Chapter 26 Luna
Luna
Notebook: When in doubt, just fucking ride it.
Istare at Axel, at the axe handle jutting up from the bench between his spread legs, at his hand extended toward me in invitation.
This is insane.
This is the sort of thing that should make me turn around and run back to the house.
But the throbbing between my thighs says otherwise.
The heat in Axel’s eyes says otherwise.
And the lingering shadow of my nightmare, now almost entirely eclipsed by want, definitely says otherwise.
“This is fucked up,” I say, but I’m already stepping forward. “Like, seriously deranged.”
Axel’s grin is pure sin. “Yeah. But you’re still gonna do it.”
Something about Axel strips away my pretense and my careful boundaries.
With him, I’m just… me. Raw and real.
I move between his spread legs, looking down at the axe handle. It’s smooth wood, polished from years of use, about an inch and a half thick—my pulse quickens.
“You really cleaned this thing, right?” I ask, in a last feeble attempt at resistance.
He laughs, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest. “It’s clean, Wildcat. Now stop stalling and get on my lap.”
I place my hand on his shoulder, feeling the corded muscle beneath my palm. His skin burns hot against mine.
Shifter heat.
Wolf heat.
Axel heat.
I remove my damp panties with my other hand and carefully straddle his thighs, my knees on either side of his hips, the axe handle between us, but not touching.
“Pick a word.”
“What?” I’m confused by the sudden shift.
“A safe word, Wildcat. Because I might not be able to tell the difference between your good screams and your bad ones.”
I think for a second, then smirk. “Moist.”
He barks out a laugh. “Moist? Seriously?”
“You said pick a word. Nothing kills the mood faster than “moist.”
“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He grins wickedly, positioning me over the axe handle. “Now hold onto me, Wildcat, because I’m about to ruin you for every other weapon in existence.”
“That’s a weird flex but—”
“Luna,” his voice drops to that dangerous register. “Less talking. More holding on.”
His hands settle on my waist. Patiently, our faces are level now, his breath mingling with mine.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice rough. “Knew it the first time I saw you.”
Before I can respond, his mouth claims mine, hungry and demanding. I moan into his mouth, my hands sliding into his hair, gripping tight.
His hands move under my tank top, calloused palms sliding up my sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts. I arch into his touch, wanting more.
“Take this off,” he growls against my lips, tugging at my top.
I pull back just enough to yank it over my head, tossing it aside.
Axel’s eyes darken as he looks at me. “Fuck,” he breathes, his hands coming up to cup my breasts.
His thumbs brush over my nipples, and I moan in pleasure.
“You like that?” he asks, though it’s not really a question.
“Yes,” I admit, my voice barely audible.
He pinches lightly, rolling the hardened peaks between his fingers. “How about this?”
My hips jerk involuntarily, grinding down on the axe handle. “God—yes.”
His grin is predatory. “Such a good Wildcat.”
My wolf preens at his praise, her approval flooding me with a rush of heat.
Axel leans forward and takes one nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling around, then switches to my other breast, nipping gently before soothing it with his tongue.
“I want to see you ride my axe,” he says against my skin. “I want to see that pretty pussy get all wet for me.”
The crude words send a fresh wave of heat through me.
Axel’s hands slide down to my ass, squeezing appreciatively. “Feel that?” he asks, guiding me forward until the wooden handle presses lightly against my folds.
I nod, unable to form words. The wood is cool and hard, nothing like flesh.
“You’re already so wet,” he observes, one hand sliding between us to stroke me. His fingers part my folds, gathering moisture, then circling my clit. “So fucking wet for me.”
I moan, my hips bucking against his hand. The action brings me into contact with the handle again.
“That’s it,” he encourages, his voice dropping even lower. “Feel how hard it is? Not as hard as my cock right now, but it’ll do the job.” His fingers continue their teasing circles. “I want you to get it nice and slick. I want to see you fuck it while I play with these perfect tits.”
His fingers slide lower, circling my entrance before pushing inside. I moan at the intrusion, my inner walls clenching around him.
“I’ll take care of you.” Then the wolf grin returns. “Let me get you ready.”
He groans, working his finger in and out slowly. “I can’t wait to feel this around my cock someday.” He adds a second finger, stretching me gently. “But tonight, you’ll come on my axe handle while I watch.”
I whimper as his thumb finds my clit again, pressing in small, tight circles that make my thighs shake.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Just like that. Get nice and ready.”
When he finally withdraws his fingers, I almost protest. But then he’s guiding my hips forward, positioning me over the handle.
“Slow,” he instructs. “Take your time.”
I lower myself gradually, feeling the smooth wood press against my entrance. It’s unyielding, unforgiving in a way flesh never could be.
“A masterpiece,” he breathes as I sink, taking the first inch inside me. “A fucking beautiful masterpiece.”
The stretch is unfamiliar but not painful, thanks to how aroused I am. I pause, adjusting to the sensation, then lower myself a bit more.
“That’s it,” Axel praises, his hands moving back to my breasts. “Take what you need.”
I begin to move, a slow up and down motion that sends tingling pleasure through my body.
The handle isn’t shaped like a cock, doesn’t curve or pulse or respond, but its unforgiving hardness creates a precise pressure.
With Axel’s hands on me, his mouth now returning to my breasts, the contrast in sensations makes me fully alert, my body alive and responsive.
“Look at you,” he growls between nips and licks. “Fucking my axe like you were made for it. So wet I can hear it.”
He’s right—there’s a faint, slick sound as I move, evidence of just how aroused I am. In any other circumstance, I’d be mortified. But right now, with the stars above us and Axel’s eyes burning into me, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.
My pace increases as my body adjusts, finding a rhythm that hits just right. Axel’s hands are everywhere—my breasts, my hips, sliding around to squeeze my ass, then back to pinch my nipples.
“That’s right,” he encourages, his voice strained with need. “Ride it. Take what you want. Use it to make that sweet pussy come.”
My head falls back as I chase the building pleasure. The wooden handle slides in and out of me, filling me in a way that’s both strange and perfect. I take it in as far as I can, bouncing on Axel’s lap.
Axel leans forward, his mouth fastening on my neck, sucking hard enough to mark. The slight pain mingles with pleasure, pushing me higher.
“You gonna come for me?” he asks, his voice rasping against my skin. “Gonna cream all over my axe? Make it smell like your pussy every time I use it?”
“Yes,” I gasp, my hips moving faster, more erratic. “Yes, yes, yes.”
“Come for me, Wildcat,” he says.
“Stop asking me to come and fucking make me,” I reply out of breath.
He chuckles, “Fuck, I think I might be in love.”
His hand slides between us again, finding my clit with unerring accuracy. He circles it in time with my movements.
The orgasm crashes over me in waves, pleasure spiraling out from my core to the tips of my fingers and toes. I cry out, my inner walls clenching around the wood, my juices dripping down the handle.
“That’s it, Wildcat. Just like that. So fucking perfect.”
When I finally come back to myself, I’m slumped against his chest, breathing hard, body trembling with aftershocks. Axel’s hands stroke my back in long, soothing motions.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard.
I nod against his shoulder. Carefully, I lift myself off the handle, wincing slightly at the sensitivity. Axel helps me; his movements are gentle and considerate.
Once I’m settled in his lap, his arms wrap around me, holding me close. I can feel his arousal pressing against me, but he makes no move to seek his own release.
This was about me, I realize.
About chasing away my nightmares.
And it worked. The horrific dream that drove me outside is completely gone, replaced by the memory of pleasure.
“Thank you,” I whisper, kissing his throat.
A silent chuckle escapes him, brushing against my mouth. “Trust me, Wildcat. The pleasure was all mine.”
I pull back to look at him, expecting to see his usual smirk. Instead, his expression is open, almost tender, despite the hunger still evident in his eyes.
“Think I’ve ruined you for other weapons?” he jokes, brushing hair from my face.
“I think you’ve ruined me, period,” I reply, just the raw, unexpected truth.
“You know what they say: the couple that fucks wood together, stays good together.”
“That’s not a saying.”
“Well, it fucking should be.” He pulls me closer. “And just so we’re clear about what just happened here—I’ve killed with that hatchet. Now it’s been inside you. That makes us soulmates.”
“That’s… deeply disturbing,” I manage.
“And yet you’re not running.” His thumb traces my jaw. “Face it, Wildcat. We’re perfect for each other.”
I should argue. I should be horrified. Instead, I hear myself saying, “God help me.”
His laugh is dark and delighted. “Soulmates. You’re stuck with me now. Every time I swing that axe, I’ll remember how you looked riding it. Every. Fucking. Time.”
“You’re insane.”
“And you love it,” he shoots back.
I think he’s right. Because lying here with him, this crazy, unhinged, axe-loving male, for the first time in years, I don’t feel broken.
I just feel his.
He kisses me again, and I know I’m falling. Falling hard and fast with no safety net, I can’t bring myself to care. The nightmares, the fear, none of it matters when I’m with him. I pull him closer, ready to lose myself in him all over again.
As Axel helps me gather my clothes and we head inside the shed for some sleep, I realize something important: For the first time in years, I’m not afraid of what might come next.
Not with him beside me.