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Brielle Ashford POV

"Are you going to keep staring at me like that or are you going to take what you came for?"

My voice shakes but I lock my eyes onto his.

"You do not know what you are asking for, human," Ronan Graywolf growls, his deep tone vibrating straight through the floorboards of the Mooncrest Lodge.

He is completely wasted, reeking of heavy liquor and the intoxicating, spicy scent of an alpha wolf. He is my husband Garrick’s best friend. They grew up in the same pack territory, running the same woods, sharing everything. Except tonight, Garrick is not here. Garrick is currently knotting Ivy Cross, that young pack admirer who has been sniffing around our cottage for months.

I gave Garrick everything. I am a old-fashioned human woman. I made him wait two years. I saved my virginity for our wedding night, thinking a powerful werewolf would value a sacred bond. The bastard ripped my heart out instead. He cheated. He broke the pact. Now, it is an eye for an eye. If he is out marking other women, I am going to ruin his best friend.

Ronan stumbles slightly, his massive six foot six frame looming over my short five foot body. His black complexion gleams under the dim lights of the lodge room. He pulls a heavy silver pocket watch from his trousers, staring at the frozen hands. It never moves. It stopped the exact minute he made his first kill. He shoves it back into his pocket, his forearms tight. Thick purple linen wraps cover his skin from wrists to elbows, never bare, scraping rough against my hips as he steps closer.

"I know exactly what I want," I say, stepping right into his space. My soft, plus-size curves press against his rock-hard chest. I am tiny next to him, but the rage in my veins makes me brave. "I want you to make me forget."

Ronan laughs, a dark, dangerous sound. He thinks I am just some random human groupie from the tavern. He doesn't even recognize his alpha's wife through the alcohol burning his mind. "You are playing with fire, little girl."

"Then burn me," I challenge, grabbing the edges of his jacket.

His large hands wrap around my waist, his purple-wrapped forearms locking me against his heat. He pulls me hard against his front, the metallic scent of his skin filling my nose. He slams the door of the lodge shut with his heel. The wood rattles.

"Are you here alone?" he whispers, his breath hot against my ear.

"I am with you right now, am I not?" I look up, catching his half-lidded, predatory stare. His eyes slant like crescent moons when he smirks, his thick black eyelashes casting shadows on his high cheekbones.

This is dirty. This is wrong. It is the best feeling I have had in years.

He chuckles, running his rough fingers over my jawline. He drags his touch down to my collarbone, sending a violent shiver down my spine. The entire pack talks about how many women want him in their beds. Now I see why.

"Not completely," he grunts.

"What does that mean?" My heart hammers against my ribs. I want him to keep going, terrified he will snap out of his stupor and push me away.

He doesn't answer with words. He bends down, his massive arms scooping under my thighs. He lifts my heavy frame effortlessly, hoisting me up like I weigh nothing at all.

"I am not with you until I am stretching you open," he says, a wicked grin flashing his sharp teeth.

My face burns hot. Before I can even process the raw filth coming out of his mouth, he tosses me onto the large mattress. The bed groans under my weight. He follows me down instantly, his heavy body pinning me into the sheets. He buries his face in my neck, biting gently at my skin, leaving wet, hot marks right over my pulse point. I flinch, my back arching off the bed.

"Too rough for a human?" he asks, his voice dropping an octave.

"Would you stop if I told you to?" I snap, my fingers digging into his broad shoulders.

"Never," he growls.

"Then do not ask stupid questions," I pant.

He uses his teeth to tug at the top button of my shirt. It pops off, rolling across the floor. His fingers follow, thick and impatient, ripping the fabric open until my heavy, pale breasts are completely bare to his gaze.

His breathing hitches. His chest rises and falls so fast the seams of his shirt strain. He stares at my thick waist, my wide hips, and my full chest like he wants to devour every single inch of me.

"I like a woman with meat on her bones," he mutters, his voice thick with sudden hunger. "Garrick always prefers them skinny and fragile. He is a fool."

My stomach drops. He knows who I am. He knows exactly who he is taking.

"You know?" I whisper, my voice cracking.

"I know the scent of my alpha’s mate anywhere, Brielle," he growls, his hands wrapping tightly around my thighs, forcing them wide apart. "And I have wanted to slide inside you since the day he brought you to the pack house."

"He cheated on me, Ronan," I choke out, the anger returning, hot and vicious. "He is with Ivy right now."

"Then let us give him a real reason to howl," Ronan roars softly.

He tears his shirt off in one violent motion. His muscular, dark chest is perfectly sculpted, a thick six-pack rippling as he moves. He looks like a feral god. My breath catches in my throat. He unbuckles his heavy leather belt, the metal clinking loudly in the quiet room.

"Are you scared of me, Brielle?" he asks, his hand sliding up my inner thigh, his rough purple wraps burning my sensitive skin.

"Just touch me," I beg, throwing my head back.

He pulls my underwear down, tossing them to the floor. He doesn't waste time with romance. He guides my legs over his massive shoulders, opening me completely to his gaze. He is huge, thick, and fully aroused, his length twitching against my soaking wet heat.

"Look at me," he commands.

I open my eyes, locking into his dark, wild stare.

He drives himself inside me with one heavy, brutal thrust.

A loud gasp tears from my throat as he fills me completely, stretching my tight walls to the absolute limit. The sheer size of him makes my hips ache, a deep, primal fullness that rips away every thought of my husband. Ronan holds my hips steady, his purple-wrapped arms anchoring me to the bed as he begins to move.

"Fuck, you are tight," he groans, his teeth clenching. He drives deeper, his heavy balls slapping against my bottom with a wet, rhythmic sound. "So warm. So perfect."

I arch my back, my fingers clawing at his muscular back, leaving bright red scratch marks across his skin. Every thrust is deep, hard, and unforgiving. He is treating me like a beast takes a mate, marking his territory inside my body. The friction builds rapidly, a wild fire spreading between my legs.

"Faster," I cry out, my hips lifting to meet him. "Ronan, please."

"Take it all, Brielle," he grunts, his pace turning frantic. He slams into me over and over, the bed shifting violently against the wall. He leans down, capturing my mouth in a sloppy, bruising kiss, his tongue mimicking the brutal rhythm of his leaking length inside me.

I lose my mind in the sensation. I am sobbing, laughing, screaming into his mouth as the release hits me like a freight train. My walls clamp down around him, pulsing tightly, drawing a loud, animalistic roar from his chest.

He thrusts three more times, buried to the absolute hilt, before his body goes rigid. He unloads deep inside me, filling my womb with thick, boiling hot cream, his eyes rolling back as he shakes with the force of his climax.

We lie there panting, the silence of the room returning, heavy with the smell of sex and betrayal. He stays inside me, heavy and warm, keeping me pinned.

Suddenly, the heavy wooden door of the lodge room splinters inward with a loud crash.

Garrick stands in the doorway, his alpha eyes glowing a furious, blood-red color, his claws fully extended.