Chapter 9 #2
I knew what I looked like. Bruised. Scarred. Tattooed. My chest was a map of violence. The tribal ink swirled over my pecs and down my arms. The new bruises from the game were already blooming purple on my ribs.
"You're beautiful," she whispered.
"I’m a mess," I corrected, unbuttoning my jeans.
"A beautiful mess."
I shoved my jeans and boxers down, kicking them off.
I stood before her, completely naked.
I saw her eyes widen. She looked at my chest, my tattoos, and then lower.
I was fully hard. And I was… big. Shifter big.
"Oh," she breathed. A flush spread across her chest.
"Too much?" I asked, a flicker of insecurity hitting me. I didn't want to hurt her.
"No," she said quickly, her eyes snapping back to mine. "Not too much. Just… enough."
I climbed onto the bed, crawling over her on my hands and knees. The mattress dipped under my weight. I caged her in, looming over her.
"Zoe," I said, my voice serious now. "If we do this… if I claim you… there is no going back. I will knot. I will mark you. Your scent will change forever. Your dad will know the second he sees you."
"Let him know," she said, reaching up to trace the scar on my neck. "Let him see that I belong to you."
"You're sure?"
"I’ve never been more sure of anything."
She reached for the button of her jeans.
"Let me," I said.
I moved down the bed. I unbuttoned her jeans. I unzipped them. The sound was loud in the quiet room.
I hooked my fingers into the denim and pulled. She lifted her hips. I slid the jeans and her panties off in one smooth motion, tossing them onto the floor.
She lay there, naked and vulnerable.
She tried to cover herself with her hands—an instinctual move.
"No," I growled, grabbing her wrists and pinning them gently above her head. "Don't hide. I want to see everything."
I looked at her. Really looked at her. The curve of her hips. The pale skin of her inner thighs. The golden curls at her center.
"Mine," I whispered.
I lowered my head.
I kissed her stomach. Her hip bone. Her inner thigh.
"Rory," she whimpered, her hips bucking slightly.
"Open for me, sweetheart."
She opened her legs.
I moved between them.
I positioned myself at her entrance. I was leaking pre-cum, my tip wet and eager. I rubbed against her slickness, coating myself in her scent.
"You're so wet," I groaned. "You're ready for me."
"I’ve been ready since the day we met," she admitted breathlessly.
I pressed the tip inside. Just an inch.
She gasped. Her body was tight. Virgin tight.
I froze.
"Am I hurting you?"
"It’s… it’s pressure," she gasped. "It’s big."
"I can stop," I lied. "I can—"
"Don't you dare stop," she said, digging her heels into the mattress. "Fill me, Rory. Please."
I groaned, a sound of pure agony and ecstasy.
I pushed forward. Slowly. Inch by agonizing inch. I watched her face. I watched for pain. I saw discomfort, yes, but mostly I saw wonder.
I broke through the barrier. She let out a sharp cry. I stopped, kissing her, swallowing the sound.
"I’ve got you," I murmured against her lips. "I’ve got you. Just breathe."
We lay still for a moment, letting her body adjust to the invasion. I was buried deep inside her. It felt like coming home. It felt like the missing piece of my soul had finally clicked into place.
"Okay?" I asked.
She nodded, tears in her eyes—not from pain, but from emotion. "Okay. Move."
I began to move.
Slowly at first. Long, deep strokes that stretched her and filled her.
Then faster. The rhythm took over. The primal instinct.
Thrust. Claim. Thrust. Claim.
The bed creaked. Our skin slapped together. The room filled with the sounds of our breathing, our moans, our names being whispered like prayers.
"Rory… Rory!"
She was close. I could feel her tightening around me, milking me.
"Let go," I growled, driving into her harder. "Come for me, Zoe. Let me feel you break."
She screamed. Her back arched off the bed. Her inner muscles clamped down on me, pulsating, dragging me over the edge.
I couldn't hold back.
My vision went white. The Wolf roared.
I slammed into her one last time, burying myself to the hilt.
And then it happened.
The Knot.
The base of my shaft swelled rapidly, expanding inside her, locking her to me.
Zoe gasped, her eyes flying open. "Rory? What—"
"Shh," I panted, collapsing onto my elbows, keeping my weight off her but staying connected. "It’s the knot. I told you. It locks us together. It ensures… breeding."
"Oh." She blinked. She didn't look scared. She looked… amazed. "It feels… full. Complete."
"We're stuck," I whispered, kissing her forehead. "For about twenty minutes. You can't leave. I can't pull out."
"I don't want to leave," she said, wrapping her arms around my sweaty back. "I never want to leave."
I released inside her. Wave after wave of seed, filling her womb, coating her with my DNA. It was biological. It was magical. It was a curse and a blessing.
I buried my face in her neck, biting down gently on the spot where her pulse beat strong and steady.
I didn't break the skin. Not yet.
But as I lay there, knotted inside the Dean’s daughter, feeling her heartbeat synchronize with mine, I knew the truth.
The movers could come tomorrow. Her dad could scream. The world could burn.
It didn't matter.
She was mated. She was mine.
And I would tear the world apart before I let them take her.