Chapter 17 #3
“Fucking flawless,” he says, his large hands cupping my breasts with reverent possession. His thumbs circle over my nipples, pulling a gasp from my lips that melts into a moan when he replaces one thumb with his mouth.
The wet stroke of his tongue sends electricity coursing through my body.
I arch into him, my fingers tangling in his dark hair as he laves and sucks at the sensitive peak.
His other hand continues its exploration, tracing patterns down my ribs, across my stomach, to the waistband of the borrowed leggings.
“These need to go,” he says against my skin, hooking his fingers under the elastic.
I lift my hips, helping him slide the leggings down my legs until I’m left in nothing but a pair of simple cotton panties. His attention devours me like I’m his last meal as he runs his hands up my bare thighs. I shiver under his touch, my body already responding to him in ways I can’t control.
“I've dreamt of having you like this. Spread out beneath me. Mine for the taking.”
“Then take me,” I whisper, reaching for him. “I don't want to wait anymore.”
In one swift movement, he hooks his fingers into my panties and tears them clean off me. The sound of ripping fabric fills the air as the shredded cotton lands somewhere across the room.
“Sorry,” he growls, not looking sorry at all. “I'll buy you more.”
I laugh breathlessly, my heart hammering against my ribs. “I think I can forgive you.”
His large hands gently push my thighs further apart, and I feel completely exposed. Instead of feeling vulnerable, I feel powerful.
“You're still wearing too much,” I say, reaching for the button of his jeans.
He lets me work the button free, but when I try to hook my fingers in the waistband of his jeans, he captures my wrists, pinning them gently above my head.
“Not yet.” His free hand trails down my body with deliberate slowness. “I want to taste you first.”
My breath catches as his meaning becomes clear.
“Trust me,” he says, pressing a kiss to the inside of my wrist where my pulse thrums wildly. “Let me worship you the way you deserve.”
His mouth begins a torturous journey down my body.
Kissing and nipping at my throat, lavishing attention on my breasts until I'm writhing beneath him, then moving lower across my ribs, my stomach.
When he settles between my thighs, his broad shoulders force my legs wider, and I think I might die from anticipation.
The first touch of his tongue against my most sensitive flesh makes me cry out, my back arching off the mattress. He groans against me, the vibration sending shockwaves through my system.
“So fucking sweet,” he growls between long, languid strokes that have me gasping his name. “I could spend hours between your thighs.”
I lose myself in the sensation—his mouth working me with single-minded devotion, his hands gripping my hips to hold me steady as I writhe beneath him.
The tension coiling in my core builds to an unbearable peak as his tongue works against me with devastating precision.
My fingers tangle in his hair, holding him to me as waves of pleasure crash through my system.
“Damien, I can't—” My words dissolve into a broken moan as he increases the pressure, his mouth relentless in its pursuit of my release.
“Give it to me,” he rasps against my thigh, his breath hot, voice low and rough like gravel dragged over velvet. “Every last fucking drop.”
The demand rips through me like a live wire, and I unravel, body seizing, breath punched from my lungs as pleasure crashes into me hard and fast. My vision whites out, hips jerking against his mouth as my orgasm tears through me, fierce and unrelenting.
I’m trembling, overstimulated, and wrung out, every nerve stripped raw.
Through the haze, I feel intense satisfaction rolling off him. He licks through the aftershocks with cruelty, drawing it out until I’m a twitching mess beneath him.
When he finally pulls back, his mouth is slick, his chin wet, and his eyes burn like he just won a war. He prowls up my body. His mouth crashes against mine, tongue slick with my taste, and it makes my stomach clench all over again.
“I’m not done with you,” I breathe against his lips, reaching for his jeans. My fingers find the button, and this time, he doesn’t stop me. Doesn’t speak. Just holds still like he wants to see how far I’ll go, how desperate I’ll get.
I shove the denim down his hips. He lifts, granting silent permission. The thin black briefs do nothing to disguise the sheer size of him—thick, flushed, already straining.
My mouth goes dry and he doesn’t move. Just lets me take him in.
“Second thoughts?” he asks, the sound roughened by restraint.
This powerful man, this killer who terrifies entire packs, is worried about my reaction to him.
“Never,” I breathe, cupping his face with both hands. “I want you, Damien. All of you.”
Something breaks in his expression, raw emotion flooding his features before he crushes his mouth to mine. The kiss is desperate as if he's trying to pour everything he can't say into the connection between our lips.
I feel him position himself at my entrance, the thick head of him pressing against my slick heat. My breath catches as he begins to push forward slowly, giving my body time to adjust to his size.
“Breathe, kitten,” he rasps, the tension rolling off him as if he’s a breath away from losing control.
I manage a nod, focusing on the brutal, exquisite stretch as he sinks into me, inch by slow inch.
It burns—in the best possible way—like my body was forged for this, for him.
My wolf arches inside me, thrilled, greedy for every shard of pleasure and possession.
This isn’t just sex. It’s a binding of flesh and soul.
When he’s fully sheathed, we freeze. The air between us crackles, thick and wild, as if the bond itself is a living thing clawing under my skin. I can feel his restraint, the need straining at its leash, begging to be unleashed.
“Move,” I breathe, tilting my hips in invitation. The drag of him inside me rips a desperate sound from my throat.
He withdraws, slow and measured, only to thrust back with a force that steals my breath. Every stroke is precise, each one feeding my hunger but never quite satisfying it.
I want the beast.
“More,” I bite out, nails raking down his back. “I’m not glass. Stop holding back.”
The tension snaps. A guttural sound rumbles through his chest as his grip clamps down on my hips, holding me in place. Then he moves. Hard. Relentless. Each thrust drives me into the mattress like he’s branding his presence me, like his body is the only language he needs to speak.
“You want more?” he growls, breath hot against my ear. “Then take it. Take every inch until you’re too sore to stand and too full to think.”
His pace turns punishing, brutal in its intensity.
“I’m going to fuck you so deep you’ll still feel me tomorrow. So every step you take reminds you who owns this perfect little pussy.”
The headboard slams against the wall, the sound a savage rhythm. My body sings for him, made to be used like this. Claimed. Worshipped. Broken apart and remade in his hands.
“I’ll put my cum so deeply inside you, kitten,” he grits, “my scent will soak into your bones.”
“Oh gods,” I moan.
“When you cry out kitten, the only thing I want you to praise is me. You’re mine,” he growls against my throat, his breath hot as sin, his teeth grazing over the tender skin. “Say it.”
“Yours,” I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to break skin as the pressure builds inside me like a live wire ready to snap. “And you're mine.”
That does it. His rhythm falters, the next thrust landing deep and brutal.
“Fuck,” he grits out.
The rough honesty in his voice sparks through me, setting every nerve alight. My legs lock around his hips, drawing him in, chasing the closeness like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded. I want him completely. His strength, his warmth, the ache that burns in all the best ways.
The second orgasm coils tight and sharp, riding the edge of pain and pleasure. Every thrust punches a ragged sound from my throat.
“Damien—” I pant, barely holding on.
“I feel it,” he snarls, fingers bruising my hips as he drives into me harder. “I feel your cunt choking on my cock, begging to be filled. So greedy.”
He leans in close, teeth dragging across my jaw.
“You want to be bred, don’t you? Stuffed so full you’ll drip with me for days. You want the whole fucking pack to smell me on you.”
I cry out, my body shattering violently around him. Fire explodes outward, and the connection—it doesn’t just flare, it detonates.
He roars, teeth sinking into the mark at my neck, tearing it open with a brutal bite that sends a surge of blinding white pain-pleasure racing down my spine.
His hips drive forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt as release crashes through him in hot, unrelenting waves.
Each pulse sears like fire, branding me from the inside out.
His body collapses over mine, still trembling, chest heaving against my breasts, but his hold never loosens. One hand tangled in my hair. The other still gripping my hip like I might vanish if he lets go.
“Mine,” he breathes again, lower this time. Fierce. Final.
And this time, I don’t just say it back.
I drag my nails down his spine and bite.
Hard.
He freezes—just for a second. A low, stunned sound rips from his throat, half growl, half moan, and then he’s moving again, like I flipped some hidden switch. His hips roll, grinding into me, and I feel him still thick and pulsing inside, not softening at all.
My body is wrecked and trembling, but the hunger hasn’t faded. It’s worse now—sharpened by the taste of him, the burn of his teeth still fresh in my skin, the way his cum still leaks slowly out of me.
“You’re not done. I can feel it.”