( Rhydian)
She doesn’t answer right away.
I watch her process the words — *stay with tonight* — the flicker behind her eyes, the almost-decision playing across a face that usually gives nothing away. She glances at my hand cupping her jaw, then back at . Sothing raw and unguarded moves through her expression, and I’m still learning how to read it.
Then she says, "Okay."
Just that. Simple. Honest.
"The vial is with Senna," she says.
"I know."
"She’ll have sothing for us by morning."
"I know."
A beat. She looks at . "Shadowpine is coming in—"
"Elena." I say her na quietly. "I know all of that." I hold her gaze. "It’ll still be true tomorrow."
I follow her back to the room.
---
The mont the door closes, the air changes. Thicker. Heavier. The lessons, the structure, the careful control — all of it falls away.
Sothing in her face changes. Not softens exactly — she doesn’t soften, that’s not the right word, it’s more like the part of her that’s always managing things puts itself down for a mont. Like she stops being the Alpha and becos just — her. Whoever that is underneath everything she carries.
She hangs her coat slowly, deliberately, buying herself ti. I sit on the edge of the bed and watch her, the firelight painting warm gold across her skin. When she finally turns from the window, the snow falling steadily behind her, there’s no Alpha in her eyes. Just Elena. Just a woman standing in front of a man who wants her so badly it hurts.
She walks to .
No instructions. No teaching. She stops between my knees and looks down at like I’m sothing precious and dangerous at the sa ti. Her fingers slide into my hair, pushing it back from my forehead with a tenderness that makes my chest ache. I close my eyes and lean into her touch.
"Hey," she whispers.
I open my eyes. She’s watching like she’s morizing this mont.
I reach up, take her hand, and pull her down. She cos willingly, straddling my lap, her thighs bracketing mine. Our mouths hover close, breaths mingling. Neither of us closes the distance right away. We just stay there, suspended in that aching space, letting the want build until it’s unbearable.
I kiss her first.
Slow. Deep. Nothing like the claiming bite of the ceremony. This is just us — hungry, searching, real. Her lips part under mine and she sighs into my mouth, a soft, needy sound that shoots straight to my cock. My hands slide under her shirt, palms greedy against the warm, scarred skin of her back. She arches into , pressing her breasts against my chest.
We undress each other without rushing.
Her fingers work the laces of my shirt, mine pull her pants down her strong thighs. Every piece of clothing that hits the floor feels like another wall crumbling. When she’s bare in front of , firelight licking over every curve and scar, I have to stop and just look. She’s devastating.
I pull her back onto the bed with .
This ti there’s no lesson plan. No "do this, breathe, follow my lead." Just two people who have been circling each other for too long finally giving in.
I take my ti tasting her.
I kiss down her throat, sucking lightly at the spot that makes her breath hitch. My mouth finds her breasts, tongue circling one tight nipple while my hand palms the other. She moans softly, fingers tightening in my hair, guiding lower without words. I go where she wants — kissing down her stomach, nipping at her hip bones, until I settle between her thighs.
She’s already wet, glistening.
I drag my tongue up her slit in one long, slow stroke and her hips jerk. I do it again, savoring her taste, then seal my mouth over her clit and suck gently. Elena’s head falls back with a broken sound. Her thighs tremble around my shoulders as I lick and suck and worship her, sliding two fingers inside her tight heat, curling them just right.
"Rhydian—" she gasps, voice wrecked.
I don’t stop. I work her slowly, deliberately, until her back arches and her fingers fist the sheets. When she cos, it’s quiet and devastating — a long, shuddering release that leaves her panting and boneless.
I crawl back up her body and kiss her deeply, letting her taste herself on my tongue. She wraps her legs around my waist and rolls us so she’s on top. Her hand wraps around my aching cock, stroking once, twice, before she positions at her entrance.
Our eyes lock.
She sinks down onto inch by inch, taking deep into her slick, pulsing heat. The feeling is so intense I have to grip her hips to keep from thrusting up too fast. She’s tight. Perfect. Wet velvet gripping every inch of .
"Fuck, Elena..." I groan.
She starts to move — slow, rolling grinds that drag along every sensitive spot inside her. Her hands brace on my chest as she rides , hair falling around her face like a dark curtain. I sit up, pulling her closer so I can kiss her while she moves, our bodies pressed together, skin sliding against skin.
We stay like that for a long ti — slow, deep, intentional. Every thrust, every roll of her hips feels like a promise. I cup her ass, helping her move, sucking marks into her neck and shoulder. She rides harder when I hit that perfect spot inside her, her moans growing louder, breathier.
I flip us again, pinning her beneath . I hook one of her legs over my arm and drive into her deeper, grinding against her clit with every thrust. Her nails rake down my back, hard enough to sting, and the pain only makes fuck her harder.
"Again," I growl against her ear. "Co on my cock again."
She does — clenching around so tightly I almost lose it. I keep thrusting through her orgasm, drawing it out until she’s shaking.
Only then do I let myself go.
I bury myself to the hilt and co hard, spilling deep inside her with a guttural groan. The pleasure whites out everything else for a long, perfect mont.
---
Afterward, the fire has burned low. Snow still falls outside. She’s on her back, I’m half-draped over her, my head on her chest listening to her heartbeat slow. Her fingers are in my hair again, stroking lazily.
I lift my head and look at her — flushed, lips swollen, eyes soft in the firelight. The words rise up before I can stop them.
"I think I love you."
The room goes still.
Elena freezes beneath . Her hand stops moving. Her eyes widen slightly, sothing complicated and raw flashing across her face — fear, surprise, sothing deeper she doesn’t know how to na yet.
Three seconds. Four.
Then she grabs my face with both hands and kisses fiercely — desperate, claiming, almost angry in its intensity. Like she’s pouring every unsaid thing into . Like she’s answering with her whole body because words aren’t enough.
I kiss her back just as hard, pouring everything I feel into it.
Outside, the snow keeps falling.
And for the first ti in years, I’m not cold anymore.
Reviews
All reviews (0)