Chapter one

Chiara’s POV

"Damn, you’re fcking tight, Chiara," Lorenzo muttered as he pushed his cck deeper. I gripped his shoulders, a sharp jolt of pain running through me as he continued; he looked focused, but distant.

I looked up at him, trying to see something, anything, that would make this feel real—feel like more than a marital duty.

His sharp jaw, the dark stubble lining it, his deep, almost dangerous eyes. Sun-kissed skin, long thick lashes framing those intense eyes—a face that could draw anyone in without a word.

He was everything a she-wolf could want, including me, and he knew it.

This was the man I had loved for years, the Alpha everyone admired, the one who made every other girl in the pack watch him with a mix of awe and longing, craving his attention, his touch, everything about him.

And now, here he was—my husband. I should have felt like the luckiest woman alive. But with every thrust, it was painfully clear that to him, I was just something to use, a toy whenever he wanted.

He didn’t look at me as a man looks at his mate—not with warmth, not with love. For him, I was just an object to play with. His movements were rough, void of any real connection. He held my hips tightly, but there was no tenderness in his touch—just the relentless push and pull. It wasn’t intimate.

I wanted to tell him it was my first time, but before I could, he pushed harder, filling me with sudden pressure that made me gasp. I bit my lip to stifle a scream, tears pricking my eyes. He didn’t pause or seem to notice. Or if he did, he didn’t care.

This was supposed to be everything I’d ever dreamed of. For years, I had wanted him, every part of me craving a life with him, believing that one day he’d truly see me… and love me.

But now, all I could feel was the hollow space between us—the cold stare despite the warmth of his body, the detached look despite how close we were, the distance that separated us even when we were skin-to-skin.

I bit my lip, holding back tears, refusing to let him see how much it tore me apart. He leaned down, dark hair falling across his brow, close enough that I could catch the faint scent of cedar and smoke clinging to his skin—a scent that once filled my fantasies, but now only reminded me how unreachable he was.

I saw him as my everything, yet he looked at me as if I were nothing, treating this as some unavoidable duty. But for me, it was more than a duty.

"Relax, you wanted this," he whispered in my ear, almost impatiently, his hands pinning down my hips, steadying me as he stretched me open, tearing my hymen as he thrust deeper.

Lorenzo’s movements quickened, each thrust driving me closer to the edge, where pain and desire blurred together.

His lips brushed my neck, and for a moment I thought he might mark me, claim me as his. But instead, he pulled back, a smirk curling on his lips as he watched me writhe beneath him.

"Look at you, such a slut," he muttered with disdain. "This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be used like this?" he thrust mockingly.

"No," I whispered, voice barely audible, caught between shame and the humiliating pleasure he forced me to feel.

He tightened his grip, thrusting even harder. "Don’t lie. You wanted this marriage. You wanted me." His eyes bored into mine, daring me to deny it.

"Lorenzo," I begged, feeling the pressure building in my core. I clenched around his cck as he pounded me nonstop. "Fck," he grunted, gripping my hips hard enough to leave bruises.

The tension inside me grew, desperate to be released, yet I couldn’t reach the peak without him teasing me with every hard thrust and pull, denying me the release I craved.

He rubbed his fingers over my clit, sending me into another maddening spiral, pinching and circling, my back arching, aching for more, as he continued to fill me with his c*ck.

"Don’t stop," I moaned.

The shame burned through me, but the sensations overpowered everything else. I was caught in his spell, trapped between my own desires and my helpless love for a man who saw me as an object.

"Yes… Ah!" I rolled my hips, meeting his thrust, closing my eyes, drunk on the sensation that scorched my body, pushing me to the edge.

The electric shock that surged through me every time he deliberately hit my G-spot harder, more agonizingly pleasurable, was unbearable, teetering me on the brink of collapse.

"You want more, huh?" he teased, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he watched me writhe beneath him. "Tell me how much you want it, Chiara."

"No…" I whimpered, catching my breath as our bodies rocked with every brutal thrust.

"Liar." He slammed into me, and I yelped. "Your tight pssy is choking my cck, Chiara. Dare you lie?" He paused, denying me what I craved.

"I want you," I breathed, feeling heat burn through my cheeks. "I need you."

"Beg," he commanded, pausing, breath hot against my skin. "Beg for it, Chiara. Show me how much you want this."

"Please…" I whispered, voice hoarse, defeated.

"Please, Lorenzo… I need you."

"Please what?" He teased, eyes narrowing, savoring every ounce of my submission.

A dark satisfaction lit his gaze as he resumed his rhythm—harder, faster, each thrust sending me spiraling toward the release I both feared and craved. I gripped the sheets, arching my body toward him as he filled me completely.

"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, hands roaming over me. I felt his fingers dig into my thighs, holding me tight as he drove deeper, harder, claiming me in ways I had only ever fantasized about.

"Don’t stop," I gasped, breath hitching with each punishing thrust.

The way he said it made my heart race, my core throb, tension coiling tighter with every powerful movement.

"That’s it," he grunted, chasing his own pleasure. "I want to see you break for me." He slammed harder, and the overwhelming wave of sensation crashed over me, pulling me under.

"Oh God, I’m—" The tension spiraled, coiling tighter and tighter until I could no longer hold back. With one final, brutal thrust, he pushed me over the edge, and I shattered, pleasure wracking me in merciless waves, leaving me breathless.

He drove into me one last time, harder, more desperate, riding my cttx, filling me completely as I lost myself to the sensation.

"F*ck," he groaned, body tightening as he released, spilling himself inside me.

I trembled, soaked and exposed from the aftershocks, and he pulled away, leaving me cold. I watched him stand, casually reaching for his clothes as if what had just happened meant nothing—a slap to my chest.

He barely glanced at me, as if I were already forgotten.

"Where are you going?" I managed, voice cracking.

"Don’t overthink it," he replied, pulling on his shirt. "It’s just sex. Nothing more."

"But… you didn’t mark me," I stammered, the realization hitting me like a punch. Even though I had given myself, he still couldn’t love me.

He paused, eyes glinting with annoyance. "Mark you? Why would I do that? This was an arranged marriage, Chiara. Don’t fool yourself into thinking it means anything to me."

"Lorenzo… we’re married," I reminded him, desperation clawing at my voice.

He laughed coldly, mocking, indifferent. "Marriage is just a contract, Chiara. You’re nothing more than a Luna without a wolf, an obligation I’m bound to. Don’t read more into it than that."

As I lay there alone, memories of our wedding flooded my mind.

The sun streamed through the bridal suite as I stood before the mirror in my wedding dress. Noemi, my soon-to-be mother-in-law, entered and gasped. "Oh, Chiara, you look absolutely stunning!"

"If only your mother could see you," she said, voice tinged with sadness.

I forced a smile. "She would have loved it. But I’m lucky to have you, Noemi. You’ve been like a mother to me."

Noemi beamed, pride shining through her tears. "You’re going to be a beautiful Luna. Lorenzo is so lucky to have you."

Just then, the door swung open, and Lorenzo strode in. His gaze hardened the moment he saw me. "What’s all this? A wolfless Luna in a fancy dress? How quaint," he mocked.

Noemi stepped between us, glaring. "Lorenzo, that’s enough. Chiara is going to be your wife. She doesn’t need a wolf to be a Luna."

"Really?" he scoffed. "You think that’s enough? Ridiculous."

Noemi eyes narrowed. "It’s considered unlucky for the bride and groom to see each other before the wedding. You need to leave."

"Unlucky?" Lorenzo laughed. "I’m unlucky enough to be marrying Chiara as it is."

His words cut deep. I swallowed hard, trying not to cry. I had hoped for kindness, but instead, he served disdain.

"Get out, Lorenzo," Noemi said firmly. "Let her have this moment. Go find something to occupy your time."

Lorenzo glared but eventually shrugged, turning to leave. "Whatever. Don’t fool yourself into thinking I’ll ever play the doting husband. You’re just a wolfless Luna."