His words send me over the edge. My orgasm crashes through me like a tidal wave, every muscle clenching as pleasure radiates outward from my core. I cry out, not caring who might hear; my inner walls pulsing around Hamilton’s length.
His own release follows as my pulsing heat attempts to milk his cock dry. His rhythm falters as he drives into me one final time. His body goes rigid, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as he empties himself into me.
For a moment, we stay locked together, panting and sweaty, the reality of what we’ve just done slowly seeping back into consciousness.
Hamilton rests his forehead against mine, his breathing ragged. “Fuck.”
That about sums it up.
Slowly, he pulls out of me and lowers me to the ground. I can feel the hot gush of his cum dripping down my thigh. He steadies me when my legs threaten to give out. The loss of him has me feeling oddly empty, vulnerable in a way I wasn’t prepared for. We adjust our clothing in awkward silence. I use my panties to wipe up the mess and stuff them into my bag. The passionate fury of moments ago replaced by something heavier, more complicated.
“That was…” he starts, but I cut him off.
“A mistake,” I finish for him, though the word feels hollow even as I say it. “A momentary lapse in judgment that will never happen again.”
He studies me, his expression unreadable. “Is that what you told Percy, too?”
These fucking pigs.
Shame and anger flare within me. I’ve now fucked two of the three Porkwell brothers, the very men threatening my pack’s territory.
What kind of defender does that make me?
“I need to go.” I smooth down my shirt, wincing at the tenderness between my legs, the places where his fingers and teeth have left marks on my skin. Marks that will fade too quickly, thanks to my wolf healing. No physical evidence of my betrayal will remain, but the memory will.
“Running away?”
“Getting air.” I meet his eyes, determined not to show weakness. “This changes nothing, Hamilton. I’m still going to fight you on Wolfstone. With everything I have.”
A slow smile spreads across his face. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
I turn to continue down the stairs, needing to put as much distance as possible between us.
“Ruby,” he calls after me. I pause but don’t turn around. “Friday’s meeting. Be prepared for a new proposal. One you might actually find… satisfactory.”
I glance back over my shoulder. “More of Percy’s compromises?”
“No.” Hamilton’s smile is enigmatic. “Mine.”
I don’t respond. I just wait for the click of the lock and shove through the stairwell door, emerging onto another office floor.
But Hamilton lingers—his scent clinging to my skin, the taste of him still on my tongue. He’s everywhere.
What have I done?
Again.
I start walking, with no particular destination in mind, just needing to move, to think.
Wolfstone.
My pack.
The Porkwell brothers.
The tangled web I’ve woven by letting desire override duty.
And now there’s this new complication—Hamilton. So different from Percy in every way. Where Percy was passionate and gentle, Hamilton was all dominance and intensity. Percy made me feel desired; Hamilton made me feel consumed. The tenderness that lingered after being with Percy is nowhere to be found now—just a confusing mix of shame, lingering arousal, and something darker I don’t want to examine.
