'How could one woman be so submissive and yet so dominant at the same time?' Zion didn't know—and frankly, he didn't care. With every passing second, his eagerness grew, hungry to discover what she was willing to give him and what she was desperate to take.
Her gaze dropped from his intense eyes to his well-chiseled chest. Her eyes traced the contours of his eight defined abs, each muscle flexing beneath his skin. Sweat caused strands of his dark hair to slip down and cling to his heated skin.
'He was a walking Greek god, she thought. A living, breathing sculpture of Artemis. How could one man be so incredibly beautiful?' She didn't know the answer, but she was determined to have the best of his body tonight. She would touch every inch of him as if it were the last time—because, in her heart, she knew it might be.
She leaned down, her breath hot against his skin, and flicked her tongue teasingly over his left nipple.
Fire. Madness. Rage. Hunger. Desire.
Zion felt all five crash over him like a tidal wave when she followed it with a soft bite, her teeth grazing just enough to send sparks shooting through his nerves. At the same time, she flicked her thumb over his right nipple, circling it with deliberate pressure that made his body arch involuntarily.
She was pushing all his buttons, claiming every weak spot he hadn't even known existed. Before this moment, he hadn't realized how sensitive his nipples could be—no woman had ever lavished such focused attention on him, exploring him with this kind of reverent hunger. He was utterly enjoying it, and she knew it from the deep, guttural groan that rumbled from his chest above her. Good, very good, she thought, a thrill of power coursing through her.
Emboldened, she lowered herself further, trailing a path of feather-light kisses down the ridges of his chest, savoring the salty taste of his sweat-slicked skin. She paused just above his waistline, her heart pounding in anticipation. Just once, she risked a glance up at him—his dark eyes locked on hers, smoldering with raw need, giving her the silent go-ahead she craved, urging her onward.
Her gaze returned to his waistline as she sank to her knees before him, the marble floor cool against her skin. While planting soft, lingering kisses just below his belly button—each one drawing a sharp inhale from him—she reached for his belt, deftly unbuckling it with steady hands. The leather whispered free, and then her fingers found the zipper of his trousers, tugging it down slowly, inch by torturous inch, freeing him from the confines that had been straining against his arousal.
Aching with desire, she pulled his trousers down to his knees, exposing his hard cock straining against the fabric of his black briefs. For a brief moment, she was overwhelmed and impressed by his length, the sheer size calling to her in a way that made her pulse quicken.
When his trousers slipped to his ankles, he stepped out of them and kicked them away carelessly. Where they ended up didn't matter now—there were far more urgent things occupying his mind.
His thick thighs, adorned with the dark hairs she had come to love, were now fully exposed. She gently pulled his briefs down to his knees, leaving a trail of soft kisses along the path the fabric traveled to his ankles. When he stepped out of the boxer briefs, she drank in the sight of his full length—hard, commanding, and beckoning her with an irresistible allure.
Her gaze flicked up to meet his once more.
Taking a deep breath, she ran her hands down his length, stroking him firmly. He thought he saw stars—this had to be heaven. But he was wrong.
The moment her tongue flicked over the tip of his cock, he was instantly transported to a higher plane. It could have been Gunther—the animal within—letting out the guttural, primal groan that escaped his lips as she lavished attention on him.
He lost all control.
As she pumped him in and out of her mouth, he gripped the strands of hair that fell over her shoulders, guiding her with a fierce need. She sucked, kissed, and teased him with expert precision, driving him wild with every movement.
Fuck.
She skillfully fucked his dick with her mouth, her rhythm a maddening paradox—warm yet teasingly cool, slow and deliberate one moment, then fast and insistent the next. Zion couldn't make sense of anything at all; his world narrowed to the slick heat enveloping him, the way she drew him in deeper, unraveling his composure thread by thread.
When he felt the coil of release tightening unbearably, threatening to spill into her mouth, he stepped back abruptly, his chest heaving.
Not yet. He wouldn't let himself go just yet—not when there was so much more to claim.
Before she could protest or question, he lowered himself to scoop her up from the floor in one fluid motion, her body light and yielding in his arms.
She giggled breathlessly as he carried her to the king-sized bed, the sound a spark that only stoked his fire higher. He placed her down gently, only to flip her over onto her stomach with a possessive growl, his hands already roaming.
He wanted to tear the dress from her body in a frenzy, but there was no time for destruction. With urgent fingers, he tugged down the zipper and peeled the fabric away, discarding it like an afterthought.
His eyes raked over her exposed form, drinking in every curve. Her breasts, full and bare, rose and fell with her ragged breaths, her aching nipples hardening under his gaze, begging for his touch—fair and flawless, just like the rest of her silken skin.
Below her waistline, a red lace panty clung to her hips, a tantalizing barrier that made his mouth water. His eyes flickered up to her face, searching, silently asking for permission to proceed.
She saw the raw question in his darkened gaze, the barely restrained hunger. Antsy and aching, she nodded—eager, consenting—and that was all he needed.
He dove in, sinking his teeth into the tender flesh of her neck, marking her as his. "Fuck!" she screamed aloud when his fingers slipped between her thighs, coming into contact with her aching pussy.
It was wet, slippery, and warm—dripping with readiness for him, pulsing under his touch like it had been waiting for this moment all night.
He wanted to take it slow, to savor her inch by inch, but restraint was slipping through his fingers like sand. He needed her—needed to bury himself inside her, to lose himself completely. Now.
"Please. Don't think twice," she gasped, her voice breathless and pleading, urging him past the edge.
As he pumped his fingers in and out of her slick heat, curling them just right to hit that spot that made her arch, she clung to the sheets, knuckles white. Her lower lip was caught between her sharp incisors, biting down to stifle the screams building in her throat, though muffled whimpers escaped anyway.
With a swift pull, he dragged her panties down her legs, leaving a trail of hot kisses along the exposed skin—nipping at her thighs, her calves—until they joined the pile on the floor. When he spread her legs apart, exposing her fully, joy surged through his eyes—and Gunther's too, the beast within roaring in triumph at the sight of her, open and glistening for him.
He lowered his face to hers, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss, then reached across to the bedside lamp, flicking it off with a decisive click. The room plunged into total darkness, shadows swallowing them whole. He didn't want her to see his face when he finally lost control inside her—the feral shift, the unbridled wildness that would consume him.
With that, he positioned himself and slid his length into her in one deep, claiming thrust. She let out a wild scream that echoed through the room, her body clenching around him like a vice, pulling him deeper into the abyss they'd created.
He froze mid-thrust, a sharp pang of realization hitting him when he felt something inside her give way—a delicate barrier ripping apart under the intensity of their union. His eyes locked onto her face in the enveloping darkness, catching the fleeting wince of pain mingled with determination. It was obvious now: this was her first time. "Why didn't you tell—"
She silenced him abruptly, crashing her lips against his in a fierce, demanding kiss that stole his breath. "I thought I told you not to think twice," she murmured against his mouth, her voice husky and unyielding. "Just move."
Novaria felt the initial hurt bloom like fire between her thighs, a sharp sting that made her gasp—but it faded quickly, giving way to a pleasure so profound, so all-consuming, it eclipsed everything she'd ever imagined. Waves of ecstasy rippled through her, building with each careful movement he made.
Zion's strokes began slow and measured, his body attuned to hers, trying not to hurt her further as he eased deeper, letting her adjust to the fullness of him. But restraint was a fragile thing, and soon he quickened his pace, the rhythm turning urgent, primal. Within him, he sensed the golden ring around Gunther's eyes widen in awe. Damn, Zion thought. Even his wolf was impressed—not just impressed, but drooling with feral hunger, the beast's instincts roaring to life.
"Mate!" Gunther growled from the depths of his mind, impatience clawing at the edges of Zion's control.
"Not now, Gunther. Not now," he shot back internally, gritting his teeth against the pull.
"Mark mate!"
No. He wouldn't. He couldn't bind her like that—not without her knowing, not in this haze of lust.
"Mark mate!" Gunther cried out again, the demand a thunderous echo in his soul.
Novaria threw her head back against the pillows, a string of curses spilling from her lips in a breathless torrent, followed by a scream of his name that shattered the silence—"Zion!"—her body arching beneath him, nails digging into his shoulders.
That was the last straw.
Zion didn't know when control slipped entirely from his grasp, but in a blur of instinct and need, he lost himself. He dug his teeth into the curve of her neck once more, deeper this time, the bite claiming her in a way that transcended the physical. Gunther surged forward, wasting no time—marking his territory with a surge of power that hummed through Zion's veins like liquid fire.
His eyes widened in the dark as he pulled back slightly, staring at the shimmering imprint of his teeth on her skin. The marks sparkled faintly, ethereal and iridescent, a wolf's brand that sealed her as his. Gunther smiled within him, a satisfied rumble vibrating through his chest.
Fuck. He wanted to pull away, to process the gravity of what he'd done, but he couldn't stop himself—not now, not when she was clenching around him like she was made for this, for him.
He continued to thrust in and out of her, starting slow again to savor the new connection thrumming between them, until their shared eagerness ignited once more. He increased his pace, hips snapping with a rhythm that bordered on madness, each plunge drawing moans from her that mirrored his own.
She was mad for him, and he for her—their bodies locked in a dance of raw, unfiltered passion. With a desperate shift, she crossed her legs above his hips, locking him in place and granting him deeper access, pulling him impossibly closer to her core.
He moaned low in his throat, the sound guttural and reverent. He loved that she was willing to accept him—all of him, wolf and man—without hesitation. He'd never been with any woman like this before, never felt this profound, electric bond that made every sensation sharper, more alive.
A current surged through his veins, far more potent than electricity, as the tension coiled to its breaking point. He plunged deep one final time, spilling his cum inside her with a roar that shook his frame, filling her completely.
"Zion!" she cried out, her voice breaking as her own release crashed over her. Her nails raked down his back, leaving fiery trails that only heightened his bliss, scratching deep enough to mark him in return.
He pulled out slowly, their combined cum dripping from her pussy onto the sheets as he collapsed beside her, their bodies slick and spent. In the heavy silence that followed, they lay tangled together, listening to the ragged symphony of each other's breathing—harsh at first, then softening into steady rhythms.