I can feel our bond flaring between us, that connection that surprised us both with its strength. What started as reluctant recognition has become something I can no longer imagine living without.
His cock presses against my entrance, thick and demanding. His eyes lock with mine, and I see everything there: desire, yes,but something deeper. Something neither of us has put into words yet.
“Nova,” he says my name like it’s something precious. Something sacred.
And that’s when I know—what I feel isn’t just desire or need or survival instinct. It’s love. Deep and unexpected and terrifying in its intensity.
My wolf howls in recognition as I hover above Dane, holding myself just out of reach. His cock strains upward, the thick head pressing against my entrance but not quite breaching me. I’m so wet already that when I slide forward, gliding my pussy along his length, we both groan at the slippery friction.
“Fuck, Nova,” he hisses, fingers digging into my hips. “Stop playing.”
I rock my hips again, letting just the tip of him part my folds before pulling back. “Is that an order, Alpha?” I tease, my voice husky with desire.
His jaw tightens, that familiar muscle jumping beneath his skin. “You know it’s not.”
And I do know. Between us, there are no orders, no submission. Just choice. Always choice.
I circle my hips, rubbing myself against him in slow, deliberate motions. Each pass slicks him further with my arousal, making the glide easier, more torturous. His cock is rock-hard, pulsing against me, and I can feel every ridge, every vein as I slide along his length.
“Nova…” More wolf than man, now. “Please.”
The plea in his voice sends a thrill through me. Dane Vaughn doesn’t beg—not for anything, not from anyone. Except me. Only me.
“Please what?” I ask, leaning down to brush my lips against his. His hands slide up my back, pulling me closer, trying to deepen the kiss, but I pull just out of reach.
“Please fuck me,” he growls, desperation edging into his voice. “I need to feel you. All of you.”
I position him at my entrance again, pushing down just enough to take the head inside. The stretch is exquisite—he’s big, always a tight fit at first. I close my eyes, savoring the initial pressure.
“Like this?” I whisper, rocking slightly but not taking him deeper.
“All the way,” he demands, his chest heaving with restraint. “Take all of me.”
I meet his gaze, holding it as I sink down on him inch by inch. The fullness is overwhelming, my body stretching to accommodate him. When I’m seated completely, I adjust my knees, spreading them wider on either side of his hips. The shift allows him to slide even deeper, and I cry out as he hits that perfect spot inside me.
“Fuuuck,” he groans, his hands roaming restlessly over my thighs, my hips, my waist. “You feel so fucking good around me.”
I begin to move, setting a rhythm that’s slow but deep. Each downward motion has him filling me completely, and each upward slide creates a delicious friction that makes my inner walls clench around him. I angle forward slightly, positioning myself so my clit rubs against his pelvic bone with each thrust.
“That’s it,” he encourages, watching where our bodies join. “Use me. Take what you need.”
The dual stimulation sends jolts of pleasure shooting through me. My head falls back, my spine arching as I ride him harder, chasing the building tension. His hands find my breasts, cupping their weight before pinching my nipples between his fingers—not too hard, just enough to send sharp spikes of pleasure-pain straight to my core.
“Your pussy’s so wet,” he says, voice low and rough. “So fucking tight around my cock. You gonna come for me, Nova?”
His words are like fuel to the fire building inside me. I’m not usually vocal during sex, but something about the raw hunger in his voice pulls sounds from my throat I didn’t know I could make.
“You like that?” he asks, correctly reading my response. “Like when I tell you how perfect your pussy feels? How I can feel every inch of you gripping me?”
“Yes,” I gasp, my rhythm faltering as pleasure builds, hot and insistent. “Don’t stop.”
He sits up suddenly, the change in angle driving him even deeper. One arm wraps around my lower back, steadying me as he captures my mouth in a kiss that’s all heat and need and ownership. His tongue slides against mine, mimicking the rhythm of our bodies. His other hand tangles in my hair, holding me to him.
When he breaks the kiss, we’re both panting. “Keep riding me,” he urges, falling back against the pillows. “I want to watch you come on my cock.”
I resume my pace, bracing my hands on his chest for leverage. The fire in my core burns hotter with each thrust, each slide of my clit against him. My thighs begin to tremble, my movements growing erratic as I get closer.
“That’s it,” he encourages, his thumbs finding my nipples again, rolling and pinching. “Let go. Let me feel you.”
