All Chapters of Feral Attraction : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

LEO'S ROUGH PLAY 2“I love you more,” Leo rumbled and rolled off her, his breath still coming in heavy gusts. The warmth of his body left a chill on her skin. He sat up on the edge of the bed, his broad back a landscape of muscle and sweat.Lila watched him, her own heart still hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Her wrists felt raw and wonderful from the cuffs, her entire body thrumming with spent pleasure and a deep, insatiable hunger for more. He turned his head, his profile sharp in the dim light. Amber eyes glinted with a predatory, knowing light. A slow, wicked smile curved his lips.“I’ve been saving something for a day like this.” He grunted. Her breath caught. She watched, transfixed, as he stood. He moved to the closet with a predatory grace.He was holding an object when he turned back. It was a riding crop. Sleek, black leather, with a short, tapered flap at the end.He walked back to the bed, the crop held loosely at his side. “You asked for everything. “We ar

The scent hit me the moment I stepped into their living room on my arrival from the pack house around two in the afternoon. Gal was the only one in the living room watching a sit-com on TV.That rich metallic, utterly intoxicating scent. I drew a slow breath through my nose, my whole body humming with a sudden, primal awareness. There it was. I knew. I always knew. Her blood always called me whenever she was on.After we hugged and she welcomed me back with a kiss, I turned her to face me, my hands already on the button of her jeans. My voice came out a low, gravelly rumble, barely human. “Are you on your period?”“Yes,” she nodded. It started just after breakfast, not long ago.”“Let's go to your room,” I said in a guttural voice. I dropped my duffel bag on the floor. My cock was already hard, straining against my jeans, every shift of her denim-clad legs a fresh torment. That subtle, coppery perfume of her filled the small space, a siren’s call that made my mouth water and my contr

I helped her, shoving my jeans and boxers down just enough to free myself. My cock sprang out, thick and aching, the head already slick with my own need. I positioned myself at her entrance, the heat radiating from her almost overwhelming.I pushed in.Slow.So fucking slow.The tight, wet clasp of her was heaven. The added slickness, the faint, metallic trace I could still taste in the air, made it something else entirely. Something sacred and filthy and perfect. I sank to the hilt, a groan tearing from me as her body fully accepted mine.“You will always be mine,” I whispered into the skin of her neck, my hips beginning to move.Her only answer was a sharp, shuddering inhale, her nails digging into the muscles of my back. I began to move.My hips drew back with aching slowness, letting her feel every inch of my withdrawal before driving forward again. Not hard. Not yet. A deep, rolling rhythm that made her whimper. Her legs locked around my waist, pulling me deeper. The scent of her

When the coach handed me the captain’s armband later in the week, it felt lighter than I expected and heavier all at once.Evan clapped me on the shoulder first, his grin easy and sincere. “You’ll do great,” he said, like he wasn’t passing over something he’d carried with pride for two seasons. Evan had always led with steadiness, with patience. Taking over from him wasn’t about replacing; it was about continuing something that mattered.I slipped the band over my wrist and looked out at the field. The grass was still damp from the morning mist, the lines freshly painted, the goalposts standing like quiet sentinels. The new session had that effect on me, everything familiar looked sharper, more important, like it knew time was limited.“Captain Milo,” someone called out teasingly.I laughed, shaking my head. “Don’t make it weird.”But inside, something settled. I loved the responsibility: I had secretly hoped for it. I had actually discussed it a few times with Gal over the summer. B

I always forgot how magical Valley Stone could look when the founders’ banners went up a few weeks later.By four o’clock that Friday, the entire town had spilled into the streets. Strings of golden lights crisscrossed the square, swaying gently in the late-summer breeze. Lanterns; bright reds, soft blues, moonlit whites hung from the wooden poles like weightless fire. Kids darted between legs, laughter ringing like bells. The food trucks and homemade stalls lined the street in rows, each one offering something warm enough to tempt anyone: smoked turkey legs, grilled corn coated in spiced butter, peppered suya fresh from the flame, pies that steamed beneath glass. The air smelled like sugar, fire, and happiness.Gal stood beside me at our volunteer booth, adjusting the sign that read Tickets. The paint was still tacky, and her fingertips smudged a small streak at the corner. She clicked her tongue and wiped the smear off with the edge of her shirt.“You’re too perfect,” I said, leani