knife, then wiped his hands on a towel and braced his palms on the counter. “You should—”
“I’m full,” I said, pushing away the plate.
Triumph and something hot and shaky surged inside me.
My heart thumped faster as I kept my gaze pinned to the granite.
But I could still see Jesse as he studied me, and my whole body tensed as I waited for what came next.
And maybe I was as “perverse” and “disrespectful” as the youth pastor at my parents’ church claimed because part of me was impatient for the fallout.
Which was stupid. I shouldn’t have wanted that hot, shaky feeling.
It wasn’t even particularly good. But like the chocolate brownie, I wanted to seize it and peel it back.
It was wrong, and that just made me want it more.
Jesse’s voice rumbled through the air between us.
“I’ve told you twice now that I’m in charge.
Consider this your final warning. You’re unaccustomed to living in a shifter’s body.
That’s not your fault. If you’d been guided properly, you would understand why it’s critically important to consume the proper amount of calories.
I won’t hold you responsible for what happened with that cyclist tonight, but I won’t tolerate a repeat.
” His voice dipped lower, and it circled my chest like a rope and cinched tight.
A second rope wrapped around my dick as he said, “Now, clean your plate like a good boy, and we won’t have any problems.”
The hot, frazzled feeling flared—and then spun into something darker.
The knife was right there on the counter.
Like everything else in the kitchen, it looked expensive.
Sharp. As I stared at it, anger ignited in my gut.
The ropes squeezed. I couldn’t let this guy control me.
I didn’t even know him. Where the fuck did he get off calling me good boy?
Telling me he wouldn’t tolerate a repeat?
Despite the food I’d eaten, hunger burned in my gut. With a growl, I lunged for the knife.
A dizzying second later, I was bent over the island with my cheek flat against the granite and my wrists pinned in the small of my back. Jesse’s scent—spicy aftershave and evergreen—filled my lungs. His hot breath coasted over my neck.
“That was stupid,” he said in my ear as my head spun, my brain attempting to catch up with my body’s new position. “I’d hoped you were smarter than that, Caleb, but I should have known you’re like every other college boy in existence. Just a walking bundle of poor decision-making skills.”
“Fuck you,” I spit, tugging at my wrists.
Or trying to. His grip was tighter than the cuffs.
Humiliation washed through me as I realized he held me with one hand.
It took about a hundredth of a second for the humiliation to splash over my lust like gasoline tossed into a fire.
And fuck this guy for making me want him so much.
With another vicious curse, I squirmed against the counter and got nowhere.
“Language,” he said, not sounding the least bit inconvenienced by my struggles. “If you keep acting like a brat, I’m going to treat you like one.” He reached his free hand up, grasped an apple slice, and held it to my lips. “Open.”
My eyes widened. He was going to force-feed me the apples like some kind of animal?
I clamped my mouth shut. At the same moment, my dick became very aware of his hips lodged against my ass.
His erection nestled between my cheeks, the thick length as big as everything else about him.
That hot, shaky feeling in my gut moved south, tightening my balls and making me want to rock my ass up and down the long, round shaft prodding my cleft.
“That’s right,” he murmured, as if he knew my thoughts. “Open up for this”—he brushed the apple over my lips—“and you can have this”—he thrust his hips into me, nudging my boxer briefs deeper into my crack and making my ass clamp hard. I groaned as embarrassment twined around my anger and desire.
It took effort, but I let the anger win as I turned my head and pressed my opposite cheek against the counter. “I don’t want your dick, you fucking pervert.”
His huff of laughter vibrated from my shoulders to my spine. “Take it up with your wolf. I didn’t ask for this.”
Confusion hit me as I registered the irritation in his voice. I lifted my head and strained my neck, trying to get a look at his face. “What are you talking about?”
His weight on my back eased slightly. He speared long fingers through my hair and tugged, wordlessly steering my head to its original position.
The apple slice rested on the counter, but Jesse didn’t pick it up.
Instead, he slid his hand down my ribs, his touch on my bare skin trailing fire.
When he cupped my straining dick with a possessive hand, I moaned.
And not just a normal moan. The sound punched out of me all breathy and over-the-top like some dude in a porno.
But I didn’t have time to be embarrassed about it because Jesse bent and whispered in my ear.
“Your wolf chose mine, Caleb. Like it or not, you want me as a mate. That makes things between us both easier and more complicated. Allow me to show you.”
In another lightning-fast movement, he unfastened my pants and freed my erection. The second his fingers gripped me, my anger disappeared like a candle being snuffed out.
I melted like butter, sagging under him as my spine turned fluid and all the blood in my body rushed to my cock.
Desire lit up every erogenous zone I possessed, until I imagined myself glowing like a Christmas tree.
Suddenly, nothing in the whole damn world mattered more than Jesse van der Meer’s strong, hot fist stroking my dick.
“Oh, fuck,” I said, my hips moving without my permission. “Oh my…holy shit.”
“I told you to watch your mouth,” he said, brushing a kiss over my nape. His grip on my wrists disappeared, and he tugged down my jeans, taking my boxer briefs with them. Cool air hit my ass, followed by a sharp crack and a burst of pain.
I gasped and fumbled at the counter, my head spinning as the pain sizzled into more pleasure.
He’d spanked me. He’d fucking spanked me, but I couldn’t summon the will to care.
Not when his hand was working magic on my dick and pleasure was spreading through me like honey left in the sun.
My jeans puddled around my ankles, and my briefs stretched across my thighs, keeping me trapped.
My gasps filled my ears as my chest heaved and searing-hot lust bubbled in my veins.
Jesse worked me with an experienced hand, tugging and squeezing exactly when I needed him to.
Backing off a little and then jacking me harder.
Keeping me off balance as I sprawled on his counter and humped his fist, my swollen balls swaying.
“See what I mean?” he murmured. “Your bratty mouth may want to talk back, but your wolf wants a firm hand. My hand. And a whole lot more.” He thrust against my bare ass, working his dick a little deeper between my cheeks and making it explicitly clear what he meant by “more.” The slightly scratchy fabric of his pants scraped my cleft, teasing my hole.
“Shit,” I gasped, then remembered too late that I wasn’t supposed to cuss. “Wait!” I cried, tensing. “I take it back.”