Chapter 10 #2
“Lube?” The question falls free from my lips. It seems like the only important question at the moment.
Fuck worrying about how he’s going to fit or what being knotted is going to feel like. I was made for him, right? And him for me? That means that this—us—we have to work. Have to fit.
Varek stills beneath me for half a breath, then his gaze softens in a way I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. “I will take care of you,” he says.
There’s no hesitation, simply that same grounded certainty he brings to everything.
Tension in my chest loosens at that. “Yeah?” I murmur, breath still uneven, pulse still hammering.
“Yes.”
The word settles deep.
His hand slides down my side again, slower this time, deliberate. Not just touching—assessing. Like he’s learning me properly now that I’ve let him.
The heat between us shifts again. I feel it more clearly now. It threads through my body, pooling low, responding to him in ways that make my thoughts feel a little slower, a little less important.
My body already knows. Already trusts.
“Here.”
I pause and realise he wants me to sit upright. Swallowing hard, I do just that, peering down and taking my fill of his strong body and the richness of his purple skin. There are different shades obvious, so unlike my skin that’s a deep, warm brown.
I follow the movement of his hand as it moves to his cock. This time my swallow is audible when he grips himself. The head pulses at contact, the small slit opening and releasing silver fluid. It looks thick and silky.
Unable to resist, I touch the drip of silver that trickles down the smooth skin of his deeper purple cock. His gaze locks onto me, brighter now, more focused.
I glance up, meeting it. “Can I taste it?” I ask. The question slips out before I can stop it. Before I can decide whether I should ask.
But now it’s out there. And the moment it sinks in, the bond flares.
Heat spikes, sudden and immediate, desire threading through it in a way that makes my pulse kick harder, my body lean forward without me meaning to.
Varek’s control slips another fraction. “Yes.” The word is low, rough, almost feral.
It’s the most unrestrained I’ve heard him sound.
I don’t look away. Don’t hesitate. I bring my finger up to my lips, aware of him watching every movement and how the air between us feels thicker now, heavier.
Then I taste it.
It’s not what I expect.
It’s not metallic or bitter. It’s warmer than that. Smoother. Deeper and richer—faintly sweet, but grounded with a flavour I can’t quite name. Something that tastes like… him.
The flavour hits my tongue and then drops straight through me, the bond surging in response, heat blooming again—stronger, fuller, as if that single act just pulled me deeper into it.
“Fuck,” I breathe. My eyes flick back up to his.
And the look on his face…. Yeah. That’s not restraint anymore. That’s hunger. The kind that’s been waiting a long, long time.
My pulse stutters as he coats his fingers and reaches for me. Scooting forward, I bend, my groan flying free when his hand finally touches my arse.
“Do it,” I order, needing his thick fingers stretching me wide. I want the sting. I want to commit everything about this moment to memory.
More than that, I want to be open and prepped and riding his giant cock, fucking him until I pass out while his knot keeps us connected.
Varek drags his fingers over my arse cheeks—slower this time, like he’s taking stock instead of just touching. I drop my head back when he dips one finger between my cheeks and taps lightly at my hole, the sound I make tearing out of me before I can swallow it down.
He answers with a low, rolling growl, and then he’s there—pressing, circling, testing. Not rushed. Never rushed. A measured slide of his finger in, out, in again, each movement deliberate enough to make my breath hitch harder every time.
It wrecks me fast. Too fast. My breathing goes jagged, my thoughts scattering as heat coils low and vicious. I rise higher, arse lifted, and whatever restraint I usually cling to snaps clean through.
“Varek—fuck—mate.” The word bursts free unbidden. “Please. I need you to fuck me.”
The words sound wrecked, desperate—too honest—but I don’t take them back.
My hole opens, the sudden brush of air making me twitch. The wet slick of more lube being pushed inside me joins my ragged breathing, but I barely register it before two of his thick, coated fingers press inside.
“Pax.”
My name threads through me, low and steady, not loud, but heavy enough to settle in my bones.
“You were made for me.”
“That’s what I’m begin—” I choke on the rest when he adds a third finger, deeper, angling just right. Stars burst behind my eyes. My breath stutters, tears pricking hot and fast as I grab at his chest. “I—fuck—I need you.”
“You will have all of me.”
Not a promise. A decision.
And then—finally—
The weight of his thick cock presses against me, and everything in me reacts. My breaths come short and uneven, my jaw clenching hard as sensation builds too quickly, is too much.
When my cock throbs, I grab it on instinct, squeezing once, then squeezing lower. Not happening. Not yet.
I push back instead, forcing myself down onto him. The stretch hits with a wince, bright enough to make my vision flicker, but I don’t stop. I can’t. “Fuck—more,” I grind out, voice rough. “I can take you, Varek.”
He stills, and I grit my teeth, frustration snapping through the haze. “Don’t—don’t stop now.”
“Patience, mate.”
He holds me steady, firm but controlled, like he’s containing something bigger than just the moment.
A slow withdrawal, then a deeper push.
I swear, my whole body jerks as he stretches me further, my legs trembling hard enough that I’d fold if he wasn’t bracing me.
Inch by inch, he works me open, each movement careful, and it hits somewhere I don’t want it to. Not just the stretch. The restraint. The fact he could take what he wants and doesn’t.
“How far?” I mutter, my voice unsteady and thin despite my best effort.
“Almost to my knot, my mate.”
Mate.
That shouldn’t resonate. It does.
I brace for the pain—really brace this time. Jaw taut, shoulders locked, waiting for the burn to spike into something brutal. Waiting for the moment it tips too far.
It… doesn’t.
I blink, thrown off enough that I almost miss the next push. It’s still intense—still stretching, still a lot—but not the tearing edge I’m expecting. Just pressure. Heat. Fullness that borders on overwhelming but never quite crosses into pain.
What the hell?
I nod anyway, stubborn about it. “Keep going.”
He slides his hand around my cock, stroking slow, steady—like he knows exactly what he’s doing, balancing something I can’t even track.
I wait for it to hurt.
It doesn’t, but it should.
I’ve felt worse from less. I know what my body does, what it can take, where the line is. And this should be over it. By a mile.
Instead, it builds. Slow. Controlled. Almost… right.
My brain scrambles for a reason and comes up with nothing useful.
Does he—
I huff out a shaky breath, half dazed, half incredulous.
Does he have a magic cock?
Because that’s the only explanation I’ve got.
And then, he presses fully inside me with a low, rough sound, his body going tight. “Perfect, Pax. I’m inside you. Fully.”
I suck in a breath, shaky and a little wrecked, trying to catch up with what just happened—what didn’t happen.
No tearing pain. No biting edge. Just him.
The heat of his body against mine. The solid, impossible weight of him anchoring me in place.
I reach back, needing to feel it, fingers brushing where we’re joined.
We both groan.
“You’re actually all in there,” I say, half with disbelief, half with something dangerously close to pride. I skim my fingers lower, and I shudder.
“You were made for me. I would never hurt you.”
A grin splits my face—feral, a little wrecked. “Yeah. Guess you were.”
The pulse of him inside me drags a groan from my throat, and I drop forward, my hands pressing against his chest. “Varek—mate—now show me what this knot of yours can do.”
There’s a shift of his hips, and he repositions his grip. Then he pulls back and drives in again—harder. “This knot is yours. Only yours.”
That does something to me. I gasp, the sound breaking loose. “Yes—fuck—”
He sets a rhythm—steady, measured, but relentless. Each thrust is deep, precise, like he’s mapping me from the inside out.
I lose track of everything else. My eyes slam shut for a moment, my body reacting faster than I can think.
He keeps working my cock, grip firm, pace matched to every movement of his hips. He’s controlling all of it. Every second.
The furs beneath my knees shift, his breath rough and eyes wide and wild, the sound of skin meeting skin—
I break.
The cry tears out of me as I come, my whole body locking up, release hitting hard and unforgiving.
It doesn’t stop there.
It keeps going—wave after wave dragging me under, stripping everything else away until there’s nothing left but sensation and heat and him—
And then something shifts.
A deeper pressure.
I feel it—low and sudden—as his body changes against mine. The push is different now. Broader. Anchoring.
My breath stutters. “Varek—” The word fractures as the pressure takes hold, not painful, not overwhelming—just inescapable. Like something clicking into place.
Locking.
My body reacts before my brain catches up, a helpless shudder running through me as that fullness turns absolute. There’s no slipping away from it. No easing back.
We’re—
“Fuck,” I breathe, dazed, half laughing, half gone. “That’s—”
I don’t even have a word for it.
It feels so perfectly right.
Inevitable.
Like my body was waiting for this exact shape inside of it, this exact moment of being held in place with nowhere to go.
Varek follows with a low, guttural sound, his release driving deep, each pulse grounding me further, keeping me exactly where he wants me—where I can’t leave.
Nor do I want to.
My arms give out.
He’s already there, catching me, sitting up and holding me upright like I weigh nothing, one arm locked around me as if the rest of the world has stopped mattering.
His mouth presses warm against my neck, breath rough and controlled—but there’s something else in it now. Something heavier.
Claiming.
Final.
The bond between us flares—low and steady and complete in a way it wasn’t before—and it hits me all at once.
We’re stuck like this.
Connected.
Held.
And for the first time since this started, since any of this started, I don’t fight it.
It’s… fuck…
It’s perfect.
I’m breathing hard, shaking, tears slipping loose without permission.
He wipes them away, slow and deliberate. “Breathe out, my mate.”
I do as he says. Instantly. Because when he sounds like that—steady and certain—I know I always will.
The bond hums between us as I blink, completely spent.
Everything eases slowly, and though it’s not all at once, it’s just enough to feel him still there, still holding me, still comforting me. He shifts us carefully, adjusting the furs, never letting go, like it’s not even an option.
I let my head drop against him, exhausted. “If you tell anyone I cried,” I mutter, voice wrecked, “I’ll deny it.”
A pause. Then, softer, against my hair, he says, “Of course.”
The bond warms.
Traitor.