Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by his Brother Chapter 292: Please Yourself

Warning: Mature Content Ahead.

Dear Moon.

I flopped back against the pillows, the heat crawling up my neck like I’d just been roasted alive. My hands hovered awkwardly over my body like I was about to attempt surgery without a license.

He stood beside the bed, arms crossed, watching like a coach at a recital. My heart hamred so loud I thought it might jump out of my chest and run for cover.

"Look at the way he waits," my wolf murmured, purring low in the back of my mind. "Only a true Alpha holds back his own hunger to feed yours first. That’s the kind of male who leads a pack. That’s the kind we deserve."

I paused, hands trembling. I wasn’t sure where to start. My fingers brushed uncertainly, and I flinched at the sensation.

"Don’t overthink it," he murmured, standing by the bed now, eyes trained on with an intensity that made my skin buzz. "Start slow. Just touch. Explore. Like you’re figuring out what makes you lt."

lt? I was already pudding. But okay. I could... try?

My palms skimd my sides, and I found the gentle curve of my waist. My touch was hesitant at first, like I didn’t trust my own hands. The candlelight flickered across my skin, painting in warm gold and soft shadows. Everything felt surreal—my hypersensitive skin, the charged aut, Axel’s presence that felt like a magnetic hum in the atmosphere.

I swallowed hard and let my fingers skim up, over the swell of my breasts. A soft, startled breath escaped . I didn’t expect it to feel like that—like my own touch was new. Like I’d never t this version of before.

Axel didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He watched the way a man watches a miracle, like he couldn’t believe this was real either.

"Let him see us," my wolf whispered again. "Let him worship what belongs to him. Let him lead. This is how our kind should be touched—like a fla that cannot be rushed."

The intensity in Axel’s gaze was like a physical force, pulling the heat deeper into my belly.

"You’re doing good," he said, voice rougher now.

I bit my lip and skimd my fingers over my nipples, and they peaked instantly. A soft gasp escaped . That was... okay, yeah, that was sothing. My whole body seed to lean into the touch, begging for more.

Axel chuckled softly, stepping closer. "Relax, cariño. There’s no rush. Just feel. Let yourself explore."

I nodded, feeling a little braver. My hands moved again, this ti slower and softer. But the shy, uncertain girl inside kept pulling back, the wolf inside growling, "Stop being scared. Know your own fire."

Axel’s voice was a steady anchor. "Good. Keep going. Feel what feels right."

I couldn’t shake the bashfulness. Sowhere deep inside, a voice still told I shouldn’t enjoy this. That I should feel sha.

"Burn that voice to ash. There’s no sha in knowing your power. No sha in learning your fire. The world fears won who know themselves. That’s why they try to make us small." My wolf snapped.

But Axel didn’t want small.

His voice ca again, grounding . "You’re safe. No judgnt here. Just you. Just ."

I smiled shakily. I could do this.

But when I slipped my hand lower—toward the apex of my thighs, I froze. It was like trying to walk into a storm naked. Every insecurity ca rushing back: the voices of girls who giggled in locker rooms, of boys who bragged about what girls should do for them, of a culture that whispered sha into every crevice of femininity.

I groaned. "I’m doing this wrong. This feels weird."

Axel knelt again, his hand gently catching my wrist. "Hey. Breathe. You’re okay."

I peeked at him, my embarrassnt redder than my mother’s chiles as I wished the mattress could eat .

"I don’t know what to do," I admitted.

"That’s okay," he said calmly, like this was totally normal honeymoon behavior. "Let help."

He leaned forward, guiding my hand over my lower stomach with infinite patience. Then he kissed the inside of my thigh—just once, like a soft spark, and looked up at .

"Follow my voice," he said. "Don’t think about how you look. Don’t think about . Just listen to your body."

And then he began to coach .

Literally.

Soft, explicit instructions that made blush so hard I felt like my soul turned pink. But I followed them. And slowly, the awkwardness started to fade.

I explored the places he directed to, fingers trailing uncertain paths at first. My breath ca faster, my hips shifting instinctively. I found a rhythm. My own. I found heat. Pleasure sparked beneath my touch... gentle at first, then stronger, more urgent.

I gasped. "Oh."

Axel’s eyes darkened with pride. "There she is."

It was like I’d unlocked a door in myself I didn’t know was there.

My body responded with abandon now, hips rolling gently, breath ragged. I circled my fingers the way he instructed around my clits, and a burst of pleasure made my toes curl. My head fell back against the pillow as my own touch brought to the edge—my edge.

I whimpered. "Axel..."

"I’ve got you," he mused in a super hoarse voice "You’re beautiful like this. You feel that? That’s yours, María. You don’t need anyone’s permission to feel good in your body."

I didn’t stop stroking. I couldn’t stop. I was greedy for it now, drunk on sensation. It was that promised bliss just a heartbeat away.

Axel’s words like fuel, emboldened to keep on. I moaned, thighs trembling, the pressure building until I was arching off the bed, lost in the sensations I was giving myself.

Then his hand replaced mine.

And I shattered.

He slid two fingers through the slickness I’d created, slow and sure. The contrast between my touch and his was devastating. My hips jerked involuntarily, and my entire world narrowed to the points where we connected.

My orgasm burst like a confined flood.

I cried out... loud, raw, unashad as waves of pleasure rocked . My wolf howled in triumph, a primal echo that pulsed through my bones. I grabbed at Axel, nails digging into his arms, and he held , kissed , and murmured soft things I couldn’t even hear through the storm of sensation.

When it finally ebbed, I was a heap of sweat and shaky limbs.

"Still alive?" he whispered with a grin.

"Barely," I croaked, eyes half-closed.

What the hell was that? That blissful sensation? I couldn’t believe sothing as small and simple as two fingers could bring about such a beautiful feeling.

Axel chuckled, lying beside and brushing hair from my face. "You did amazing. I’m proud of you."

I groaned, face hot. "You were watching the whole ti."

"Every second. And I would happily do it again."

I swatted his arm, but there was no force behind it. "I can’t believe you coached ."

"Better than a YouTube tutorial," he teased, kissing my cheek. "Now you know yourself. Next ti, you’ll show what you like."

I humd, curling against him. "Next ti?"

He pulled close, lips at my temple. "There’s always a next ti, Mrs. Montenegro."

And suddenly, all that awkwardness, all that tension, lted into warmth.

Love. Trust. Desire. I lted because I believed him.

Because he made believe that my body was sacred, that my pleasure mattered, that I was powerful—not despite being soft, but because I was.

"He’s ours," my wolf whispered, now calm, purring like a full-bellied cat. "Our mate and protector. Future Alpha. No one else will love us like this."

And maybe she was right.

Because when Axel stood and began undoing his buttons, with a devilish smirk curling his lips, I wasn’t nervous anymore. I was ready.

"Now," he grinned, "to the agenda of the day..."