Chapter 7: Wine And Bites

Vardan picked him up at exactly eight. The logo-less black car looked like a rolling coffin under the streetlights. Sora was forced into a black silk shirt Vardan had provided. The fabric was too thin, clinging to his skin like a suffocating second hide. He felt like a high-end exhibit prepped for auction.

"You look like a prized piece of property tonight," Vardan said. His voice was flat, devoid of emotion, his eyes stripping Sora bare from behind the wheel.

Sora didn't answer. He gripped the seatbelt until his knuckles turned white. Bastard. I’m not your toy. The rage stayed trapped in his throat, a bitter mix of fury and a fear that refused to fade.

The harbor-side restaurant was dead. Vardan had cleared the entire top floor just for them. Dim yellow candlelight reflected off glass walls facing a pitch-black sea. The scent of aged, heavy red wine assaulted Sora’s senses the moment they sat. A waiter poured the crimson liquid into Sora’s glass with mechanical precision.

"Drink," Vardan commanded. His eyes locked onto Sora, leaving no room for defiance.

"I’m not getting drunk in front of a prick like you," Sora hissed.

Vardan smirked. It was cruel. "Drink it yourself, or I’ll wrap my hand around your throat and pour it down until you choke."

Sora snatched the glass. The potent alcohol burned his gullet, leaving a dry tang on his tongue. Vardan refilled the glass without pause. Every one of Sora’s barbs was met with a cold stare that made his courage shrivel. The air in the room grew thick with Vardan’s dominance.

Under the table, Vardan’s hand began to move. His rough fingers squeezed Sora’s thigh, pressing hard through the wool of his trousers. Sora jolted. His fork clattered against the porcelain plate.

"What are you doing?" Sora whispered sharply. His breath hitched.

Vardan didn't speak. His face remained composed, slowly chewing his steak while his fingers drifted upward. He undid Sora’s fly with one efficient jerk beneath the table. Sora’s heated skin met Vardan’s cold palm instantly. The nerves at the base of Sora’s thighs betrayed him, throbbing and demanding deeper contact even as his mind screamed in protest.

"Your body is far more honest than your mouth," Vardan murmured low. "Wet and hot for just one finger."

Sora bit his bottom lip until the iron taste of blood hit his tongue. Bastard. As soon as the last waiter exited and the door clicked shut, Vardan lunged, hauling Sora to his feet. Porcelain plates were swept to the floor, shattering with a deafening crash. Vardan slammed Sora onto the wide dining table. The cold surface contrasted with the heat radiating from Sora’s back.

"Here?" Sora panted, adrenaline flooding his veins.

"Right here. Where you belong." Vardan ripped his belt open. His trousers fell, revealing his rigid, aching length. He yanked Sora’s pants down to his knees, forcing his legs wide until his thigh muscles strained.

Vardan spat into his palm. He rubbed the slick fluid roughly over Sora’s opening before driving inside with one brutal thrust. Sora screamed. His hands clawed at the edge of the wooden table until his nails nearly snapped. That agonizing fullness tore through him again.

"Ahh! Too deep! Fuck!" Sora groaned, his head snapping back.

Vardan didn't let up. He moved wildly, hammering into Sora’s backside with a merciless rhythm. The dining table rocked, groaning under the weight of two warring bodies. The sound of wet skin hitting skin echoed through the silent room, mingling with Sora’s fracturing moans.

Vardan leaned down, his nose scenting the crook of Sora’s neck. "The smell of your fear turns me on," he growled. His canines sank into the old bite mark on Sora’s neck. The skin tore open once more. Fresh blood flowed, soaking into the black silk shirt. Sora shrieked in pain, yet his hips bucked to meet every one of Vardan’s lunges.

His nerves were on fire. Every impact from Vardan felt like an electrical surge destroying his logic. He hated this man, but his body begged to be broken even further.

Vardan gripped Sora’s hips, lifting him slightly to drive deeper. "Tell me you’re mine," he ordered through ragged breaths. "Tell me you like being filled by this wolf."

Sora shook his head wildly. Tears tracked down his cheeks. "No! I’m not yours!"

Vardan let out a harsh laugh. He accelerated his pace to the absolute limit. His hand clamped around Sora’s front, stroking him in sync with the battering below. Sora couldn't hold back any longer. His body buckled and spasmed. His release splattered across his own stomach while Vardan continued to ram into him without mercy.

Vardan let out a low, gutteral groan as his peak hit. He surged, knotting deep inside Sora’s womb, marking him again from the inside out. Both of them lay panting across the table, surrounded by the wreckage of food and spilled wine.

Vardan remained buried inside as he whispered into Sora’s ear. His voice was hoarse, heavy with authority. "Tomorrow night, your father will receive a small strike from Corvin. I arranged it. You have a choice, Sora. Join me in destroying Valente, or die with them."

A violent pounding suddenly hit the restaurant door from the outside. Chairs fell, harsh shouts rang out, and the sound of heavy boots sprinting toward them filled the air.

Vardan stiffened instantly. His eyes bled into a sharp yellow, his pupils narrowing into a predator’s vertical slits.

"Who dares interrupt my meal?" Vardan hissed. He hauled his pants up in one swift motion. "If those are your father’s dogs, I’ll make sure they go home without their heads."