Something in him snapped completely. He withdrew his fingers, leaving me empty and desperate, and I heard the sound of a zipper—rough, hurried. Then he was flipping me over, dragging my hips up, positioning me face-down on the couch with my ass in the air and my cheek pressed against the worn leather.
"You want to be treated like prey?" His voice was a growl, low and dangerous, and I felt the head of his cock pressing against my entrance—hot and thick andbig. "Then take it. Take all of it."
He thrust into me in one brutal motion, burying himself to the hilt.
I screamed. The stretch was intense—he was bigger than anyone I'd ever been with, and he didn't give me time to adjust. He just startedmoving, his hips slamming against my ass with a rhythm that was more animal than human. One hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head back, and the other gripped my hip hard enough to bruise.
"Look at you," he snarled, his voice ragged. "Taking my cock like you were made for it. So tight. So perfect."
I couldn't speak. I could barely breathe. Every thrust hit something deep inside me, pleasure and pain blurring into a single overwhelming sensation. The couch creaked beneath us, the sound mixing with his growls and my broken moans and the obscene wet noise of his cock driving into me again and again.
"Smelled you," he panted, his rhythm growing more erratic. "In the forest. Knew you wanted this. Wantedme. Even with a knife at your throat, you were soaking for me."
"Yes," I sobbed. "Yes, Lucien,yes—"
He pulled out abruptly, and I cried out at the loss. But before I could protest, he flipped me onto my back, his body covering mine, his weight pressing me into the cushions. His cock was slick with my arousal, the head swollen and flushed,and when I looked down, I saw something that made my breath catch.
The base of his shaft was thickening—swelling into a knot that hadn't been there before.
"Look at me," he commanded, gripping my chin and forcing my gaze to his. His eyes were pure amber now, glowing faintly in the dim light, and his face was a mask of feral hunger. "I want you to watch. Want you to see what you do to me."
He positioned himself at my entrance again, the swollen knot pressing against my slick folds. I was stretched, sensitive, and the pressure of it made me whimper.
"It won't fit," I breathed. "Lucien, it's too—"
"It'll fit." His voice was a growl, low and possessive. "You'll take all of me. Every inch. And then I'm going to knot this pretty pussy and fill you up until you're dripping with me."
He pushed. The knot stretched me impossibly wide, a burning fullness that teetered on the edge of pain. I cried out, my hands flying to his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin. He didn't stop—just kept pressing forward, slow and inexorable, until the knot popped past my entrance and locked inside me.
The sensation was overwhelming. I was so full I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, could onlyfeel—the thick heat of him buried to the hilt, the pulsing pressure of the knot stretching me from the inside, the way his hips ground against mine in small, desperate circles.
"Fuck," he groaned, his forehead dropping to mine. "Feel that? Feel how deep I am? You're mine now.Mine."
He started moving again—short, grinding thrusts that rubbed the knot against every sensitive spot inside me. I was climbing, spiraling toward an orgasm that felt like it might actually kill me. His mouth found my throat, teeth grazing my pulse, and I felt the sharp sting of a bite—not breaking skin, but close.
"Come for me," he growled against my neck. "Come on my knot. Let me feel you."
The command tipped me over the edge. My orgasm crashed through me like a tidal wave, my inner walls clenching around his knot, milking him as he buried his face in my shoulder and let out a sound that was more howl than moan. I felt him come—hot and thick and endless, pumping into me in pulsing waves as his knot locked us together.
And then he bit me.
His teeth sank into the curve of my shoulder—hard, brutal,claiming. I screamed, the pain blending with the pleasure into something transcendent. I felt the skin break, felt the warm trickle of blood, felt his tongue lapping at the wound as he continued to rut into me, his knot keeping every drop of his release sealed inside.
"Breeding this pussy," he rasped, his voice wrecked. "Filling you up. Making you mine."
I was sobbing now—overwhelmed, overstimulated, utterly destroyed. Every tiny movement of his hips sent aftershocks rippling through me, and the knot kept me pinned, helpless, impaled on his cock with no escape. He stayed there, buried inside me, his mouth working against my bleeding shoulder, his body trembling with the effort of holding back the wolf.
Time lost meaning. Minutes or hours later—I couldn't tell—the knot finally began to deflate. Lucien pulled out slowly, carefully, and I felt the rush of his release spilling out of me, soaking the ruined couch beneath us. He collapsed beside me, his chest heaving, his eyes slowly fading from amber back to their usual dark brown.
We lay there in silence, our bodies tangled, the air thick with the scent of sex and blood and something wilder. I shouldhave been terrified. I should have been furious. Instead, I felt... claimed. Possessed.Alive.
"I hurt you." His voice was rough, barely audible. "Your shoulder—"
"I'm fine." I reached up, touching the wound. It was already closing, the bleeding slowing. "It doesn't hurt."
He turned his head to look at me, and I saw something in his eyes I hadn't expected: fear. Not of me, but of himself. Of what he'd done. Of what he might do.
"I lost control," he said. "I could have—"
