Everyone unanimously agreeing that Valko's nickname should be 'Koko' is beautiful. Like koko and cocoa AND its perfact that he loves CHOCOLATE I LOVE IT SO MUCH
The first time Valko realized you were ovulating, he genuinely thought he was losing his fucking mind.
You’d only been dating for a little while, and nothing could’ve prepared him for it. One day your scent shifted; subtle to anyone else, but to a werewolf? It crashed into him like a goddamn truck. Warm. Sweet. Addicting. Every instinct buried beneath his goofy, affectionate exterior clawed its way to the surface all at once.
From that moment on, he couldn’t think straight. He tried so damn hard not to let you catch on. He stopped himself from lingering every time he hugged you. Forced himself to keep a few extra feet between you whenever he could. Every time you walked past him, he’d turn his head and grit his fangs because one deep breath was enough to have every feral thought in his brain screaming at him.
It was torture. Your scent followed him everywhere, clinging to his clothes, his sheets, his thoughts. He wanted to bury himself between your plush thighs every second of the day just to breathe you in, and it took every ounce of self-control he had not to.
Eventually…He cracked. Fresh out of the shower, you wandered into the bedroom only to freeze in the doorway. There stood your giant werewolf boyfriend in front of the laundry hamper, your used panties clutched tightly in both hands while he shamelessly buried his face into the fabric, dragging in a desperate breath like it was the only thing keeping him alive. The thick outline of the fattest erection strained against his sweatpants.
The second he noticed you standing there, his ears burned bright red. He froze. Slowly lowered the panties.
“…I can explain.”
The words came tumbling out in one long, panicked ramble. He admitted your scent had changed. That he’d figured out you were ovulating. That his werewolf instincts had gone completely fucking haywire. That he’d been trying so hard not to make it your problem because he knew how insane this looked. And he was so, so sorry for being a complete creep.
The poor man looked absolutely mortified. Meanwhile, you couldn’t stop laughing.
He kept apologizing every other sentence, refusing to meet your eyes while looking like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. He was so genuinely ashamed of himself that it was impossible not to find the whole thing weirdly…Cute. Until your eyes drifted downward. He was still painfully hard.
“…Wait,” your laughter fizzled into surprised disbelief, “are you seriously that worked up?”
He squeezed his eyes shut and let out the most defeated groan you’d ever heard, “I am.”
Before you could tease him another second, he suddenly scooped you clean off your feet like you weighed nothing.
You yelped as he carried you to the bed with determined, almost frantic need. He practically threw you onto the mattress before immediately following after you, caging you beneath his huge frame. He buried his face against your neck, breathing you in with a shaky, indulgent sigh, his restraint hanging by a thread before his voice dropped into a rough growl that sent a shiver racing down your spine.
Infold dangled the carrot (Valko) in front of us, only to turn around, pull out a fucking bat and beat the shit out of us
Open communication can forgive a lot of things or at the very least temper everyones anger to an understandable level, but doing nothing and staying silent is a statement in and of itself
When your daughter's psychiatrist suggests you get in touch with your abusive ex-husband in prison for her sake, you're not thrilled. Fortunately for you, he's dead. Unfortunately for you, someone else is alive and very keen on playing the part of a doting father. wc: 3.4k
PART I | PART 2.1 (you are here)
I would like to know the color of your eyes.
You wiped down the kitchen counter in a daze, the rag swiping over and over a spot that was already clean. The ten words repeated themselves in a loop, one you hadn't been able to escape since receiving them two weeks ago.
You weren't ashamed of chickening out. It didn't take anything to tell him what a drab and dull hue the color of your eyes were. Millions of people existed with the same set of eyes. It wasn't even a risk, a harmless question.
Loaded with so much intensity it took your breath away.
Every night before bed you would find yourself going over the letter, tempted to pick up a pen and write something back but the seemingly innocent question was so much more than it looked like. It felt like a caress to the cheek, whispers carrying over in the wind, the slight thrill that ran through your veins when doing something that was forbidden. It felt wicked and evil. Felt dangerous. Like your heart dropping when you tip off a cliff and go plunging into the roaring waves.
You were waiting for the waves to break skin.
His newest letter lay on top of the refrigerator, the only color in your washed-out, run-down apartment. You'd already gone through the contents of his letter to your daughter, the only letter in the envelope, resealing it to give to her when she got home. Why would he write to you when you'd given him no reason to?
You didn't want to invite him into your space any more than he already took up. The line that had been drawn in the sand had been washed away but you were picking up the stick again. You'd guard over that line yourself.
Determined, you sat down to write.
What crime are you guilty of?
Other than wanting to know you better?
Of course he would ignore your question. So, you decide to ignore his blatant flirting. He was hedging just like you were, both of you, peas of the same pod. You wouldn't show your cards till he surrendered and from what you'd gathered, he wasn't one to bow out so easily.
Almost as if he could guess that you were getting ready to shut him out again, you notice the tiny -> arrow at the bottom of the page before you flip it around to see he'd scribbled something at the back as well.
Was that question too difficult? I understand. Here's a simpler one. What's your favorite color? The little bunny likes pink or purple but I can't tell. Does her Mommy prefer the same?
It was simpler. After putting your daughter to bed, you sat on the kitchen counter, pen poised at the paper but not writing. You couldn't remember the last time you'd thought about such innocuous things. A favorite color, your favorite weather or even something as silly as your favorite candy. It had been too long since you'd wondered about these things. That innocence had long been snatched away.
Lightning flashed outside the window, catching your eye. A moment passed before the rumble of thunder followed. And like everytime it rained, you were thinking of that night.
If you closed your eyes, you could still picture the droplets on your skin coming in through the open window. The glass shard seeping deep into your foot, the living room turned upside down and the TV shattered in the middle of it from where he had thrown it at you. Between it all, you hadn't been able to tell if your forehead was also cut or if it was the rain. It was such an impractical thing to be focusing on, but you'd chosen self-preservation. And yet, you didn't dare raise your hand to touch and find out, hadn't dared remove them from around your belly as you did your best to shield your unborn child.
Lightning struck outside the window again. And even with your eyes open, you pictured it clearly. The image burned deep behind your eyelids for all of eternity.
Crimson. Unlike any you'd ever seen. Shining, gleaming, burning.
With a wry smile, you refocus back on the paper and start writing.
Bunny's preferences change like the season. Last month her favorite color was orange. This month is pink.
Mine's red.
Mine's red.
Three words. Eight letters. Shot to his chest straight as if she'd uttered them right to his face.
Red. Of course your favorite color had to be red. The universe had a twisted sense of humor.
Lying in bed, your letter covered his eyes as Sylus inhaled every last bit of your perfume lingering on it. For the two weeks you had gone silent on him again, he wondered if you were done entertaining his antics.
Then he wondered if you'd correctly deduced the deeper implications of his question. The intimacy around it was as subtle as him screaming it in your face. And still, it bothered him. Every word you wrote to him bothered him. He wanted to get to know you but knew that anything personal would have you running for the hills. You were cautious, too cautious.
So, why then, were you entertaining a criminal? Involving your daughter in something that clearly went against your principles?
When he sits up, he notices the tiny, identical arrow at the bottom of the page and flips it over to see what else you had to say.
Dodging questions doesn't make you look any more innocent.
With a smile threatening to break, Sylus realizes you're not going to make it easy on him. He much preferred it that way. The following day, with his pen hovering over the paper, he makes up his mind as he begins writing.
The red packaging was glaring back at you.
Imagine your horror when you opened the sweet old lady's mailbox and a red package the size of your head, barely fitting inside was staring back at you. There was no mistaking who it was from, who it was for, and you'd quickly tossed it into your bag before anyone saw.
You were so paranoid that he might have someone watching at the post office for who takes his letters that you'd resorted to using this poor woman's address and now, now the fear had you by the neck, sweating and shivering in broad daylight.
You'd torn open the packaging as soon as you got home, before you even put your bag down, plucking out the softest, sweetest looking bunny plushie with pink fur complete with a purple tiara.
You hated your heart for flipping the way it did.
Does the little princess like her gift? I'm sorry for sending one impromptu without your permission.
Do you like yours?
You drop the letter immediately, digging through the box and coming up with a silk cloth. Too big to be a handkerchief, just barely passing the mark for a scarf. Silk, extravagant and pricier than you could ever afford. The little S stiched in the corner catches your eye, makes your heart race.
The color is an exact match of your favorite shade of red. Leaves you a little light-headed. And then the paranoia comes crashing back.
Akin to the previous letter, there's an arrow mark guiding you to flip the page.
I'm not innocent and I won't claim to be. I simply do not wish to lose a beloved pen pal and my access to her drawings.
I beat up a man within an inch of his life.
Your heart is beating so loudly that you cannot process anything over the rush in your ears. Cannot stop rereading the words. Cannot stop the tremble in your hands, the way they shake, the way your knees buckle. You hold on to the counter to give yourself some reprieve.
You'd been playing house with a criminal. How could you have given him the benefit of doubt for a single second?
Old habits die hard, you thought bitterly as you cleaned up the mess, tossing the wrapping paper and opening his letter to your daughter to inspect it. It was a pattern with you now. Ten guys could line up in front of you and you'd skip over all the 9 decent ones to choose the trashy jerk.
You're irrationally angry with yourself for entertaining him at all, for letting yourself get carried away like this. You're tossing the wrapping paper in the trash, mind half made up to do the same with the plushie but a hollow feeling taking shape in your stomach gives you pause.
The bunny is soft beneath your labor-roughened fingers, the calloused skin that was always peeling off. You wouldn't be able to afford buying a soft toy this expensive for your daughter without feeling like you'd burned a hole through your wallet. Even if you saved up for months, you would never put that money toward a plushie and you knew it. The one you'd recently bought for your daughter couldn't even begin to compare to this one.
You take your foot off the pedal of the trash can, sighing deeply. You were tired to the very bones of your body, so exhausted and worn out that you didn't remember a time before it. What it was to be carefree and relaxed. All your life, for as long as you could remember, had been spent running. First from your irresponsible, junkie parents who had tried selling you to be able to afford the drugs they preferred and then from your husband who'd trapped you in an abusive marriage before you could see the signs.
Placing the bunny on the counter, you pick up the letter again, ready to pocket it to trash it with the scarf later, when the tiny writing you didn't notice before catches your eye.
He deserved it.
The hollow feeling that had been expanding past your gut and into your chest bursts like a balloon, all the air in your lungs leaving you in a single exhale.
You don't know what it is about this criminal but his silent conviction and the quiet certainty with which he wrote those words gives you pause. He didn't overexplain his side, didn't try to play it off and brush it under the rug. He didn't shy away from answering your question (this time) but he didn't feel the need to defend himself.
With a sigh filled with long suffering, you come to a conclusion you're not enthusiastic about.
You believed him.
The little princess loves the plushie, thank you. I do hope this is the extent of your generosity though.
->
What did he do?
And you? Did you like your gift?
->
I think I'll spare you the gory details, darling. Trash needs cleaning and I feel necessary to see it through myself sometimes.
You stopped asking questions after that. You liked to think it was none of your business but frankly, you were scared to find out. Scared that his answer would inevitably lead to the end of this budding acquaintanceship.
It would seem Bunny wasn't the only one who was lonely.
Did you like your gift?
Your only guiding force in life was to give your daughter a good life and ever since she'd clutched your finger in the dingy hospital room where you'd given birth, you knew you'd do anything to make her happy. Happier than you could have ever imagined yourself to be.
To see those drawings with the black crayon marring all the other colors on the page had broken your heart. The fact that she didn't make a peep or a single complaint when you had to pull long shifts at work and couldn't pick her up from school wrecked your soul. You wanted to give her everything she'd ever want. That had made you risk something this dangerous just to please her. And you would do it every time.
But that scarf, that was the one thing that was yours. It was the first time you'd ever been gifted something, not too extravagant, barely constituting as a present but still, you wanted it just for yourself. For once. Something that inherently belonged only to you. That wasn't thrifted or bought second hand.
And so, it sat in the back of your closet, in an unmarked box like a secret. Like something of great value. Like it was your most prized possession. Like it was priceless.
It drew out a pathetic laugh from your throat. Your most prized possession was a handkerchief from a criminal serving a sentence of heaven knew how long? Truly pathetic.
No. And I would appreciate it you refrained from sending anything else going forward.
Now you weren't only pathetic, you were also a coward.
The following week, you receive a blank cheque in the mail.
I apologize for the gift; it was certainly in poor taste. There is no limit on the amount for the cheque. Treat yourself to something special on my behalf, please?
No innuendo. Just a request. Your gaze kept snagging on the last word like it was a gravitational pull. Why did you feel like this was a man that did not plead often, if ever?
The cheque feels weightless in your palm but also weighs you down like a truckload on your chest. Your eye immediately drops to check the name on the bottom right only to see initials.
S.Q
His name really was Skye then?
No matter how tempted you were, you refused to involve yourself with the likes of such men- people, again. You would not give him a chance to trace any of your actions back to you. The moment your daughter starts showing signs of her positive disposition returning, this penpal-ship was coming to an end.
But the sad, pitiful part of you was so tempted. If there really was no limit to the cheque, you take a moment and glance around your dingy apartment, wouldn't that be nothing short of a miracle for you?
With a twofold, the cheque is torn and the pieces flutter around the kitchen. A pathetic laugh escapes you when you realize your fingers are twitching with the urge to tape it all back together.
Last thing you needed was charity.
Even if it didn't feel like it.
Thank you for the cheque but I think it was too excessive. Let's refrain on sending any type of gifts altogether. Bunny included.
You find yourself thinking of him often at work as you wipe down tables and mindlessly carry orders around like muscle memory. If you let yourself indulge, you could go hours without realizing where you were, what you should've been doing.
He'd said his hair was lighter in color. Was it light brown or more of a sandy blond? If he had beaten a man within an inch of his life, he'd have to be built like a tank to achieve it, right? What color were his eyes? Did he have scars? Tattoos? Pointed nose or button? Did he wear his hair longer or was it cut short to the scalp? Did he wear specs? How old was he? What work did he do before committing the crime? Was he in the shady business long term?
You thought back to the cheque he'd sent to you. No limit, he'd said. Was this one of his tactics to lure unsuspecting women in? Was he in the business of trafficking?
That line of thought startles you to the point of dropping your tray, the clatter drawing attention of all the patrons in the restaurant. Your heart drops when you notice the broken dishes and know that it will be docked out of your pay. You don't even get a chance to think your actions through, immediately dropping to your knees and picking up the shards, numbed to the point that you don't feel anything when a few of the pieces break skin.
You're dragging your feet on your way home, well past midnight when you'd gotten to work nearly 16 hours ago, on your feet the entire time save for two half hour breaks in the middle. Sending your daughter to a good school and paying for a child therapist was going to run you into the ground.
Even as you fight the tears welling in your eyes, you know you wouldn't choose to go any other way.
You cross the mailbox, belatedly realizing it was a Tuesday as you go to check it. The crappy events of the day have only made you regret tearing up the blank cheque even more. So, what if some bored criminal 'billionaire' wanted to do some charity? He wouldn't blink if a few thousand went missing from his bank account, wouldn't even care.
When you get home, Bunny is already in bed. Your precious daughter was too mature for her age, and you hated it. Hated that you were stealing her innocent childhood from her just because her mother couldn't make the right decisions in life. For the longest time, you sit by her bedside and watch her sleep.
It's only when you're tucking her blanket tighter around her that you notice her clutching her new bunny and remember the letter in your purse.
The bulb above the kitchen table flickers once, twice, thrice and just as you're convinced that it needs replacing and your dwindling savings are going to take a hit again today, the light flicks on. Using your closed fists to massage your knotted shoulders, you pluck out the letter, bypassing the one for Bunny for the moment.
So, it would be okay if I drew pictures too?
Underneath the writing there was a stick figure drawing of three people, clearly a family. He'd drawn bunny ears for the shorter girl standing between the two adults, holding their hand. The 'mom' had cat ears, and the 'dad' had devil horns.
Before you can help it, you're laughing at how ridiculously endearing it was. He'd doodled what looks like a tiny crow next to his stick figure, a cat next to yours and a wand in Bunny's hand. It is the silliest, most goofy sketch you've ever seen, and you love it to bits.
Your smile drops immediately when you realize how easily the laugh had come to you; how light and carefree you'd felt just a second ago. The day from hell that you'd just experienced felt so far away, like it was from a different lifetime and that scares you. Enough to stand up again to dispel the spell even if your feet were killing you.
Unacceptable. You were falling back into old patterns, newer tricks with the same outcome, and you were done. The only person you're living for is your daughter and no one else has any place in the life you've built for the both of you.
But as you lay in bed that night, you're thinking of the tiny sketch again, a smile splitting your lips so wide as you recall how adorable it was.
With a silent apology to your daughter, you close your eyes. He may not have a permanent place in the life you'd built but just for a little while, you could pretend.
Right?
Pictures are okay but you need to sharpen your skills.
Pardon me for not being as talented as our daughter pretty princess. My talents lie elsewhere, I'm afraid.
You ignore his usage of our even as you fight a smile.
What do you do for a living? Apart from being the occasional garbage collector and a struggling artist?
Sylus laughs, immediately sitting down to write back.
Meditate, mostly. Solitary confinement can be lonely. Occasionally participate in the sparring matches here on Saturday to pass time.
You weren't a fool. Solitary confinement wasn't just given to just any other inmate. The crime had to be of a serious measure, or he'd have to be someone who was a danger to other criminals.
Maybe if you stopped beating up people, they'd let you in a public space instead of keeping you isolated.
Do you atleast win these matches?
Do you atleast win these matches?
Sylus has to rub the back of his palm over his mouth- once, twice before he gives up any attempt to hold his amusement down, smiling so wide it hurts his cheeks.
I cannot be blamed for the half-witted fools who challenge me in the ring. Besides, you need to get a few bones broken to build resilience (:
If I said no, will you tend to my wounds?
You're rolling your eyes when you first read the words, but you've smiled to yourself all day every time you've thought of them.
Sylus opens your letter impatiently.
I'm not your caretaker.
His brows furrow at the flippant tone. Confused, he peeks into the envelope to see if there was more. Between his daughter's letter and the envelope, there's something lodged in the middle and he plucks it out, only to bark out in laughter when he lays his eyes on it.
->
Bunny is.
Please thank Princess Bunny for her care and the hello kitty band-aid. Atleast someone cares for her old man. Her mother's charm is her cruelty.
All your life you'd felt like a pushover. Someone who was used to being walked all over. A doormat.
Your lips lifted. Felt nice to hear you had claws too.
How old are you?
Old enough to be the starring role in every fantasy you've had of me.
That letter gives you pause. Makes you look around like he'd caught you. Like he knew what you did lying in bed. You decide he needs humbling.
Sylus is brimming with tension when he plucks out the second letter in the envelope. It had been 3 weeks since you'd responded and he'd worried that he'd taken it too far, that you were done with him, spent sleepless nights wondering if you'd write back.
Full of ourselves, are we?
Feeling left out, darling? Want to feel ful(l of me)filled too?
You hate that he doubled down every time. There was really no humbling a man who considered himself above the average lot.
You kiss your mother with that mouth?
Your response is instantaneous this time and he can almost feel the way you must be seething, if the blot of ink against the letters is any indication.
No, just our daughter's mother.
There was truly no winning with him.
A/N: First things first, I know the chapter is a bit underwhelming as compared to all the promise of the premise but there's a reason I'm calling this part 2.1 cuz I am a staunch believer in buildup, and I want to do it justice.
Secondly, I am OVERWHELMED at the response the first part got. The kind words everyone wrote, trust me when I say I reread the comments hundreds of times and scrolled thru the reblogs like a fanatic. Truly thankful to everyone who stopped a second to say such sweet things, in my comments, in the reblogs and even my asks. I'm so grateful<3
Feel free to reach out if you notice any typos or errors!
Ok so role-playing with valko but its literally just the shitpost below (warning mpreg mention)
Id get Valko pregnant three times and stop paying child support then he'd come to my house, we'd argue and he would say he was going to take me to court then Id pull him into a corner and get him pregnant for the fourth time
Valko x you, Cutesy weekend nap moment after you've been worked to the bone at work. (Not relatable at all im super rich and dont work 100% truthful here! This is a joke i havent finished my report boss pls dont fire me)
Uh slightly suggestive but mostly fluff!
Imagine being in Valko's bed - Messy bed head, mismatched pajamas and dark circles under your eyes from the exhaustion of work.
It's finally a weekend where you and Valko were planning to relax, and catch up on chores together.
Except. Those fucking birds just would NOT stop.
You'd been awoken from your deep sleep by the annoyingly crisp chirping from the open windows. Plus the burning rays of sunlight currently piercing your eyelids might have something to do with that?
A gentle sigh of disappointment escapes you; another morning your body hasn't been allowed to sleep in and be lazy.
But none of that matters, really.
Because all you can focus on is the warmth of the firm grip Valko's arm has on your waist, as he snuggles in closer to you.
You find yourself smiling gently, remembering how Valko had pampered you yesterday, after you had complained extensively about the long hours at work.
Well, first his dick did. Thoroughly.
(In his defense, you did say you wanted to seduce the chairman of EonCore Tech so you could live the easy life. How was he supposed to know it was a joke? When you looked at him with those eyes?)
And afterwards, he made sure you had a long night's sleep by cocooning you in his embrace.
You flush as you remember his words from last night: All of his wealth was yours regardless, and he was proud of how committed you were to your job. And if you ever wanted to take a break, he was at your disposal.
You didn't escape his reassuring comments, since he had locked each one in with a peck to your eyes, nose, cheeks and finally, your mouth.
He was proud of you, he loved your resilience, you deserved to rest.
His hands cradled your face as you smiled like love struck teenagers at each other, bodies melting into each other's arms.
Another sweet moment you'd cherish forever.
After your eyes stopped being boiled in their sockets, preferably.
Attempting to turn away from the dazzling rays and protect your poor eyes, you find Valko's grip doesn't allow you to.
Oh, no. He only pulls you in closer, almost purring contentedly as his nose caresses your neck.
You try to ignore the warmth it invokes in your cheeks by focusing on how many chores you have to do today. How much you have to catch up on this weekend!
Ignoring the slight displeasured scrunch of his nose as you wiggle in his grasp, you try again.
Key word: try.
Valko's arms encircle you and roll you onto his chest as you gape down at him, no longer sleepy in the slightest.
His golden gaze pins you in place, low lidded as they meet yours. He mumbles something unintelligible before pulling you closer, face to face as his eyes slowly close again.
He looks so vulnerable you can't help but cuddle in closer to him, huffing a laugh as your eyes close, ceding any semblance of being productive this weekend.
Summary: His fangs caught the moonlight as he smiled; not warmly, not playfully, but with the slow satisfaction of a predator that already knew how this hunt would end, “what does Little Red Riding Hood say to the big bad wolf before he devours her?”
Your pulse stumbled. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the metalized claws hooked into your bra as Valko began to draw them downward with agonizing slowness. The sharpened steel split through the fabric as though it barely existed, the padded cup resisting for only a heartbeat before surrendering with a soft, deliberate tear. You watched the lace peel apart inch by inch by the path of his evol, exposing the pale stuffing packed inside the cup as the fabric split around it beneath his gaze. He didn’t rush it. He toyed with you, dragging his gleaming claws through the cup with deliberate enthrallment until the ruined fabric hung open, treating you less like someone he intended to undress and more like live prey he wanted to savor before the inevitable.
Word Count: 45k
Warnings/Themes: 18+, MDNI! Dominant!Valko, BratTamer!Valko, Mean!Valko, Rough!Valko, Himbo!Valko, Simping!Valko, Predator/Prey, Primal, BDSM, Restraints, Pet Play, Alpha/Beta, Aftercare, Creampie, Multiple Orgasms, Squirting, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Biting, Size Kink, Bondage, Sexual Overstimulation, Edging, Orgasm Denial, Forced Orgasm, Evol Used As Restraints and Toys, Pet Names, Praise, Marking, Scenting, Full Moon, Pining, Full Nelson Position, Crying, Light Choking
A/n: Please reblog if you enjoy! ^^
❤️ AO3 Link | Valko Masterlist ❤️
Tonight was going to be your first real date with Valko. Not another extended, fancy dinner that conveniently stretched long past sunset after an exchange of intel and research. Not drinks shared across the table after a PowerPoint presentation that somehow ended with him insisting you stay the night so you wouldn’t have to drive home, leaving you tucked into his absurdly oversized bed while he happily claimed the couch without a single complaint. No more corny excuses to linger together just a little longer because you couldn’t bring yourself to admit you were starting to catch feelings, and he didn’t want to scare you away by confessing that he’d already fallen first. Tonight was different. Tonight was a date without any bullshit. A movie together, followed by coming back to his place for a home-cooked dinner.
As you stood in front of the mirror getting ready, smoothing your little dress into place before reaching for your makeup, you couldn’t stop wondering what was going to happen tonight. Your nerves refused to settle, your thoughts bouncing anxiously between excitement and anticipation until your stomach fluttered with restless energy. The implications were impossible to ignore. You’d be going back to his place after the movie, and odds were you’d end up sleeping over. But after everything that had happened last night…Would the two of you finally go even further?
After all, last night had hardly gone the way either of you probably expected. What had started as another one of your private little business meetings, followed by a pricy dinner in a private room, had ended with Valko buried between your thighs, ravaging you like his life depended on it. He’d devoured you with such relentless, desperate hunger that it almost seemed instinctive, as though nothing else in the world existed besides the taste of you. By the end of it, that taste alone had been enough to make him cum untouched, ruining himself right there in his expensive slacks without ever laying a hand on his own cock.
You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. You simply couldn’t stop replaying him. Over and over, every tiny detail looped mercilessly through your mind. Even now, with one hand carefully guiding your eyeliner across your lash line, your face burned with embarrassing warmth as the memories flooded back in vivid, mortifying detail. The wet, filthy sounds of him slurping, smooching, sucking, growling into your pussy echoed inside your head with startling clarity, every lewd noise making your pulse race just a little faster.
And then, almost as if he’d plucked the thought straight from your mind, your phone buzzed.
Valko: Can I be honest?
Valko: I can’t stop thinking about last night. So if I act like an idiot around you tonight feel free to slap the shit out of me and put me in my place.
A snort escaped before you could stop it.
You: I’d be happy to.
Valko: Atta girl. >:D
That fucking idiot. That absolute buffoon. You bit back another laugh, shaking your head as you returned your attention to the mirror, carefully continuing to doll up your face. The corners of your mouth refused to stay down, betraying you with a smile that grew wider the longer you stared at his messages. Somehow, despite being one of the most influential men in Linkon, despite carrying himself with all the confidence and authority expected of the chairman of EonCore Tech, he still managed to text you like an overexcited golden retriever who had just discovered emojis.
Another vibration.
Valko: So…
God. That clingy puppy. You stared at the screen for a beat, already knowing he wasn’t done.
You: ?
Your smile softened despite yourself. You had to admit, having the fucking chairman of EonCore Tech wrapped so completely around your pinkie was doing something downright wicked to you. You liked him. You genuinely, sincerely did, and you were getting increasingly worse at pretending otherwise. What you hated admitting, even to yourself, was just how weak in the knees it made you to watch someone so big, so powerful, so important crumble into an utterly pathetic mess for you. It should have embarrassed you.
Instead, you fucking loved it. You loved how hopelessly obsessed he was with you, how every passing day seemed to pull him in deeper until he hardly bothered hiding it anymore. You loved the way his werewolf biology had trapped him, making him gravitate toward you as his fated mate with an instinct he couldn’t outrun no matter how composed he tried to be. But even more than that, you loved knowing there was something beyond instinct. Beneath all of that biology, beneath every feral urge that drew him closer, you could genuinely tell he was falling for you all on his own.
Your phone buzzed again.
Valko: Would you find it in your heart, just this once, to be kind enough to me to let me do it again?
A laugh burst out of you before you could contain it. Rolling your eyes with a grin that refused to fade, you grabbed your phone off the vanity, making your way toward your bag while typing back.
You: Are you really gonna beg me for a treat over text??
His response came almost instantly, as though he’d been sitting there staring at the conversation, waiting for those little typing bubbles to appear.
Valko: I’ll do it again in person if you want. Woof.
Oh God. Your face radiated heat as you crouched down to slip on your shoes, the warmth creeping all the way to the tips of your ears while you tried, and failed, not to grin like an idiot at your phone.
You: You’re shameless and pathetic.
Valko: And you enjoy it.
Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a second. Damn him. Sure, he was pathetic. Completely, unapologetically pathetic when it came to you. He begged, he whined, he shamelessly asked for affection and praise with absolutely zero dignity left to preserve. But beneath all of that neediness was a man who never hesitated to call you out whenever he caught you trying to hide your own feelings. Ugh.
Valko might have happily reduced himself to a clingy, lovesick mess whenever you were around, but underneath it all, there was still something undeniably commanding about him. He had this irritatingly effortless way of demanding your honesty without ever having to demand it outright. He didn’t need to beg for that part. He simply looked at you, spoke plainly, and somehow expected the truth. As needy and vulnerable as he could become, he remained just as blunt, just as dominant, refusing to let you dodge around your own emotions.
And honestly…That was kind of hot. It was an intoxicating contrast. One moment he was practically on his knees asking for permission to taste you again, and the next he was confidently pinning your brain down with nothing more than a single sentence because he already knew exactly how you felt. He knew you enjoyed it. And the worst part was…He was right.
You: I do.
The typing bubbles barely had time to disappear.
Valko: ❤️
Valko: Here btw. Ready when you are.
You blinked. Oh. He was already here? God, he was sneaky. Quickly slipping your phone into your pocket, you unlocked the front door and pulled it open, only for your gaze to be met immediately by the broad expanse of his chest. Standing that close, he seemed even bigger than usual, his leather jacket fitting his broad frame perfectly. Your eyes traveled upward until they found his face, where an unmistakably pleased smile spread across his lips the moment he saw you.
One of his hands stayed tucked neatly behind his back while the other lifted in greeting, his fingers curling and uncurling in a tiny little squeeze toward you like a fucking puppy wagging its tail. Cute. Hopelessly, painfully cute. He smelled nice, too. Whatever cologne he’d chosen lingered subtly in the evening air, clean and expensive without being overpowering, mixing with the familiar scent that was uniquely him. He looked nice. More than nice, really. He looked handsome. Deliberately put together. Like someone who had spent just a little too long deciding what to wear because tonight mattered to him.
Somehow, simply knowing that made the air between you feel different. Softer. Warmer. Charged with a quiet anticipation that neither of you had quite felt before. You found yourself smiling before you even realized you were doing it.
“Got ya something,” he said, bringing the hand hidden behind his back around with a flourish. A bouquet of flowers appeared in front of you, and his grin widened proudly, “ta-dah!”
Oh. How sweet. Your smile only grew wider as you looked down at the bouquet, your heart squeezing painfully at the unexpectedly thoughtful gesture. A soft laugh escaped you before you could stop it, warmth blooming through your chest as you accepted the flowers.
“How prettyyyy~” you sang, lifting the bouquet to your nose as you stepped a little closer to him, breathing in their fresh, delicate scent with a contented hum, “they smell so nice, thank you…Aren’t you sweet?”
Before he could react, you snuck one hand up between the two of you and pinched his nose, giving it a playful little wag from side to side as a fit of giggles escaped you.
“Ow!” He immediately reached up, trying to swat your hand away while laughing at the same time, “hey!”
You finally relented, taking mercy on the poor thing before he suffered any further indignity at your hands. Honestly, he was just so ridiculously easy to bully that it was almost impossible to resist. There was something endlessly endearing about it. This giant, six-foot-two werewolf, who could probably intimidate just about anyone else with a single look, somehow turned into more of a toy than a fearsome lycanthrope whenever he was around you. For all his size, strength, and reputation, he let you poke, tease, and manhandle him with little more than dramatic complaints and an amused grin.
“Lemme put these in a vase…” You said, absentmindedly lifting the bouquet to your nose for another appreciative sniff as the sweet floral scent filled your lungs, “wanna come inside?”
“Oh?” His smile immediately turned mischievous as he leaned down into your space, towering over you just a little more while casually reaching one arm up to brace his hand against the top of your doorframe, “you’re inviting a wolf into your home?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time, you dork,” you replied, rolling your eyes up at that big idiot without an ounce of concern, “c’mere already…”
Reaching forward, you grabbed him by the lapel of his leather jacket. For a split second, your only intention had been to tug him across the threshold and into your apartment. But then you changed your mind. With one sharp pull, you yanked him down to your height instead. The sudden movement caught him completely off guard, surprise flashing across his face just before you leaned in and stole a quick kiss. It was brief, just enough for your lips to brush his before you pulled away again, never giving him nearly enough time to recover from the surprise, let alone chase after the kiss himself.
Smiling to yourself, you turned back toward the apartment as though nothing had happened, still holding onto the lapel of his jacket while you guided him over the threshold behind you. Only once he was properly inside did you finally release him. Behind you, you heard him laugh in disbelief.
“Wait, hold on,” he said, still sounding adorably flustered, “what was that??”
Before you could make it any farther into the apartment, or even think about hiding the warmth rapidly spreading across your cheeks, his fingers slipped around your wrist. His grip was gentle but certain, stopping you effortlessly as he stepped around you until he was standing directly in your path. The movement was so fluid that by the time you realized what he was doing, you were already trapped in front of him. There were no walls to duck behind, no flowers to conveniently fuss over, no escape from the way your face betrayed you. Every ounce of your embarrassment was laid bare for him to see, and judging by the huge, stupid smirk stretching across his handsome face, that was exactly how he’d wanted it.
“That wasn’t a real kiss,” he said, giving a small shake of his head as he completely dismissed your little attempt to get away with that pitiful excuse for one. His voice carried an easy confidence that contrasted so sharply with the shameless puppy who had been begging you over text only minutes ago. His eyes never left yours as the corners of his mouth curled even higher, “you c’mere.”
You couldn’t help the way your stomach fluttered. God, that seductive bastard really knew when to be assertive. It always caught you off guard. For all his clinginess and shameless simping whenever you teased him, there was another side of Valko that surfaced without warning. Beneath the needy smiles and dramatic begging was a man who carried himself with quiet certainty, who didn’t raise his voice or throw his weight around because he never had to. When he decided he wanted something, he simply reached for it with the calm confidence of someone who expected you to meet him halfway. It was infuriating. It was also ridiculously hot.
Before you had the chance to think of a comeback, his hands settled around your waist, broad palms spreading warmly against your sides through the fabric of your clothes. Then, with such effortless strength that it stole the breath from your lungs, he simply lifted you. One smooth motion was all it took for your feet to leave the floor as he bounced you lightly into his arms like you weighed absolutely nothing.
A surprised laugh escaped you before you could stop it. Your body reacted long before your mind did. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist to steady yourself while your arms slid around his neck, fingers curling against the back of his jacket as he held you securely against him. Suddenly you were face to face with him, perched comfortably in his arms with nowhere to retreat and nowhere you particularly wanted to. His warmth surrounded you from every direction, radiating through the layers of both your clothes until it seeped pleasantly into your skin. The solid strength beneath your hands was impossible to ignore, every easy adjustment of his hold reminding you just how effortlessly he carried you. He made it feel as though lifting you required no more effort than breathing.
Looking into his eyes from this close made it impossible to keep pretending to be aloof. They were fixed entirely on you, playful satisfaction softening into something quieter as he searched your face before slowly drawing you the last few inches closer. His familiar woodsy scent wrapped around you, clean and grounding, while the faint freshness of mint lingered on his breath as it brushed lightly across your lips. When they finally met, you understood immediately why he’d stopped you. God damn it. He was right. That hadn’t been a real kiss. This was.
His lips were warm and impossibly soft against yours, lingering instead of disappearing in an instant. There was no teasing peck to escape behind this time, no chance to dart away before he could return it. He kissed you properly, slowly enough for you to melt into it, holding you close in his arms as though the rest of the world had simply ceased to exist. His minty breath mingled with yours, his woodsy cologne filled every breath you took, and the steady heat of his body cocooned you so completely that, for one suspended moment, all you could focus on was him.
“That’s better,” he mumbled against your lips, the words barely more than a satisfied murmur as he stole another lingering kiss before another, completely unhurried, as though he had every intention of making up for the one you’d tried to cheat him out of. Without ever setting you down, he continued carrying you through the apartment, his footsteps naturally angling toward the kitchen so you could put the flowers in a vase.
Before you could smack him for sounding so unbearably cocky about winning that little battle, the toe of his boot caught the raised edge of the living room rug. Everything lurched. The broad, impossibly stable wall of muscle holding you upright suddenly wasn’t nearly as stable anymore.
“Woah!” You gasped, instinctively tightening your arms around his neck and clinging to him for dear life as his balance pitched dangerously forward. For one heart-stopping second it genuinely felt like the two of you were about to go crashing onto the floor in one spectacular heap. At the last possible moment, he stumbled another step, caught himself, and somehow managed to keep both of you upright, his grip around your waist tightening instinctively as he recovered, “Valko, I swear to God, you klutz!”
“What?!” He protested immediately, his voice climbing with embarrassed indignation. His cheeks flushed a deep, unmistakable pink as he did his absolute best to pretend the near-disaster hadn’t just happened, clearing his throat and continuing toward the kitchen with all the dignity he could salvage, “it’s not my fault your old ass rug has an edge flipping up! Alright, so where’s that vase—”
“—My rug isn’t old!” You shot back before he could change the subject so easily.
Straightening yourself just enough in his arms, you reached up and caught one of his warm, reddened cheeks between your fingers, giving it an unapologetically rough pinch before wagging it back and forth. His skin was pleasantly warm beneath your fingertips, made even warmer by the blush spreading across it, and the affronted look he turned on you only made it harder not to laugh.
His wolf ears had all but disappeared into his auburn hair. The poor things were practically plastered flat against his head with embarrassment, twitching bashfully toward each other as though they were trying to hide right alongside him. Even as he sent you the most annoyed little sideways glance he could muster, those traitorous ears gave him away completely, flicking with every ounce of flustered indignation he was trying, and failing, to conceal.
“You’re just a giant dumb-dumb who isn’t nearly as smooth as he pretends to be.”
“Oh yeah?” He cocked a brow at you, a smug little grin tugging at the corner of his mouth despite the lingering blush still dusting his cheeks, “and what does that make you?”
“Smoother than you, wolf boy, that’s for sure,” you teased, reaching up until your fingers found one of his soft wolf ears.
You gave it the gentlest little pinch. He didn’t even hesitate. With all the dramatic vengeance of an oversized puppy, he caught your finger between his lips before you could pull away, giving it a playful bite between the sharp edges of his fangs.
“Owwie!” You yelped through a burst of laughter, immediately swatting him over the head with your bouquet. The flowers bounced harmlessly against his hair, petals wobbling from the impact as he laughed at your retaliation, “bad dog! Bad!”
“Nom,” he replied without a shred of shame, laughing so hard his shoulders bounced beneath you, “I could chew on your yummy ass all day.”
“You’re distracting me is what you’re doing,” you huffed, wiping the damp tip of your finger dramatically across the front of his leather jacket before pointing toward one of the upper kitchen cupboards, “take me to that cupboard. I have a vase up there.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he answered without missing a beat, immediately obeying your orders as he carried you across the kitchen in the exact direction you indicated. There wasn’t even the slightest complaint in his voice; only playful amusement as he looked at you with that hopelessly fond expression he’d somehow mastered, “what else does Her Royal Highness want?”
“Hmmmm…” You exaggerated the sound, putting on your most thoughtful expression as he stopped in front of the cupboard and leaned you close enough for you to reach it comfortably.
His arms remained securely around you the entire time, holding you perfectly steady as though you were sitting on the world’s safest step stool while you stretched up to retrieve the vase from the highest shelf.
“A million bucks,” you began, opening the cupboard and carefully reaching inside, “paid vacation. Dinner by the beach during a sunset. A trip to the moon…”
Behind you, Valko cleared his throat. You ignored him completely.
“The start of a revolution…” You continued with exaggerated seriousness, biting back a smile as you pulled the tall glass vase down from the shelf before he finally lowered you onto your own feet.
The second your feet touched the kitchen floor, he cleared his throat again. Louder this time. You pretended not to notice.
“A mansion in the woods,” you went on, carrying the vase over to the sink before setting it beneath the faucet. Cool water rushed into the glass with a soft, steady splash as you turned it on, the sound filling the cozy little kitchen.
“Literally where I fucking live,” he chimed in, matching your theatrical tone perfectly as he trailed after you so closely he may as well have been your shadow. Every time you took a step, he took one too, refusing to let more than a few inches separate the two of you.
“Maybe a puppy,” you mused, tapping your chin thoughtfully as though you were genuinely considering the possibility before reaching over to shut the water off.
A long, dramatic groan escaped him. Before you could even lift the vase, he practically collapsed against your back, throwing his entire weight into you with all the shameless clinginess of an overgrown dog demanding attention. His broad arms slid heavily around your middle, wrapping securely around your frame until they pinned your own arms gently against your sides. The comforting warmth of his body enveloped you from behind as he rested his chin squarely on top of your head with a huff.
“Ugh,” he groaned dramatically, squeezing you just a little tighter, “maybe Valko!”
Oh, you loved this. You could feel your grin threatening to split your face in two as you stood there wrapped in his arms, every ounce of his shameless clinginess warming something soft inside your chest. It was impossible not to adore this side of him. For all his polished confidence and commanding presence everywhere else, the second the two of you were alone he somehow devolved into an oversized, affection-starved puppy who wanted nothing more than to drape himself over you.
You indulged him for another moment. Even with his heavy arms wrapped around your middle and his chin resting comfortably atop your head, you managed to lift your forearms enough to carefully pick up the vase. He hardly budged, content to sulk against your back while you leaned forward just enough to carry it the short distance from the sink and set it neatly onto the counter. The bouquet settled beautifully inside the glass, the fresh flowers instantly brightening the kitchen with soft bursts of color, while behind you Valko remained stubbornly attached as though he’d decided this was simply where he belonged now. Letting out an exaggerated sigh, you finally decided to humor him.
“Okay, maybe Valko…” You conceded dramatically, “but only if he doesn’t ruin my rug.”
“Pffft,” he straightened up with an offended little scoff, his large hands sliding from around your waist to rest on your shoulders instead. His palms were broad and warm where they settled, giving you an indignant little squeeze, “that’s on you. It’s uneven, that’s why the edge is flipping up like that.”
“Well, I can’t exactly lift the end of an entire sectional to flatten my rug,” turning to face him, you folded your arms across your chest, your expression settling into one of exaggerated seriousness as you glanced thoughtfully toward the living room, “unless…”
You let the thought trail off.
“…Nah,” you said.
His ears perked immediately, “what?”
You hesitated just long enough to let his curiosity build.
“Well, I was gonna say…” You brushed past him, your hip giving one of his thick, muscled thighs a light little bump as you wandered toward the living room, thoughtfully eyeing the couch and the offending corner of the rug peeking out beneath it, “if maybe you can lift it. But I don’t think—”
You didn’t even get to finish. Oh. That worked beautifully. He strode right past you before the sentence had even fully left your mouth, moving with the single-minded determination of a man who had just been handed the most important job in the world. His focus locked immediately onto the end of your sectional as he marched over to it without the slightest hesitation, looking every bit like an overexcited puppy who’d finally been given permission to prove he was useful.
You couldn’t stop yourself. A delighted grin spread across your face as you watched him go, so charmed by the sheer enthusiasm of it all that the tip of one fingernail found its way between your teeth. Warm excitement fizzed pleasantly through your stomach, bubbling higher with every determined step he took, and you found yourself standing there completely captivated by him, already fighting back another fit of giggles before he’d even done anything.
“What, this old thing?” He asked casually, jutting his chin toward your large sectional as though you had pointed out nothing more demanding than a footstool.
“Yeah, but I don’t want you to pull your back,” you replied with perfectly feigned innocence.
You followed him into the living room, making sure to drift off to the side where you’d have the best view of the entire spectacle. That big moron was already so focused on proving himself that he never questioned why you had suggested it in the first place. It wasn’t because you genuinely cared that much about the corner of your rug curling upward. It wasn’t even because watching him struggle would be entertaining. No. The real reason was far more embarrassing. Because if he could actually lift something that heavy…You already knew it would do something absolutely wicked to you.
“I mean…” You began, unable to hide the curiosity creeping into your voice as you watched him shrug his leather jacket off his broad shoulders. The soft leather slid down his arms before he casually tossed it onto the couch, freeing the powerful frame beneath, “it’s really heavy…I know you said the whole werewolf biology thing makes you—”
The rest of your sentence died on your tongue. Not because you’d forgotten what you were going to say, but because every coherent thought in your head had been replaced by the sight unfolding in front of you. Valko bent into a squat with perfect, unhurried form before slipping both hands beneath the edge of the sectional. Then, without so much as a grunt or a preparatory breath, he simply…Lifted.
The entire end of your couch rose smoothly off the floor. Effortlessly. He wasn’t straining in the slightest. There wasn’t the tiniest shake in his arms, no trembling in his legs, no tightening around his eyes. His expression remained almost offensively relaxed, as though he were picking up something light enough to carry with one hand instead of hoisting an entire end of a sectional into the air. The only indication that he was exerting any strength at all came from the way his muscles swelled beneath his shirt, his forearms tightening, his biceps and shoulders filling out with hard definition as they flexed under the weight. Even then, the ease written across his face made the display somehow even more impressive.
Still holding the couch aloft with one smooth, steady lift, he nudged the offending corner of your rug with the toe of his boot until it lay perfectly flat beneath the sectional. Then he lowered the couch back into place. The heavy furniture settled onto the floor with a solid thud that lightly vibrated through the room. Valko straightened to his full height, briefly dusted his palms together, and reached over to collect his leather jacket as casually as though he’d just finished moving a dining chair instead of lifting an entire couch.
“Anyway,” he said while slipping the jacket back into his hands, his voice so matter-of-fact that it almost made the words worse, “now that you’re done getting off on that and acting completely innocent about it…”
Heat exploded across your face. Your mouth opened. Then closed again. God damn it. He’d caught you. The smug, infuriating bastard had seen straight through your little act from the very beginning. Looking entirely too pleased with himself, he walked over until he was standing in front of you again. Whatever smugness had been dancing across his features softened almost immediately into quiet affection as he held his leather jacket out toward you instead of putting it back on himself.
“Put this on,” he said simply, “it’s cold.”
You narrowed your eyes up at him, desperately searching for something, anything, that would let you recover from having been called out so effortlessly. Nothing came. With a reluctant little huff, you reached over and all but yanked the heavy leather jacket out of his hands, “just say you wanna scent me, or whatever it’s called!”
“Fine.” He folded his arms across his chest with infuriating smugness before bending down until he was almost eye level with you.
The teasing grin faded just enough for his expression to settle into something calmer, something direct, as he looked you straight in the eyes without the slightest hint of embarrassment.
“I wanna scent ya,” his lips curled again, just enough to let you know he was enjoying every second of this, “happy?”
That infuriating bastard. You grabbed one of the oversized sleeves of his jacket and smacked him squarely in the chest with it. He laughed. A full, bright laugh that rumbled warmly out of him as he straightened again, completely unbothered by your retaliation. If anything, he seemed even more delighted by it. Without another word, he gently took the jacket back from your hands just enough to help guide your arms into the sleeves.
The moment it settled over your shoulders, you were swallowed by it. It was enormous. The sleeves hung well past your hands, the hem falling low enough to cover your hips with room to spare, the thick leather carrying enough weight that you immediately felt wrapped up inside it. The outside smelled richly of genuine leather, softened by wear, while the inside held the unmistakable scent that belonged only to him. Beneath the earthy, woodsy fragrance lingered the faint warmth he’d left behind from wearing it moments ago, the insulated lining still comfortably warm against your skin as it settled around your smaller frame.
Valko fussed over the fit with surprising care. His large hands smoothed the jacket over your shoulders before tugging it gently into place, making sure it sat comfortably instead of bunching awkwardly around you. When the zipper halves refused to line up immediately, he bent down without complaint, his face close to yours as his fingers patiently guided them together. Once he’d caught the zipper, he slowly pulled it upward, drawing the jacket closed over your stomach before it slid smoothly over your breasts, sealing you inside its warmth.
Only then did he straighten. He paused for a second simply to look at you. A pleased smile spread across his face as though he’d just finished admiring a masterpiece. Reaching out, he rested both hands on your upper arms, his broad palms warm through the thick leather as he gave you an affectionate little squeeze, openly basking in the sight of you wearing something that belonged to him.
“Mine,” he declared with unmistakable satisfaction.
Before you could even think of protesting, he stepped closer, closing the last bit of space between you. His huge, warm hands slid gently up until they cupped your cheeks, effortlessly cradling your face as he tilted it toward his. His thumbs rested softly beneath your eyes while he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss against your lips. It lingered just long enough to leave you smiling before he drew back only a fraction of an inch, brushing the tip of his nose affectionately against yours in a gentle little nuzzle.
“You look so pretty,” he murmured, his voice warm with complete sincerity, “meant to tell ya that earlier.”
Your expression softened almost instantly. There wasn’t an ounce of teasing in his face anymore. He was simply looking at you with quiet admiration, and somehow that honesty made your heart squeeze harder than all of his shameless flirting ever could. A small smile tugged at your lips as you leaned in to kiss him back.
“Thank you…” You said softly, “you look pretty nice yourself.”
“Thanks,” his smile turned sheepish in the sweetest way, “I try.”
The sincerity in his voice matched your own. Straightening to his full height once more, he slipped both arms around you and drew you forward until you were tucked snugly against the broad warmth of his chest, wrapping you up in a tight, comfortable hug that felt every bit as safe as the jacket he had just insisted you wear.
You allowed yourself to melt into him without a second thought, the last of your teasing slipping away as you relaxed against the broad warmth of his body. Your arms found their way naturally around his waist, holding him close while his own wrapped securely around your shoulders, drawing you even tighter against his chest. One of his large hands slowly slid upward until his fingers disappeared into the roots of your hair, gently scratching at the back of your scalp with slow, affectionate strokes that sent a pleasant shiver dancing down your spine. It was such an instinctively tender gesture that you couldn’t help sinking further into him, your entire body growing heavier in his embrace as you let yourself enjoy every second of it.
He was so warm. The heavy leather jacket wrapped around you still held his lingering heat, but it paled in comparison to the warmth radiating directly from him as you stood tucked against his chest. His familiar woodsy scent surrounded you completely now, mingling with the rich smell of leather until every breath you took carried the comforting reassurance that it was him. Beneath your cheek, you could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, slow and calm, while your own gradually settled into the same unhurried pace. Even his breathing seemed to find yours after a while, each inhale and exhale quietly syncing together until the two of you stood in comfortable silence, simply existing in each other’s arms.
Behind him, you could feel the gentle swish of his tail. It moved with easy, unrestrained excitement, lazily sweeping through the air behind him in a way that made you smile to yourself. He didn’t even seem aware he was doing it. It was just another one of those little tells that always betrayed exactly how happy he was, no matter how composed he tried to act.
For a long moment, neither of you said anything. You simply stayed there, wrapped around one another, basking in each other’s warmth, each other’s scent, each other’s quiet breathing until the rest of the apartment seemed to fade away around you. Then…You felt it. A growing firmness pressed lightly against your stomach where his hips rested tall against you.
“…Val?” You mumbled into his chest, your voice slightly muffled by the fact that you were far too comfortable with your face buried between the broad muscles to bother lifting your head.
“Yeah?” He answered softly, never loosening his embrace for even a second. His fingers continued absentmindedly scratching through your hair, entirely content to keep holding you exactly where you were.
“Are you getting a boner from hugging me?” You asked.
“Yup,” he answered with complete sincerity.
The answer was so immediate, so matter-of-fact, that the two of you broke into quiet laughter together. You buried your face even deeper into his chest, your shoulders shaking against him as you laughed, while he simply held you closer as though your bodies had always been meant to fit together exactly like this. Behind him, his tail wagged with even more enthusiasm now, swishing so hard that it repeatedly smacked against the edge of the couch with a series of soft, rhythmic thump, thump, thumps, only making the moment that much more hopelessly endearing.
Eventually, the two of you made your way downstairs and out to his car together. You’d seen it before, of course. You’d just never actually been inside it. If the two of you went anywhere together late at night, especially somewhere public, he’d usually have you tucked away beside him in the back of a blacked-out limousine instead, choosing the privacy it afforded when he was less interested in being recognized or photographed as the chairman of EonCore Tech.
Tonight was different. Tonight, there was no chauffeur waiting with the door already open. There was only Valko. And his Ford Bronco. The rugged off-roading SUV looked almost amusingly out of place compared to everything else about his public image. It wasn’t sleek, understated luxury designed to ferry around an influential man. It wasn’t polished corporate perfection wrapped in tinted windows. It was practical. It was sturdy. It looked like something that spent more time on mountain trails than parked outside upscale restaurants.
Honestly…You weren’t surprised. Everything you’d learned about him outside of work painted the same picture. Beneath the tailored suits, board meetings, and public appearances was someone who genuinely loved disappearing into the wilderness whenever he had the chance. The Bronco fit that version of him perfectly. And somehow…It made this feel more real. More comfortable. Less formal. Less like you were spending an evening with the chairman of one of the world’s leading scientific companies. More like you were spending it with Valko. More like the two of you were simply…Yourselves.
The drive settled into an easy, comfortable quiet as the last light of sunset stretched across the sky ahead of you. Warm streaks of amber and gold filtered through the windshield, washing over the dashboard before fading into softer shades of pink and violet as the evening slowly gave way to night. Valko drove with the same relaxed confidence he seemed to bring to everything else, one hand resting loosely on the steering wheel while the other eventually drifted across the center console until it came to rest atop your thigh, just above your knee.
He didn’t make a big deal out of it. His hand simply stayed there. Large. Warm. Comfortably heavy. Every so often, his thumb idly stroked back and forth against your leg in slow, absentminded passes, the gentle movement almost seeming more instinctive than intentional. At first, you weren’t quite sure what to do with it. The gesture felt surprisingly intimate in its simplicity, and it took you a little while to grow accustomed to the quiet affection of it. You spent several minutes simply letting his hand remain where it was, feeling its reassuring weight against your thigh as the city gradually slipped past the windows.
Little by little, the hesitation melted away. The more comfortable you became, the more natural it started to feel. Eventually, without really thinking about it, you lifted your own hand and let your fingers curl loosely around his thumb. It wasn’t a firm grip, nor anything demanding. You simply held onto him, your fingertips resting lightly against his skin while his thumb remained nestled beneath them. He didn’t say a word. Neither did you. The two of you simply stayed like that for the rest of the drive, quietly holding hands until he finally pulled into the parking lot, shifted the Bronco into park, and climbed out. True to himself, he circled around to your side and opened the passenger door for you before offering his hand to help you out.
When the two of you finally stepped inside the theater, you immediately realized it wasn’t anything like the ordinary multiplexes you’d been to before. There weren’t endless rows of seats packed shoulder to shoulder. Instead, the room was arranged with several rounded couches tucked into their own little spaces, each one framed by high curved backings that made every seating area feel secluded from the others. Small tables sat in front of each couch, just large enough to hold drinks, popcorn, or whatever else you ordered. Every little section looked like it had been designed for two people who wanted an excuse to sit impossibly close together. It was cozy. It was cute. And as Valko guided you over to your couch, you noticed something folded neatly against the side of it. A blanket. Still sealed inside clear plastic. Your lips immediately curled into an amused smile.
“So intimate,” you commented, letting your gaze wander around the softly lit theater while Valko casually slipped his glasses onto his nose before picking up the menu to read through it. You looked back at him with a teasing grin, “what are you trying to do, huh?”
He let out an easy laugh, never missing a beat, “trying to woo you, you filthy little perv. What do you think I’m trying to do here?”
You laughed along with him, shaking your head at his shameless honesty. Before your laughter had even fully died down, he leaned closer. His large, warm hand found your thigh again, settling comfortably above your knee just as it had during the drive over. This time, instead of simply resting there, his fingers curled gently against your leg and drew it a little closer to him, closing the already small distance between the two of you. Your heartbeat immediately picked up as he leaned in until his mouth hovered beside your ear.
“What are we, two horny teenagers?” He teased. As he spoke, his free hand reached up to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear with surprising tenderness. His fingertips lingered just long enough to send a pleasant little shiver across your skin before that same arm slipped comfortably around your far shoulder, pulling you snugly against his side. His lips hovered just beside your ear as his voice dropped into a conspiratorial whisper, “y’know that management in theaters can see everything down here from the projector room, right?”
You felt it before you even heard it. He inhaled. A slow, instinctive breath against the side of your neck. His nose lingered there for the briefest moment before you felt the subtle twitch of him giving his head the tiniest shake, as though physically forcing himself to snap out of whatever biological instinct had threatened to take over the instant the scent of your pheromones reached him. You knew that little movement by now. It was the same quiet battle between instinct and self-control you’d caught glimpses of before, and this time he seemed to realize exactly what was happening just as quickly as you did.
“Gimme,” he said, suddenly reaching across your lap.
The movement was almost suspiciously abrupt. He leaned over you under the flimsy excuse of reaching for the blanket, grabbing the unopened package from the couch before shaking the plastic free with a loud crinkle. The blanket unfurled between his hands as he very deliberately put his nose as far away from your neck as possible, creating just enough distance to collect himself again. When he finally looked back at you, he shot you an exaggerated glare, his eyes flicking pointedly toward your neck as though it alone had personally offended him.
“Dirty girl…” He muttered, fighting a smile despite himself, “bet all you’ve been thinking about is last night—”
“—Hello there, how are we doing this evening?”
Valko damn near jumped out of his skin. So did you. The waiter’s voice had appeared so suddenly that it startled both of you, but the second you looked over at Valko, you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. The sight of him getting spooked by a waiter was so unexpectedly funny that your smile threatened to betray you immediately.
That clumsy idiot. Even beneath the dim glow of the theater, with most of the room bathed in darkness before the previews began, you could still see the flush blooming across his cheeks as he tried to recover from the surprise. He did his best to compose himself, his expression settling back into something almost dignified as he ordered two chocolate milkshakes, one for you and one for him, speaking with the practiced confidence of someone pretending the last five seconds had never happened.
It wasn’t long before the server walked away, leaving the two of you alone again. Valko put away his glasses and immediately busied himself unfolding the rest of the blanket over both of your laps, smoothing the fabric neatly into place with careful hands as though nothing embarrassing had happened at all. It was such an obvious attempt to glide right past his clumsy little blunder that it only made it harder for you not to tease him.
“Uh, what was that about last night?” You asked, leaning forward until you were comfortably inside his field of vision so there was no chance of him escaping your gaze when you inevitably flustered him. Beneath the blanket, your hand settled over his upper thigh, your fingers giving the firm muscle beneath them a slow squeeze, “did somebody scare the big bad wolf because his mind was drowning in filth just now?”
“Me?!” He replied, acting thoroughly offended as he practically scoffed at the accusation, “tch, I’m innocent.”
Despite his indignant performance, his hand slipped over yours beneath the blanket almost absentmindedly. His warm palm settled over the back of your hand with a gentle squeeze, and in doing so, it subtly guided your hand just a little higher along his thigh, almost as though he hadn’t even realized he’d done it. You reached up with your other hand and pinched his chin between your fingers, gently turning his face back toward you.
“Bad boy,” you teased, “you’re a terrible liar and a horny beast. What a combo.”
Rather than argue with you, he quietly retaliated. One of his arms slipped around behind your waist before you could react, and with a single tug he pulled you right against his side. The movement was smooth, affectionate, and just a little suspiciously timed, making it painfully obvious he was trying to disguise the fact that his cheeks were still flushing from being caught.
“Mister, I can’t stop thinking about last night…” You quoted teasingly, your voice dripping with amusement as a quiet giggle escaped you. You cupped his jaw in your hand and gave it a playful little shake, watching him stubbornly try to hold onto his composure for all of a few seconds before he finally broke, a helpless laugh slipping free despite himself.
Smiling triumphantly, you leaned in even closer, gently guiding him toward you until your lips met the warm curve of his dimpled cheek. You lingered there for just a heartbeat before drawing back, and it was then that you noticed the faint, rhythmic vibration traveling through the couch beneath you. Curious, your attention drifted toward his other side, where his free hand had disappeared. The sight that greeted you made your grin widen immediately. He was unsuccessfully trying to pin his tail against the seat cushion, his broad palm holding it in place while the very tip continued wagging freely anyway, flicking against the couch with excited little thumps that completely betrayed him despite his obvious attempts not to draw attention to it.
You almost laughed again. Oh, that man was such a sucker for attention. For affection. For praise. You already knew exactly what happened whenever he got even a little of it, and the mischievous thought blooming in your mind was impossible to resist. A grin tugged at the corners of your mouth as you slowly reached both hands beneath his chin without the slightest warning, launching your surprise attack by scratching him affectionately like an overgrown puppy.
The reaction was immediate. His entire expression melted with unmistakable delight before he could stop it. His eyelids grew heavy, his shoulders loosened, and his posture instinctively folded forward into your touch as though every ounce of him wanted more. It was almost unfair how quickly he unraveled beneath your fingertips, surrendering to the affection so naturally that it seemed to bypass his brain entirely. For a brief, blissful moment, he looked perfectly content to stay there, basking in the attention you were giving him, until he suddenly caught himself. A quick shake of his head broke the spell, and he straightened just enough to pull himself back together before your wicked little tactics robbed him of the rest of his dignity.
“I’d like to think it’s been the same for you,” he said, clearing his throat as though that alone might restore the composure he’d nearly lost.
Before you could sneak your hands back under his chin again, his large hand gently gathered both of your wrists together. His grip was warm and effortless as he guided them down onto the edge of the little table nearest him, loosely pinning them there. The movement wasn’t forceful in the slightest, but it naturally drew you closer across the couch until there was barely any space left between the two of you. Trapped beneath his steady gaze, you suddenly found the tables turning in the most infuriating way. The quiet confidence in his eyes made the warmth rush straight to your face before sinking lower, leaving your heart beating just a little faster and your thighs unconsciously pressing together beneath the blanket.
“Right?” He raised a brow.
You groaned, the sound dissolving into a long, defeated sigh as your confidence finally gave way. Unable to hold his gaze any longer, you looked off to the side instead, your cheeks burning with reluctant honesty, “…A little…”
“A little?” He echoed, his tone dripping with exaggerated offense.
Before you could defend yourself, he released your wrists from the edge of the table only to immediately pull you forward instead. One smooth tug drew you straight into his chest while his other arm slipped securely around your back, holding you close beneath the blanket. Your ear settled against him, and the first thing you noticed wasn’t his warmth, or the comforting scent of leather and woods that still clung to him.
It was his heartbeat. Oh, Lord. It was pounding. Wildly. The rapid, heavy rhythm thudded beneath your ear with surprising force, betraying just how much he was feeling despite the calm confidence in his voice. Holding you a little tighter, he lowered his head until his lips hovered near your hair, his words brushing warmly across your skin in a quiet whisper.
“Sorry,” he murmured, “I’ll make sure I’m the only thing you can think about after tonight.”
A helpless giggle bubbled out of you before you could stop it. You finally gave in completely, slipping both of your arms around him beneath the blanket and returning the embrace at last, snuggling comfortably against him instead of pretending to resist. As you settled closer, you couldn’t help noticing what you’d already suspected. Hidden beneath the darkness of the blanket and the cover of the little theater table, he was very obviously pitching a tent.
“Oh yeah?” You asked, laughter still lingering in your voice as you smiled against his chest, “how are you gonna manage to do that?”
Instead of answering right away, he reached up with quiet patience and gently swept your hair away from your face. Only then did you realize you’d been unconsciously using it to hide. His fingers tucked the loose strands back behind your ear, clearing your face completely before he tilted your chin upward just enough for your eyes to meet his. He searched your gaze with an almost unfair amount of tenderness, silently refusing to let you hide the effect he had on you this time. When you instinctively started to glance away again, he caught your chin between his fingers in the gentlest little pinch, holding your attention without ever making the touch feel forceful.
“Wanna sit on my face all night after dinner?” He suggested quietly.
Oh, God. Sit…On his face? Not just let him drive you insane all over again with that fat, ravenous tongue of his, but…Like that? The image exploded into your mind before you could stop it. Sitting astride his handsome face. His broad shoulders beneath your ass. Your thighs wrapped around him as he held you there, completely content to disappear between your legs all night if you’d let him. The thought alone rewired your brain. Heat flooded straight into your face before sinking much lower, pooling embarrassingly between your thighs until you could hardly remember what you’d been about to say. You stared at him, speechless, while the corners of his mouth slowly curled into a knowing smile. He could tell. He knew that a single sentence had completely scrambled every coherent thought in your head.
“Yeah,” the answer tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop it. There wasn’t a trace of your usual sass behind it, no teasing little jab, no carefully built walls, no making him work for every inch of honesty you offered. For once, you simply gave him the truth, “think you can satisfy me?”
His eyes widened just a fraction, the tiny shift in his expression betraying pleasant surprise at the challenge. It only lasted a heartbeat before the corners of his mouth curled into a broader grin, confidence replacing surprise as naturally as breathing.
“Oh,” he said, “I know I can.”
“Fine!”
“Fine.”
Before long, your chocolate milkshakes arrived, one for you and one for him, and the lights dimmed as the movie began. You spent the film quietly sipping them together, letting the story play in front of you while the comfortable silence between you settled deeper than any conversation could have. You let him keep you close, although, if you were being honest with yourself, that wasn’t entirely what was happening anymore. You weren’t simply allowing him to cuddle you because you knew it made him happy. You were enjoying it now. You found yourself leaning into him of your own accord, snuggling comfortably against his side instead of merely accepting the affection he offered. It was a subtle change, but one you couldn’t ignore. He felt good. Warm. Massive. Strong. Yet somehow, despite all of that strength, he was so incredibly gentle. So affectionate. So calm. So peaceful.
Curled against him beneath the blanket, you couldn’t help yourself when your attention wandered behind him to his enormous tail. There simply wasn’t enough room on the little couch for something so large, leaving the giant, fluffy, auburn thing draped over the furthest edge of the seat with nowhere else to go. A mischievous smile tugged at your lips as you reached behind him and grabbed hold of it. The movement surprised him just enough that you felt him shift beside you, but he didn’t stop you as you carefully pulled his tail around behind your back and across your lap. Then you drew your legs up onto the couch, tucking them comfortably beneath the pleasant weight of all that thick fur under the shared blanket until you were completely wrapped up in it. It was unbelievably soft.
You bit back a laugh the moment your fingers disappeared into the dense fluff, slowly combing through it with absentminded strokes. Almost immediately, you felt the tip begin to wag beneath your hand. He was obviously trying to keep the rest of it still, but the very end had a mind of its own, flicking happily every time your fingers worked through the thick fur. He never said a word. Instead, he simply kept one arm comfortably around your backside, holding you snugly against his side and into the broad warmth of his chest as he settled deeper into the couch. Little by little, the two of you relaxed together until you were practically sinking into the cushions and into each other, neither of you feeling any need to fill the silence. You simply watched the movie, comfortable enough now to let quiet affection speak for itself, and somewhere during those peaceful hours you realized you had finally given him something you’d been holding back. You had finally given him a little more room inside your guarded heart.
You could tell it made him happy without him saying a single word. You felt it in the way his fingertips drifted absentmindedly along your upper arm every now and then, tracing slow, affectionate strokes against your sleeve. You felt it every time he leaned down to press the gentlest kiss against the top of your head before settling comfortably beside you again. You felt it whenever he gave you the tiniest squeeze against his side for no reason other than the simple fact that you were there. Even his tail betrayed him, giving the smallest happy little twitches beneath the blanket every so often despite his obvious attempts to keep it still.
And undeniably…You liked seeing Valko happy. The realization settled quietly in your chest as the movie continued playing. Hell, maybe it was finally time to admit something else, too. He made you happy. He really did. He made you feel warm. He made you feel at peace. More than anything, he made you feel safe. That was the part that lingered with you most. Safety had never come easily to you, yet somewhere between his steady heartbeat beneath your cheek, the quiet weight of his arm around you, the warmth of his body, the softness of his tail wrapped over your lap, and the unspoken tenderness in every tiny touch he gave you, you realized you had stopped guarding yourself so fiercely around him.
In fact, Valko made you feel so safe that, sometime after finishing your chocolate milkshake, you simply drifted off without even realizing you’d fallen asleep. What finally stirred you from your sleep was the gentle shake of his hand against your shoulder, followed by the soft, familiar sound of his voice.
“Y/n, wakey-wakey…”
You snorted yourself awake, your eyes snapping open as you drew in a slow, groggy breath. Still dazed, you lifted your face from where it had been thoroughly smooshed against the firm warmth of his muscled chest, blinking up at him in sleepy confusion, “huh??”
He looked as though he was trying with every ounce of self-control not to laugh. The corners of his mouth kept threatening to curl higher as he looked down at you with unmistakable satisfaction, clearly finding the sight of you waking up on him far more adorable than he intended to let on, “movie’s over, sleepyhead.”
Oh, fuck. You had legitimately fallen asleep. The realization hit you all at once, and your eyes immediately dropped to his chest as the theater lights brightened around you. That was when your soul practically left your body. Right where your face had been resting was a small damp patch from where you’d drifted off, and lightly dusted across the dark fabric was what looked unmistakably like your foundation. Oh, how embarrassing.
“Oh fuck, I’m sorry,” you blurted, scrambling upright so quickly you nearly tangled yourself in the blanket. You grabbed a napkin from the little table and immediately started clumsily wiping at his shirt, desperately hoping you could clean it before he really noticed the mess you’d left behind, “uhhh, I might have drooled on you, Valko…God damn it, you have make up all over your shirt, my bad…”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a soft laugh, his amusement warm rather than teasing as he gently curled one of his hands over yours against his broad chest. His touch immediately stilled your frantic attempts to scrub the fabric clean, not because he was bothered, but because he genuinely didn’t want you worrying over something so small, “I’ll just wash it when we get back to my place. C’mon…”
His easy reassurance only made your cheeks burn hotter, though not because he’d made you feel embarrassed. If anything, it was the opposite. There wasn’t the slightest hint of annoyance in his expression, only patient affection as he smiled at you, completely unbothered by the little damp spot or the faint traces of makeup staining his shirt. You couldn’t help thinking that most people would’ve at least laughed at your expense, but Valko simply accepted it as though waking up with you asleep against his chest, and a little drool to prove how comfortable you’d been, was hardly an inconvenience at all.
Still holding your hand, he rose first before helping you to your feet with gentleness. Once you were standing, you quickly fixed your hair as best you could, trying to regain some semblance of composure after accidentally falling asleep on your date. By the time you finished smoothing it back into place, your embarrassment had softened into something quieter, and when he reached for your hand again, you slipped your fingers into his without hesitation.
Hand in hand, the two of you left the theater together and made your way back to his car, his warm grip never once leaving yours. Maybe you really had needed that nap. By the time the two of you were heading back, the haze of arousal that had plagued you through the first half of the movie had finally settled. Instead of feeling horny with absolutely no way to do anything about it in the middle of a movie theater, you felt refreshed, clear-headed, and pleasantly relaxed, the lingering warmth from your date replacing the frustration that had been clouding your thoughts earlier.
The drive back felt comfortably familiar. As Valko steered the Bronco toward the quieter edge of the city, the streets gradually emptied around you. The constant hum of traffic faded farther and farther into the distance until it was replaced by the peaceful stillness of the mountain road. Towering trees soon came into view again, their familiar silhouettes stretching high into the evening sky as the winding road climbed higher through the woods. Before long, the sprawling estate emerged between them, just as impressive as the first time you’d seen it. He guided the Bronco up the drive before pulling to a smooth stop outside the enormous home he called his own.
The two of you headed inside together, and the familiar warmth greeted you the moment the front door closed behind you. The house was immaculate, clean and peaceful, almost as though it had been quietly waiting for the two of you to return. The faint earthy scent of the surrounding woods lingered throughout the home, blending with the comforting warmth inside as Valko stepped behind you to help slide his oversized jacket from your shoulders. Once you’d slipped your arms free, he hung it neatly beside the front door before the two of you kicked off your boots, leaving them together by the entryway.
“Drinking anything?” He asked over his shoulder, making a small drinking gesture with one hand as he started farther into the house, already assuming you’d be following him.
“Hmm…” You hummed thoughtfully as you trailed after him, “you have any more red wine?”
“Always. I basically keep a stock for ya here for any time you wanna come over,” he glanced back at you with an easy smile before gesturing toward the hem of his shirt, “I’ll pour us some right now, lemme just take care of this real quick.”
As he spoke, his hands caught the bottom of his shirt and began pulling it up over his body while he disappeared down the hallway, his voice carrying back to you just before he vanished from sight.
“Make yourself comfy!”
You wandered off toward the kitchen, quietly relieved by the thought of a glass of wine to settle your nerves. Deep down, though, you knew alcohol wasn’t really what you were looking for. Something inside you had already accepted the truth you were both silently dancing around all evening. It was coming. It was happening tonight. Sex. For the first time. There would be no more playful teasing to distract yourselves. No more shoving him away the second the temptation became unbearable. Ever since last night, the two of you had wanted each other with an almost impossible intensity, and neither of you had done a particularly good job pretending otherwise. Now the movie was over, you were standing inside his home, and every quiet glance between the two of you seemed to acknowledge the same unspoken anticipation without either of you daring to say it aloud.
You leaned lightly against the kitchen counter as you waited, your mind doing little to calm itself despite your best efforts. The familiar warmth of the house, the earthy scent drifting in from the surrounding woods, and the comfortable silence only seemed to make you more aware of where you were.
When you heard his footsteps approaching, you turned toward the sound. Your thoughts came to a complete halt. After taking off the shirt with your makeup and drool on it, he’d never bothered putting on another one. He had simply…Walked back out topless. Fuck. It didn’t matter. It genuinely didn’t matter how many times you’d already seen him without a shirt, or how many times you’d practically been the one to rip it off him yourself in the heat of the moment. Somehow, seeing him like this still caught you completely off guard every single time.
Your eyes betrayed you immediately. Before you could stop yourself, they wandered over the broad expanse of his chest before drifting lower, tracing the defined planes of his abdomen until they reached the sharply carved lines disappearing beneath the waist of his jeans. His belt rested low across his hips, sitting just beneath the pronounced shape of his pelvis, and your imagination was thoroughly unhelpful as it lingered there for a second longer than it probably should have.
Then your attention climbed back up again just in time to catch him absentmindedly scratching the back of his head. The simple, unconscious movement flexed his arm, making the muscle in his bicep tighten beneath his skin with effortless strength. Jesus Christ. The sight of him standing there, ridiculously tall, broad-shouldered, powerfully built, and carrying all that size with such casual ease as he wandered toward you through his own kitchen like none of it was worth thinking about, sent an embarrassing flutter through your stomach. There was something deeply unfair about how naturally he wore that body, completely oblivious to the effect it had on you, while your own thoughts spiraled the longer you looked.
Realizing you were openly staring, you hurriedly tore your gaze away before he could catch you gawking and inevitably tease you for it. You fixed your attention somewhere far more innocent, desperately trying to compose yourself while he continued walking into the kitchen, closing the distance between you with the same easy confidence he’d carried all evening.
“Is it interesting?” He asked out of nowhere.
“Hm?” Your attention snapped back to him. You’d been doing your absolute best not to let your eyes wander over his bare, sun-kissed torso again, but the knowing smirk slowly spreading across his face told you he’d caught you anyway. Whatever confusion had flashed across your expression only seemed to amuse him more.
“The ceiling,” he said, giving a small nod upward.
Before you could even process what he meant, he stepped in close. His hands settled around your waist with confidence, the warmth of his palms sinking through your dress as he lifted you as though you weighed almost nothing. A tiny bounce later, you found yourself perched on the kitchen counter. He moved with you instead of away from you, stepping neatly between your knees until your legs naturally framed his hips. His hands slid back along the countertop on either side of you, his arms bracketing your body as he leaned in, quietly caging you there without a hint of force. There was simply nowhere else for your attention to go.
“…The ceiling?” You repeated, blinking up at him.
The question came out far quieter than you’d intended. He was so close. Close enough that every inch he leaned forward seemed to steal another steady breath from your lungs. Heat steadily gathered beneath your skin, blooming across your cheeks before sinking lower, pooling warm and heavy between your thighs as you found yourself hopelessly caught beneath his gaze. You couldn’t seem to stop staring at him any more than you could think of somewhere else to look.
“Yeah,” he answered simply.
His voice remained calm, almost casual, as though he hadn’t trapped you against the counter with nothing but his presence. He reached for your hand. Your fingers disappeared into his much larger ones before he gently guided your palm upward. Rather than placing it somewhere random, he rested it against his cheek, turning his face into your touch with an almost contented sigh. The smooth warmth of his skin met your palm as he leaned into it for a lingering moment before he began moving again, slowly drawing your hand downward along the sharp line of his jaw.
Your fingertips followed every contour. The angle of his jaw. The silk of his freshly shaved skin. The strong line of his neck. Then he tipped his head back ever so slightly, exposing more of his throat as he continued guiding your touch lower. You felt him swallow beneath your fingertips, the subtle movement of his throat brushing delicately against your hand, and the sensation alone sent your heart into a frantic rhythm inside your chest.
God. You were almost certain you were trembling. Could he feel it? Your eyes slowly lifted to his face, and the expression waiting for you answered the question before you could even ask it. Looking down at you with his head still tilted back, he wore the faintest trace of that infuriatingly satisfied smile, his golden eyes impossibly soft and impossibly knowing all at once.
He knew. The bastard was scenting you. As he continued to nuzzle into your palm, his warm skin lingered against yours just long enough for the realization to bloom in the back of your mind. He was covering your hand in his pheromones, surrounding you with his scent as naturally as breathing. It wasn’t rushed or aggressive. If anything, it felt instinctive, deeply affectionate in the quiet certainty with which he did it. Marking you. Claiming you in the silent, wordless way only he could. And the most dangerous part of all was that you weren’t pulling away. You were letting him. God…It felt far too good to resist.
“You were staring at it,” he continued.
His voice remained infuriatingly calm as he guided your hand lower, never once breaking eye contact. Your fingertips slipped from the smooth line of his throat to the strong curve of his collarbone before tracing farther down across the broad expanse of his chest. The firm muscle shifted subtly beneath your palm as he breathed, warm skin gliding against your fingertips while he deliberately encouraged you to feel every inch of the path he chose. Good Lord.
“No I wasn’t!” You denied, the protest tumbling out before your brain had even caught up with what he’d actually said.
“You weren’t?” He asked, feigning innocent confusion.
His brows lifted ever so slightly, and he gave the smallest tilt of his head, the picture of someone who simply couldn’t understand what you meant. It was an act, and you knew it was an act, but that somehow only made it worse. His eyes never left yours for a second, holding your gaze captive while his hand gently adjusted your own. He flattened your palm against him before slowly guiding it lower again, your touch gliding over the firm ridges where his rock-hard abs began beneath your fingertips. Every inch he moved your hand seemed painstakingly deliberate.
“So then…” He murmured, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse stutter, “were you staring at me, just now?”
Your breath caught. Your eyes widened just a fraction before you could stop yourself. It was barely a reaction at all, but it was enough. More than enough.nThe moment he saw it, satisfaction bloomed across his face in the form of a slow, knowing smile. There it was. Exactly what he’d been waiting for. He hadn’t been asking because he didn’t know the answer. He’d been patiently walking you straight into the admission yourself, giving you just enough room to stumble before quietly closing the trap around you.
The bastard. He hadn’t cornered you physically. He’d cornered you with your own reactions. Every flustered glance, every heartbeat, every instinctive hesitation had answered for you long before your mouth ever could, and now any chance you had of denying it had completely fallen apart. You’d walked straight into his clever little trap, and judging by the unmistakably pleased look in his eyes, he’d gotten exactly what he’d wanted. Confirmation. You couldn’t help the little laugh of defeat that slipped out. It was impossible not to. He had backed you into a corner, patiently dismantling every excuse you’d tried to hide behind until there was nothing left but your own flustered honesty. Still smiling, you shook your head at yourself before something he had said over text earlier that day suddenly resurfaced in your memory.
“Does your promise from our texts earlier still stand?”
“Hm?” He hummed, sounding genuinely curious as he gently turned your hand downward in his.
His fingers remained wrapped comfortably around yours while he continued guiding your palm lower over his body, your fingertips gliding across the firm ridges of his abs. The muscle beneath your touch felt impossibly hard, tightening and shifting ever so slightly with each steady breath he drew as he slowly, deliberately, worked your hand toward his navel. It was only then that you noticed him take a small step backward. Not to put distance between you. Just enough to give your hand somewhere else to go.
Your eyes instinctively followed the movement, and the sight waiting for you made your grin spread wider than the joke already forming in your head ever could. His cock was impossible to ignore. The growing bulge straining against his tight jeans was downright obnoxious, shamelessly obvious beneath the denim. It looked as though it had long since outgrown the space it had been trapped inside, pressing insistently against the fabric like a constricted snake desperate to break free of its confines. There wasn’t a chance in hell he could’ve hidden it even if he’d wanted to, and judging by the way he stood there so casually, he clearly wasn’t interested in trying.
Your fingertips drifted lower until they brushed lazily across the cool metal of his belt buckle. You toyed with it for a moment, deliberately letting your touch linger there before your eyes slowly climbed back up his body to meet his again, your grin growing positively wicked as the memory finally came together.
“That I can put you in your place if you act like an idiot tonight,” you giggled, reminding him.
“What—” he started, the word dying on his tongue as recognition suddenly spread across his face. His hand, which had been hovering absentmindedly near the very distraction you’d just been shamelessly staring at, paused in place before he laughed under his breath, “ohhh. Yeah. Go for it—”
Your hand moved before he even finished the sentence.
SLAP!
The crack of your palm colliding squarely with his chiseled cheek rang through the kitchen. You immediately burst into laughter, the sound escaping you before you could even think to hold it back. Part of it was pure shock at how satisfyingly loud the smack had been, but most of it came from the expression on his face afterward. His eyes went comically wide for a split second, as though he’d been abruptly reminded that, despite all his size and strength, you were still perfectly capable of smacking the absolute hell out of him whenever you felt he deserved it.
His hand flew to his cheek almost on instinct, rubbing the sting from the spot where you’d hit him as he blinked a couple of times, slowly recovering from the surprise. Then, just as quickly as it had disappeared, his composure returned. He looked back at you with an amused, pleasantly surprised laugh, still holding his cheek while you continued giggling at him, completely delighted that he’d walked straight into the punishment he’d given you permission to deliver.
“Whew!” He breathed, sounding almost exhilarated as he slowly lowered his hand from his cheek.
For a moment, he stared at his palm with open disbelief, as though he couldn’t quite process how much force you’d managed to put behind such a casual slap. Then, instead of looking offended, his grin somehow grew even wider. He let out another breathless laugh before looking back at you with unmistakable delight.
“Oh, man…” He chuckled, still sounding almost dazed, “is it bad if I say that really turns me on?”
Your jaw nearly hit the floor.
You stared at him in complete, horrified confusion before jutting your head toward him, shaking it like he had just admitted to being completely out of his fucking mind, “what, getting slapped??”
“Yeah,” he answered without a shred of hesitation, his sincerity somehow making the answer even more unbelievable, “I dunno, I just love intensity, and—”
Something about hearing that sent a sudden rush of adrenaline through you. Excitement followed so quickly behind it that you barely had time to recognize it before your body was already moving on instinct. Without a single conscious thought, one hand shot up to grab his chin, your fingers wrapping around his jaw as you firmly flicked his face back toward you. At the very same moment, your other hand was already drawing back toward the opposite side of his face, ready before he’d even finished his sentence.
SLAP!
The crack echoed through the kitchen even louder than the first one. His head snapped sideways with the force of it, and he immediately winced before giving his head that familiar little shake of his, as though he were genuinely trying to clear the stars from his vision. For a second, the poor thing honestly looked like you’d given him whiplash. Both of his cheeks were already blooming into matching red handprints, the unmistakable outlines of your palms standing out against his skin.
And yet…When he finally looked back at you, the expression on his face was anything but regret. His eyes had gone soft and blissfully unfocused, almost dreamy as he absentmindedly rubbed one of his sore cheeks with the heel of his hand. There wasn’t the slightest trace of irritation to be found. If anything, he looked almost intoxicated by it, smiling at you with the kind of lovestruck contentment that made it impossible not to laugh.
“Damn, woman, you hit like a truck…” He said in a pleasantly dazed voice, his smile only growing softer as he looked at you, “God, I think I’m in love…”
You let out a full cackle of laughter, the sound bright and completely unrestrained as heat rushed straight back into your face. The giant dope had somehow managed to fluster you all over again.
Groaning through your laughter, you buried your burning face behind both of your hands, shaking your head at him in utter disbelief, “Valko, you’re a fucking idiot sometimes!”
“Oh, whatever!” He shot back through a laugh of his own.
Still grinning from ear to ear, he gently caught your wrists and pulled your hands away from your face, refusing to let you hide from him. His smile softened the moment he could see you again, his golden eyes lingering on your warm cheeks as though the sight alone was enough to make his heart swell. Without a word, he guided your arms up until they naturally settled around the back of his neck, encouraging you to hold onto him while his own hands found your hips again. His touch was warm and steady, drawing himself closer until there were only inches separating the two of you. You could feel the heat radiating from his bare chest, the quiet rise and fall of his breathing, and the way his eyes searched yours before drifting briefly to your lips.
“Besides,” he murmured, smiling so warmly it almost made your chest ache, “I’m your idiot.”
The words settled over you with surprising tenderness. For all the teasing, all the flirting, and all the shameless confidence he loved to parade around with, there was something so utterly sincere about the way he said it that your heart softened before you could stop it. A quiet laugh of defeat escaped you as you looked up at him, unable to find a single reason to argue anymore.
“Yeah,” you admitted softly, “you are.”
The smile that spread across his face was almost impossibly fond. He answered you by closing the last little bit of distance between you and kissing you. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t needy. It was simply warm. His lips lingered against yours with quiet affection, savoring the moment as his hands rested comfortably on your hips, holding you close without ever asking for more than what you were already giving him. The kiss left you smiling before it had even ended, and when your lips finally parted, they remained only a breath apart.
“Wanna drink together and pretend I’m totally calm right now?” You whispered against his lips, finally daring to lift your eyes and meet his gaze.
“Yeah,” he answered immediately, his arms instinctively pulling you a little closer into the safety of his embrace. His forehead almost brushed yours as the corners of his mouth lifted again, “wanna yap with me while I cook and pretend I’m smooth and charming?”
You laughed softly against his lips, unable to help yourself. The sound melted into another smile as your fingers slipped into his short hair, your nails affectionately scratching against his scalp before working through the soft auburn strands. You fluffed the thick hair behind his wolf ears with slow, absentminded affection, and the reaction was immediate. His eyelids relaxed, his shoulders loosened, and he leaned ever so slightly into your touch, looking completely content to let you spoil him for as long as you’d keep your fingers there.
“You’re very charming, Val,” you confessed.
“You really think so?” He asked, punctuating the question with a gentle peck against your lips.
“Yes,” you murmured before kissing him back. This time, you didn’t let him pull away. Your lips remained against his as you lightly held him there, your words barely more than a smile breathed into the kiss, “you’re very charming.”
He looked so genuinely happy as he kissed you back. The corners of his mouth curled against yours before his arms tightened around you, giving your hips the gentlest squeeze as he drew you fully into his embrace. It wasn’t possessive. It was simply him. Every time he held you, there was an unmistakable tenderness behind it, as though he couldn’t quite believe you were letting him stay this close. The warmth of his bare chest rested against you, his heartbeat steady as your arms remained looped comfortably around his neck.
“I’m not as calm as I’d like to admit,” you confessed quietly once your lips finally parted. The vulnerability in your own voice surprised you, but you didn’t hide from it this time. You let him see it, “…I get a little nervous and then the walls go shooting up when I don’t really want them to.”
“It’s okay,” his answer came without hesitation.
One of his hands slowly drifted lower until it rested against the small of your back, his fingertips affectionately scratching there in slow, soothing little strokes that sent a pleasant shiver through you. There wasn’t an ounce of judgment in his expression as he looked at you. Only patience.
“I know,” he said gently, “I can smell it when you’re nervous.”
The reminder made your cheeks warm, but before embarrassment could settle in, he continued.
“But we go at your pace. Whatever makes you comfortable,” his thumb rubbed absentmindedly against your back as he spoke, every touch calm and reassuring, “and if I ever overstep, you have unlimited bitch slap passes.”
The sincerity of the promise lingered between you for only a heartbeat before it was completely ruined by the hilarious absurdity of the last sentence.
You laughed, “okay. Deal.”
“Besides…” His hand left your back and came up to your face instead. With gentleness, he swept a loose strand of hair back behind your ear before his fingertips traced slowly down the side of your neck. The touch was featherlight, lingering just enough to make your pulse flutter beneath his hand before he finally cupped your neck with quiet affection, his thumb resting comfortably beneath your jaw, “I think you’re doing great. Don’t be so hard on yourself all the time. You’re a champ. Seriously…I’m proud of you.”
You couldn’t help smiling. Not the flustered, embarrassed smiles he’d been pulling from you all evening. A real one. Warm. Completely genuine, “…Thanks.”
The way his face softened when he saw that smile made your chest ache in the nicest way. He leaned down and kissed you again, slow and affectionate, lingering just long enough to make you melt into him before finally pulling away. Then, in the span of a single second, the romantic mood completely evaporated.
The giant dork straightened up, took one enthusiastic step backward, and proudly threw both hands into the air toward you, “yeah, atta girl! High five!”
You stared at him for half a second before a helpless laugh burst out of you, “oh, dear God…”
You felt yourself growing flustered all over again, albeit for an entirely different reason this time. Shaking your head at the impossibly earnest goof standing in front of you, you couldn’t stop smiling as you lifted your own hands to meet his.
“Woo!” He enthusiastically slapped both of your palms in a hearty high five, looking every bit as pleased with himself afterward as though he’d just celebrated the greatest victory of the night.
With that, Valko turned his attention to the bottle of wine waiting on the counter. He worked the cork free with ease, the soft pop filling the quiet kitchen before he poured a generous glass for you and another for himself. You accepted yours with a smile, the two of you gently clinking the rims together in a quiet toast before taking your first sip. The wine was smooth, rich, and pleasantly warm as it settled in your stomach.
You stayed sitting up on the kitchen counter to keep him company while he cooked, watching as he wandered comfortably around his own kitchen with the kind of effortless familiarity that only came from living there for years. After taking another sip of his wine, he reached over and turned on some music to fill the silence. It made you smile. Valko always seemed to need some sort of stimulation, something to occupy himself even when he was perfectly content. Music, conversation, touching you, cooking, he never seemed happy sitting in complete silence when there was life to be enjoyed instead.
The soft music drifted through the house as he began gathering everything he needed. Ingredients appeared one after another across the opposite side of the counter, followed by a cutting board, a chef’s knife, and the rest of the tools he’d need. It didn’t take you long to figure out what he had planned. Steak. Sautéed vegetables. Something hearty. Something that wouldn’t take very long to make. Something packed with protein and energy. Typical Valko.
You smiled to yourself as you took another sip of your wine, watching him move easily from one task to the next while he occasionally lifted his own glass for another drink. Little by little, the alcohol began doing exactly what you’d hoped it would. The nervous knot that had stubbornly lingered in your chest ever since leaving the theater slowly unraveled, the warmth of the wine spreading through your body until your thoughts no longer felt quite so loud. By the time the steaks hit the hot pan with a satisfying hiss, your shoulders had relaxed, and you found yourself simply enjoying being there with him.
The kitchen quickly filled with the mouthwatering aroma of sizzling butter, rosemary, and searing steak. You watched as Valko tilted the pan with one hand, the muscles of his forearm tightening beneath his skin while the other hand worked a spoon through the foaming butter before repeatedly basting it over the steaks. Each slow pass coated the meat in the fragrant mixture, rosemary and butter crackling softly as they met the heat.
He looked completely at home. Completely absorbed. You found yourself slowly swirling the last of your wine around your glass as you melted into the pleasant buzz settling over you. For a few quiet moments, you simply watched him without saying anything, content to let the music play while he lost himself in the familiar rhythm of cooking. He was so focused on what he was doing that he remained blissfully unaware of the fact that your attention had gradually shifted away from the food altogether.
You were staring at him. Again. Your eyes wandered shamelessly over his broad back before tracing the powerful line of his shoulders. Every small movement drew your attention somewhere new. The flex of his arms as he worked. The subtle shift of muscle beneath his skin whenever he reached for another ingredient. The easy strength in every absentminded motion. The warm kitchen light spilled across his bare torso, catching along the defined planes of his chest, his shoulders, and the firm ridges of his abdomen every time he moved, and you couldn’t seem to make yourself look away.
Finishing the last sip of your wine, you tipped the glass back and emptied it completely. The pleasant warmth blooming through your body made you feel just a little braver. Sliding down from the counter, you set your empty glass aside before casually wandering over toward the bottle of steak sauce sitting beside him. You reached for it as though that had been your destination all along, though your attention betrayed you almost immediately. Your eyes drifted from the bottle…To him…Then slowly over his bare torso once again as he stood only a step away, entirely unaware of the hungry look lingering on your face.
You were hungry. Just…Not nearly as hungry for the food as you were for him. The longer you watched the effortless roll of muscle beneath his skin with every unconscious movement, the harder it became to remember that dinner was what the two of you were supposed to be thinking about.
“…Do you like this sauce?” You asked, gesturing toward the bottle as you wandered over to it.
He glanced at it before giving an easy shrug, “I think it’s good. Try it.”
You watched as he pulled open one of the kitchen drawers for you. Taking the silent invitation, you slipped out a fork and knife while he turned away to tend to dinner, carrying the vegetables over before scattering them into the waiting hot pan. They hissed the instant they met the heat, filling the kitchen with another wave of savory aroma as he gave them a quick toss and then looked back toward you.
By then, you’d already cut yourself a small piece of steak. Balancing it carefully on your fork, you lifted it toward your mouth before remembering how hot it had to be. You blew gently across it while watching him out of the corner of your eye, the soft music continuing to drift through the kitchen as he divided his attention between the vegetables and you. He reached for the steak sauce and flipped the cap open, ready to pour some over the plate. Before he could, you quietly reached over and took the bottle from his hand.
“I got it,” you said, your voice calm with the pleasant buzz of the wine.
His brows lifted ever so slightly, but he didn’t protest. Instead, he let you gently nudge his arm aside until he had turned just enough to face you, standing patiently as though he was genuinely curious to see what, exactly, was going through your head. You were careful. Or…At least, as careful as you could be after the wine. Your movements carried the slightest bit of clumsy hesitation as you tipped the bottle, watching the thick steak sauce slowly ribbon out onto the warm skin of his chest instead of the plate he’d intended. It painted a dark streak along the side of his broad chest before gravity took over, the glossy line slipping lower until it dripped past his brown nipple.
He froze. His eyes widened just a fraction. Not in alarm. In complete, fascinated surprise. He didn’t move an inch. He simply stayed exactly where he was, allowing you to step fully into his space after setting the bottle back on the counter. The kitchen suddenly felt much smaller with so little distance between you. Warmth radiated from his bare body, close enough that you could feel it as you raised your fork.
The bite of steak hovered between the two of you for only a moment before you lowered it against his chest instead. Starting near the bottom of the glossy streak, you slowly dragged the piece upward, letting it gather the sauce onto the meat as it traveled across the firm muscle beneath. By the time the fork reached the top, most of the sauce had disappeared onto the steak, leaving only a thin sheen glistening across his skin where it had been.
Then, as though you hadn’t just calmly eaten steak sauce off his bare chest, you slipped the bite into your mouth. You chewed thoughtfully. The steak was perfectly cooked. The sauce…Actually was pretty good. Your eyes never left him. Neither did his. You noticed the little bit of sauce your fork hadn’t caught beginning to move again, slowly slipping along the sculpted curve of his chest before lazily trailing downward toward the firm lines where his abdomen began. It caught the warm kitchen light as it traveled, leaving a glossy path against his skin.
Valko still hadn’t said a word. He looked caught somewhere between stunned disbelief and complete captivation, his golden eyes fixed entirely on you. It was as though he couldn’t quite decide whether he should laugh, kiss you, or simply stand there and let you keep doing whatever had possessed you to feed yourself from his chest in the first place. Judging by the way he remained perfectly still, utterly content to let you invade his space however you pleased, it seemed he was leaning toward the last option.
He glanced down at the remaining streak glistening across his chest before looking back at you, taking a small step closer until he was standing comfortably within your space again, pointing at it, “…You gonna get this, too?”
You finished chewing the juicy bite of steak, swallowed, then slowly licked the lingering sauce from your lips before setting the fork down on the counter with an innocent little smile, “where are my manners?”
Before he could answer, you reached for him. Your fingers slipped easily into the front belt loops of his jeans, hooking there as you tugged him closer until the small gap between your bodies disappeared. He came willingly, his hips stopping just in front of yours as you looked up at him, unable to quite suppress the smile threatening at the corners of your mouth. He was adorable. The poor fool was blushing. And…He was visibly getting hard all over again. The outline beneath his jeans had already begun growing more pronounced from nothing more than the attention you were giving him, and the realization sent another warm flutter through your stomach. Your eyes lingered on him for only a second before drifting lower, following the glossy trail you’d left behind.
Slowly, deliberately, you rolled your tongue out before bending toward him. The smear of steak sauce ended along the defined ridge where his abs began, leaving a thin, glistening trail across his warm skin. You leaned in until your lips hovered just above him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. Then your tongue met his skin. Oh…Sweet God. The flat of your tongue traced slowly upward through the lingering sauce, following the line you’d made earlier. His skin was warm beneath the slow glide of your mouth, impossibly smooth from where he’d shaved, and the hard wall of muscle beneath it tightened the instant you touched him. You felt his stomach twitch beneath your tongue, every firm contour flexing instinctively in response as you tasted the remaining sauce from his chest.
Your own heart hammered wildly against your ribs. So did his. You could hear it. Feel it. Standing this close, there was no mistaking the quickened rhythm pounding inside his chest. His hands gradually found your forearms, his fingers curling around them with remarkable restraint. Part of him seemed to be grounding himself, holding on simply to keep himself together. The other part…The other part was quietly drawing you closer, as though no amount of your attention could ever be enough.
“Oh, you fucking tease—ouch! Easy!”
A helpless giggle spilled from your lips. Unable to resist, you gave the firm meat of his muscled chest a playful bite instead, your teeth sinking in just enough to leave the unmistakable circle of their imprint around his nipple before you soothed it with a slow, lingering lick. You felt the tiny ridges left behind by your own bite glide against your tongue, and the sensation pulled a visible shudder through him from shoulders to hips. He didn’t step away. If anything, he leaned into you.
By the time you’d finished cleaning the last of the sauce from his skin, you slowly leaned back just enough to admire your handiwork. The faint red outline of your teeth stood out against the warmth of his chest, while a delicate sheen of your saliva caught the glow of the kitchen lights as it glimmered across the marked skin. Satisfied, you wiped the corners of your mouth with your thumb, your gaze lingering on him for another quiet moment as you admired the effect you’d left behind.
“Uh, Val?” You said, pointing somewhere over his shoulder just as he caught your wrist, clearly intending to steal a kiss before either of you thought about dinner again.
“Huh—” He turned instinctively to look where you were pointing. The second his eyes landed on the pan, his entire expression changed, “shit—shit—shit…”
He abandoned whatever romantic intentions he’d had and lunged back toward the stove, immediately reaching for the pan before the vegetables had a chance to suffer from your mutual inability to keep your hands off each other. You couldn’t help laughing. The poor dummy practically scrambled to recover, hurriedly tilting the pan to give the vegetables another quick toss. Watching someone so impossibly composed in a boardroom completely fall apart over forgetting dinner because he’d gotten distracted by you was…Ridiculously endearing.
You found yourself wandering closer again. Unable to resist, you reached up behind him, your fingertips settling lightly against the nape of his neck. His skin was pleasantly warm beneath your touch from the heat of the stove, and you slowly dragged a single finger down the center of his back. It traced the gentle slope of his spine between the thick roll of his traps, feeling the powerful muscles shift beneath his skin as he continued cooking. Oh…Yum. That bastard was divine. Curse him. Bless him.
He was devastating enough when he was polished, confident, but somehow he became even more irresistible like this. Flustered. A little stupid. A little clumsy. Comfortably tipsy on wine and hopelessly distracted by you. There was something dangerously charming about watching such a massive man lose every ounce of composure simply because the woman he wanted was standing behind him dragging a finger down his bare back.
His tail certainly wasn’t helping. The enormous fluffy thing swayed happily between the two of you with absolutely no concern for personal space, wagging broad, contented arcs that repeatedly brushed against your legs. Every slow swoosh swept across you from what felt like every possible angle, happily betraying just how delighted he was despite his best attempts to focus on dinner.
“It’s good sauce,” you murmured, your fingertip continuing its slow descent until it teased along the small of his back, “but I think I like the big, juicy steak better…”
“Picked the cuts myself, straight from the butcher,” he replied proudly over his shoulder without missing a beat, carefully tossing the veggies as they continued sizzling in the pan.
You stared at him for half a second. Then another. The realization hit you all at once. Oh, that idiot. Your joke had flown so spectacularly far over his head that it may as well have left the atmosphere.
“Oh, Valko…” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as you slowly shook your head.
“What I do?!” He asked immediately, whipping his head around to look down at you with genuine concern, his expression so earnestly bewildered that it only made the whole thing worse.
“Nothing,” you answered with a fond smile.
You closed the small distance between the two of you until you were standing right against him, your arms slipping comfortably around his waist. The moment they settled there, you let yourself lean into him completely, resting the side of your face against the broad wall of warm muscle before you. His bare backside was still pleasantly warm from standing around the stove, and you couldn’t help melting into the comfort of him. Everything about his size felt grounding. His broad frame pressed against you so naturally that it almost seemed as though you had been made to fit there, tucked safely against him while the steady rise and fall of his breathing brushed softly against your cheek. Breathing out a quiet sigh, you let yourself simply enjoy holding him for a moment.
“Nothing,” you repeated softly, “you’re perfect just the way you are.”
Your arms gave him the gentlest squeeze.
“Don’t ever change.”
The words settled over him with a tenderness that instantly softened his entire expression. You felt him relax beneath your embrace, the corners of his mouth lifting into that warm, quietly affectionate smile you’d grown so hopelessly fond of. Without saying anything else, he curled a large hand over yours for a brief moment, savoring the closeness before reluctantly returning his attention to the food still waiting on the stove.
Eventually, the two of you settled together at the dining table, carrying your freshly made steaks and sautéed vegetables over along with your freshly refilled glasses of wine. The music continued drifting softly through the house, filling the comfortable silence between bursts of easy conversation as the two of you laughed, teased each other, and picked at dinner. It felt strangely domestic in the sweetest way, sharing a meal across the table from him in his beautiful home while the warmth from the kitchen still lingered around you both.
The food was delicious. The steak was perfectly cooked, juicy and tender beneath the buttery rosemary that coated every bite, and the vegetables were just as good. Even so…You couldn’t ignore the feeling quietly growing inside you. You were still hungry. Just…Not for the food. Your gaze kept wandering back to him between bites, catching the way the warm lighting played across his strong features, the relaxed ease in his posture, and the broad shoulders that looked almost unfairly inviting even now. Every casual smile he sent your way, every brush of his fingers around his wine glass, every absentminded movement only reminded you that dinner wasn’t really what either of you had been anticipating all evening.
You found yourself eating a little more slowly, keeping your portion light without consciously deciding to. It didn’t escape your notice that Valko seemed to be doing exactly the same thing. He wasn’t lingering over seconds or piling more food onto his plate as usual. He was eating just enough, almost as though some quiet understanding had already passed between the two of you without either of you needing to acknowledge it aloud. The anticipation lingered there at the table, woven between your conversation and lingering glances, growing heavier with every passing minute until it became almost impossible to ignore. Valko was the first to finally break the silence surrounding it.
“Well…” He swallowed the last bite of his food before nudging his plate forward just a little. Dabbing the napkin across his lips, he looked up at you with a warm, almost expectant smile that carried just the faintest hint of nervous excitement beneath it, “I’m officially tapped out. You?”
“Same,” you agreed, setting your utensils down on the plate in front of you. A satisfied little smile lingered on your lips as you leaned back in your chair, “that was really yummy…But I’m not trying to engorge myself here.”
“Neither am I,” he replied with a small shake of his head.
His attention lingered on you for a moment after that. There was a thoughtful look in his eyes, one that seemed to weigh his next words with deliberate care before he finally spoke, “…You planning to spend the night, or wait off the buzz?”
It was such a Valko question. On the surface, it was practical. You’d both had wine, and he’d never once encouraged you to drive after drinking. But beneath that…You both knew what he was really asking. He wasn’t fishing for the answer he wanted. He was checking in. Giving you one more opportunity to change your mind. One more easy exit if, somewhere between the movie, the teasing, dinner, and now, you’d decided you weren’t ready after all. He wouldn’t have been disappointed. Maybe a little blue-balled, certainly, but never disappointed. He’d made that much abundantly clear all evening. Your comfort came first. It always would.
You met his eyes and answered without hesitation, “I’d like to spend the night.”
The tension in his shoulders softened almost imperceptibly. He simply nodded. There was no triumphant grin. No cocky remark. Just quiet acceptance. A comfortable silence settled between you as the two of you rose from your chairs together. Plates and utensils were gathered almost absentmindedly, neither of you paying much attention to the dishes anymore. Your thoughts had already wandered somewhere else entirely.
“You know…” You began softly.
The sound of your voice made him pause. He looked back at you over his shoulder, giving you his full attention as though nothing else in the room mattered.
“You don’t—…” You smiled to yourself, searching for the words before quietly continuing, “have, to sleep on the couch every time I get a little tipsy and spend the night here.”
A small smile spread across his face. It wasn’t smug. If anything, it was almost shy.
“Yeah, well…” He rubbed the back of his neck for a moment before looking at you again, “only if it’s okay with you.”
Your heart squeezed. Of course that was his answer.bHe’d stayed on the couch every single time because he’d never wanted you to wake up wondering whether he’d assumed something you hadn’t offered. Even now, after everything that had happened between you over the last two days, after the longing, the flirting, the touches, the kisses, and every promise hanging quietly between you, he still wanted your permission before taking even that small step.
Then his eyes wandered. You caught it immediately. His gaze drifted slowly over you before he seemed able to stop himself, lingering for just a second too long as though he couldn’t help drinking you in. The warm light reflected softly in his golden eyes while they traced your figure with quiet admiration before he caught himself. A tiny shake of his head followed, almost like he was physically pulling his thoughts back under control, and he finally lifted his gaze to meet yours again while absentmindedly pushing his chair back beneath the table with the side of his foot.
The restraint on his face was almost painfully obvious now. His instincts. His wants. Every urge he’d been so carefully keeping in check all evening seemed to be hitting him all at once, and despite the composure he fought so hard to maintain, you could see it written all over him. Dear God.
“It’s fine with me if we both share the bed together,” you said, smiling warmly at him.
You watched the words settle over him before you took one small step closer.
“And…” Your smile turned just a little more knowing, “…The night.”
Oh, that one definitely hadn’t gone over his head. You caught it in the smallest hesitation. Barely a heartbeat passed before he paused, lifting his eyes from his plate to look at you, and in that fleeting glance you watched your implication land exactly as you’d intended. Neither of you said anything about it. Instead, you quietly gathered the dishes together, carrying plates and glasses into the kitchen while the comfortable silence between you grew steadily heavier. Leftovers disappeared into storage containers one after another before finding their place in the refrigerator, and the used dishes gradually filled the sink until dinner had been neatly packed away. The entire routine felt almost strangely domestic, yet beneath every casual movement lingered the same quiet awareness neither of you seemed capable of escaping.
“…I might be up for a while,” he said from behind you.
You turned just enough to watch him wander past, reaching for the bottle of wine again before refilling his empty glass.
“Since it’s the weekend, and neither of us have work tomorrow, I’m not exactly sleepy,” the corner of his mouth twitched into an easy smile, “or tired. I wanna stay up.”
A soft laugh escaped you, “oh, yeah?”
You wandered toward him at an unhurried pace, your fingertips absentmindedly brushing over the side of your neck in a slow, thoughtful rub. You knew exactly what lingered there. Pheromones, even stronger now than before. His heightened senses had made that abundantly clear, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help wondering if the scent of your skin and arousal alone was already making his restraint just a little harder to hold onto.
“And…” You asked innocently, despite knowing perfectly well what game you were playing, “do what, wolf boy?”
A quiet chuckle rumbled out of him as he continued pouring the wine. He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he shot you a sidelong glance that caught you completely red-handed, the faintest knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His jaw flexed once beneath his skin before settling again, the subtle tension impossible to miss.
“Are you gonna play fetch with me?” You teased as you stepped comfortably into his space, “howl at the moon?”
Your fingertip found the curve of his broad bicep. You traced it slowly downward, gliding over the hard muscle of his arm while he finished pouring his wine. Even through so simple a touch, you could feel the effortless strength beneath his skin, the muscle shifting almost imperceptibly beneath your finger as he moved.
Then, before you could second-guess yourself, your hand lifted higher. Your fingertips brushed your pheromones lightly across the tip of his crooked nose. They drifted slowly over his lips. Then down the line of his jaw to his square chin. The reaction was immediate. It rippled through him so subtly that someone else might have missed it entirely, but you were standing close enough to feel it. His breathing caught for the briefest instant. His shoulders stiffened before easing again. His eyes followed your hand almost unconsciously, his attention drawn to your touch with an instinctive pull that looked as though it surprised even him.
For one suspended moment, it was almost as though his body had made the decision before his mind had caught up. Then he stopped himself. With a rough shake of his head, he tore his attention away from your hand as though physically snapping himself back to reality. His fingers immediately reached for his wine glass instead, wrapping around it with perhaps a touch more purpose than strictly necessary, grounding himself in the simple motion while he quietly wrestled his composure back into place.
“Is the big bad wolf gonna show me any neat tricks in bed?” You asked softly.
You leaned gently against him as you spoke, closing the last little bit of space between your bodies while he stubbornly kept his gaze turned away from yours. From this close, you caught something that made you falter. Moonlight spilled through the window above the sink, washing over the sharp lines of his profile in cool silver. It skimmed across his prominent brow bone, caught on the curve of his tense jaw, and settled in his eyes.
For just a heartbeat…You could have sworn they glowed under the moon light. Your breath hitched. The gold of his irises seemed to brighten with a strange, molten intensity that didn’t look like an ordinary reflection. It was so vivid, so startlingly alive, that it almost appeared to shine from somewhere deep inside him instead of simply catching the light. Then, just as quickly, you noticed the moon hanging outside the kitchen window. It was full. Your heart skipped.
…Wait. Had his eyes actually glowed? Or had the moon simply hit them at the perfect angle? The wine had left a pleasant warmth humming beneath your skin, just enough to make you question your own senses. Maybe you were imagining it. Maybe it was nothing more than silver moonlight reflected in unusually golden eyes. But the thought refused to settle. After everything he’d told you, about his heightened senses, his werewolf nature, the instincts he fought so carefully to keep under control, you couldn’t quite convince yourself you’d imagined it, either. Perhaps it was something tied to his biology.
You found yourself staring a second longer than you meant to, searching for another glimpse. Before you could decide what you’d really seen, Valko squeezed his eyes shut and gave his head another rough shake, as though physically forcing himself back into line. When he opened them again, he kept them turned stubbornly away from you, choosing the window, the sink, anywhere but your face.
His jaw flexed hard enough for the muscle to jump beneath his skin. His fingers tightened around the stem of his wine glass. The muscles in his forearm stood out as he unconsciously gripped it a little too firmly. You could practically watch the battle unfolding inside him. Every teasing touch you’d stolen, every brush of your fingertips across his skin, every trace of your scent lingering around the sensitive curve of your neck seemed to chip away at his restraint a little more. His body was reacting faster than his disciplined mind could suppress it, his instincts surfacing one after another despite every effort to keep them leashed. The more he avoided looking at you, the more obvious it became that meeting your eyes might be the one thing capable of snapping whatever fragile control he still had. A delicious, dangerous chill rippled down your spine.
“…Or…” You murmured, your voice dropping into something softer as you leaned just a little closer, still unable to shake the question of whether you’d truly seen what you thought you had beneath the light of the full moon, “is he gonna wanna play with me under the covers all night?”
“…Play with you?” He finally echoed, a quiet smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he lifted his wine glass and took a long swallow, lingering on it just a little longer than he had with any of his previous drinks.
At first, it almost looked as though he was trying to settle his own nerves after hearing the unmistakable suggestiveness in your invitation, but when he lowered the glass and looked at you from the corner of his eyes instead of directly meeting your gaze, something in that expression made you question whether nerves were really what you were seeing.
“…You know what the big bad wolf did to Little Red Riding Hood, don’t you?” He asked lowly, his tone almost surprising you from the shift.
Heat unfurled low in your belly at the sound of his voice, made even worse by that sidelong glance that seemed carefully measured, as though looking at you head-on would only make whatever was happening inside him that much harder to control. You found yourself studying him again, replaying everything you’d watched unfold throughout the evening, and for the briefest moment you wondered if you’d misunderstood him entirely.
Maybe he hadn’t been trying to smooth over nervousness with his last drink. Maybe he had been trying to cling to his composure. Or maybe…Maybe he’d been doing the opposite. Maybe that last swallow of wine had been an attempt to free the part of himself he’d spent the entire night keeping on a painfully short leash, loosening his grip on the restraint he’d maintained with such remarkable discipline. The thought settled deeper the more you considered it, because you’d watched him fight himself all evening. Every time his attention drifted toward you and lingered just a heartbeat too long before he caught himself. Every time he seemed to zone out while looking at you, only to give his head that familiar little shake and drag himself back to the present. It hadn’t looked like absentmindedness anymore. It looked like someone engaged in a constant, exhausting battle between instinct and self-control.
The realization only grew heavier when you remembered what he had confessed to you what seemed like ages ago, now. You were his destined mate, fated by biology and a soul tie neither of you could break or escape from. Those weren’t love bombing words or some overdramatic declaration of affection; they carried a weight rooted somewhere deep inside his very nature. And now, only one night after you’d finally let him have a taste of you, a literal taste that had left the poor werewolf visibly unraveling beneath instincts you couldn’t even begin to comprehend, you were standing in his kitchen inviting him to share the bed for the first time. You’d spent the entire evening wrapped around him, touching him whenever you pleased, letting your scent linger beneath his nose, brushing your fingers over his skin, teasing him without mercy, and then telling him, as plainly as you knew how, that you wanted him beside you for the night. You couldn’t begin to imagine what that must have felt like through the lens of his biology, or how overwhelming those instincts had to be when every one of his heightened senses recognized you as the person they had been painfully yearning for.
The more you thought about it, the more another possibility quietly settled into place. Maybe your walls weren’t the only ones coming down tonight. Valko had been unfailingly careful with you from the moment you’d met, almost painstakingly aware of your boundaries, never assuming, never rushing, never taking more than you willingly offered. Every step between the two of you had been taken together because he’d made certain you wanted it just as much as he did. Perhaps this was what he’d been waiting for all along; not permission to desire you, because that had never been in question, but reassurance that you were ready for him to stop holding every instinct at arm’s length. Maybe, little by little, he was finally allowing himself to lower those walls with you too, trusting both you and himself enough to let the man and the werewolf stop pulling in opposite directions.
“…What did the big bad wolf do?” You asked, your voice softer now, your curiosity impossible to hide as you looked up at him. More than intrigued, you found yourself wanting to see what happened when he finally stopped fighting every natural instinct inside him, welcoming not just the man you’d been irresistibly falling for, but the beast he had worked so hard to keep hidden.
He drew in a slow breath. For the briefest moment, everything about him went still. You watched something shift behind his eyes as his gaze drifted past you toward the kitchen window again, lingering on the full moon hanging high outside. It wasn’t a long look, nor a dramatic one, but it felt strangely personal, as though he were silently coming to terms with something inside himself. You couldn’t possibly know what thought crossed his mind in that instant, but when his attention returned to you, it wasn’t with the same careful restraint he’d been carrying all evening.
He smirked. The expression was subtle, but it transformed him. The warm, adorably flustered himbo who had forgotten dinner because you’d poured sauce down his chest seemed to melt away in an instant, replaced by something unmistakably predatory. His golden eyes settled on you with an intensity that rooted you to the spot, and your heart lurched hard against your ribs as you found yourself caught beneath a gaze that no longer looked merely affectionate. It was focused. Hungry. The kind of look that made you feel less like someone standing in front of him and more like the only thing in the room worth chasing. Worth catching. Worth devouring.
The contrast stole your breath. It was astonishing how quickly he could change. One moment he had been sweet, endlessly patient, restrained despite all your teasing. The next, after you’d spent the evening rubbing your scent over his face, pressing yourself against him, tempting every instinct he’d fought so hard to suppress, there was something undeniably wilder shining through the cracks in that composure. Not cruel. Not frightening. Just raw, primal, and breathtakingly honest in a way that made your pulse race faster with every passing second.
You barely had time to process the look before he moved. He caught you before you could even think to react, his hands finding you with unrestrained desire as he pulled you against him. In one smooth motion he dropped into half a squat and lifted you clean off the floor as though you weighed almost nothing, hoisting you into his arms before your mind had a chance to catch up with what your body was already doing. He gave you a small bounce to settle you comfortably against his chest, your thighs instinctively wrapping around his waist while your arms found their place around his neck, clinging to him as naturally as breathing.
A helpless laugh bubbled somewhere inside you. Oh, boy. Ohhh, boy. The thought arrived with equal parts excitement and surrender, settling warmly in your chest as you looked at him. You weren’t leaving that bed tonight, were you?
“He ate her,” he said, putting unmistakable emphasis on the word as his eyes widened just enough to drive the point home.
The movement drew your attention to the sharp gleam of his fangs catching the dim kitchen light, and another thrill raced through you. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation left in him now. He carried you from the kitchen with steady, purposeful strides, moving through the house with the quiet certainty of someone who had already made up his mind. Nothing about the way he held you suggested he intended to stop until he reached exactly where he wanted to be.
The walk to the bedroom disappeared into a haze almost immediately. Somewhere between the kitchen and the hallway, your mouths found each other again, and every ounce of patience you’d both shown all evening seemed to dissolve beneath the force of finally giving in. Kisses blurred together with every step he took, unhurried only by the fact that neither of you seemed capable of staying apart for more than a heartbeat. You kept finding his mouth again, pulling him back to you whenever he tried to steal another breath, your lips meeting in messy, desperate kisses that left no room for the careful restraint either of you had been clinging to before. You’d missed him more than you’d realized. Missed the shameless sweep of his tongue, the delicious scrape of his fangs catching your bottom lip just enough to make your breath hitch, and the way every kiss from him seemed to consume your entire world until nothing existed beyond the warmth of his mouth and the strength of the arms carrying you.
By the time he reached the bedroom, you felt dizzy. Not from the wine. From Valko. The hallway had become a blur somewhere behind you, your attention consumed entirely by him until the sudden feeling of weightlessness caught you by surprise. With ease, he tossed you gently onto the towering mattress, and your back landed against it with a soft, springy bounce that pulled a delighted gasp from your lips before you dissolved into helpless giggles. Thick, impossibly fluffy blankets rose around you at once, cradling your body in warmth as you looked back up at him, your heart still pounding wildly from everything that had just unfolded.
“In our outdoor clothes??” You teased, propping yourself up onto your forearms so you could get a proper look at him. A grin tugged at your lips as you planted one bare foot firmly against the broad wall of his warm chest, stopping him from immediately pouncing on top of you. You could feel the solid strength beneath your toes, his body barely yielding beneath the gentle resistance, “excuse me, sir? You’re not an animal, you’re—”
“—Maybe I am, Y/n,” he cut you off before you could finish.
The impatience in his voice caught you completely off guard. It wasn’t irritation. It was restlessness. A raw, aching sort of impatience that sounded like every ounce of restraint he’d been carrying all evening had finally reached its limit. He didn’t even bother reaching for his belt buckle. Instead, the familiar shimmer of his metallization evol rippled across the silver, and you watched the buckle deform before your eyes, the polished shape collapsing into a useless lump that dropped to the floor with a dull clink. Without wasting another second, he shoved his jeans open and dragged them down in one hurried motion.
“Maybe I fucking am…”
The words settled over you like a spark meeting dry tinder. A rush of adrenaline exploded through your body as he straightened back up, and your eyes immediately dropped to the unmistakable outline straining insistently beneath the fabric of his black briefs. You’d already caught glimpses of just how enormous he was, but seeing him like this, completely unable to hide what his body was doing to him, sent another pulse of heat racing through you. The sight of him standing there, so visibly affected, made your stomach tighten with anticipation.
Before you could gather another coherent thought, he was moving again. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he climbed onto the bed, and then he was over you. Completely over you. Your wrists instinctively fell apart, your arms sliding up the mattress until they rested above your head as his large frame crowded into every inch of your space. There was nowhere to look but at him, nowhere to focus but the broad span of his shoulders, the powerful muscles shifting beneath his skin, and the sheer scale of him as he settled above you. He overwhelmed your senses so completely that even the moonlight spilling from his tall windows seemed to disappear behind his silhouette, his body swallowing it whole until all you could really see was him and the eerie glow of his irises.
Your mind struggled desperately to keep pace with how quickly everything had changed. Your body, however…Your body had no such difficulty. Every nerve ending seemed to awaken beneath him as heat unfurled through your core in one overwhelming wave. Your pulse pounded between your thighs, your body responding with an almost embarrassing enthusiasm that made your breath catch. Your pussy was singing. It was fucking rejoicing at the sight above you, thrilled beyond reason by this side of Valko that had only revealed itself in fleeting glimpses until now. This wasn’t the endlessly patient man who had spent the evening carefully asking permission, checking your comfort, and fighting every instinct that urged him closer. This was the werewolf finally caving in at night beneath the unbearable weight of his own desire, giving in to a hunger he’d held on a painfully short leash since the moment you’d walked through his front door.
God…You couldn’t stop smiling. You looked like a complete, wine-buzzed idiot grinning up at him, equal parts shocked, fascinated, and hopelessly turned on as he crowded over you with the single-minded focus of a damn animal in heat. It wasn’t frightening. It was intoxicating. Watching the werewolf finally cave beneath the relentless pull of his own desire, finally stop fighting every natural impulse urging him closer, sent another delicious rush through your veins.
He buried his face against the side of your neck. His skin was almost feverishly hot. You felt the silk of his shave against your throat before he drew in a single, slow, impossibly deep breath, filling his lungs with the scent lingering against your skin. There was nothing restrained about it this time. No startled jerk backward. No embarrassed laugh. No rough shake of his head as he forced himself to think about something else. He inhaled shamelessly, greedily, as though he’d finally stopped denying himself the very thing he’d wanted since you’d begun teasing him hours ago. He let your scent wash over him. He let it settle beneath his skin. He let it get to him. He let it vex every instinct he’d been so carefully suppressing. Most of all, he let his biology stop fighting what it had been demanding from him all evening.
When he finally lifted his head again, your noses were only inches apart. His face hovered so close to yours that you could feel every warm breath that escaped him, and as your eyes met, an unmistakable chill chased its way down your spine. There was still unmistakable tenderness in the way he looked at you, still the man who had patiently waited for every invitation you’d given him, but it now lived side by side with something far more primal. The wolf was there too, no longer hidden behind relentless discipline, and for the first time since you’d met him, it wasn’t merely peeking through the cracks. It was looking directly back at you.
“Want me to be fully honest with you?” He growled beneath his breath.
The low rumble of his voice sent an immediate prickle racing across your skin. You searched his face, instinctively expecting that familiar flash of teasing amusement, some crooked grin to soften whatever he was about to say. There wasn’t one. The easygoing, playful Valko who had spent the evening making you laugh was nowhere to be found. As he stared down at you, his expression held nothing but need; raw, uncomplicated, impossible to mistake. There was no embarrassment left in him, no attempt to smooth over what he was feeling with humor. It looked startlingly honest, as though every layer of restraint he’d painstakingly maintained throughout the night had finally been stripped away until all that remained was instinct. Biology. The unfiltered nature of the werewolf you’d only caught fleeting glimpses of until now.
His hand closed around both of your wrists with effortless ease, gathering them together above your head inside one massive palm. You could have struggled if you’d wanted to, but the size of his hand around your wrists made you feel impossibly small beneath him, and the realization sent another pulse of heat straight through your core. His free hand slid up to your face, broad fingers spreading over your cheek before his thumb and forefinger squeezed your cheeks together, puffing your lips into an involuntary pout. His hooded eyes lingered there, drinking in every inch of your expression with a possessiveness that made your heart pound even harder.
“I barely slept last night ‘cause all I could think about was how good your little pussy tastes,” he admitted, his voice rough enough to scrape deliciously against every nerve you possessed, “how crazy it’s been driving me to obsess over it…”
Your breath caught so sharply it almost hurt. Your eyes widened before you could stop them. Every filthy word settled somewhere deep inside you, each one somehow more intoxicating than the last. There wasn’t a hint of exaggeration in his voice. He wasn’t trying to impress you or play a fantasy into reality. He sounded almost frustrated by the confession, as though he’d finally reached the point where keeping those thoughts to himself had become impossible. The poor werewolf really had been lying awake thinking about you, replaying the memory of tasting you over and over until it had consumed him.
“I’d cut your clothes straight off of you with my evol right now and cuff you to the bed frame so you can’t stop me,” he confessed, his thumb still pressing into your cheek as he looked down at you with that same unwavering intensity, “but I still owe you a pair of panties from yesterday. And I don’t exactly wanna do anything that’ll piss you—”
“—Do it,” the words left your mouth before you could overthink them.
They came out somewhere between a challenge and a plea, your pulse hammering so hard you could feel it everywhere. Every glimpse of this side of him only drew you in deeper, and instead of wanting him to pull back, you found yourself wanting the opposite. You wanted the walls he’d kept around those instincts to come down completely.
“You’re filthy rich, aren’t you?” You challenged, unable to stop the exhilarated smile spreading across your face despite the frantic beating of your heart, “just add ’em to the list and replace everything on me.”
Your eyes held his.
“You’re not a pussy, are you, Valko?”
The challenge landed. You watched it happen. A slow, unmistakable gleam spread across his face, sharp enough to make your stomach flip. His gaze locked onto yours with renewed intensity, and for the briefest instant, you could have sworn the amber in his eyes burned brighter. Whether it was the moonlight filtering through the bedroom window, the wine still humming pleasantly through your veins, or something far more primal surfacing beneath his skin, you couldn’t have said for certain. All you knew was that looking into those eyes made your pulse thunder in your ears.
“No,” he answered quietly. His voice was steady. Certain. Dangerously calm, “you sure that’s what you want?”
You managed to pry one wrist free from his grasp, though only because he allowed it. The realization barely registered before your fingers wrapped firmly around his forearm, guiding the hand that had been holding your jaw down to the neckline of your dress. Your pulse thundered in your ears as you looked up at him without the slightest hint of hesitation.
“So do it,” you urged, your voice unsteady with anticipation rather than fear, “I wanna know who you really are. I want the beast, not the man you pretend so hard to—”
You never finished the sentence. A sharp sound split the air beneath your chin. It wasn’t loud, but it was unmistakable. The quick, clean tear of fabric. Your breath caught as something suddenly gave way beneath your back. The snug fit of your dress loosened all at once, the tension disappearing along your spine so abruptly that it took your mind a heartbeat to understand what had happened. The zipper hadn’t simply come undone. It was gone. Disintegrated.
Your eyes dropped instinctively, and the pieces fell into place the instant you caught the metallic gleam extending from his fingertips. Razor-sharp claws of polished metal had grown seamlessly from his fingers, catching the dim moonlight as they hooked into the fabric. Before you could even process the sight, they dragged downward in one decisive motion, bunching your dress away from your skin as though the material offered no resistance whatsoever.
Oh, God. He’d done it so fast that your thoughts couldn’t keep pace with what your eyes were witnessing. He was literally ripping your clothes straight off your body. The sheer shock of it crashed into your arousal all at once, blending together into something so overwhelming it left your head spinning. Your breath left you in a shaky exhale as heat surged through every inch of you, a fine sheen of perspiration already beginning to gather at your temples while your body reacted on pure instinct. Adrenaline ignited beneath your skin, your heartbeat pounding harder and harder until every nerve seemed to buzz with the intoxicating confusion of wanting to flee and wanting to be caught all at once. Your muscles tensed beneath him without conscious thought, every instinct awake even as your desire rooted you exactly where you were.
“Is that so?” He asked, his voice low enough to vibrate through your chest. There wasn’t a trace of humor left in it. Only certainty. Only hunger, “in that case…”
The words had barely left his lips before you heard another violent rip. This time it came from the strap of your dress holding onto your shoulder. Then the next. Then another rip, the hem below at the end of it. The fabric surrendered in a single, merciless line as he tore straight through it, splitting it from top to bottom with one powerful pull. Cool air rushed across newly exposed skin as the ruined material fell away around you, leaving the torn remains of your dress hanging uselessly from his hand, dangling around your body.
You scarcely had time to gasp before his arm slid beneath your waist. The movement was impossibly quick. One moment your back rested against the mattress, and the next he was lifting you out of the torn dress as though you weighed nothing at all, hauling you effortlessly higher onto the bed until your head settled against his pillow. The entire room seemed to blur around you, your senses struggling to keep pace with the relentless certainty of every movement he made.
Through it all, he never released your other wrist. Instead, he caught both of them again with effortless precision and drew your arms above your head in one smooth motion. Before you could even think to react, your wrists were guided apart toward the metal bed frame, and you watched his evol answer his will almost instantaneously. The polished metal shifted with a fluid, unnatural grace, bending and reshaping itself around your wrists before closing with a firm metallic click. Shackles and chains formed where there had been none a heartbeat earlier, holding you securely in place as though the bed itself had become an extension of him. Oh, God. Everything about him was impossibly fast. His hands. His instincts. His evol. Your eyes could barely follow him before the next thing had already happened, leaving you breathless beneath the sheer efficiency of a predator who no longer seemed interested in pretending to be anything else.
“Remind me of something, ’cause I never had a family growing up to read me bedtime stories; just read ‘em as an adult,” he murmured.
His voice had settled into a deep, dangerous rasp that seemed to vibrate through the space between you. Without taking his eyes off you, he lifted one hand and caught the edge of your bra cup with the hooked tip of a gleaming metal claw. It snagged the fabric effortlessly, and when his gaze finally rose from the swell of your breast to meet yours again, the sight waiting for you stole your breath. His eyes. Whether it was the moon, his instincts, or something you still couldn’t fully explain, they seemed to burn with that same molten amber you’d glimpsed before, bright beneath the dim silver light.
His fangs caught the moonlight as he smiled; not warmly, not playfully, but with the slow satisfaction of a predator that already knew how this hunt would end, “what does Little Red Riding Hood say to the big bad wolf before he devours her?”
Your pulse stumbled. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the metalized claws hooked into your bra as Valko began to draw them downward with agonizing slowness. The sharpened steel split through the fabric as though it barely existed, the padded cup resisting for only a heartbeat before surrendering with a soft, deliberate tear. You watched the lace peel apart inch by inch by the path of his evol, exposing the pale stuffing packed inside the cup as the fabric split around it beneath his gaze. He didn’t rush it. He toyed with you, dragging his gleaming claws through the cup with deliberate enthrallment until the ruined fabric hung open, treating you less like someone he intended to undress and more like live prey he wanted to savor before the inevitable.
The sound alone made every tiny hair on your body stand on end. You swallowed hard, suddenly aware of just how dry your mouth had become despite the saliva gathering beneath your tongue. Your breathing had turned uneven somewhere along the way, each inhale catching just a little as your heart hammered violently against your ribs. His attention drifted lower, and you realized with another rush of heat that he wasn’t looking at your face anymore. He was watching your pulse. Watching it race beneath your skin with quiet fascination, as though every frantic beat told him exactly what he wanted to know.
“She says…” Your voice came out softer than you’d intended, your throat tightening around the words as you struggled to steady your breathing beneath that unwavering stare, “my…W-what big ears you have…”
The response earned an immediate reaction. His wolf ears twitched. Then they lifted. They stood tall atop his head, every bit of their attention turning toward you in perfect, instinctive focus. The subtle flick of them made your stomach tighten all over again. They weren’t merely hearing you. They were listening. The way a predator listened for prey.
“Oh, right,” his smile spread wider.
It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t cruel.bIt was the quiet satisfaction of someone enjoying every second of the game unfolding between you. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly turned his hand over, rotating it until the smooth, flat side of his metal claws rested lightly against the delicate column of your throat. The metal was startlingly cool against skin already flushed with heat, and he drew them downward with exquisite control, letting them glide over the frantic rhythm of your pulse. He didn’t press hard enough to threaten you, only enough for you to feel the unmistakable contrast between the chilling smoothness of the metal and the feverish beat fluttering helplessly beneath it, as though he wanted to memorize the rhythm your body had fallen into while you lay beneath his unwavering gaze.
“The better to hear you with, my dear,” he recited.
Another shudder rolled through your body, harder this time, starting at the base of your spine before rippling helplessly through every limb. Your skin erupted in goosebumps as he lowered himself over you, and your pulse leapt violently the instant his tongue found your throat. The lick was slow. Self-indulgent. He savored you.bHis tongue dragged along the side of your neck with maddening deliberation, collecting the salty sheen of sweat that had begun to gather there, tasting every trace of adrenaline your body had flooded into your bloodstream, every intoxicating hint of your pheromones. The sound of him swallowing made your stomach tighten into a knot, and a shaky breath escaped you before you could stop it. God…He was actually tasting your fear, and instead of frightening you away, the realization only sent another rush of heat crashing between your thighs.
Your pussy throbbed. Your heart hammered so violently it felt like it was trying to escape your ribs altogether, every frantic beat seeming to draw his attention even more. Your body didn’t know whether to struggle or melt beneath him. Every instinct screamed that you were caught beneath something dangerous, something capable of overpowering you without the slightest effort, and yet your desire only swelled alongside that delicious fear until the two sensations became impossible to separate.
Then your bra gave way. There wasn’t even a warning. One heartbeat it still hugged your body, and the next the clasp securing it behind your back simply…Dissolved. You felt the support vanish as the ruined metal ceased to exist, followed almost immediately by the tiny clasps anchoring the straps to the cups. They disintegrated just as effortlessly, surrendering to his evol without so much as a sound until the garment could no longer hold itself together.
“What else?” He asked, “remind me, pretty girl…”
He lifted himself back toward your face, and your breath caught all over again. His eyes glowed so bright, the molten amber seeming supernatural in the moonlight as his pupils widened into dark pools while he studied your expression. He looked utterly captivated by what he saw; the racing pulse in your throat, your parted lips, your trembling breaths, every involuntary reaction your body betrayed to him.
Before you could think, Valko snatched the bra away. The ruined fabric disappeared from your body in one impossibly fast movement, leaving you gasping as instinct seized control. Your hands shot after it on reflex, desperate to cover yourself, to catch it, to do something. The effort lasted barely an instant. The chains snapped taut with a sharp metallic rattle as your wrists were yanked short by the shackles encircling them. The cold restraints bit gently into your skin, reminding you with humiliating efficiency that there was nowhere for your hands to go. You pulled anyway, adrenaline overriding reason, your muscles straining uselessly against the unyielding metal while the bed frame held you exactly where he’d decided you belonged.
The realization made another rush of heat flood your body. You were trapped. Completely. Your chest rose and fell in uneven, trembling breaths as your fingers abandoned the futile struggle and curled instinctively around the cool chains connecting your wrists to the frame, gripping them tightly enough that your knuckles began to pale.
“M-my…What big eyes you have…” You breathed, swallowing around the dryness in your throat as your voice quivered beneath the weight of his stare.
Without answering, he lowered himself again. His gaze never left yours. Not for a single second. It was almost worse that way. You watched him descend toward your exposed breasts while those glowing eyes remained fixed on your face, as though he wanted to witness every flicker of anticipation, every tremble, every helpless reaction before he even touched you. Then his tongue slowly rolled free between gleaming teeth.
He lapped hungrily at your hardened nipple. The broad stroke landed from bottom to top with a wet, deliberate slap that sent a violent jolt through your body. Your back arched instinctively against the mattress despite the restraints anchoring you in place, your fingers tightening convulsively around the chains as pleasure crashed straight through the adrenaline already surging inside you. Your lips fell open around a trembling moan you couldn’t swallow back, every nerve ending seeming to ignite beneath the hungry attention of the predator who refused to look anywhere but directly into your eyes as he tasted you.
“The better to see you with, my dear…” He grinned down at you.
The smile looked wicked beneath those glowing amber eyes, no longer playful so much as quietly satisfied, as though he was thoroughly enjoying every second of watching you writhe beneath him. He slowly pushed himself upright on one hand while the other drifted back to the shackle encircling your wrist. Broad fingers lingered against the cool metal for a lingering moment before gliding down the sensitive inside of your forearm with deliberate slowness. Every inch of the touch left another trail of goosebumps in its wake, your skin impossibly sensitive after everything he’d already done to you. It wasn’t simply a caress. It felt like appreciation. Like he was admiring the restraints he’d crafted with his own evol, admiring how securely they held you, admiring the way they rendered you completely helpless beneath him. The realization sent another delicious shiver rolling through your body, adrenaline still coursing through your veins in restless waves that left every muscle taut and every breath just a little too quick.
“And what big hands you have…” You continued, your voice softer now, the familiar children’s fairy tale somehow sounding filthy when spoken between the two of you like this.
His gaze left your face. You felt it traveling over you with agonizing slowness, sweeping down the curve of your throat, lingering over your bare breasts before continuing lower across your stomach until it settled squarely between your thighs. Heat flooded your face and chest beneath the sheer intensity of the look, but instead of shrinking from it, your body answered before your mind ever could. Your thighs drifted farther apart against the mattress in an unmistakable invitation, opening yourself to him as though silently encouraging him to keep looking. You bit your lower lip and gazed back up at him with exaggerated innocence, trying to appear sweet despite the excitement buzzing beneath your skin. It lasted all of two seconds before your devious little smile betrayed you, slowly creeping back across your lips as you watched him become completely captivated by your pussy. He actually got distracted. His eyes lingered there just a heartbeat too long, drinking you in with shameless fascination before he caught himself, gave the smallest shake of his head, and visibly forced his attention back to the game the two of you had been playing.
“…The better to hug you with,” he recited, though the words emerged rougher this time. The teasing lilt had nearly vanished from his voice altogether, replaced by something huskier, heavier with need, every syllable sounding strained beneath instincts he no longer seemed interested in hiding.
As he spoke, one gleaming metal claw descended toward the narrow strip of your soaked panties. Your pulse lurched so violently you felt it everywhere. The hooked tip curled beneath the damp fabric with effortless precision, catching the wet strip cleanly before the smooth side of the cool metal brushed against the feverish skin between your thighs. The contrast was almost unbearable. The icy touch against skin flushed with heat and slick with arousal shot through your body like a bolt of lightning, making you jump instinctively beneath him. Your restrained wrists tightened around the chains above your head, the metal rattling softly as adrenaline surged through you all over again, your breathing turning shallow while he watched every involuntary reaction with the patient focus of a wolf who delighted in seeing his prey quiver beneath his touch.
“But, Valko,” you pouted up at him, pouring every ounce of fake innocence you could muster into the expression as you batted your lashes. Your gaze drifted to the bob of his Adam’s apple just as it rolled beneath his throat, betraying the thick swallow he couldn’t quite suppress while he stared down between your legs. His attention never wavered from the slow destruction unfolding beneath his hand. One clawed grip had gathered the soaked strip of your panties into a tight bunch, and with deliberate, merciless patience, he began tearing them away from your pussy. The fabric stretched, resisted for the briefest moment, then surrendered with a slow, satisfying rip as he peeled it up and away from your body before dragging the ruined material clean over your hips. Cool air kissed skin that had been hidden only moments before, and your breath hitched into an airy little laugh that sounded almost breathless even to your own ears. Adrenaline coursed through you in hot, dizzying waves, tangling itself so completely with the horrible, delicious arousal twisting low in your stomach that you could barely tell where one sensation ended and the other began. Your entire body felt light, almost giddy from it, every nerve ending humming as he finally bared your pussy completely to the hungry, instinctive lick of his lips, “what a terrible, big mouth you have!”
God. That nearly did him in. You lifted your hips toward him in one slow, shameless swivel, offering yourself just enough to watch the effect it had on him. His glowing amber eyes followed the movement immediately, drawn straight back to your pussy as though he couldn’t stop himself. You watched every flicker of restraint fray a little more beneath the weight of his instincts, and for one intoxicating heartbeat, you were certain you had him completely vexed beneath your spell.
Then he looked back at you. The suddenness of it stole the breath right out of your lungs. His gaze snapped from between your thighs to your eyes with such startling intensity that your entire body seemed to lock in place beneath it. You went still, your breath catching painfully in your throat as those molten eyes pinned you exactly where you were. The moment stretched between you, thick with anticipation, before the gleaming metal claws quietly disintegrated.
His enormous hands found your thighs. Huge palms wrapped around them with effortless certainty, and before your mind could even think to react, you were moving. Your legs were hoisted high into the air as though they weighed nothing at all, your body folding helplessly beneath his strength while he threw your thighs over his broad shoulders. At the same time, he rose onto his knees, lifting your hips completely off the mattress until only the back of your head remained cradled against the bed. The sudden change left your stomach swooping, your pulse exploding into another frantic sprint as instinct took over. Your hands scrambled desperately for something, anything, to steady yourself, fingers finding the cold metal of the bed frame and clutching it tightly while you hung there exactly where he’d decided you belonged.
“The better to eat this sweet little pussy with,” he growled, the words coming out low, rough, and hot enough to send another violent shiver through your body.
The next thing you knew…You were seeing stars. A sharp gasp flooded your lungs as a helpless grin spread across your flushed face. Your brows pulled together, your forehead creasing with the sheer force of the sensation as your eyes fluttered back the instant his fat, drooling tongue landed over your clit in one broad, wet slap. The touch was so beautifully familiar that your entire body recognized it before your mind ever could, and the pleasure hit you like a crashing wave.
“Yes!” You cried, your voice already trembling, “God, eat me up, eat me up, you fiend!”
The words earned an immediate response. A deep, rumbling growl vibrated straight into your pussy. The sound wasn’t merely heard; it rolled through you, buried against your slick folds as his mouth remained sealed around you. The vibration shook all the way through your core while he pulled you into another hungry suck, his lips making a greedy, messy seal around your slippery pussy before drawing another long pull from it. Every rough shake of his head made your soaked folds squelch obscenely against his ravenous mouth, the wet sounds filling the room until they seemed almost louder than your own breathing.
Heat rushed to your face. You could feel yourself getting wetter. Every greedy pull coaxed more slick from your cunt, and you became painfully aware of the slow trail it left as it escaped him. It trickled downward in warm, agonizingly slow rivulets, sliding through your folds before continuing farther until you felt it reach your asshole. Then it hit you. That wasn’t all you. Valko was drooling. He was literally drooling over your pussy.
The realization shot another violent pulse of arousal through your body. His mouth had become so shamelessly hungry, so completely consumed by the taste of you, that saliva spilled freely from his lips as he devoured you without restraint. It mixed with your slick until neither of you seemed capable of producing enough of either, leaving everything between your thighs embarrassingly, gloriously wet.
His rough hands dug even deeper into the soft meat of your thighs, fingers flexing possessively until they felt less like hands and more like restraints. They held you firmly against the broad slope of his shoulders, locking your legs around either side of his head while he claimed complete control over your body. Then he began moving you. Not gently. For himself. He rocked your hips with slow, powerful certainty, dragging your pussy back and forth over his tongue instead of chasing you with his mouth. Every movement forced another broad stroke against your clit before your slick folds slid across the rough, wet muscle above them, and the overwhelming combination of friction, pressure, and relentless rhythm ripped a loud moan straight out of you before your mind could even begin to catch up with what your body was experiencing.
Everything was happening too fast. Every nerve in your body seemed to ignite at once. Your thighs trembled violently where they rested over his shoulders, your fingers clutching helplessly at the cold bed frame while another rush of adrenaline tangled itself hopelessly with pleasure until the two became completely inseparable.
You somehow managed to lift your head. You needed to see him. Your dazed eyes searched until they found him, and the sight nearly stole what little breath you had left. He was looking down at you. The entire time. Those glowing amber eyes never left your face, watching you with unwavering, predatory fascination even as he buried himself against your soaked pussy. It was as though your reactions were every bit as intoxicating to him as your taste. He watched every tremble of your mouth, every flutter of your lashes, every helpless expression of ecstasy that crossed your face while he ate you with loud, husky enthusiasm, his mouth working greedily between your thighs as though he couldn’t bear to pull away long enough to take a proper breath.
The sight alone made another shudder tear through you. The sound of him. The feel of him. The way he looked at you while devouring your pussy with such ravenous focus. It all crashed together into one impossible sensation that sent pleasure exploding through your clit like a bolt of lightning. It streaked upward through your belly, radiating through every limb until your fingers curled, your toes tightened involuntarily, and a dizzying rush of blood flooded your head, leaving the whole world swimming around the wolf who seemed intent on eating you exactly the way he’d promised.
“F-f-fuck…” The curse trembled helplessly from your lips as your fingers tightened convulsively around the cold metal of the bed frame, your palms clinging to it as though it were the only solid thing left in the room.
Your entire body rocked instinctively against him, grinding yourself along the delicious, wet heat of his tongue with every helpless roll of your hips. The sensation unraveled you so completely that your own voice startled you, emerging strained and breathless, every word soaked in need and dripping with ecstasy. Your lungs struggled to find a steady rhythm as pleasure repeatedly stole the air from them, leaving you fighting just to keep your eyes open. Even when you managed it, it was almost impossible to hold your gaze on him for long. The sight was simply too shameless. Too lewd.
His broad shoulders flexed beneath your legs, every muscle standing out with unrestrained power as he held you firmly in place, his forearms tightening with every squeeze of your thighs until you could feel the strength surrounding you from every direction. He looked completely consumed by what he was doing, every ounce of that powerful body focused on devouring you, and the sight alone threatened to send you over the edge.
“You look—…!” Your words broke apart beneath another wave of pleasure before you managed to gasp them out, “s-so good…Oh my God!”
“You’ve been thinking about me all day, haven’t ya?” His voice reached you between hungry mouthfuls of your pussy, low and rough, never once interrupting the unwavering eye contact he’d maintained almost the entire time.
Those glowing amber eyes shamelessly held yours captive while his warm breath spilled over your slick, oversensitive skin between every greedy lick. The lower half of his handsome face glistened in the dim moonlit bedroom, your nectar smeared across his mouth, his chin, his jaw, leaving him looking every bit as thoroughly intoxicated by you as he sounded.
He suckled your clit again. Hard. The growl vibrating in his chest barely had time to escape before he buried himself against you once more, ravaging your sensitive little clit with another greedy lap of his tongue as though speaking had become an inconvenience, something he forced himself to do only long enough to say exactly what he wanted before immediately returning to eating your pussy.
“Quit playing cool and tell me.”
Another wet lick.
“I could smell it the moment you answered the door…”
His tongue dragged over you again, broad and relentless, drawing another helpless tremor from your body.
“You masturbated right before I picked you up.”
Another hungry suck.
“I could smell your endorphins…”
Your pussy fluttered involuntarily against the broad slap of his tongue. The crude honesty of his words hit you almost as hard as his mouth. There wasn’t the slightest trace of embarrassment in him. No teasing exaggeration. No smug attempt to fluster you for the sake of it. He simply stated it with complete, instinctive certainty, as naturally as if he were commenting on the weather. His werewolf senses had known the truth the moment you’d opened your front door for him, and he’d carried that knowledge with him all evening, waiting until now to strip away the last of your pretense.
God…He was absolutely right. Heat flooded your face all over again, but it only fed the desperate ache already burning low in your belly. You were burning for him, for the fearless confidence with which he’d cornered you, for the shameless certainty in his voice, for the way he demanded your honesty while his tongue continued driving you completely wild. Every broad stroke over your sensitive little clit blurred your thoughts further, licking you toward oblivion with relentless hunger until the tight coil deep inside you cinched impossibly tighter. It wound itself faster and faster with every greedy lap of his tongue, tightening beyond any pace your overwhelmed mind could hope to follow, leaving you trembling below him as your body raced helplessly toward something you could no longer stop.
“Say it,” he demanded.
The command rumbled through the room as he slowly rolled his tongue out into another long, sticky lap over your pussy. You watched it happen with dazed fascination, unable to tear your eyes away from the gorgeous, shameless sight beneath you. His pretty pink tongue spread broadly over your exposed clit before smothering it in another hungry lick, and when it drew back again, you could clearly see your own nectar stretching after it in delicate, glistening webs that refused to break until the last possible second. The obscene sight alone nearly stole the breath from your lungs. His glowing golden eyes never left yours, staring so deeply into you that it felt impossible to hide a single thought from him, while his powerful hands tightened around your thighs with enough possessive strength to make you feel every broad finger pressing into your flesh.
“Say you want me, Y/n,” his grip tightened another fraction, his voice dropping lower still as instinct bled through every word, “say you want all of me…”
“I want you!” The confession burst from you before you could even think to hold it back, your voice climbing helplessly with euphoria as the last walls around your guarded heart crumbled beneath him.
Desire had swallowed every ounce of your resistance, leaving nothing but raw honesty behind as you stared up at the breathtaking werewolf between your trembling thighs. You couldn’t stop looking at him. You didn’t want to. The sight of those sharp teeth framing your slick pussy while he devoured you with such ravenous focus was so achingly beautiful it left your thoughts in complete disarray. He looked like a predator feasting on prey he’d painstakingly hunted down and finally claimed for himself, and somehow knowing you were the object of that hunger only made your pulse race harder.
“I want all of you!” You cried, your words tumbling over one another as another wave of pleasure crashed through your body, “I haven’t s-stopped thinking about you!”
Hearing your own admission spoken aloud did something wicked to you. You watched the smallest twitch pull between his thick brows, so fleeting you almost missed it, but it was there. Want. Pure, unmistakable want. His pupils searched your face with almost desperate intensity as though committing every expression to memory, and then his tongue moved faster. Much faster.
The broad, wet strokes became quick, hungry flicks that worked relentlessly over your sensitive clit, each loud, sloppy pass sending another violent tremor racing through your body. Pleasure clawed mercilessly at your sanity, tearing away coherent thought until all that remained was sensation. Burst after burst of intoxicating heat bloomed inside you, glittering through your body in dazzling waves that seemed to spread outward from your core and ignite every nerve they touched. You could only stare up at him with helpless fascination, completely captivated by the gorgeous, filthy sight of Valko shamelessly eating your pussy into an utterly sloppy, lewd mess. Watching him enjoy it so completely was almost as overwhelming as the pleasure itself.
It was too much. It wasn’t enough. It was everything all at once. Another crushing wave of ecstasy rolled through you, drawing an involuntary clench from deep inside your body. Your thighs began trembling violently on either side of his heated head before squeezing around him almost on instinct, holding him tighter against you as your hips rocked helplessly into his messy mouth. Your toes curled so hard they ached, your fingers clenched convulsively around the cold metal of the bed frame, and every frantic grind of your pussy against his hungry tongue brought the orgasm barreling toward you faster than you could possibly hope to outrun.
“I’ve been dying to cum all over your mouth again!” You confessed shamelessly, the filthy admission spilling from your lips before you could think to hold it back.
Your voice came out breathless, frayed around the edges by pleasure as you fought desperately to keep your eyes open. You needed to see him. Needed the sight of him between your thighs as the world blurred around the overwhelming sensations consuming your body. Your gaze finally found him, locking onto the hypnotic movement of his mouth as it bobbed relentlessly against your clit. His tongue never stopped, each broad lick landing in perfect rhythm with the increasingly desperate squeeze of your thighs around his head while you helplessly ground yourself over the warm, wet press of his tongue, chasing every ounce of friction he offered.
“Oh my God! Oh! Ohh! Hahh! Valko, please! Please!” The plea dissolved into broken cries as your body betrayed you completely, “eat it, keep eating it!”
Your eyes rolled helplessly back into your skull. Your jaw fell slack. The next sound that escaped you wasn’t a moan. It was a scream. It ripped free from somewhere deep inside your chest as your entire body convulsed beneath the force of your orgasm. Violent tremors overtook every muscle you possessed, your thighs shaking uncontrollably around either side of his head as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you without mercy. Valko answered your body instinctively, wrapping both powerful arms securely around your thighs and your waist, gathering you tightly against him while he curled over you as though he had no intention of letting you drift even an inch away. His strength held you effortlessly while you came apart in his grasp, your body bucking and trembling as his name tore itself from your lungs again.
God…It was beautiful. Raw. Completely unrestrained. A radiant grin spread helplessly across your face even as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, your expression glowing with pure delight while earth-shattering pleasure burst from your clit and exploded low in the pit of your stomach. It radiated outward in blinding waves, flooding every inch of your body with beautiful, tingling heat until it felt as though you were suspended inside brilliant light. You didn’t try to muffle yourself. You didn’t fight the sounds spilling from your lips. You let yourself scream. You let yourself chant his name. You let every ounce of your euphoria ring through the room completely unabashed, every cry freer than the last as you surrendered to the wonderful release overtaking you.
Above you, Valko answered with a deep, satisfied moan of his own around a huge, greedy mouthful of your fluttering pussy. The vibration rolled straight through your oversensitive body, pulling another helpless tremor from your exhausted muscles as your cunt continued twitching again and again around the relentless attention he refused to deny it. Then, without warning, his tongue slipped deep, gliding inside you as naturally as though it had always belonged there. He hadn’t asked. He hadn’t hesitated. It felt like he was determined to personally feel every frantic flutter of your walls squeezing around something, anything, but emptiness. He wanted to be there. Wanted to experience every involuntary pulse of your pussy, every desperate contraction born from your pleasure, lingering through each trembling aftershock until your strength finally abandoned you and your body went wonderfully limp in the secure embrace of his powerful arms.
You didn’t even notice the metal shackles disappear. One moment they held your wrists fast, and the next they simply ceased to exist, dissolving into nothing as though they had never been there at all. Your hands fell free without your mind registering it, every coherent thought still hopelessly lost beneath the aftershocks of your orgasm. Blood roared through your ears, your head swimming so heavily that when your eyelids finally fluttered open, the ceiling above you refused to come into focus. The room seemed to sway gently around you, moonlight blurring into soft streaks as you struggled to steady your breathing. Even finding Valko with your eyes felt impossible. Your chest rose and fell in desperate, uneven breaths, your lungs still refusing to catch up with the way your body had been unraveled only moments before. All you knew was that you wanted more.
The need came instinctively, bypassing every conscious thought. Somewhere through the lingering haze, your mind drifted back to the night before, remembering the way he came undone from tasting you, and before you could even think about what you were doing, your trembling fingers reached for his cock. By the time he’d carefully lowered your hips back onto the mattress and shifted quickly to your side with that unmistakable sense of purpose, your palm had already found the firm heat waiting beneath the fabric of his underwear. Relief washed over you the instant your hand settled over him. He was still rock hard. Hot. Throbbing steadily beneath your palm. Your fingers lingered there almost greedily, feeling the unmistakable pulse of him through the thin material as your sluggish mind finally pieced it together. He hadn’t cum from eating you out this time.
“I jacked off right before I picked you up,” he panted.
His own breathing was nearly as uneven as yours, every word pulled from lungs that hadn’t fully recovered either. Still moving with restless urgency, he grabbed the torn fabric your dressed was reduced to in one quick motion before dragging the soft fabric roughly across the lower half of his face. It wasn’t a careful cleanup. It was hurried, almost impatient, just enough to wipe away the lingering slick coating his mouth and chin before he tossed it aside without another thought.
Then he was back. His hand slipped behind you, pulling you upright from the mattress with surprising care despite the urgency driving every movement. Before you could even fully lift your head, his mouth found yours. The kiss was hungry. Immediate. You tasted yourself on him.bThe familiar sweetness lingered on his tongue, mingling with the warmth of his breath as he kissed you deeply enough to make your pulse skip all over again. Between one kiss and the next, your eyes managed to open just enough to catch another glimpse of him. His amber eyes still glowed in the dim bedroom, bright enough to make your heart squeeze with fresh surprise despite everything you’d already witnessed. The sight stole your attention for only a heartbeat before he captured your mouth again, smothering the rest of his words into another greedy kiss.
“I had a feeling this would happen,” he murmured against your lips, “now c’mere, you owe me a front row seat of the next one…”
Before you could even process what had happened, before the dizzy rush of blood pounding through your head had settled enough for the room to stop spinning, Valko was already moving. He gathered you into his hands with certainty and drew you along with him as though your body belonged exactly where he intended to place it. One moment you were catching your breath, and the next you were on your knees, your palms instinctively finding the cool grip of the metal bed frame as he guided you there. You clung to it for balance, your muscles still pleasantly weak beneath the lingering aftershocks of your orgasm, content to let him handle you. Let him position you. Let him lead. There was something intoxicating about surrendering to the confidence in every movement he made, allowing him to arrange you exactly the way he wanted without needing a single question or explanation.
By the time your thoughts managed to catch up, he was already lying beneath you. His broad shoulders shifted behind your knees with an eager little wiggle as he settled himself comfortably underneath you, the movement so unexpectedly boyish beneath everything you’d just witnessed that it made your heart flutter despite the heat still coiling low in your belly. Only then did you finally dare lower your gaze.
His face was waiting beneath your still-sensitive pussy. The warmth of his breath ghosted against you before he ever touched you, lingering between your thighs as though he was already savoring the anticipation. God…It was so unbelievably erotic. You watched the slow smile spread across his face as he admired the sight above him, your pussy hovering only inches from his waiting mouth while his large hands reached around from behind to settle possessively over your thighs. His broad palms wrapped around them with unmistakable hunger, fingers flexing gently against your skin as though he already couldn’t wait to pull you closer.
“Sit,” he said, his voice low and rough, giving your thighs a firm tug that encouraged you downward toward his waiting mouth, “good girl, such an obedient little chew toy…”
The words struck somewhere deep inside you. The praise. The command. The startling dominance woven so naturally into both. It caught you completely off guard, sending a fresh bolt of electricity racing through your body until your skin prickled beneath the intensity of it. Every instinct inside you melted at the sound of his voice, and before you realized you’d even made the decision, you obeyed. You slowly sank onto his waiting mouth, letting your full weight settle against him in a way that seemed to pleasantly surprise him. You felt the faint shift beneath you, the quiet satisfaction in the way he welcomed every ounce of you without hesitation, and another wave of warmth spread through your chest.
Almost instinctively, your hand lifted to him. Your fingers buried themselves deep into his soft auburn hair, threading through the thick strands before closing into a secure fist at his roots, anchoring yourself to him as much as claiming him for yourself.
“Stick your tongue out,” you demanded between unsteady breaths, your voice still trembling from everything he’d already done to you, “show me what I’m sitting on.”
He obeyed without the slightest hesitation.nA pleased smile curved across his lips as he slowly rolled out his tongue exactly the way you’d demanded, broad, wet, and eager beneath you. His glowing eyes shone up at your face with unmistakable delight, as though following your command excited him every bit as much as giving commands excited you. The sight alone made your stomach tighten, your pulse fluttering wildly in your throat.
Before you could savor it, those huge hands swept up over your body and closed around your breasts. The squeeze was firm enough to wrench a sharp gasp from your lungs. Your balance disappeared instantly. Your body lurched forward as his powerful grip nearly tipped you completely off center, forcing your hands to scramble down over his wrists in a desperate attempt to steady yourself. Your fingers clung to him instinctively, searching for something solid while adrenaline flashed hot beneath your skin. Every ounce of stability you’d thought you had vanished beneath the effortless certainty of his strength.
He didn’t loosen his grip. If anything, he tightened it. Using nothing but his hands around your breasts, he drew you downward with rough, unapologetic authority. At the same time, his tongue stiffened beneath you, lifting proudly toward your waiting pussy until the realization struck you all at once. Oh, God. He was going to impale you on it.
Before your mind could even finish the thought, he yanked you the rest of the way down. Heat exploded through your body as his tongue slid shamelessly inside your pussy, the broad muscle pushing past your entrance before giving an eager little wiggle that made every muscle in your body jump. It wasn’t merely pressing into you; it twirled, slowly exploring your entrance with obscene confidence, and the sensation sent a violent surge of pleasure racing through your core. Your mouth fell open around a broken breath as your thighs quivered uncontrollably above him, every nerve ending screaming beneath the warm, wet invasion.
He never looked away. Not once. Those amber eyes stayed locked onto yours, watching every twitch of your face, every gasp, every involuntary tremble as though your reactions fascinated him even more than the taste of your pussy. And he never let you go. Just when your body began melting around the sensation, his arms lifted you effortlessly upward again. Your pussy slipped free of his tongue for only the briefest instant before he hauled you right back down with startling force. Your ass landed against his strong chin with a loud clap as your pussy crashed onto his waiting mouth, his tongue immediately driving back inside you. The sudden impact pulled a helpless cry from your lips, your entire body jolting beneath the intensity of it.
Good Lord…The realization hit you almost harder than the pleasure. Until now, he’d only let you believe you were in control. He’d indulged every teasing order you’d given him because watching you play the part had turned him on. He’d let you think you were leading because he’d enjoyed seeing your confidence blossom beneath his attention. But this…This was who Valko really was. The patient restraint. The teasing smiles. The careful composure. They had all been choices. In reality, you were on top of someone who could overpower you in every possible sense of the word. Someone impossibly stronger than you. Faster than you. Someone who could move your body exactly where he wanted it without the slightest effort, and who knew precisely when he wanted to stop indulging you and flip that switch for himself.
The realization sent another pulse of adrenaline surging through your body. It startled you so completely that your thoughts simply stopped. Before you could even process it, those enormous hands tightened around your breasts again, claiming them with the same possessive grip before lifting you once more. Then he pulled. Hard.
Your pussy slapped back onto his face with another heavy clap as his tongue speared inside you again, wrenching a helpless whine from your trembling lips. He lifted you only to pull you down again. Then again. Again. Again. Each bounce came harder than the last, his powerful arms dictating every rise and every fall while your body gradually stopped trying to anticipate the movement altogether. Your thighs shook violently around his head, your fingers clutched helplessly at him wherever they could, and your breath dissolved into broken little cries as he bounced you relentlessly over his waiting mouth, forcing your pussy onto his tongue again and again until the rhythm no longer belonged to you.
Somewhere between one desperate breath and the next, it dawned on you that you weren’t choosing the pace anymore. You weren’t teasing him. You weren’t leading him. You were riding his tongue exactly the way he wanted you to. You were obeying him.
“Atta girl,” the wicked smile lingering beneath you somehow made the words land even harder.
His enormous hands squeezed your breasts again, this time with even more possessive firmness, the pressure bordering on rough enough to pull a sharp gasp from your lungs. A delicious sting bloomed beneath his palms, sending a jolt straight through your body as your head tipped forward instinctively. Your eyes flew open, locking onto his glowing golden gaze below you. You couldn’t even think of something to say. The look on his face stole every coherent thought from your head. Your fingers clung helplessly to his thick wrists, trying to steady yourself against the overwhelming strength holding you exactly where he wanted you.
Then he smiled. Not teasingly. Smugly. Like he already knew exactly what his next words were about to do to you. The confidence shining in his expression made heat rush into your face before he’d even spoken, as though he’d already hunted down your reaction and was simply waiting to watch it happen.
“Hump my tongue,” he commanded, his voice low, rough, utterly certain, “c’mon. Don’t be shy…”
The words struck somewhere embarrassingly deep inside you. Something hot. Something humiliating. Something that made your pulse leap so violently you were sure he could feel it. He knew. God…He knew. That smug grin spreading across his handsome face told you he’d anticipated exactly how mortified the command would make you, exactly how thoroughly it would unravel every remaining ounce of composure you still clung to. Before you could recover, one of his hands disappeared from your breast. A sharp smack landed across your ass.
SMACK!
The sound echoed through the room, startling a shocked gasp out of you as your whole body jolted from the sudden sting. Almost immediately afterward, his broad palm spread possessively over the soft flesh, fingers sinking deep into the dough of your ass before closing with firm, unapologetic authority. He held you there for only a heartbeat. Then he pulled. Not gently. Deliberately.
His massive hand drew your hips forward, setting a rhythm for you before you even realized what he was doing. Your body answered him before your pride ever could. You obeyed. The sheer lewdness of the command seeped beneath your skin like liquid fire, spreading through every nerve until your face burned almost as hot as the ache between your thighs. Sweat gathered at the small of your back while your breathing grew increasingly uneven, your body helplessly falling into the cadence his enormous hand demanded. Every powerful tug guided your hips exactly where he wanted them, and somewhere along the way you stopped trying to resist the rhythm altogether. You simply followed it.
His broad tongue flattened eagerly beneath your pussy, pressing firmly against your swollen clit as though presenting itself for you exactly as ordered. Every roll of your hips dragged your clit across the warm, wet muscle in slow, shameless strokes that made your entire body shudder. The sensation bordered on unbearable. Each grind sent another violent surge of pleasure racing through your pussy before bursting outward in glittering waves that cinched tighter and tighter inside your belly.
God…He was driving you insane. You buried both hands into his thick auburn hair, your fingers threading deeply through the soft strands while instinctively taking care to avoid brushing against his wolf ears.
“Mhmm!” The eager sound rumbled from deep in Valko’s chest the instant you obeyed him, his brows knitting together beneath you as pure, immediate bliss lit his face.
He watched you without so much as a single blink, eyes locked greedily onto every helpless movement of your body while the vibration of his pleased hum traveled straight through your pussy. The sensation alone made your breath catch, goosebumps racing over your skin as though his approval itself had become something tangible, something you could feel pulsing between your thighs. His hand left your breast only to settle lower. Broad fingers spread possessively over your stomach before his thumb slipped between your thighs, stretching your swollen vulva upward with practiced confidence until—Oh, God. Your clit popped free, laid bare above his waiting tongue. His eyes gleamed. Then he devoured it.
His tongue flicked over your exposed clit with shameless hunger, quick, greedy strokes that stole every coherent thought from your head. A broken pant escaped him as he chased every movement of your hips, his tongue hanging openly from his mouth as though he couldn’t bear the slightest interruption in the friction. Every desperate hump you made was met instantly, his sloppy tongue following after your clit with relentless devotion, refusing to let even a fraction of pressure disappear between your slick flesh and his eager mouth. It was almost frantic, almost animalistic, as though the werewolf beneath you had become completely consumed by the taste of his prey, determined to keep you exactly where he wanted you until there was nothing left of you but trembling pleasure.
It was too hot. Too carnal. Too filthy. Every flick of his tongue, every wet sound of his mouth ravaging your pussy, every hungry breath spilling around your clit only dragged you deeper into the haze swallowing your mind. There was nothing polished about it anymore. Nothing restrained. Only raw appetite, the broad, powerful wolf beneath you openly feasting while his glowing eyes never once abandoned your face. When he smiled, his sharp fangs caught the moonlight, gleaming brilliantly against the slick shine coating his lips, and the sheer delight radiating from him at the sight of you nearly stole the breath from your lungs. Then he caught you staring. His grin widened. Smug. Wicked. Utterly pleased that you’d been caught admiring the sight of him buried beneath your pussy. That was all it took. One look. One impossibly satisfied smile from the hunter holding you exactly where he wanted you.
Your body unraveled all over again. Heat twisted violently through your core as your insides cinched tighter and tighter, every relentless flick of his tongue sending another crushing wave of pleasure crashing through you before the last one had even faded. Your thighs trembled uncontrollably around the feverish heat of his head, squeezing him as though your body no longer knew how to do anything except cling to him while you chased that dazzling edge of oblivion once more.
“I’m cumming!” The scream tore from your throat before you could stop it.
Your jaw fell open as your breath caught painfully in your chest, leaving you suspended on the edge while both fists buried themselves deep into his damp auburn hair. You clung to him for dear life, fingers tightening helplessly at his roots as his enormous hands settled firmly against your hips again. Their encouragement wasn’t gentle. They guided you with unwavering confidence, urging your body to keep grinding your pussy over the happy growl vibrating from his ravenous mouth. The sound rolled straight through your clit, sending another violent tremor through your body until all you could do was obey, rocking yourself harder against his eager tongue while the wolf beneath you accepted every desperate movement with obvious delight.
Another scream burst from your lips when you finally managed to gasp for air, your entire weight bearing down into one vicious grind against his hungry tongue, “yes! Yes! Valko, yes!”
A breathless laugh escaped you, equal parts wonder and utter incredulity, as you rode out the overwhelming rush of your ecstasy. Your spine arched helplessly, your shoulders rolling back while your head fell against the force of your pleasure, chin tipping toward the ceiling as wave after blinding wave crashed through you. Valko never stopped. His deliciously sloppy tongue chased every tiny twitch of your clit with relentless devotion, flicking after each involuntary pulse as though determined to savor every last shudder your body had left to give. His huge hands stayed planted firmly on your hips, encouraging every final grind, every desperate roll, every jolting buck of your body against his waiting mouth until your muscles quivered so violently you scarcely recognized they belonged to you anymore.
Your head was spinning. Your thoughts had dissolved into little more than heat, pleasure…And Valko. Nothing else seemed capable of existing. You barely, barely managed to drift back toward reality before he reminded you all over again that the insatiable beast feasting on your pussy wasn’t merely a man. He was a werewolf. Untamed. Unchained. Hopelessly ruled by instincts far older than either of you.
The shift happened so impossibly fast your mind couldn’t even begin to follow it. The edges of your vision blurred as another shaky breath slipped from your lips, your body still trembling too hard to react. Before you could comprehend his speed, before you could even think to meet him where he’d already gone, he was gone. No longer beneath you. Already behind you. That horny beast had moved long before you ever realized you needed to run.
One heartbeat he was smiling up at you between your thighs. The next, powerful arms had already caught you.bHe whipped you around with effortless strength, your body yielding completely beneath the certainty of his movements. You scarcely had time to register the dizzying turn before he was guiding, no, pushing you back onto the mattress. Your sweaty head sank into the pillow he’d occupied only moments before, the lingering warmth he’d left behind barely noticeable beneath the rush of blood roaring through your ears.
The ceiling spun overhead. Your vision swam. The dim room blurred into streaks of shadow and moonlight, leaving you unable to focus on much of anything except fleeting flashes of glowing yellow cutting through the darkness. His hungry eyes seemed to leave molten trails in your vision, appearing here one moment and somewhere else the next, far too fast for your exhausted mind to track. Every movement carried that same impossible predator’s speed, that terrifying grace belonging to something born to hunt.
Then came the familiar kiss of cool metal. Before you even realized your hands had been lifted, hard steel circled your wrists once again. One cuff. Then the other. With quiet, decisive clicks, they fastened around you, spreading your arms apart until they were secured once more to the metal bed frame. The restraints held firm, cool against your flushed skin, leaving you breathless as the realization settled over you almost as quickly as they had. In the span of only a few heartbeats, the werewolf had reclaimed complete control, and you found yourself exactly where he’d decided his prey belonged.
“Look at you…” His voice rolled through you in a low, gravelly growl, the words muffled against the damp press of your cheek.
Before you could turn toward him, his huge hand engulfed your jaw, firm fingers curling around your face until your panting lips were helplessly puffed beneath his grip. The possessive hold stole what little composure you had left, and a fresh shiver raced through your body when the warmth of his tongue swept lazily along the side of your neck, lapping away the sheen of sweat gathered there. The touch was slow. Unhurried. Deliberate. Like a predator savoring the salt of its trembling prey instead of rushing to the feast.
You couldn’t stop shaking. His body radiated heat in overwhelming waves, the sheer size of him swallowing yours as he leaned over you. His broad frame cast you into complete shadow, blotting out the room until all you could truly feel was him. His warmth seeped into your skin, surrounded you, caged you, while his mouth wandered over the frantic flutter of your pulse. Every slow lick along your throat only reminded you how violently your heart was pounding beneath the thin barrier of skin, and judging by the pleased rumble building deep in his chest, he knew it too. He could taste your adrenaline. Taste your fear. Taste every frantic beat your body betrayed to him, and the realization made another delicious chill skate down your spine.
You swallowed hard. The movement didn’t escape him. His hand tightened around your jaw before tilting your chin farther aside, baring the vulnerable line of your throat to him with authority. You had nowhere to hide it. Nowhere to pull away. His breath washed hot across your skin as the hard graze of his fangs traced your neck, lingering there just long enough to make your pulse leap wildly beneath them.
“You’re so soft and tasty I could just sink my teeth into you till you squeak…”
The words settled deep inside you, dark and intoxicating. Your breath caught. Some irrational part of you wanted to squirm away. Another wanted to stay perfectly still. You didn’t know which instinct belonged to you anymore. Then Valko bit. Not with careful human restraint. With fangs. Sharp points gathered the delicate skin of your neck between powerful jaws before sinking in just enough to send a brilliant sting radiating through your body. It was unmistakably inhuman. Possessive. Primal. A deep, satisfied groan vibrated against your throat as he held you there, the sound reverberating through your skin and straight into your chest until your heart hammered so violently you thought it might burst free. Every tiny hair along your body stood on end, your nerves igniting all at once beneath the overwhelming certainty that the beast holding you wasn’t merely toying with you.
Your body reacted before your thoughts ever could. Your knees jerked sharply upward into his wide hips in a desperate, instinctive attempt to push him away, but it was hopeless. It felt almost laughable against the immovable wall of muscle pinning you beneath him. He barely seemed to notice the effort. Your wrists twisted frantically inside the cold metal restraints, straining until the cuffs bit into your skin, but there was nowhere to go. The steel held firm. The bed frame didn’t yield. Neither did he.
He never loosened his hold. You couldn’t fight him. You couldn’t move him.bYou couldn’t escape him. The realization sent another rush of adrenaline flooding through you, delicious fear blooming alongside the sting in your neck until the two sensations became impossible to separate. The pain was surreal, bright enough to steal your breath yet somehow beautiful all the same, a dizzying rush that left your thoughts scattering beneath the weight of it. Another helpless yelp escaped you as your sweaty spine arched clean off the mattress, your body bowing instinctively beneath the overwhelming sensation until your breasts pressed firmly into the hard, scorching heat of his naked chest, caught completely in the embrace of something far stronger, far wilder, and far hungrier than any man.
“You sound so beautiful…” The words left him in a husky breath against your throat, rich with satisfaction as he slowly released the stinging, throbbing bite he’d left behind, “mmph, pretty baby…”
The ache lingered, bright and intoxicating, before the warmth of his tongue returned to soothe it in long, deliberate strokes that sent fresh tremors through your body. He lingered over the mark with unmistakable possessiveness, tasting it, tending to it, savoring the place where his fangs had claimed you as you lay trembling beneath him. Every slow lap seemed to deepen the contradiction blooming inside your chest, that delicious mixture of soreness and comfort that only grew more overwhelming when paired with the low rumble vibrating through him.
“Makes the predatory instinct really kick into overdrive, y’know?”
His confession settled over you like velvet wrapped around steel.
Before you could answer, you felt the unmistakable kiss of cold metal once more. This time it circled your ankles. The steel closed around them with quiet certainty before another sharp clink echoed near the foot of the bed, links gliding smoothly into place around the frame. You scarcely had a heartbeat to wonder what he was doing before the chains tightened.
Your legs were drawn apart. Slowly. Relentlessly. Until they were spread impossibly wide beneath him. Held there. Rooted open by his evol with no room to hide, no chance to close your thighs, your body laid completely bare before the enormous werewolf looming above you. The vulnerability struck you with startling force. A delicious chill raced the length of your spine as your pulse hammered wildly against the fresh marks decorating your neck, every instinct inside you painfully aware of just how thoroughly the he had positioned his prey.
He inhaled. Deeply. Indulgently.bHis nose buried itself against your damp neck as he drew in the scent of your perspiring skin with obvious delight, and the pleased moan that escaped him resonated straight through your chest. The sound was rich with hunger, almost reverent in its appreciation, and you felt him swallow audibly afterward, as though merely breathing you in had left his mouth watering. The realization alone sent another rush of heat coursing through you.
Then his weight settled over your naked body. Not quite crushing. Claiming. His broad frame lowered until his warmth surrounded you completely, and the unmistakable bulge of his still-covered cock pressed firmly against your sensitive, wet pussy. He rolled his hips into you in one slow, deliberate grind, dragging that heated pressure over your swollen flesh until your breath hitched sharply. Every inch of friction reminded you just how vulnerable you were beneath him, spread open, restrained, marked, and held exactly where he wanted you.
“You smell divine,” he confessed.
His voice had changed. It sounded richer now, darker, almost decadent beneath the strain of his restraint, every word soaked in desire so deep you scarcely recognized it as the same playful voice that had teased you before tonight. His breathing came heavier as he spoke, each exhale warm against your skin while his lips wandered upward in an unhurried trail of soft, lingering kisses. They climbed your jaw one tender press at a time until they reached your ear. His palm slid lovingly against your opposite cheek. Large. Warm. He cupped your face and guided it toward him, gently smooshing your cheek against his as though he couldn’t bear even the smallest distance between your bodies.
“Wanna make you cum again…”
His hips rolled forward. His covered cock ground firmly against your clit, pulling another involuntary shiver through your body.
“And again…”
Another slow grind followed, heavier this time, his breath catching with a shaky gasp as his voice tightened beneath the mounting pressure of his own need.
“And again…”
The words barely escaped before instinct won. He couldn’t resist. His teeth found your earlobe, sinking into it with another sharp, possessive nip that drew a startled breath from your lips. He held you there only for a heartbeat before easing the bite, his mouth curling into a hungry smile against your skin. Every decadent promise he whispered seemed to feed something increasingly primal inside him, his grin widening with obvious satisfaction as though simply imagining it left him ravenous.
Another slow, deliberate grind of his hips emphasized every shameless word, his body refusing to let yours forget the weight pressing against your soaked pussy, “till your brain’s no better, no smarter, no more perfectly held together than chocolate pudding by the time you’re ready to get fucked right into my mattress springs…”
Your lower lip trembled uncontrollably. Your jaw clenched against a need so overwhelming, so impossibly consuming, that your mind struggled to put a name to it. Your pussy throbbed around an aching emptiness, clenching helplessly around nothing at all while your heart pounded so violently between your ears it nearly drowned out every coherent thought. His words wrapped themselves around your mind like velvet chains, tightening with every passing heartbeat until all you could feel was the feverish ache of wanting him.
And yet…Somehow…A tiny breath of relief slipped through. So small it almost made you laugh. Chocolate. Of all the things he could have compared your ruined brain to…Chocolate pudding. It was so unmistakably Valko that it pierced straight through the haze. He was still there. Your Valko. The man. The beast. Every piece of him existed together at once instead of replacing one another. The gentle warmth that had kissed you with impossible tenderness lived side by side with the savage hunger now pinning you helplessly beneath him. The polished man and the untamed werewolf weren’t fighting for control anymore; they were woven together, inseparable, each making the other feel more real.
When he finally lifted himself enough for you to see him properly, your breath caught all over again. His golden eyes still glowed with that eerie, inhuman light, molten against the dim silver of the bedroom. His pupils remained unnaturally deep, his handsome face softened only by the familiar lines you knew so well despite everything else that had changed. Even with the hidden side of him standing completely exposed now, even with instincts burning so openly beneath his skin, you knew him. You recognized him. No matter how frighteningly unfamiliar he appeared in that moment…He was still Valko.bYour heart melted with the realization even as it squeezed painfully beneath the delicious thrill of fear curling through your chest.
“You want it, Y/n?” His voice came quietly. Low. Almost gentle.
His hooded eyes searched your face with an intensity that made your pulse skip as his broad hand rose to you. His fingers spread through your damp hair in one slow rake, carefully brushing the sweaty strands back from your forehead and away from your face with surprising tenderness. The contrast nearly undid you. Those same hands capable of overpowering you so effortlessly now stroked your hair as though you were something impossibly precious. You nodded before you even realized you were moving. Earnestly. Desperately. Unable to hide the answer written across every inch of your face.
“Say you want me,” his lips curled into a teasing smirk, the sharp gleam of his fangs catching the moonlight as his eyes danced with familiar mischief despite everything primal simmering beneath them, “throw a wolf a little bone again, will ya?”
For one fleeting heartbeat…It was your Valko teasing you again. Then the smile disappeared. Completely. The change was so sudden it stole the air from your lungs. His expression hardened with devastating finality, the playful warmth draining from his face as something infinitely older settled into his gaze. The beast looked back at you with quiet certainty, and the abrupt shift sent a shiver racing through your restrained body. The emotional whiplash was almost as dizzying as the fear itself.
“I’ve only been dying to consummate my soul bond with my mate who enjoys dangling herself in front of me like a prize I’m fully willing to beg and whine for till I’m blue in the face and balls from howling for more, tasty girl…” He spoke the words lowly, the rough timbre of his voice vibrating through the narrow space between your bodies until they settled somewhere deep inside your chest.
Despite yourself…Despite the adrenaline still clawing its way up your spine…The smallest smile escaped you. It bloomed before you could stop it, born from pure enthrallment as you stared up at him. Every instinct your body possessed screamed that a giant predator loomed over you. Six foot two of muscle, glowing eyes, fangs, impossible strength, the weight of a werewolf who had already chased his prey into the corner and knew it. Your pulse thundered at the primitive warning echoing through every nerve. He terrified your instincts. He thrilled your heart. The contradiction was intoxicating. Your body knew fear. Your heart only knew Valko. That perfect, infuriating, devastatingly sexy son of a bitch.
“Yeah?” You challenged, the wicked grin spreading across your lips before you could think better of it, “beg harder.”
The effect was instantaneous. Shock swept across his face so completely that it almost looked cold. His glowing eyes widened, disbelief flashing openly across them as though your answer had reached right through every expectation he’d carried into this moment and shattered it. For one brief heartbeat, he simply stared at you.
“We’re genetically locked, aren’t we?” You continued, unable to stop yourself now that you’d started, “forced to obey biology, blah blah blah, woof woof woof, you said it yourself, didn’t you, Valko? Well, that makes you my bitch, doesn’t it? So make like one and finish licking your so-called prize clean till you’ve fully earned me. Then, you can have me on a silver—”
The rest of the sentence never made it out.bA sharp gasp tore from your throat instead. Your jaw fell open. Your spine arched violently off the mattress.bWithout the slightest warning, the thick intrusion of two of his fingers pushed deep into your slick pussy, stretching you open with a fullness that stole every coherent thought from your head. They were disgustingly thick, far broader than you’d been prepared for, forcing your body to accommodate them as they slid steadily inside. The sudden stretch burned just enough to make your breath hitch before melting into overwhelming pleasure, your walls instinctively tightening around the intrusion even as they continued yielding beneath his relentless push.
He grinned. God…He actually grinned. The expression spread slowly across his face as though he’d been waiting for exactly that reaction. His eyes smiled right along with his mouth, sharp fangs gleaming beneath the moonlight while he watched every tiny change in your expression with shameless satisfaction. He drank in your surprise, your broken gasp, the way your body betrayed you despite your bold words only moments earlier.
His fingers drove deeper.bSo deep you could feel the rough heel of his palm press firmly against you. Then they curled. The movement found that soft, mushy spot inside you with devastating precision, and your body answered before your mind ever had the chance. A helpless whine escaped your lips as pleasure crashed through you, your restrained wrists wrenching instinctively against the cold metal cuffs while your ankles jerked against the chains holding your legs spread so obscenely wide. Steel rattled against the bed frame as you struggled on pure reflex, every futile tug only reminding you how completely you were pinned open beneath him.
It wasn’t enough to move him. It wasn’t enough to stop him. Your struggles barely seemed to register against his impossible strength. The werewolf never faltered. The prey never escaped. And in that dizzying rush of pleasure, adrenaline, and humiliating surrender, the truth settled over you with startling clarity. You remembered who was actually in control.
“My my my, what a sharp little tongue you have!” The laugh that escaped him was rich with genuine delight, warm and utterly entertained despite the dangerous gleam burning behind his golden eyes.
He looked almost impossibly pleased by your defiance, as though every teasing challenge you threw at him only made his obsession deepen. All the while, his fingers continued exploring your insides with shameless patience, feeling every trembling reaction your body surrendered to him. Then they curled harder. The pressure pulled a helpless whine from your throat.
Your head lifted sharply from the pillow, your body chasing the sensation before you even realized you were moving. The distance between you disappeared until your forehead met his, stopping there with nowhere left to retreat. His face hovered over yours, his molten gaze swallowing you whole. Those glowing eyes searched every inch of your expression with quiet, predatory focus, so consuming that your own breath caught somewhere in your chest. You forgot to inhale. You could only stare back, swallowing thickly beneath the intensity of him.
“My goodness, Y/n…” He murmured, his voice lowering into something softer, somehow even more dangerous, “has anyone ever told you how maddeningly perfect you are? ’Cause I’ll tear any other bastard to shreds for hungering over my prize, if the answer’s yes…”
The words wrapped around your heart like claws. That impossibly possessive…Hopelessly lovesick…Completely unhinged, feral werewolf. The devotion in his voice somehow felt every bit as overwhelming as the hunger behind it, and for one fleeting heartbeat your mind scrambled for another clever remark. Another challenge. Another joke to throw back at him.
You never got the chance. He eased your head back into the pillow with effortless authority, guiding you down with his forehead pushing yours until your hair fanned across the sheets once more. Before you could gather another thought, his fingers began moving. Slowly at first. Then faster. Faster. Harder. Each thrust drove deeper than the last, his hand setting an uncompromising rhythm that left your body with no choice but to receive it. The wet sounds filling the room grew louder with every stroke, unmistakable now, slick and lewd as his fingers worked your pussy with relentless greed. You heard them just as clearly as he did.
So did he. You watched the corners of his mouth curl upward into a smug, thoroughly satisfied smile as he listened to the filthy rhythm he’d pulled from your body. The sound alone seemed to feed something hungry inside him, and the sight of his obvious pleasure only made your own pulse race harder. Every deep thrust stole another breath from your lungs until your eyes fluttered closed, rolling back beneath the mounting intensity.
“I’m marking every single last inch of you tonight,” he declared, his voice dropping into a low, possessive growl, “marking this pretty little wet pussy till the whole world knows you’re mine. Till you say it back again, over and over…”
God. The words struck somewhere impossibly deep inside you. They spread through your body like lightning beneath your skin, igniting every nerve until it felt impossible to separate the heat of his voice from the pleasure unraveling inside you. They were dark. Shameless. Feral. Spoken with the unwavering certainty of a hunter who had already decided exactly what belonged to him. You didn’t stand a chance against them. Not while he was touching you like this. Not while those thick fingers drove into your pussy with relentless precision, each thrust landing hard enough for the rough heel of his hand to smack wetly against your slick lips. The rhythm only intensified as he shifted upright onto his calves, using the new angle to push even deeper, his broad shoulders flexing with every deliberate stroke.
Then—God have mercy. His free hand settled gently over your lower stomach. The contrast nearly stole your breath. One hand relentlessly claiming your body from within. The other forcing it. His broad palm pressed down slowly, deliberately, bearing more of his weight against the place where your body swelled around his fingers. The pressure deepened with every measured push until it felt as though your insides were being gathered between the relentless thrusts inside you and the firm warmth of his hand above. The sensation built with startling intensity, heavy and overwhelming, tightening lower and lower inside your body until a cry burst helplessly from your lips.
Your spine arched sharply off the mattress. Your restrained body strained instinctively against the chains holding you open, your heart pounding wildly as your breathing dissolved into ragged gasps. Every nerve ending seemed to blaze beneath the impossible fullness, the pleasure gathering heavier and heavier inside you until it threatened to spill over all at once.
“Val—!” The broken plea tore from your throat as your entire body shook beneath him.
Your toes curled so tightly they ached, every muscle in your body drawing taut while pure instinct made you writhe against the metal shackles restraining you. The cold steel rattled sharply against the bed frame as your wrists twisted uselessly inside the cuffs and your ankles strained against the chains holding your legs spread helplessly apart. There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to squirm free. His strong hands held complete command over your body, pumping wave after wave of unbearable heat and dizzying pleasure through your pussy until every thought dissolved into nothing but him.
“O-oh my God! I’m—! Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck my life, that’s so good!” Your voice crescendoed between gasps, “Valko, it’s so good! It’s—!”
And then…He stopped. The sudden emptiness was almost violent. His fingers slipped completely free, leaving your pussy clenching desperately around absolutely nothing. Your walls fluttered helplessly, searching instinctively for the thick intrusion that had been filling you only a heartbeat before. The pleasure you’d been racing toward collapsed beneath you so suddenly it almost hurt. A rush of cold despair swept through your chest as you realized your orgasm had vanished in the same instant those magnificently thick fingers disappeared from inside you.
“No!” The gasp burst from your lips before you even realized you’d spoken.
Your head popped sharply off the pillow, hair clinging damply to your temples as your eyes flew wide in frantic disbelief. There he was, sitting back comfortably on his calves, looking entirely too relaxed for someone who had just stolen your climax away. He casually brought his fingers to his mouth, slowly licking your slickness from them as though savoring the taste, completely unbothered by the fact that he’d stopped mere seconds before pushing you over the edge. As though he hadn’t just robbed you of the orgasm that had been ready to tear through your body.
“Valko?!” You blurted, breath still coming in quick, uneven pants, “what the fuck are you doing?! Why did you stop?! Why?!”
He merely tilted his head. The expression that settled over his face was almost innocent. Almost.
“Oh,” he asked, his voice calm, “I’m sorry, did you wanna cum again for me?”
“Yes! Obviously!” The answer came so quickly you didn’t even have to think about it. You stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes, still struggling to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly while your pulse thundered in your ears, “w-what the hell is your problem?! I was so close to cumming just now! Are you insane?!”
The frustration bubbling inside you became too much to contain. With an exaggerated groan, you threw your head dramatically back against the pillow, the mattress bouncing faintly beneath you as your hair spread across the sheets.
“Valko!” You panted, still trying to steady your breathing, “I swear to God, I’ll—”
The threat never reached him. Before another word could leave your mouth, a sharp gasp ripped the air straight from your lungs. His fingers plunged deep into your pussy all over again. The sudden fullness made your entire body jolt violently against the restraints, the chains clinking loudly as your wrists and ankles instinctively pulled against them. He didn’t waste a second searching. Those thick fingers found that sensitive spot inside you immediately, rubbing firmly against it with infuriating precision, as though he’d already committed every inch of your body to memory. Your hips jumped on instinct, your back arching off the mattress as another helpless sound escaped your lips, every trace of your indignation dissolving beneath the overwhelming rush of pleasure. He watched every reaction. The twitch of your thighs. The way your breath caught. The way your body betrayed you almost instantly. His glowing eyes remained fixed on your face, quiet satisfaction settling behind them as though he’d expected nothing less.
Then, without breaking your gaze, he barked a single word, “beg.”
Your brain completely short-circuited. The lingering haze of pleasure still wrapped itself around every thought, leaving your mind sluggish and hopelessly delayed as you struggled to process what he’d just asked of you. Your body understood before your thoughts ever could, your pulse already racing, your pussy still aching with the memory of his fingers even as your mind searched desperately to catch up.
“W-wha?” The word came out breathless as you lifted your head from the pillow again, blinking up at him through the dizzy warmth clouding your vision.
He was already looking down at you. Already smirking. The expression settled across his face with quiet, predatory satisfaction, as though he’d expected exactly that reaction. Before you could gather another coherent thought, his fingers suddenly began moving again. Hard. The abrupt thrusts punched back into your pussy with devastating force, immediately stealing the breath from your lungs. Heat crashed through your body so quickly it was almost disorienting, the dizzy euphoria returning all at once as his relentless rhythm shook your entire body. A trembling whine escaped you without permission, your hips jolting helplessly beneath every powerful stroke while the chains rattled against the bed frame from the force of your involuntary movements.
“I said beg,” he commanded. The unmistakable edge had returned to his voice. It was darker now. Rougher.
His forearm visibly tensed with the effort, muscles flexing beneath bulging veins and flushed skin as he drove his fingers into your sensitive pussy again and again with uncompromising precision. Every thrust buried itself so deeply it felt as though your body might split apart around him, the mounting pleasure becoming almost unbearable as your walls clenched desperately around his thick fingers.
“I’m not the one chained down to the bed.”
Another hard thrust.
“You are.”
Oh, God. Oh, God in heaven. God, have mercy on you. Something about hearing him say it aloud shattered whatever composure you still had left. The reminder settled deep inside you with intoxicating certainty, and your pussy immediately squeezed around his fingers so tightly it almost hurt. Your body betrayed you without hesitation, your hips lifting instinctively off the mattress to chase his hand, chasing the impossible fullness, chasing the pleasure only he could give you despite the restraints digging into your wrists and ankles as they fought to hold you still.
It wasn’t enough. You couldn’t reach him. You couldn’t escape him. You couldn’t make him move any differently than he wanted to. As though sensing exactly how desperate you’d become, his free hand drifted down once more. His broad palm settled over your lower stomach. Then pressed. Firmly. The pressure pushed your hips back into the mattress, denying your futile attempt to meet his thrusts while forcing you to simply take them instead. The sensation bloomed through your body with startling intensity, somehow deeper than before, the fullness inside your pussy compressing beneath the weight of his hand until the pleasure became something almost overwhelming. A fresh ache spread through your core, heavier, sharper, making your back arch despite being pinned firmly against the bed.
“So be a good girl for me, if you want—”
“—Please!” The plea ripped out of you before he could even finish speaking.
It burst from somewhere deep inside your chest, raw with urgency as panic flared alongside your pleasure. You were so close. So impossibly, unbearably close that you could feel the climax gathering inside you like a storm, and terror gripped you at the thought that he might steal it away again before your pussy finally surrendered to everything he was pulling from your body.
“Please, Val, please,” you begged, your voice breaking between ragged breaths, “I’m so close it’s almost painful!”
“Please what?” He asked, his voice low and patient in a way that somehow made it even crueler, “use your words, c’mon. I don’t want any bullshit pride. I don’t wanna hear you sass me. I want nothin’ but obedience.”
The command wrapped itself around your racing heart, leaving nowhere for your pride to hide. His fingers never stopped, driving every coherent thought further from your grasp until all that remained was the unbearable ache building inside your body.
“P-please!” You cried, the plea breaking apart into a trembling sob before you could stop it. Your neck arched helplessly against the pillow, your thighs quaking over the mattress while your hands twisted uselessly inside the shackles, the cold steel refusing to let you reach for him no matter how desperately your body wanted to, “please make me cum, please! I wanna cum for you, please! Please! Oh my God! Val! Valk—!”
His name shattered on your tongue.bYour jaw fell open so completely that no other word escaped it. Only a scream.bYour head rolled all the way back against the pillow as blinding pleasure swallowed you whole, the world dissolving into brilliant white behind your tightly shut eyes. The pressure that had been coiling tighter and tighter inside your pussy finally gave way all at once, your entire body convulsing as the release crashed through you with overwhelming force. A broken cry tore from your throat as the heat burst free, your body trembling violently beneath the intensity of it while his relentless hand carried you through every wave without letting you drift away from it.
Your restrained body tossed helplessly against the mattress, wrists and ankles pulling instinctively against the chains that held you spread wide, the metal clinking and rattling beneath every involuntary movement. Tears spilled from the corners of your eyes as the pleasure became almost too much to bear, your breathing dissolving into ragged sobs while your body shook itself empty in his hands. Every nerve ending seemed to blaze at once, every muscle tightening and releasing in helpless succession as the overwhelming rush refused to let you come back down.
Somewhere through the haze, you felt his rhythm finally begin to ease. Only just enough. Only enough to let your lungs drag in one desperate, shaking breath. Mercy. Or what passed for mercy from him. Before you could even recover, you felt him move. His weight shifted smoothly between your sweating thighs, the mattress dipping beneath him as he repositioned with the same certainty he’d shown all night. The pause lasted only the briefest heartbeat before a familiar warmth met your oversensitive body once more. The broad, wet slap of his tongue found you again. A deep, shameless groan of satisfaction vibrated against you the instant he tasted you, rich with hungry approval, as though no amount of your pleasure could ever be enough to satisfy the ravenous devotion burning inside him.
“V-Val…” The pitiful little mewl that escaped your lips barely sounded like your own voice anymore.
It came out soft, breathless, and utterly defeated, stripped raw by everything he’d already done to you. You managed to lift your head from the pillow just enough to look at him through the dizzy haze clouding your vision, your body still trembling helplessly beneath the restraints. Valko was already watching you. His golden eyes never wavered from your face as he slowly raised one hand into your line of sight, silently showing you what he’d made. Metal shimmered and flowed over his palm before settling into the unmistakable shape of a cock, thick, smooth, and deliberately curved, forged entirely from his evol. Even before your exhausted mind caught up, your body understood exactly what it was. A dildo. One designed to reach that spot inside you even more mercilessly than his fingers had. He didn’t have to explain it. He simply held it there for you to see, his glowing gaze fixed on yours with quiet satisfaction, watching the realization spread across your face. He already knew what you’d finally accepted. This was defeat. Valko had won. You had lost. Miserably.
A strangled little cry caught in your throat as your head slowly settled back onto the pillow. You didn’t protest. You didn’t challenge him. You simply braced yourself, your heart pounding so violently you could feel it echoing against the fresh marks decorating your neck, your body already anticipating what was about to happen before he’d even touched you. His tongue rolled lazily from between his lips and planted itself firmly against your clit, broad and warm, claiming your attention there before his other hand moved. The cold metal pressed against your slick entrance, and then he drove it into your helpless pussy with relentless purpose, the rigid curve punching directly into that devastating spot inside you. The contrast between the icy metal filling you and the wet heat of his tongue on your clit ripped a helpless cry from your throat as he established a brutal rhythm, thrusting the curved toy into you with uncompromising precision while his mouth devoured every desperate twitch your body gave him.
“I think I like you better this way,” he growled, the words muffled against another sloppy slurp of your clit as his tongue greedily licked at you between each syllable.
He sounded almost drunk on the taste of you, delighting in every trembling reaction as he worked you relentlessly, refusing to let you recover before building you all the way back toward the edge again. Heat crashed through your body so quickly it almost made you dizzy, wave after wave of euphoria barreling into you until your muscles shook beneath the chains holding you spread open.
“Now tell me everything I’ve been dying to hear,” he growled again, his hungry smile brushing against your swollen clit before another eager lick followed, “make my fucking night, Y/n.”
The command sliced straight through the haze clouding your mind. Whatever pride you’d still possessed had long since melted away beneath his relentless attention, leaving only desperate honesty behind. You didn’t hesitate. You couldn’t.
“I want you so bad!” You admitted, the confession tearing from your chest as your voice echoed toward the ceiling above the noisy rhythm of his mouth and the relentless thrusting between your thighs.
Another violent surge of ecstasy seized your body before you could even catch your breath. Your back arched sharply off the mattress, every chain rattling as your restrained body convulsed beneath the mounting pleasure. The heat overtook you so completely your voice strained into another scream, your pussy fluttering uncontrollably around the curved metal as your clit jumped desperately against every flick of his tongue. The relentless rhythm shook you from the inside out, scattering every coherent thought until the truth spilled from your lips faster than you could even think to stop it, “I want you to fuck me! I w-wanna feel you shove your cock inside me! W-want you to, oh God, want you to make me your little chew toy! Want you to fuck me and fill me and—! A-and—!”
You could no longer speak. You could no longer think. Your mind had surrendered completely beneath the relentless onslaught of pleasure until feeling was the only thing left. You floated inside the scorching heat of your ecstasy, submitting to it with every trembling inch of your body, with every ragged breath, with every helpless twitch that no longer belonged to your own will. More than that…You were submitting to him. There was no room in your world anymore for pride, for coherent thought, for anything beyond Valko. He had consumed every corner of your awareness until your entire existence revolved around the ravenous werewolf feasting between your thighs with tireless devotion.
You lost count of how many times your body gave way for him. How many times another orgasm tore through you. How many times your pussy gushed helplessly beneath his relentless mouth while he patiently coached you through each overwhelming wave, praising every desperate cry, every involuntary tremble, every helpless surrender. His voice wrapped around you like another pair of hands, encouraging you through pleasure so blinding it seemed to ignite every nerve in your body all at once. Again and again, ecstasy struck with such violent intensity that you couldn’t keep still even if you’d wanted to. Your body writhed with a mind of its own, shaking against the soaked sheets while every chain, every muscle, every breath surrendered to sensations far greater than yourself.
Sweat covered you from head to toe. Your skin gleamed. Your breathing came in broken, desperate gasps.nYour head spun so completely that time itself ceased to exist. Reality unraveled somewhere far beyond the bedroom. Space blurred into nothing. Every relentless orgasm he coaxed from you with his restless tongue and tireless hand pumping the curved metal dildo left you more hopelessly enslaved to your pleasure than the last. Your thoughts dissolved one by one until even the simplest truths escaped you. You couldn’t remember who you were. You couldn’t remember where you were. You couldn’t even remember your own name. It felt as though you’d ascended somewhere impossibly distant with the divine beast worshipping and devouring your pussy below you, the enormous wolf drinking every trembling piece of you as though he intended to feast on your very soul until nothing remained but bliss.
Only when he finally seemed satisfied did the relentless rhythm begin to fade. His mouth lingered. Not to take.bBut to appreciate. Soft, lingering kisses were pressed against your dripping thighs, each one almost reverent after the overwhelming hunger that had preceded them. They felt like quiet praise, like gratitude offered to the body he’d spent so long reducing to nothing but trembling pleasure. By then you no longer possessed the strength to react. Your body collapsed into the wet blankets beneath you, impossibly heavy, utterly boneless, sinking so completely into the soaked bedding that you could no longer tell where your own skin ended and the rumpled sheets began.
Everything around you drifted into distant static. You barely registered him lifting away. Barely noticed him wiping the slickness from his face. The quiet rustle of fabric never reached your exhausted mind as he slipped his briefs off. Even the familiar sound of metal dissolving from around your wrists and ankles escaped your awareness entirely. The restraints disappeared without your mind ever acknowledging they were gone.
For a brief, floating moment, there was only emptiness. Then your pussy fluttered around nothing at all. The sudden absence pulled the smallest flicker of awareness back into you, and almost as quickly as the crushing exhaustion settled over your body, another entirely different heat bloomed in its place. Fresh want flooded through you, hot and immediate, desire spreading through your limbs with startling urgency until your exhausted body craved only one thing. Valko. The need for him returned as naturally as breathing. Before you could even gather enough strength to lift your head and search for him, he was already there. Just as urgent. Just as unfinished. Just as desperately thirsty for you as you were for him.
“C’mere,” he said lowly, his voice wrapping around you with authority as he gathered you into his arms before you could even think to move on your own.
There wasn’t the slightest trace of fatigue in him. Not after everything he’d just done to you. His body still felt impossibly powerful beneath your hands, every inch of his hot skin practically humming like a live wire as though the beast inside him had only grown hungrier. With infuriating ease, he lifted you straight out of your delirium and settled your back atop his broad chest while reclining comfortably against a pair of pillows behind him. His heartbeat pounded steadily beneath your head, strong, unwavering, completely unlike your own, which still refused to slow.
“You didn’t think we were finished yet, right?” He murmured, a smile tugging at his voice, “no, no, no, no, no…I still haven’t even fucked you. We’ve only just begun. I’m not letting you tap out on me yet. Not before I get my fill of this perfect little pussy…”
Every word sent another wave of goosebumps cascading across your overheated skin. Before you could even catch your breath, his enormous hands wrapped around your legs, completely engulfing them as though they weighed nothing at all. He hoisted them effortlessly into the air, folding your body with unwavering confidence until your knees rested high against your shoulders. His forearms slid inside your legs, pressing firmly against your inner calves as he guided them farther downward, testing the limits of your flexibility with calm, deliberate certainty. You barely had time to register the stretch before his hands disappeared behind you, large fingers weaving together into a secure cradle beneath your head and neck. The hold was inescapable, supportive and unyielding all at once, drawing your upper body forward until you were completely folded in his arms.
Oh God. Oh, good God. Only then did you understand why he’d positioned you that way. The posture curved your neck forward just enough that your own body became impossible to look away from. Your pulse, which had only just begun to settle, immediately thundered all over again as your eyes followed the line of yourself downward. Your gleaming pussy was laid completely bare toward the ceiling, every inch of you exposed by the way he’d folded and held you, unable to hide even if you’d wanted to. You saw the powerful cage of his veined, gleaming arms wrapped securely around you, the effortless way he kept you folded like a fucking pretzel against his chest, and a delicious chill swept through you at just how small you suddenly felt in comparison. There was no mistaking the difference between your bodies now. He surrounded you. Held you. Completely overpowered you without so much as looking strained, and the realization tightened something low in your belly as your heart pounded against your ribs.
Then your eyes dropped just a little farther. And you saw him…For the first time. His cock rested heavily against his groin while he spread and bent his long, powerful legs apart beneath you, quietly situating himself, quietly situating you, every subtle adjustment accompanied by the steady thud of his heart reverberating through your upper back. The sight stole the breath straight from your lungs. He was huge. Frighteningly huge. You’d always suspected it. Every time the two of you had ended up tangled together half-naked in his bed, kissing until neither of you could think straight, you’d caught glimpses that hinted at it. But hints hadn’t prepared you for reality. Nothing could have. It looked unreal. Almost impossible.
Your mind struggled to make sense of what you were seeing, your thoughts slowing to a crawl as your gaze remained hopelessly fixed on him. A delicious knot of fear tightened in your chest, not the kind that made you want to run, but the kind that left your pulse fluttering with helpless anticipation. The sheer size of him was enough to make your body instinctively tense, your imagination racing ahead before you could stop it. You weren’t even sure you could wrap your hand around him. The thought alone left you staring in breathless disbelief.
“I want you to watch,” he breathed beneath you, his voice low and rough against the heated silence between your bodies. Restless energy rolled through him as his hips gave a small, impatient buck beneath you, the sudden movement bouncing your dangling feet in the air and reminding you all over again of just how much barely restrained hunger still coiled inside him, “so grab my cock and pray it fits…C’mon. Stuff yourself full, pretty girl.”
The invitation sent another rush of anticipation through you before you even realized your hand had begun reaching for him. Your fingers trembled as you stretched downward, trying to obey, trying to wrap your hand around him just as he’d asked, but your body was so completely folded and secured inside the powerful cage of his arms that you simply couldn’t reach. He was too big. His chest was too broad beneath you. His frame was too tall, too overwhelming, every inch of him swallowing yours until no matter how desperately you strained, your fingertips fell frustratingly short of his cock. A soft laugh escaped him.
“Oh, no,” he teased with infuriating sweetness, his grin widening as he watched you struggle, “d’aww, Little Red’s too tiny and helpless…”
His enormous hand caught yours before you could keep reaching, guiding it instead to help keep one of your legs propped high while he calmly reached down with his free hand. Your eyes remained helplessly fixed on him as he wrapped his own fingers around his cock with complete confidence, stroking himself only enough to guide it where he wanted it while you watched every deliberate movement.
“You want the big bad wolf to help you?” He breathed hotly.
“Mhmm!” The answer came immediately.
You nodded eagerly against the steady support of the hand cradling the back of your head, your toes curling uncontrollably as anticipation tightened lower and lower inside your belly. You couldn’t look away. You watched him line the thick length of his cock up with your entrance, your pulse pounding harder with every second that passed. He let out an exaggerated little gasp.
“Oh, yeah?” His lips curled into a wicked smile, amusement and hunger blending together, “you mean, you willingly wanna get ravaged down to the bone?”
The words had barely left his mouth before his hips rolled upward beneath you. At the same time, the arm supporting your leg returned fully to its place, joining his other hand behind your head once again. His broad forearms folded you even tighter against yourself, gently but inexorably drawing your head farther forward until your view was completely unobstructed. There was nowhere else to look. He made sure of it. Every inch of your attention was forced downward toward the place where his cock now rested against your battered, oversensitive core. Then he pushed. The broad head stretched your entrance taut, pressing insistently against the slick, swollen resistance before beginning to work its way inside.
“I do!” You whined, the confession spilling out between trembling breaths as pleasure and pain tangled together so completely you could no longer separate one from the other. You drew your lower lip between your teeth, biting down hard enough to muffle another helpless little mewl while he continued easing forward with patient, relentless pressure. His cock forced your pussy to open around him inch by inch, every slow advance stretching you wider, fuller, until the thick intrusion consumed your attention entirely. The sensation was overwhelming, deliciously intense, your body quivering around him as he steadily filled the tight confines of your pussy with an unhurried confidence that left you breathless, “mmm!”
Your lower lip trembled uncontrollably as fresh tears gathered along your lashes, your eyes watering all over again while you helplessly watched the impossible sight unfolding beneath you. Held securely in the powerful cradle of his arms, your body had nowhere to turn, nowhere to hide, nowhere to look except directly at your own spread-open pussy as it slowly yielded around him. Inch by inch, it took his cock as though it had always belonged there, the image so intimate, so overwhelming, that it stole every coherent thought from your mind. You heard the deep, satisfied moan that rumbled from his chest as he eased his hips upward beneath you, savoring every fraction of your body’s surrender, every measured push that seemed intent on dismantling the very last piece of resistance you had left.
It felt like the slow destruction of your final wall. Your last emotional barrier. Every careful thrust carried him deeper until the realization settled over you with breathtaking certainty. You were his now, claimed, and you were watching it happen with your own eyes. There wasn’t a single place left to run. Not a single corner of yourself left to hide behind. Trapped within the overwhelming strength of his embrace, you could only feel as his painfully thick cock made its home inside your slippery, wet pussy, burrowing deeper with relentless patience, stretching you wider with every slow advance until your body finally accepted every last inch of him. The fullness bordered on unbearable, your breath catching with each measured movement while your pussy clung tightly around him, yielding only because he refused to let it do anything else.
It was so unbelievably hot. So overwhelmingly, undeniably hot that your mouth filled with saliva before you even realized it, your throat working around a helpless swallow as you watched him openly claim you. There was nothing hurried about the way he took you. Every inch was deliberate. Possessive. Patient. He looked as though he intended to memorize the sight forever, and something about that quiet certainty sent another shiver racing through your body.
“Oh my God, you fit like a glove, Y/n…” His voice emerged low and taut beneath you, your name tightening in his throat with unmistakable satisfaction. You could hear the smile woven through every word, hear the raw delight coloring his deep voice as he basked in the warmth surrounding him. He lingered there, slowly drawing his hips back only the smallest amount before pressing forward again, gently working along that final inch as though emphasizing the deepest place he’d claimed inside you, unwilling to let either of you forget exactly where he was, “you’re not leaving my room tonight…”
Then he thrust. Your entire body jolted violently as his hips suddenly slammed upward beneath you, driving his cock so deep into your pussy that every thought vanished beneath the sheer force of it. The impact stole the air from your lungs, instinct wrenching your hands forward until your fingers clutched desperately at his elbows in search of some impossible semblance of balance. It didn’t help. Nothing could. His enormous body never wavered beneath you, his strength effortlessly supporting both your weight and his own as his balls slapped firmly against your stretched-open folds, your creamy slick immediately trailing between your bodies in glistening strands that webbed from your pussy to the warm olive skin of his groin.
“Shit…” He cursed, the sound escaping somewhere behind you, beneath you, above you, surrounding you completely as though it echoed from every part of him at once.
His arms flexed around your folded body, hard muscle tightening along your legs and behind your neck with unmistakable intent, every cord of strength gathering as though the beast inside him had finally stopped pretending to be patient. Then another thrust followed, harder than the last, a louder moan spilling from his chest with open delight as your own tight little whine broke helplessly against it. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t even jolt away from the impact. His iron grip held you exactly where he wanted you, leaving your body no choice but to receive every inch of him.
“Pretty baby…All your teasing and look at you now, getting your sloppy little hole destroyed by your supposed bitch, right? How ironic…”
The words barely reached your ears before he abandoned every shred of restraint. The pace exploded. Your jaw couldn’t even fall open in the way he’d folded you, your neck still curved forward by the secure cradle of his powerful arms, when Valko began fucking you with breathtaking aggression. His cock slammed the breath clean out of your lungs over and over again, each brutal piston driving so deeply into your pussy that it scattered whatever pathetic fragments of logic still lingered inside your feverish mind. He wasn’t making love to you anymore. He was fucking you with savage, desperate hunger, like something ancient and primal had finally slipped free beneath his polished composure.
Every thrust drove upward from below with relentless force, and you felt everything. Every powerful muscle rippling beneath your body. Every flex of his hips. Every tightening of his abdomen. Every thick bulge of his cock forcing your slick little pussy to stretch wider around him before plunging impossibly deep again. The violence of his rhythm shook your entire body with every upward slam, leaving you trembling uncontrollably while he pounded into you with the desperate intensity of a starving predator finally devouring the meal he’d spent so long craving.
And you couldn’t stop watching. He’d made sure of that. Your own body remained folded forward, your eyes fixed helplessly on the obscene sight beneath you from the best possible angle as his magnificent, veiny cock disappeared into your pussy again and again. Your swollen little hole stretched into nothing more than a slick, trembling sleeve wrapped desperately around his thick shaft, every merciless thrust coating him with more of your creamy slick until it gleamed across his skin in the dim moon light of the room. The sight was so filthy. So breathtakingly beautiful. So passionately obscene that your fluttering eyes refused to look anywhere else. Every frantic plunge painted another picture of him claiming you completely, and the wet sounds filling the room only made it worse.
Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!
Each violent impact echoed through the bedroom as his heavy balls struck against your soaked folds, bouncing inside their sack with every needy slam of his hips while your insides squeezed him tighter and tighter, clinging greedily to every inch of his cock as though your own body had become just as possessive of him.
Then you felt his grip change. His hands slowly released from behind your head, leaving your neck suspended for only the briefest instant before those enormous palms slid around your throat instead. His fingers spread across the sides of your neck with possessive certainty, not enough to interrupt the relentless rhythm of his thrusts, only enough to hold you, to remind you exactly whose hands surrounded you while he continued pounding your pussy with soul-deep devotion.
“You’re made for me,” he growled, his deep voice thick with overwhelming ecstasy, “I’m made for you…We’re perfect for each other, don’t you think?”
Oh God. Oh, good Lord in heaven. He was then squeezing you by the neck while he fucked you like that. The realization shattered something inside you, and another cry escaped before you could stop it, half of you pleading in completely useless desperation, the other half melting beneath the deliciously hellish, animalistic way he claimed every inch of you as though instinct itself demanded it.
“Y-yeah!” You choked out, digging your nails into his elbows until they left crescent shaped indents.
Nothing compared to this. Not the biting. Not the talk of destined mates. Not fate. Not destiny. Every romantic fantasy you’d ever entertained paled beside the overwhelming reality of Valko absolutely destroying your pussy beneath you, his relentless cock driving into you with worship and possession all at once until it felt as though he was devouring you from the inside out. Folded helplessly in the embrace of his much larger body, your throat completely encircled by his huge hands while he fucked you with breathtaking hunger, you couldn’t have felt smaller if you’d tried. The delicious contrast only drove you deeper into surrender, your body yielding completely as though you truly existed for nothing more than to become his own personal little chew toy, something precious for the great wolf to keep between his fangs after he’d finished devouring every last morsel of you. In his arms, beneath his body, wrapped in his overwhelming strength, you surrendered to him completely.
“Who owns you, Y/n?” He growled behind you, his voice climbing higher and rougher with primal delight as his hips continued pistoning relentlessly into you. Every savage thrust drove his cock deeper into your poor, overstimulated pussy, his entire body moving beneath yours with the unstoppable rhythm of a beast that had finally claimed its soul-bonded mate. The words weren’t merely a question. They were a command, a claim, an instinct demanding to be answered as his powerful hands held you exactly where he wanted you, “say it, say it, say it—”
“—You own me!” You shouted over him before he could finish, your voice breaking into a desperate cry as your body rattled helplessly within the overwhelming strength of his grip, your nails raking at his damp forearms. Every brutal drive of his thick cock bullied your aching insides until you could do nothing except clamp down around him, your fluttering walls squeezing desperately over every hard inch invading you. The delicious pressure building deep inside your body grew heavier with every thrust, coiling tighter and tighter at that devastating angle until it felt ready to swallow you whole, “Valko owns me! Val—! I’m—! Don’t stop fucking me, don’t stop fucking me, please, please, please!”
The louder your pleas became, the more desperately your body betrayed you. Every frantic word only seemed to feed the impossible wave surging through your core, the pressure climbing higher until it became almost unbearable. Then it broke. It crashed into you with breathtaking violence.
One heartbeat you were hanging on by the thinnest thread, and the next you shattered completely. A broken sob tore from your throat as tears blurred your vision again and drool slipped helplessly past your agape lips, every muscle in your body surrendering at once. Your pussy fluttered uncontrollably around his cock while your entire body convulsed uselessly inside the iron embrace of his much larger frame, unable to escape, unable to do anything except endure the overwhelming force of your own pleasure.
Through your trembling, tear-filled vision you watched the obscene, magnificent sight unfolding beneath you as ecstasy utterly destroyed you from the inside out. Decadent heat exploded through your battered insides before bursting free in wild sprays, your orgasm gushing uncontrollably around his cock and splashing across both of your bodies and soiling the bed in desperate pulses. Every brutal slam of his hips chased that soaking warmth greedily, his cock driving back into your slick little pussy as your release erupted from you again and again like a broken hose, each forceful thrust wringing another helpless gush from your trembling body.
“Cum for me!” He panted, the command dissolving into a growl as pleasure overtook him just as completely. His breathing turned ragged, every word strained through clenched teeth while he relentlessly fucked you through your orgasm, greedily chasing that breathtaking high right alongside you as though it threatened to consume him whole. His voice trembled beneath the sheer force of it, thick with ecstasy and desperate need, “again! Again! Good girl, Y/n! Say you want me to fill you, say you want me to breed you! S-say you want my cum, baby, I needa hear it to finish! I’m s-so close!”
“I want every last drop!” You cried, the words breaking apart beneath another helpless sob that tore from deep inside your chest.
Your body had long since ceased belonging to you. Your mind was feverish, overheated, hopelessly intoxicated by wave after wave of pleasure until reason had completely dissolved beneath the overwhelming need to make him feel as incredible as he’d made you feel. You would’ve said anything. Absolutely anything. Every thought, every instinct, every desperate plea revolved around pleasing the man beneath you, giving yourself to that astonishing, beloved wolf as completely as he had devoted himself to you. He kept stuffing your trembling body with so much unbearable ecstasy that it had nowhere left to go except spilling from you in uncontrollable bursts, soaking your entwined bodies and the bed beneath you.
“Breed me, fill me, let me have it, give it to me!” You mindlessly screamed, “I want it, Val—”
“—Y/n!” Your name exploded from his lungs as he shattered beneath you. His hips slammed upward with one final, desperate drive, burying himself impossibly deep inside your trembling body as the force of his climax ripped through him. Every ragged breath came apart around your name, each cry louder than the last, every syllable trembling with overwhelming relief as though he couldn’t stop saying it, “Y/n…Y/n…Y/n! Oh! Oh my God…Oh my God…I’m cumming so much…I…F-fuck…”
You felt everything. You felt the powerful pulse travel through him before it reached you, the unmistakable throb at the base of his cock as his release surged forward in powerful waves. Heat flooded deep inside your body, each thick pulse spilling farther into you than the last while his cock continued to twitch within your tight, exhausted pussy. You watched, utterly transfixed, as his body betrayed every ounce of the pleasure overtaking him, his heavy balls drawing tight and spasming with each successive release. The sight rooted itself into your memory, every trembling breath, every helpless shudder, every desperate cry becoming something you knew you’d never forget.
Only then did the relentless strength holding you begin to melt away. His powerful arms loosened around your folded body. The large hands that had so firmly encircled your neck gradually slipped free, trembling with exhaustion as they fell away from your skin.
For the first time since he’d gathered you into that impossible position, you were released from the wonderful prison of his strength, from the relentless force of his desire, from the overwhelming biological hunger that had driven him to claim you so completely. Your body immediately gave in to gravity. Your head tipped backward until it rested above the broad warmth of his chest, your vision swimming while your thoughts drifted aimlessly through the lingering haze of bliss. Your sore, trembling legs could no longer support themselves and slowly relaxed apart, draping limply across his powerful thighs beneath you.
He was shaking.bThe great body that had moments ago moved with such unstoppable power now trembled like a leaf beneath you, every muscle quivering from the sheer intensity of everything he’d poured into you. Sweat glistened across his overheated skin, dampening the planes of his chest and shoulders until it caught the silver light surrounding the two of you. It took him several long breaths before he even found the strength to move again, and when he finally did, the change in him was impossibly gentle. His heavy arms lifted only enough to drape themselves over your stomach and breasts after wiping away your tears, gathering you close without an ounce of the relentless urgency that had consumed him moments before. Beneath you, his broad chest rose and fell with every deep, desperate breath as he struggled to steady himself. His cock remained nestled inside you even as it gradually softened, neither of you rushing to break the intimate connection, while his thumbs, still trembling from the force of his climax, slowly began stroking over your skin with quiet, tired affection.
“Y-you’re perfect…” He breathed beneath you, his voice barely more than a tired whisper now, every word softened by complete, overwhelming contentment.
His entire body still trembled faintly beneath yours, but the fierce hunger that had consumed him moments ago had melted into something achingly gentle. He held you as though he couldn’t bear the thought of even an inch of space separating the two of you, his broad arms remaining draped protectively over your stomach and chest while his thumbs continued their slow, absentminded strokes across your slick skin.
“You’re so perfect, Y/n…” His words were almost dreamy, as though he was simply saying aloud whatever his exhausted heart happened to be thinking. You could hear the gleeful smile in his exhausted voice, “y-you, believe me now? About fated mates? Soul bonds? Biology and all that, blah blah blah, woof woof woof…”
A weak laugh escaped you before you could stop it, the sound bubbling up through the haze of your exhaustion as warmth spread through your chest. The ceiling above still swam gently in your vision, but you let your eyes drift closed instead, smiling to yourself as you searched for his hands with your own. Your fingers found them easily, sliding over his large palms where they rested against your damp body, instinctively lacing with his as though neither of you wanted to let go just yet.
“I dunno,” you murmured, amusement and quiet affection coloring your voice as you gently squeezed his fingers, “you might have to show me again for good measure. You know…In case I ever doubt it, considering I’m human and all…Wow, thank God for birth control.”
Valko’s laugh burst from his chest with genuine, delighted surprise, rich and warm enough that you felt it rumble through the body beneath you before you heard it. Happiness radiated from him so openly it was almost tangible. His arms instinctively tightened around you in another affectionate squeeze, as though his first reaction to joy was simply to hold you closer.
“Mmm,” he hummed happily, his smile impossible to hide from his tone, “don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re an expert in werewolf knowledge by sunrise.”
You laughed with him, unable to help yourself, “won’t you be tired by then, wolf boy?”
“Never,” the answer came immediately, carrying all the quiet certainty in the world.
He hugged you again, not because you were slipping away, not because he needed to keep you there, but simply because he seemed incapable of resisting another excuse to touch you. His chin settled comfortably atop your head, nuzzling there with an absent little rub that felt less like a conscious gesture and more like instinct. Every few moments he seemed compelled to pull you just a little closer, as though confirming you were still there, still warm, still safely within his arms.
“I doubt you’ll ever fully understand our biology,” he admitted softly, his voice carrying that familiar teasing smile again, “but…As long as you stay, as long as you care, and you try, I’m a happy camper.”
You smiled despite yourself. A happy camper. The phrase was so unmistakably Valko that another quiet laugh threatened to escape you. It was impossible to reconcile the devastatingly primal werewolf who had so thoroughly claimed you only moments ago with the man now absentmindedly cuddling you like he wanted to spend the rest of the night wrapped around you. Yet somehow, both were equally him.
You couldn’t truly imagine what it felt like. You were human. The idea of recognizing the person you were meant to spend forever with simply from their scent alone belonged in fairy tales, something too extraordinary for your own world to explain. But for Valko, none of it had ever been fantasy. Every earnest explanation he’d stumbled through suddenly carried a different weight now. Every awkward attempt to describe instinct, biology, destiny, and mates made perfect sense after everything you’d experienced together. You believed him now more completely than ever before.
Against every natural expectation, against centuries of instinct that should have placed you on opposite sides of the world, fate had somehow brought a human and a werewolf together anyway. And the longer you knew him, the less impossible it seemed.bThe more pieces of yourselves you uncovered, the more naturally they fit together.nThe more time you spent wrapped up in his impossible warmth, surrounded by his endless affection, held by someone who seemed physically incapable of going more than a few seconds without touching you, squeezing your hand, nuzzling your hair, or pulling you impossibly close…The more you found yourself falling hopelessly for the enemy who somehow felt more like home than anywhere else ever had. Home. Warmth. Chocolate pudding.
Eventually, the crushing weight of exhaustion began winning the battle. Every muscle in your body melted further into him until you felt yourself drifting dangerously close to sleep right there in the middle of the tangled sheets, your mind floating somewhere pleasantly distant as the lingering warmth of everything the two of you had shared wrapped around you like a heavy blanket. Valko noticed long before you did. With the same endless patience he’d shown once the intensity had finally subsided, he gently helped you roll off of him, careful with every movement as though you were something impossibly precious in his arms. He disappeared only long enough to fetch a towel, spreading it beneath you before easing you back down with tender hands. Slowly, dribble by warm dribble, his seed began slipping back out of your thoroughly satisfied body, trickling between your thighs onto the towel below while you lay there too blissfully spent to care about anything except the comforting warmth surrounding you. Before stepping away from the bed again, he leaned down to press a lingering kiss against your lips, his thumb brushing affectionately across your cheek in one last reassuring caress that seemed almost reluctant to leave you for even a moment, making sure every tear was gone.
Your head still spun so fiercely that time lost all meaning again. You barely registered him returning. You never noticed the mattress dip beneath his weight or the familiar warmth filling the space beside you once more. Everything blurred together into a pleasant haze until, with infinite care, he began guiding you upright. Strong, steady hands supported you through every sluggish movement, helping you sit on the towel before easing your back against the broad firmness of his chest. He settled comfortably behind you, his body becoming a living backrest, his long, powerful legs framing yours on either side as though instinctively cocooning you in his embrace. Even now, after everything, he couldn’t seem to resist keeping you tucked safely against him, his warmth surrounding you from every direction.
You were so thoroughly dazed that when his large hand appeared in front of you holding a milk half pint with a little bendy straw, your mind never even questioned it. He nudged the straw gently against your lips. You didn’t think. You simply drank. The cool liquid flowed across your tongue before your sluggish thoughts finally caught up, the sweet, sugary taste blooming pleasantly in your mouth as icy relief slid down your overheated throat. Only then did you realize it was chocolate milk. The chilled sweetness felt heavenly after everything, soothing the fever burning through your body until you couldn’t help taking another slow sip.
“Poor baby…” He cooed softly from behind you, his voice overflowing with the same affectionate tenderness that always seemed to follow whenever his fierce instincts finally settled. His free hand slipped beneath your chin, gently cradling it so you didn’t have to hold your own head upright anymore, quietly taking even that tiny burden away from you. His thumb stroked slow, lazy circles across your fevered cheek with absentminded devotion, each touch feather-light, as though he couldn’t stop petting you now that he finally had you resting safely in his arms, “here, have some awoo milk. Lord knows you need it…”
You barely managed a tiny hum as you swallowed. Sucked. Swallowed. Sucked again. Swallowed again. Your body seemed to operate entirely on instinct now, your mind still floating somewhere between sleep and wakefulness while Valko patiently held the little carton for you. You felt the quiet vibration of his laughter against your back before you fully heard it, warm and impossibly fond, and even through the haze clouding your thoughts, you could tell he was smiling as he watched you obediently drink every last sip.
“I turned the AC higher for you. I dunno if you heard me,” he murmured, his voice carrying the pleasant rasp of complete exhaustion, “made it nice and cool for us…”
You answered with nothing more than another sleepy little hum, the sound muffled around the bendy straw before you resumed drinking without another thought. The chilled sweetness continued soothing the lingering heat inside you, and when only the last few mouthfuls remained, you felt the carton gently crinkle between his fingers as he carefully squeezed it, helping every final drop reach the straw instead of letting it go to waste.
“There you go,” he praised softly once you’d emptied it completely, “nice job…”
He eased the straw from between your lips with gentle care before leaning sideways to toss the empty carton into the small trash can beneath his bedside table, immediately returning to you again. He never seemed content being farther away than absolutely necessary. A tender kiss settled against the crown of your head, lingering there just long enough to make warmth bloom through your chest.
“Atta girl…” He whispered, his smile practically audible, “God, you did so good. I’m so proud. My little tough cookie…”
Another kiss followed. Then another affectionate nuzzle. His nose brushed through your hair as though he simply couldn’t stop himself, his cheek lingering against the top of your head while he breathed you in with quiet contentment, holding you close simply because holding you close seemed as natural as breathing.
A helpless little giggle bubbled out of you. It wasn’t just his words. It wasn’t just the praise. It was him. The endless affection that seemed to spill from him without restraint warmed you from the inside out, chasing away the lingering ache until you felt almost refreshed despite how thoroughly spent you remained. Your body no longer felt feverishly overwhelmed, but your vision still swam ever so slightly, your thoughts drifting lazily through something as thick and slow as molasses. Blinking heavily, you turned just enough within the shelter of his embrace to look back up at him.
The first thing you noticed was his eyes. Their eerie glow was gone. The fierce, predatory brilliance that had burned so intensely only moments ago had faded into something soft and unmistakably gentle. His auburn hair was hopelessly mussed, a few damp strands clinging messily against his forehead from sweat. His fluffy wolf ears had drooped low against his head, practically asleep themselves, and the flush still coloring his handsome face made him look wonderfully disheveled. His skin glistened faintly in the cool air while he met your gaze with the fondest smile you’d ever seen.
He looked so…Human. Adorably, impossibly human. The same werewolf who had overwhelmed you so completely now held you with nothing but tenderness, his strong arms wrapping securely around your middle as though he’d decided you belonged there forever. He nestled against your temple with quiet contentment, pressing another soft kiss there before simply resting his forehead against you. His enormous tail lazily curled across both of your laps, wrapping the two of you together beneath its thick, fluffy warmth as though even it wanted to cuddle you. The unexpected sensation coaxed another laugh from your lips while your hands instinctively settled over his damp forearms, gently holding them where they embraced you, tracing the roughened little welts your nails had left behind. You made a mental note to fetch his first aid kit later and tend to him, not just let him tend to you.
“Was I too much?” He asked quietly after a comfortable silence, his voice suddenly carrying an unmistakable note of uncertainty, “too…Intense? Anything like that? Y’know, you can always tell me if—”
“—Valko,” you interrupted gently, smiling before he could finish.
“Mm?” He hummed, immediately abandoning his worries to reach up and carefully smooth a loose strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear with absentminded tenderness.
Your own hand lifted toward him. Without thinking, your fingertips found that familiar little spot tucked beneath his chin, and you began scratching it gently. The reaction was immediate. His entire body seemed to melt. A blissful sigh escaped him as his eyes fluttered half closed, all the lingering tension draining straight out of his shoulders. His tired wolf ears slowly lifted from the damp mess of his hair until they perked upright again, and out of the corner of your eye you caught the unmistakable swish of his heavy tail beginning to wag against your legs with slow, contented sweeps. You couldn’t help smiling wider.
“Don’t ever change,” you whispered warmly as your fingers continued scratching beneath his chin, watching the giant werewolf practically lean his entire weight into your hand like an oversized, affection-starved puppy desperate for more, “I meant what I said. You’re perfect just the way you are, hun…”
Maybe destiny really was stranger than fiction. Maybe soulmates really did exist. Or maybe the universe simply had a twisted sense of humor, deciding that somewhere along the way a human and a werewolf were meant to collide so spectacularly that neither of them would ever be the same again. Whatever the answer was, it didn’t matter nearly as much as it once had. You knew, without a doubt now, that Valko was indeed yours to keep.
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