A Lesson in Pleasure 1

Chapter Two

Safira

Mate.

The word should have been a dream, a beautiful, life-altering melody—the kind of sound that should have made me part my legs in an instant and beg for the claiming I’d been starved of for years. But coming from this god-like stranger, it sounded like a volcano beginning to rumble, like a countdown to my next inevitable heartbreak.

As soon as he realized I was empty—that there was no wolf inside me to answer his growl, no fire to match his own—the admiration in those winter-blue eyes would turn to ash. I’d see that same cold disgust I’d seen in Silas’s eyes just hours ago. I couldn’t survive seeing that look again. Not from him.

But… as he held me, my mind was already betraying my fear. I could feel the thick, heavy length of him pressing against me through the thin lace of my lingerie, and all I could think about was how much I wanted him to rip that lace aside. I wanted to feel that cock sliding into me, stretching me until I couldn't breathe, thrusting into me so deeply that I’d never forget the taste of him.

I was standing at a crossroads. I could walk away... or I could surrender to the best night of my life and let this man fuck the shame right out of my soul.

“I... I have to go,” I stammered, my hands trembling as I pressed my palms against the solid wall of his chest, trying to force some distance between us. My entire body screamed to stay. “You’ve made a mistake. I’m not... I’m not who you think I am.”

I tried to unscramble my legs from his waist, but he didn't budge. He felt like an immovable mountain.

“I could make a thousand mistakes, little one, but I would never fail to recognize what is mine,” he rumbled, his voice vibrating through my bones. He tucked his head into the crook of my neck, inhaling sharply as if he were drinking me in. “It’s all over you. This scent... it belongs to me. You’re not going anywhere.”

I didn’t want to go anywhere. Hell, I didn’t want to be anywhere else in that moment but in his arms, yet the fear remained. What if this is just the setup for an even deeper fall?

Before I could protest, he started moving. He carried me toward the back, his large hands were firm beneath my thighs, digging into my ass cheek. Every step he took pushed his cock deeper into the notch of my thighs, and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning.

Fuck, I wanted him.

I wanted to wrap my tongue around him and feel him twitch in my mouth. I wanted to feel his body crushing me into a mattress until I couldn't remember Silas's name.

“Where are we going?” I whispered, the cocktail of scotch and his touch making my head spin.

“Somewhere I can have you all to myself,” he murmured against my skin, the heat of his breath making my toes curl. “Somewhere I can show you exactly why there is no mistake. Somewhere I can prove that you’re mine. Where I can show you exactly what it means to be desired by a man like me.”

Those words made my pussy throb with a rhythmic, demanding ache. The lace of my lingerie was already soaked, rubbing against my clit with every stride he took.

I was a mess of contradictions. My mind said run, but my body was screaming for him to claim me, to use me, to drive himself into me until I shattered.

"Let me down," I whispered, my voice shaking. "Please. Just... put me down."

I knew if he took even one more step, I wouldn’t be able to beg for my freedom. I’d be begging for him to touch me, to claim me, and to finally fuck the memory of Silas right out of my soul.

This time, he didn't argue. He slid me down the slow, agonizing length of his body, my breasts grazing his chest. My stomach trailed slowly over the hard ridge of his abs, as I slid right over that massive, hidden heat of his cock. I almost collapsed from the sudden jolt of pleasure.

He planted both palms on the wall on either side of my head, caging me in.

He dropped his head, a deep, heavy sigh escaping his lips and he stayed like that for a moment. When he finally looked up, his eyes dark, searching mine with a predatory intensity.

"Tell me, little one," he rumbled. "What makes you think I've made a mistake?"

I looked down at his chest, unable to meet that piercing gaze. I tried to speak, to recite the failures Silas had spent a year carving into my soul, but my throat felt tight. The words felt like broken glass.

His fingers found the underside of my jaw, lifting my head with a gentleness, forcing me to meet a gaze that seemed to dissolve the defenses in my throat.

“Tell me,” he whispered.

“Because… I’m just wet wood.” I forced the words out, my fists clenching at my sides to stop the tears stinging the back of my eyes. “I can’t be lit up. I’m… boring. A dud. A…” I hung my head, the shame choking the rest of the sentence.

The silence that followed was heavy and suffocating. I braced myself for the laugh, or worse, the cold click of his heels as he turned and walked away. Instead, a low, dangerous growl erupted deep from his chest.

He leaned closer, his body pressing me against the wall. "Wet wood?" he repeated, shaking his head. "Who fed you such a pathetic lie?”

"My... my ex," I sniffled. "He said I was impossible to desire. That…”

“Shh.” He placed a cool finger against my lips, then cupped my face with both hands. “Little one, I saw exactly how quickly you can be lit up. Just minutes ago, you had those legs wrapped around me, grinding shamelessly against my cock.” He leaned in, the hard press of his body against mine acting as a vivid reminder of our friction in the booth. “Your silent moans and those gasps… they held a hunger that went straight to my head. And your scent…” He nipped at the sensitive cord of my neck, making me lean into him. “God, I’d kill for that scent.”

He leaned down, his lips grazing the shell of my ear, and a fresh wave of wetness flooded my thighs. I wanted to reach down and guide him into me right there against the cold wall.

“I won’t just light you up, little one. If you let me, I’ll burn down every lie you’ve ever been told until there is nothing left but the truth: that you’re mine.” He leaned even closer, his intoxicating scent filling my lungs, making it impossible to think of anything but him. “Let me show you.” He added and stepped back.

My gaze instinctively dropped to the bulge in his pants that I couldn’t take my eyes off, tracing the thick shape of his cock.

The thought of walking away… of going back to a life where I was untouchable and boring, where I was starved of every form of touch and affection felt like a death sentence. I didn't want a gentleman. I wanted the beast. I wanted to be filled, marked, and ruined by the man who called just me Mate.

“Or,” he whispered, his eyes searching mine for the fire he knew was there, one which I had tried to lock in since he called me mate. “You go—”

Before he could even finish the sentence, I was all over him.