Chapter 3

Richard’s POV

Finally, some goddamn peace. The divorce from that conniving bitch of an ex-wife had dragged on for months, her lawyers sniffing around my assets like hyenas, but I’d clawed my way out intact. Work? Buried under a mountain of corporate bullshit, but I’d shoved it all aside for this yacht holiday.

Just me and Brittany, my little girl—though at 22, she wasn’t so little anymore. She’d cleaned up her act since those wild high school days, thank fuck, and this Christmas cruise was my way of rewarding her. No more scandals, no more late-night calls from the principal about her sucking off half the swim team in the locker room. She was proper now, demure, the perfect daughter.

I lounged at the bar in the yacht’s lavish lounge, the ocean rocking gently beneath us. Brittany sat beside me, chattering about her latest yoga retreat. I nodded along, but my mind was elsewhere—specifically, on the ache in my balls that had been building since we boarded.

My wolf paced restlessly inside me; it had been too long since I’d buried my cock in a warm, willing pussy, claiming it with teeth and thrusts until my mate begged for my knot.

The bartender—no, the server—in that skimpy elf outfit was turning the screws in my head. Fuck me, she was a vision: curves in all the right places, her tits straining against the low-cut top, nipples pebbled and begging to be sucked. Her skirt rode up just enough to tease the edge of her ass as she bent to grab a bottle, and I caught a whiff of her scent—sweet, musky, like ripe berries mixed with pure arousal. My cock twitched in my pants, hardening instantly to a steel rod, throbbing against my zipper.

Then it hit me like a full moon’s howl. That scent. It wrapped around my senses, igniting every primal instinct. My wolf surged forward, snarling in my mind.

Mate. Ours. Claim her now. Sink your fangs into her neck while you fuck her senseless.

Holy shit. This waitress—Emma, her nametag read—was my fated mate. The one legends whispered about, the perfect match for my alpha blood. My balls tightened, pre-cum leaking from my tip as visions flooded me: pinning her down, ripping off that ridiculous outfit, spreading her thighs wide and slamming my thick cock into her dripping cunt, knot swelling to lock us together as I pumped her full of my seed.

I shifted in my seat, adjusting my raging erection discreetly. Brittany was still talking, oblivious. “Dad, you okay? You look… intense.”

“Yeah, princess,” I rumbled, forcing a smile. My voice came out gravelly, laced with the wolf’s hunger. I needed to distract her—fast—before I lost control and mounted Emma right there on the bar. “Why don’t you check out the dance floor? I saw some cute guys your age earlier. Mingle a bit. I’ll be fine.”

Brittany hesitated, her eyes flicking to Emma, who was now polishing a glass with slow, deliberate strokes that made her breasts jiggle enticingly.

“Okay, Dad. Don’t drink too much,” she pecked my cheek and left.

Alone at last. Well, almost. Emma approached, her hips swaying like a siren’s call, that scent hitting me harder now.

“Refill, sir?” She asked, leaning over the bar so her cleavage was inches from my face. I could see the outline of her hard nipples, imagining pinching them until she moaned, then sucking them raw while fingering her slick folds.

“Make it a double,” I growled, my eyes locking onto hers. Looking at her more closely now, a hint of recognition came to mind. I thought to ask her.

“You look familiar. Have we met?”

“Maybe in another life.”

Inhaling deeply, my cock was straining painfully now, begging to be freed. The pull was electric, my wolf howling Mark her! Breed her!

“You know, sweetheart, you’ve got a body made for sin. That outfit… it’s criminal how it hugs your ass. Makes a man want to bend you over right here and slide his fingers under that skirt, see if you’re as wet as you smell.”

Her cheeks flushed, but her eyes darkened with lust—good, she felt it too.

“Sir, that’s… forward,” she whispered, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she bit her lip, her gaze dropping to my crotch where my bulge was obvious, tenting my pants like a fucking monument.

“Forward? Baby, you have no idea,” I reached across the bar, my hand brushing her arm. My wolf clawed, urging me to drag her into the shadows, hike up that skirt, and plunge my tongue into her juicy pussy, lapping up her cream until she screamed. Then I’d flip her over, spread her cheeks, and ram my cock into her tight heat, fucking her like the animal I was, balls slapping against her clit with every brutal thrust.

“What’s your name, gorgeous? Emma? Fits you—innocent on the outside, but I bet you’re a wildcat in bed. Ever been claimed properly? Tied down, teased until you’re dripping, then filled so deep you feel it in your soul?”

She gasped, her thighs clenching visibly, and I smelled her arousal spike—fuck, she was drenched.

“Mr. Harlow… Richard… I don’t know what youre—”

Not minding the fact that she already knew my name, I cut her off with a wicked grin, my hand sliding to her wrist, thumb stroking her pulse. It raced like mine, syncing in rhythm.

“Oh, you will mate. Soon. My wolf’s already decided—you’re mine. Imagine it: me pinning you against the wall in my cabin, your legs wrapped around my waist as I pound into your sweet cunt, my teeth grazing your neck. I’ll mark you, bite down hard while you cum around my knot, locking my seed inside you. You’ll beg for more, won’t you? My dirty little elf, stuffed full and owned.”

Her breath hitched, nipples straining harder against her top, and I knew I’d hooked her. The flirtation was just the beginning—tonight, under the stars, I’d make her mine, fucking her raw until the yacht echoed with our moans.

My ex-wife, work, none of that was important.

Only Emma mattered now.

My fated mate, ready to be claimed.