"I agree," Ronan said, voice low but firm.
Riven stilled. He blinked, genuinely caught off guard by the certainty in Ronan’s tone. His hands, which had been gently resting on Ronan’s warm chest, paused mid-movent. He tilted his head slightly, peering down at his Alpha, his mate, searching.
This is Ronan, right? He was not replaced by an alien, right? A hint of hesitation, a flicker of discomfort in those blue eyes. But instead, Ronan looked steady. Focused.
Still, Riven needed to be sure.
"Ronan," he said gently, brushing his thumb across Ronan’s collarbone. "We don’t have to. Not if you’re not sure. Either way, I want to move past the... past. We’re fine. You and —we’re good."
His words were soft, sincere, his heart open. He hadn’t ant to push Ronan into anything. His teasing had been half a joke, half a fantasy, but never a demand.
He liked Ronan. He truly did, and he was over what happened.
But Ronan frowned.
"I am not afraid, if that’s what you’re thinking," Ronan said quickly, sitting up a little straighter beneath him. His muscles rippled slightly under Riven’s hands, and his brows furrowed as if he were genuinely hurt by the suggestion.
Riven blinked, confused. "I didn’t think you were scared..."
"Good," Ronan cut in. "Because I’m not. Not the least bit afraid."
His voice was firm, and there was sothing else underneath it—pride, perhaps. That Alpha instinct that didn’t like being second-guessed, especially by his mate.
Riven rolled his eyes but smiled, amused by how defensive Ronan was getting. But at the sa ti, his heart softened. It was adorable, really—this huge Alpha, always so in control, getting flustered over the idea that he might seem hesitant.
Ronan leaned back against the headboard, stretching his arms behind his head in a deliberately lazy pose that only emphasised the breadth of his shoulders and the smooth, muscular lines of his chest. His voice dropped into a teasing drawl. "Just rember, the tops do all the work. Can you manage that, little wolf?"
Riven’s eyes glead.
He leaned forward, both hands planting firmly on Ronan’s chest, pinning him gently as he leaned in close until their noses almost touched. "Of course I can," he whispered, his voice playful but charged. "I’ve had years of practice in my head."
He truly did!
"Oh, yes," Riven said, inching closer so his thighs rested fully on Ronan’s hips again. "You think I haven’t imagined what it’d be like? All those tis you bullied with that stupid smug grin of yours... Alpha this, Alpha that..."
"Is this supposed to be revenge?" Ronan asked with his head tilted.
"In a way," Riven smirked, his own canines growing anxious to mark Ronan.
An oga marking an Alpha? This was unheard of. But did Ronan care? No, his mind was already occupied with other thoughts. How would this work? He did not have the anatomy of an oga... He would not produce...
Riven’s hands road again, fingers trailing lightly down Ronan’s sides, mapping the dips and ridges of muscles he had admired more tis than he cared to admit. Every little twitch under his touch sent a thrill through him.
He’d dread of this—actually dread, waking up flushed and bothered—so to be here, finally getting his chance, it made him feel both giddy and powerful.
And Ronan, for once, wasn’t in charge.
He watched Riven with open curiosity now. His eyes were filled with a bit of doubt but also curiosity.
He knew he could always turn the tables if needed. But for now, he will indulge his mate. Even when not in control, he felt certain that he was in control.
Riven smiled cheekily before he conveyed his heartfelt words, "Thank you for trusting ... I promise you will have the night of your life." Riven giggled excitedly.
He kissed Ronan again, slow and lingering, and felt Ronan lt beneath him just a little. He was getting very excited.
Riven pulled back slightly and ran his hand along Ronan’s abdon, watching the way his skin reacted to his touch, how his muscles tightened with anticipation. Ronan watched him in return, eyes soft, smile lazy.
"You’re really gonna do this," Ronan murmured, almost like he was realizing it all over again.
"I am," Riven said with a smirk. "And you’re going to love it."
And with that, he leaned down, reclaiming Ronan’s mouth with a kiss that promised all the things words couldn’t say. Tenderness, fire, playfulness, and longing all twined into one.
He needed to be a good top for Ronan, after all, he placed his trust in him.
Riven eagerly leaned in, lips parting with anticipation as his fingers combed through Ronan’s thick, silver-white hair, pushing it aside with more urgency than grace.
The strands slipped through his fingers like moonlight, revealing the soft, vulnerable patch of skin just above the Alpha’s nape—where his scent glands pulsed faintly beneath the surface.
This was it.
This was his mont.
His mouth hovered for a second too long, breath shaky, pupils wide. He had always imagined what it might be like to mark soone, to leave behind proof of his claim—not out of possessiveness, but out of desire.
Deep, unshakable desire. And for it to be Ronan, his Alpha, the one who always took the lead. How thrilling would it be for an oga to mark an alpha?
And the scent—gods, the scent. It hit him like a wave the mont the hair was brushed away.
Why does he sll like coffee?
Not the sugary, caral-drenched kind from cafés. No, this was bold and bitter, deep and awakening, the kind of aroma that demanded your attention the mont you walked into the room. It was completely and utterly Ronan.
Riven didn’t want to waste ti wondering why.
He simply wanted to mark Ronan. As a dutiful top, this was his responsibility. He felt the hot skin against his lips and smiled. Ronan was blushing, wasn’t he... He was waiting for this.
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