Captive: Sold To The Fox-eyed Alpha Who I Hate Chapter 48: I can taste the tonic on your skin

Ren’s fingers twisted even tighter into the fabric of his robe. The sensation of the cloth against his skin felt like sandpaper, every nerve ending screaming for a different kind of pressure.

He looked up at Cilian, his vision blurring. He wanted to scream at the man for being so cruel, for playing this ga when they were both drowning in the sa chemical heat.

"You... you know," Ren panted, a single tear escaping and rolling into his hair. "You know what it is. Stop... stop playing."

Cilian’s fox-like grin didn’t reach his eyes this ti. His eyes were dark, stripped of their usual mockery, leaving behind sothing raw and starving.

He reached out with his left hand, his fingers grazing the shimring white oil the elders had painted on Ren’s throat and Ren gulped.

"I want to hear it, Ren," Cilian commanded, his thumb pressing firmly against Ren’s pulse point. "I want to hear the ’Hard Heart’ tell exactly what it needs from the monster."

Ren let out a strangled, broken sound. The aphrodisiac was a heavy weight on his chest, making every breath a struggle.

His pride was a dying spark, smothered by the relentless, thrumming need between his legs and the intoxicating scent of the Alpha standing over him.

He couldn’t fight the biology anymore. Not tonight. Not with the ’Nectar’ singing in his blood.

"Touch ," Ren finally sobbed, the words shattering as they left his lips. He reached up, his hands trembling as he grabbed the edges of Cilian’s lei, pulling him down. "Cilian, please... fuck ."

Cilian didn’t need to be asked twice. The last of his own composure snapped. He leaned down, his mouth crashing onto Ren’s in a kiss that was devoid of any gentleness. It wasn’t a wedding kiss; it was a desperate, feverish claim.

He pinned Ren’s hands above his head, his weight pressing Ren deep into the bamboo mattress. The bed creaked violently, a sharp contrast to the soft, rhythmic sounds of the village celebration still echoing in the distance.

"I’ve got you, Ren," Cilian breathed against his lips, his voice thick with a dark, terrifying promise. "I’ve got you."

The air in the hut was so thick with pheromones it felt like they were drowning in it. Cilian’s composure, usually his greatest weapon, was lting away under the influence of the ’Nectar.’

His gold-brown eyes were glazed, the pupils blown so wide they were nearly black, reflecting the flickering embers of the village fires outside.

He didn’t just touch Ren; he claid him with a frantic, uncoordinated hunger. His left hand, still pinning Ren’s wrists above his head, squeezed with a bruising force.

"You sll so much better when you’re desperate, Ren," Cilian rasped, his voice a dark sinking ss.

He buried his face in Ren’s neck, his teeth grazing the pulse point where the ceremonial oil shimred.

"I can taste the tonic on your skin. It tastes like you’re finally admitting you’re mine."

Ren let out a high, broken moan, his back arching off the bamboo bed. The friction of his robe against his sensitized skin was unbearable. "Cilian... please... the robe... take it off."

Cilian chuckled, a low, predatory sound that vibrated against Ren’s throat.

"Always so impatient when you’re not in your right mind, huh? You want to feel , don’t you? You want to feel every inch of the monster you hate buried deep inside you."

With a sharp tug, Cilian ripped the thin fabric of Ren’s robe, the sound of tearing cloth lost to the roar of the wave outside.

He didn’t stop there. He stripped off his own garnt, his feverish skin finally eting Ren’s. The contact was electric, a collision of two bodies burning with the sa chemical fire.

Cilian’s hands road over Ren with a shaless, perverted curiosity. He traced the lines of the white oil on Ren’s chest, and then traced the marks he had left the previous night as well, his fingers heavy and demanding.

"Look at you," Cilian muttered, his words tumbling out with a lack of filter that only the aphrodisiac could cause.

His fingers found Ren’s entrance. It was already dripping.

"So wet, so open... you’re begging for it, aren’t you? You’re begging for your Alpha to fill you with a baby. You want to carry my mark inside you forever, don’t you?"

Ren’s face burned, but he couldn’t even find the strength to feel insulted. His body was screaming for the very thing Cilian was describing.

He reached down, his fingers searching for Cilian’s hard cock, guided by a need that felt older than his hate.

"Yes," Ren sobbed, his head thrashing against the mattress. "Just... do it. I don’t care. I don’t care about anything else. Just... fill already, Cilian."

Cilian’s breath hitched, a guttural sound of pure intoxication. This version of Ren... he loved it. He didn’t know it would be so fun and so perverted.

Ah, he wanted to claim Ren over and over again, fill his insides until there was no room left. He wanted to stuff his seeds until Ren begged him to stop.

And even when he begged him to stop, he wouldn’t stop because he was his. His body, his mind, his heart... all of Ren belonged to him.

Cilian groaned and then spread Ren’s legs, placing his body between them as Ren instinctively wrapped his legs around his waist, urging him to hurry up.

"Now who’s the one begging to do it?" Cilian muttered. "After you begged so earnestly not to do it that night, you’re so willing now it’s almost too sweet to rush."

He licked his lips, staring at his feast. He wasn’t the cunning fox anymore; he was a starving beast.

"I’m going to ruin you tonight, Ren," Cilian promised, his mouth seeking Ren’s in a bruising kiss. "I’m going to make sure you can’t even rember your own na. Only mine. You’ll only know my na when I’m deep inside you, making sure that tonic does exactly what it was made for. I’m going to put a baby inside you."

He didn’t wait for a response as he pressed the tip of his cock into Ren’s entrance and then pushed inside.