Chapter 13 Ben
Ben
The next day, Felix is quiet when he walks in.
No humming. No joking. No “hey, boss.”
Just… quiet.
That alone is enough to make my stomach drop.
Felix is not built for silence. He fills it, leaks out of it like sunlight through blinds. When he goes still, something’s wrong.
I’m on the couch, reading, or pretending to, anyway. I set the book down as he shrugs off his jacket and doesn’t meet my eyes.
“What happened?”
He doesn’t answer right away. He just crosses the room, kneels in front of me, and rests his head on my knee.
My hands find his shoulders before I even think about it.
His voice is low. Careful. “My alpha pulled me in tonight.”
I nod. I figured this was coming. That investigator didn’t walk into our café for a cappuccino.
“He said… I need to end it.”
He doesn’t look up.
“He thinks it’s too risky. That I’m a liability to the pack. That if I stay, I’ll put everyone in danger.” A breath. “That you’ll get hurt.”
He says that last part like it’s what’s really killing him.
I thread my fingers into his hair, hold him there, grounded. “What did you say?”
He finally looks up.
“That I’m not leaving.”
There’s a pause. A beat. His gaze meets mine.
Then… “Unless you tell me to.”
It’s my turn to go still.
I could do it. Right now. Tell him to go. Keep him safe. Give the pack what they want. Make it simple.
I don’t.
I can’t.
My mouth opens before I decide what to say. “I want you to stay.”
His exhale shakes a little.
“You sure?”
“Yes.” I manage a crooked half-smile. “I want you to stay, Felix.”
He climbs into my lap, knees straddling mine, hands cupping my face. His thumbs swipe at my cheekbones like he’s memorizing the shape of me. I let him. I’m too far gone to stop now.
“You’re mine,” he says quietly.
It doesn’t feel like a threat.
It feels like a vow.
We kiss like the world’s about to end.
Not fast. Not frantic.
Hungry.
Like we’re starving for the parts of each other we haven’t had yet. The pieces we were afraid to ask for.
His fingers tug at my shirt. I pull his hoodie over his head. Our clothes start coming off in pieces. His skin is warm, already buzzing under my hands. My lips find his throat, his shoulder, the hollow of his chest. He moans like he’s losing himself, and maybe he is.
So am I.
I pick him up easily and carry him to the bed. When I set him down, he rolls onto his stomach, letting me kiss the curve of his neck, the knobs of his spine. He melts into the sheets beneath me, body pliant and gorgeous, but when his hips arch—offering—I pause, breath catching at the sight.
Tempting. Fuck, he’s tempting.
But instead of taking, I roll him over, hungry for his mouth. Our lips crash, messy and uncoordinated, but it doesn’t matter. We're burning through each other. And then, he growls low and sharp, grabs me by the neck, and bites, teeth grazing just under my jaw.
I groan, cock twitching.
I slick myself with lube from the nightstand, coating my fingers, then press two between his thighs. He whines, hole clenching around the stretch, cock leaking against his stomach.
When I press my cock into him next, slow and steady, Felix gasps a wrecked, guttural sound that punches right through me. His whole body shudders under mine, fingers twisting in the sheets, muscles taut and trembling.
His cock is rock-hard, flushed dark, smearing precome across his stomach with every thrust of my hips.
I set a rhythm, deep and hard, bracing one hand beside his head as the other grips his thigh. He moans for me, shameless and sweet, every sound dragging me closer to the edge.
And then, mid-thrust, skin slapping, bodies slick and crashing, I say it without thinking.
“I want you to mark me.”
His breath hitches.
“Ben—” he whines.
“Do it,” I urge him, cradling him close as I thrust into him.
Then—he bites. Really bites.
Right where my neck meets my shoulder. Not hard enough to draw blood, but deep enough to make me feel it. Deep enough to brand.
Something detonates inside me like a switch being flipped, a fire catching too fast to contain. My body locks up, breath punched from my lungs, and I moan, loud, broken, grinding into him like I’ll never stop.
The bond snaps into place.
My hands clutch his hips, knuckles white. I can’t stop shaking. Can’t stop feeling. He’s beneath me, around me, in me, and now he’s marked me.
Claimed me.
And I’ve never wanted anything more.
Heat blooms. Pleasure crashes. My hands grip his hips as I fuck him harder, rawer.
It’s more than sex.
It’s yes.
It’s I’m not afraid anymore.
It’s us.
I come with a groan, buried deep inside him, the release punching through me like a dam breaking.
He shudders and squirts across my chest, untouched, his own orgasm ripping out of him like a wave.
We finish together, breathless, shaking, locked in the heat and the bond and everything that’s been building between us since that first touch.