5. No More Rules

_Nathan’s POV_

I barely slept.

The suite was too quiet. Every small sound Miles made on the couch felt amplified — the rustle of the blanket, the shift of his weight, the slow rhythm of his breathing. My wolf refused to settle. It kept pulling my attention toward him like it had already decided something I wasn’t ready to accept.

When the first gray light of morning pushed through the curtains, Miles was already awake. He sat on the edge of the couch pulling a shirt over his head, hair still messy from sleep.

“You’re up early,” I said.

“So are you.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Enough.”

He didn’t call out the lie. He just stood and stretched, the hem of his shirt riding up for a second before he tugged it down.

“Breakfast is in forty-five minutes,” he said. “Your father will expect us to arrive together.”

“I’m aware.”

We moved around each other carefully while getting ready. The bathroom door stayed open. Every time we passed in the narrow space between the sink and the shower, the air felt charged. I focused on my reflection while I fixed my tie, pretending the mark he had almost left on my neck the night before wasn’t still phantom-sensitive.

Miles appeared in the mirror behind me, already dressed in a dark sweater and black pants. He watched me for a moment in the glass.

“You’re nervous.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re gripping the edge of the sink like it personally offended you.”

I let go. “We should go.”

The private dining room on the top floor was already half full when we arrived. Both of our fathers sat at the main table. Elias looked up as we approached, eyes sharp and assessing. Damian Silvermane gave his son a brief nod, then returned to his coffee.

Miles pulled out the chair beside him and waited.

I sat.

Our knees touched under the table. Neither of us moved away.

“You’re late,” my father said.

“We’re on time,” Miles answered before I could speak.

Elias’s gaze flicked between us. “The public narrative matters. You will both attend the closing session this afternoon. After that, you return to campus. The alliance does not end when you leave this hotel. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Yes, sir,” Miles said, though there was a dry edge to his voice.

The rest of breakfast passed in carefully measured conversation. Territory updates. Media strategy. Expectations for how the heirs should behave in public. Every so often Miles’s fingers brushed my thigh under the tablecloth when he reached for his glass. The touches were light, almost casual, and somehow worse because of it. By the time the plates were cleared my pulse was unsteady.

We rode the elevator back up in silence.

The second the suite door closed, I exhaled like I’d been holding my breath for the entire meal.

Miles leaned back against the door and watched me.

“You did well,” he said.

“I sat there and didn’t speak unless spoken to. That’s not an accomplishment.”

“For you it is.” He tilted his head. “Your wolf was loud the entire time.”

I turned away from him and walked toward the windows. “We leave tomorrow morning. Theo already texted. Coach wants everyone back for practice.”

“I know.”

“This—” I gestured vaguely between us. “Whatever this is, it stays here. When we get back to campus—”

“No.”

I looked at him. “What?”

Miles pushed off the door and walked toward me slowly. “I’m not agreeing to that. You can tell yourself whatever you need to in order to get through the next twenty-four hours, but I’m not going to pretend nothing happened when we walk back into that locker room.”

“You don’t get to decide that alone.”

“Then decide with me.” He stopped a few feet away. “Tell me you felt nothing last night. Tell me your wolf isn’t still reaching for me right now. Tell me you want me to stay on that couch again tonight and I’ll do it.”

The words sat in the air between us.

I should have said yes. I should have put the wall back up.

Instead I said, “I don’t know how to do this.”

Miles’s expression darkened with something hungry and satisfied.

“Then stop trying to do it perfectly.”

I don’t remember who moved first.

One moment we were standing there, the next his mouth crashed into mine and my back hit the wall hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. This kiss wasn’t careful. Miles kissed me like he’d been holding back for days and was done waiting. His tongue pushed into my mouth, claiming, and one of his hands shoved under my shirt, palm dragging hot over my stomach.

“Been thinking about this since you walked into breakfast,” he muttered against my lips. “Sitting there all proper while I knew exactly how you sounded when I had my hand on your cock.”

I made a broken noise. Miles smiled into the next kiss and walked me backward toward the bed. My legs hit the mattress and I went down. He followed immediately, shoving my thighs apart with his knee and grinding down against me.

“Feel that?” he said, voice rough. “That’s what you do to me. Every fucking time.”

Clothes came off in a messy rush — his sweater, my shirt, belts yanked open, pants shoved down just far enough. When Miles finally got his hand around my bare cock I was already leaking. He stroked me hard and dirty, thumb smearing precum over the head while he bit down on the side of my neck.

“Miles—fuck—”

“Yeah. That’s it. Let me hear you.”

He reached for the nightstand, slicked his fingers, and pushed two inside me without much warning. The stretch burned. I gasped and clenched around him. Miles groaned like the tight heat pleased him.

“So fucking tight. You’re gonna feel perfect around my cock.”

He worked me open with rough, efficient strokes, adding a third finger when I started pushing back against his hand. By the time he pulled his fingers out I was shaking and shamelessly lifting my hips.

Miles didn’t make me wait.

He hooked one of my legs over his shoulder, lined himself up, and pushed in with one steady, relentless thrust until he was buried to the hilt. The burn and the fullness ripped a loud, broken sound out of me. Miles dropped his forehead against mine, breathing hard.

“Christ, Nathan.” His voice was wrecked. “You take me so well.”

He started fucking me in deep, powerful strokes that shoved me up the bed. One hand pinned my wrist above my head. The other gripped my thigh hard enough to bruise. Every thrust dragged against the spot inside me that made my vision spark.

“Look at you,” he rasped. “Captain of the Griffins, perfect Ashwood heir, getting fucked open by the enemy and loving every second of it.”

I tried to glare at him. It came out as a moan.

Miles laughed under his breath, dark and pleased, and fucked me harder. The wet sound of his cock driving into me filled the room. I was so hard it hurt, cock leaking steadily onto my stomach. When he wrapped his hand around me and stroked in time with his hips, my orgasm crashed through me with almost no warning. I came hard, clenching down around him, vision going white at the edges.

Miles’s rhythm turned brutal. He chased his own release with short, deep thrusts, then sank his teeth into the curve of my shoulder hard enough to break skin as he came. The claiming bite burned. I felt him pulse deep inside me, filling me while he growled against my neck like an animal.

We stayed locked together for a long moment, both breathing hard.

Eventually Miles pulled out carefully. I felt his release start to leak out of me and shivered. He dropped onto his side and looked down at the fresh mark on my shoulder, eyes dark with satisfaction.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He brushed his thumb over the broken skin. “I want you to feel it every time your shirt touches it tomorrow. Every time you’re on the ice. Every time you try to pretend this didn’t happen.”

I turned my head to look at him. “When we get back to campus—”

“I’m not going to make it easy for you to pretend this didn’t happen,” he said. “But I’m also not going to force a conversation in front of the team. That’s the best I can offer.”

My phone buzzed on the nightstand.

_Theo:_

Bus leaves at 7 tomorrow. Don’t be late. Coach is already in a mood.

I locked the screen and let the phone fall back onto the mattress.

Tomorrow we would leave the Summit. 

Tomorrow we would step back into the real world — practices, classes, pack expectations, and a team that had no idea their captain had just spent the morning getting fucked and claimed by the enemy.

Miles’s mark pulsed on my skin.

I already knew nothing was going to be simple after this.