Roxanne Wolf X Male Reader Novels & Stories

“You remember when you made me chew this because you swore it was an energy herb?” I laughed. “You didn’t even hesitate.” “I was trying to impress you.” “You threw up behind the well.” He grinned. “Worth it.” I paused. His smile faded slowly. “Ren…” he said, shifting slightly. “Do you ever think about mates?” That caught me off guard. “Not particularly. Why?” He shrugged, but his voice didn’t match the gesture. “The whole fate thing. It’s not the only path. There’s a rite. Two wolves can choose each other. Intention matters too.”

“When I take you, there will be no other man’s hands between us.” The words should have enraged me. They did. But they also sent a violent shiver down my spine. Ronan felt it, and his smile turned slow and dark and terribly satisfied. “You think that proves something?” I demanded. “I think your wolf understands me better than you do.” “My wolf wants to tear out your throat.” He leaned in until his lips nearly brushed mine. “So do you.” His breath was warm, and my body ached with wanting and hating. “I’ve been looking forward to watching you try,” he whispered.

That represents the real question, the singular one pleading to be answered by his jaw. “My wolf...” His large paw grabs tight around my arm. “Come on, Rowan. My internal wolf needs your presence.” Those represent complete magic words where my she-wolf is concerned. Usually. His alpha wolf needs my body? Then your heart better believe my boots are present for his chest. Substitute any single male name from my dark past for that he/him pronoun, and the text would represent a true statement about my weakness.

His wolf stirred restlessly inside him, growling for release, like it was clawing at his skin, ready to break free. She’s ours. Claim her, now! “No, not yet. This ain't the right time.” He silenced his wolf. He met Lena’s gaze, fire and fury dancing behind her lashes. She smirked. “Still think I’m not worthy?” Ronan didn’t answer. His pride wouldn’t let him. But deep down, something inside him whispered the truth that she wasn’t just worthy but also dangerous. And he was already falling.

My sacred parts pulse for him, making me impatient. The wolf looks down at where I am open, curiously. “She's beautiful,” he murmurs reverently. Aren't cannis females like that? I suddenly remember that he's never seen them so close up. I shamelessly lift my hips, offering myself. He lets out his breath. That red eye glows as it stares at me, as if accepting what I'm giving it, then goes lower, closer, closer. The next caress is hot as fire, yet soft and insistent.

By asking for his help. I thought of the wolves I’d seen in the meeting room, their body moving against one another. The vigor of the male werewolf’s hips, the roughness of his hands. Of the sounds of their breath and the glaze of ecstasy written on their faces. I imagined Alpha Xavier moving that way. I imagined him naked and rough, fingers biting into skin and hips driving forward. A heated, animal look in his eyes. It was only for a second. Only for a second, I imagined it. A trill moved down my core. Chills scattered over my skin. I flushed, but I didn’t look away from him.

As if that wasn't enough to satisfy his arrogance. My body swayed. My head throbbed. But my wolf inside was struggling, demanding deeper, rougher pleasure. "Mister... mister... ungh," I sobbed out, my voice completely broken. I let my head loll back against his shoulder. Ronan immediately capitalized on the surrender, tilting his head to capture my lips in a ravenous, bruising kiss. His tongue thrust into my mouth, perfectly mimicking the brutal, relentless rhythm of his hips below.

"Your blood... it's calling to my wolf. Mmm... you're stretching around me so perfectly." I don’t understand what this is doing to me, but I can feel it’s triggers something dangerous inside me. My body begins to radiate an intoxicating, thick blend of honey and wild orchard pheromones so potent it drives Ronan entirely mad with lust. He lets out a loud roar against my shoulder, his hips hammering into mine without a single shred of his legendary control. He loses all pretense of being a guardian, or my father's friend. He is just a predator harvesting his prize.

Roxy sat down on the bench next to her and put a hand on her back, rubbing up and down. "I heard you're in love with David, so I think you'll understand my predicament. Knowing the moon goddess screwed up and mated you to the wrong wolf. But don't worry, I'm going to fix it for both of us." Roxy's hand went up into Clara's hair. She made a fist and jerked Clara's head back. "His mark belongs to me."

He gave me a helpless, wolfless omega—one whose scent makes me forget myself—and then attacked, knowing I’d be distracted. It’s the kind of move I’d expect from Garrick. He’s a viper. He knows how to strike at the softest point. And Elara is quickly becoming mine. I slam my fist against the table, rattling the markers. My wolf howls inside me, torn between wanting to hunt and wanting to claim. It takes everything I have not to give in to either impulse. The door creaks open behind me. Roran enters, followed by a young scout, dirt and blood streaking his face. The boy drops to one knee immediately.