Chapter 8
No warning, no preparation beyond what his mouth had already done. Just the thick head of Gabriel's cock breaching him, slick only with his own saliva and precome, stretching Asher wider than he'd been stretched in months.
Asher's whole body went rigid, a choked sound escaping him.
Too much, too fast, the burn sharp enough to make his eyes water.
But his body remembered this, remembered how to open, how to take it.
His muscles gave way incrementally, accepting the intrusion even as his mind reeled with the reality of it.
This is actually happening, his brain supplied helplessly as Gabriel kept pushing forward, claiming inch by inevitable inch. Gabriel Stone is inside me.
The thought should have been triumph—the fulfillment of years of desperate wanting.
Instead, it was tinged with the bitter knowledge that Gabriel didn't really want him.
This was just the moon, the mating run, whatever werewolf biology demanded.
Asher was just the convenient body that happened to be nearby.
The position made everything worse. Or better.
He couldn't tell anymore. Face pressed into pine needles that scratched his cheek with every movement, ass raised in presentation, being mounted like prey.
He couldn't see Gabriel's face, couldn't gauge if there was any recognition there or if it was all wolf now, all moon-drunk instinct using the nearest available body.
Part of him desperately wanted to turn around, to see Gabriel's eyes, to know if any part of the man he'd fantasized about was still present. But another part—the part that had survived by never looking too closely at uncomfortable truths—was grateful for the anonymity of it.
If he couldn't see Gabriel's face, he could pretend this meant something. Could imagine that the harsh breathing above him was desire, not just biological imperative.
Gabriel bottomed out with a growl that vibrated through both their bodies, so deep inside Asher felt like he might split apart.
Fuck . The fullness was overwhelming, Gabriel's cock touching places that hadn't been touched in months.
Gabriel didn't pause, didn't let him adjust. Just pulled out and slammed back in, setting a punishing rhythm from the start.
Each thrust drove Asher further into the ground.
Pine needles everywhere—in his hair, scratching his chest, probably embedded in places he'd be finding them for days.
Dirt caked under his fingernails as he scrambled for purchase, trying to brace himself against the onslaught.
There was a rock digging into his left knee that was definitely going to leave a mark, but moving would require coordination he didn't have while Gabriel was fucking him into next week.
It should have been degrading. Should have felt like those days in the city when he'd been desperate enough to let men treat him roughly because at least rough meant they wanted something, even if that something wasn't really him.
Men who'd bent him over in alley ways, in cheap motel rooms, in the backseats of expensive cars.
Men who'd used him and left without learning his name.
But this was different. This was Gabriel's hands gripping his hips hard enough to leave perfect fingerprint bruises.
Gabriel's breath hot against the back of his neck, occasionally accompanied by the scrape of those inhuman teeth.
Gabriel inside him, claiming him with a desperation that felt personal even if it wasn't.
Stop romanticizing it, Asher told himself harshly as Gabriel adjusted his angle?—
Oh. Oh fuck.
The new position dragged across his prostate with devastating accuracy. Stars exploded behind his eyelids, pleasure so sharp it almost hurt.
He doesn't know it's you. Probably doesn't even care. You could be anyone.
The thought stung more than the pine needles, more than the stretch of taking Gabriel's considerable size with minimal preparation.
Because Asher had spent three years being anyone, being no one, being whatever men needed him to be for an hour or a night.
He'd thought—hoped—that with Gabriel it might be different.
That he might actually be seen, be wanted for himself.
But here he was again, just a convenient hole.
The only difference was that this time, he wasn't even getting paid for it.
Jesus Christ, that's depressing even for you.
Gabriel's pace was relentless, inhuman. No careful build-up, no checking if Asher was okay, no murmured words of fake encouragement or praise.
Just pure animal need, the wolf taking its mate with single-minded determination.
Each thrust pushed deeper, harder, like Gabriel was trying to crawl inside him, to claim him so thoroughly there'd be no question of ownership.
And God help him, Asher loved it.
Loved being wanted this badly, even if it wasn't really him Gabriel wanted. Even if tomorrow would bring nothing but regret and disgust. His body opened eagerly, greedily, taking everything Gabriel gave him and wordlessly begging for more.
He was still soft—too soon after his last orgasm, body wrung out and oversensitive—but the pleasure was there anyway.
Building in waves that had nothing to do with his cock and everything to do with being filled, claimed, possessed by the one person he'd never thought he could have.
Each drag across his prostate sent sparks through his system.
Pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
Or maybe pain so perfect it became pleasure.
He couldn't tell anymore.
This is what you wanted, he reminded himself as Gabriel's rhythm grew more savage, more desperate. This is what you've been dreaming about since you figured out why Gabriel's visits made you so nervous.
Though if Asher was honest—and when was he ever honest with himself about what he really wanted—this was better than his fantasies. This was Gabriel unleashed, uncontrolled, taking what he wanted without hesitation or doubt. The intensity of his need was intoxicating.
Tomorrow, Asher would look like he'd been mauled by an animal?—
Which wasn't far from the truth.
Would Gabriel even remember this? Or would he wake up tomorrow with only fragments, with just enough awareness to know something had happened but not the details? Would Asher have to look him in the eye and pretend nothing had changed, carrying the secret weight of this night alone?
Fuck. That might actually be worse than Gabriel remembering.
Gabriel's rhythm was starting to falter, his breathing harsh and ragged against the back of Asher's neck.
Close, then. Thank God, because Asher didn't know how much more he could take.
Every nerve was firing, every muscle trembling with the effort of staying upright, of taking what Gabriel was giving him.
His arms shook where they braced against the ground, threatening to give out entirely.
"Mine," Gabriel kept growling, the word punctuating each thrust. Not sentences anymore, just that single possessive claim over and over, like he was trying to fuck the truth of it into Asher's body.
Not yours, Asher thought with bitter clarity even as his body surrendered completely, opening for Gabriel like it had been made for this.
But he wanted to be.
Then Gabriel was coming with a sound that was more howl than human, pulsing deep inside Asher, filling him with wet heat.
The sensation of it—being marked from the inside, claimed in the most primitive way possible—made Asher's spent cock twitch weakly, trying to respond despite having nothing left to give.
Gabriel's weight collapsed onto his back, driving him flat against the ground, both of them panting in the aftermath. The night air was cool against overheated skin, sweat cooling rapidly, bringing reality creeping back at the edges.
What they'd done. What Asher had let happen. What couldn't be taken back.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Asher could feel Gabriel's heart hammering against his back, could feel him still inside him, softening slowly. Could feel the moment stretching between them, fragile as spider silk.
Then Gabriel was pulling out, the loss of it making Asher whimper before he could stop himself.
The sound seemed to break something, to shatter whatever spell the moon had woven.
Asher collapsed onto his side in the pine needles, every muscle trembling, feeling Gabriel's release starting to leak from him, undeniable evidence of what had just happened.
When he looked up, Gabriel was kneeling above him, and for the first time all night, his eyes were clear. Human, not wolf.
The expression on Gabriel's face was devastating.
Horror. Pure, absolute horror as he took in the scene—Asher sprawled naked in the dirt, covered in bites and bruises, scratches and dirt, Gabriel's come leaking from him.
Evidence everywhere of what had happened, what Gabriel had done.
His gaze tracked over each mark, each bruise, and with every second that passed, the horror in his eyes deepened.
"No," Gabriel whispered, stumbling backward like Asher was something dangerous. "No, no, no. What did I—Asher, I?—"
Shit. “Gabriel, wait—" Asher tried, reaching out despite the protest of abused muscles. He needed to explain, needed to tell Gabriel that he'd wanted it, that it was okay, that he'd chosen this.
But Gabriel was already moving, already fleeing. He shifted—man to massive grey wolf between one heartbeat and the next—and bolted into the forest, leaving Asher naked and alone on the forest floor, still feeling the ghost of Gabriel's hands on his skin.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Asher stayed there for a long moment, staring at the spot where Gabriel had vanished into the darkness. His body ached in ways that should have been familiar but felt entirely new. He'd been fucked before, many times, but never like this. Never by someone who mattered.
Never with the kind of horror Gabriel had just shown.
"Fuck," he whispered to the uncaring moon.
He'd gotten everything he'd ever wanted—and he'd destroyed Gabriel in the process.