Olivia’s POV
The vibrator stopped. The sudden silence left my body twitching, straining for what he had so cruelly stolen away. My chest rose and fell in shallow, desperate gasps, the blindfold pressing against my eyes, heightening the darkness that matched my hunger.
"Please..." My voice cracked, thin and broken. "Please, master... I can’t take it."
A low growl rumbled from him, vibrating through the air and straight into my bones. "Can’t take it, or can’t live without it?" His fingers gripped my chin, forcing my trembling lips upward. "Which is it, Olivia?"
"I... I need you," I whispered, sha burning hot across my skin. "I need your cock. Please."
His hand gripped my chin, forcing my face upward again. His voice cut through the dark like steel.
"No."
The word hit harder than a slap. My lips parted, a broken sob escaping. I jerked against my restraints, desperate, ruined. "Please... please don’t say that. I need you. I need you inside , master—please, I’ll do anything."
A cruel chuckle rumbled from him, vibrating straight through . "Now you rember how to beg."
"I’m begging," I cried, my voice raw, trembling. "Don’t leave like this. I’ll be good. I’ll do whatever you want—just don’t leave empty."
He didn’t say a word; rather, he released my cuffed wrist, which was still bound, and held my hand as he led to another corner of the room.
My stomach brushed sothing hard, and I flinched. A desk? A table? I couldn’t see, couldn’t know, but his hands were suddenly on my waist as he pressed down, spreading , forcing open as I arched my back.
The sound of fabric tearing filled the room, followed by the heavy thud of his belt dropping to the ground. My breath caught—every nerve alive, waiting. I heard the soft rasp of a zipper, the whisper of clothing shifting. My wolf whimpered inside , clawing at the edges of my chest.
He stepped between my thighs, his presence so close, so solid, my body bowed forward instinctively, aching to feel him. My legs quivered as he nudged them wider, his thumbs pressing into my thighs until I was bared, helpless, ready.
His breath ghosted over my ear as he leaned down, his voice dark velvet. "I can sll your arousal, dear mate."
I swallowed hard, my lips trembling. "Yes," I breathed. "Please, master. I’ll do anything—just don’t leave empty."
A rough chuckle left his lips. His body pressed closer, heat radiating against my trembling core.
The blunt head of his cock brushed against my entrance—just enough to make gasp, to make my whole body jerk forward like it was begging on its own. My walls clenched around nothing, desperate, aching, as I arched my back, trying to take him in.
But he pulled back.
A broken cry left my throat. "No—please—don’t tease ," I begged, my voice cracked and hoarse. "Just fuck , master, I need it, I can’t—"
He only pressed the tip against again, slow and deliberate, rolling it over my slick folds, saring with my own wetness. My legs shook, my hips pushed back, but every ti I tried to take him, he pulled away, leaving hollow, tortured.
"Greedy little mate," he muttered against my ear, his tone rough, cutting, but laced with heat that made burn.
"Please," I sobbed, shaless now. "I’m begging—fill , master. Please, I’ll be good, I’ll do anything—just fuck ."
Instead of giving in, his palm ca down hard against my ass. The sharp sting made cry out, my body jerking against the desk. The sound echoed in the room, mixing with the ragged edge of my breath. My pussy clenched tighter, dripping, needy, begging for him in ways words never could.
Then—finally—he pressed forward. The head pushed past my entrance, stretching , burning, filling the emptiness I had been drowning in. My mouth fell open in a broken moan as my body opened for him, wet and eager, welcoming every inch as he slid in.
"Master—oh god—" My voice broke as my walls clamped down around him, relief and desperation flooding through .
He didn’t let breathe. With my hair wound tight in his grip and my body bent over the desk, he pulled back and slamd into , hard and slow. The force shattered my cry into a gasp, my nails clawing uselessly at the wood beneath .
"Fuck, love." He moaned out, and then he began to fuck .
A sudden crack of his palm against my ass jolted a cry from my lips, the sting burning hot, sharp enough to make my core clench tighter around him. He growled low, the sound vibrating through as though he took pleasure in my reaction.
"So fucking wet, Oli." He moaned, fucking harder, his grip on my head tightening. He yanked my head back until my throat arched. I gasped, helpless beneath his pull, my world narrowing to the heat of his body and the rciless grip that reminded I was his.
Then his other hand road forward, seizing my breast, his thumb brushing across my nipple until it ached, pinching just enough to make my back arch off the desk. The small tornt blended with the relentless stretch inside , and my broken moans filled the air.
"Fuck, this feels good," he murmured darkly against my ear, his voice a velvet blade. "Every part of you begging, every sound you make mine."
My walls clenched greedily around him, my body betraying , pulling him deeper with every savage thrust.
My wolf whimpered, clawing to submit, to surrender to him fully.
His thumb drifted lower, sliding across my stomach before pressing against the slick heat between my thighs. The rough stroke against my clit sent shockwaves through , forcing my hips to jerk, my body unable to resist. I was trapped—pinned, claid, unraveling under his every move—yet my soul craved more, begged for him to never stop.
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