"Sensors 44, 38, and 58 are down!" Coco shouted, her voice tight with panic as she slammed her fist on the console. "It looks like someone is deliberately attacking the perimeter sensors!" She couldn't fathom what was happening outside. "Zack, is your team picking up anything in the outer zones?" she called, twisting her chair to look at Team 11's leader.
Zack chewed furiously on the inner side of his cheek, his eyes darting across the multiple cameras monitoring the dense forest. The feed was crystal clear, but the cameras weren't positioned deep enough into the woods. He frowned, shaking his head.
"No, we don't see anything," he called back, still desperately scanning for movement.
Luca strode past Zack's console without a word, his steps silent but heavy with suppressed rage. He moved toward Trinity, the source of his current turmoil. All he could smell on her was the persistent scent of Ryan's earthy undertones, clinging to her like a second skin. He thought he was finally getting through to her, making progress. But one stupid, borrowed sweater felt like it had undone everything. He clenched his fists, genuinely wanting to punch Ryan in the throat.
Resting his palm lightly—but possessively—on the back of her neck, he leaned down, his voice a low, scrutinizing murmur. He forced her to look at him, examining the vivid blue orbs with their disturbing pulse of gold flecks. "Are you okay?"
Trinity slapped his hand away—a sharp, definite rejection—and took a decisive step back. A cold curiosity replaced the anger in her expression. When did he get the false impression that they had achieved any sort of closeness? His kindness, during her nightmare was unexpected. But it didn't mean anything.
She wasn't looking for a replacement for her friends, and she certainly didn't need a protector. What little she did know about him was terrible. Her spine stiffened.
"We aren't close!" she stated plainly, her voice carrying a brittle finality. That she knew would reach everyone's ears.
Luca's hands dropped to his sides, the rejection feeling like the most casual, dismissive slap. It was the way his father would coldly tell him to go away and pursue something more substantial. She had brushed him off, not just as unimportant, but as if he had never been important at all.
For a millisecond, he had felt a dangerous softening toward her, a thought that he wouldn't just use her and leave. And here she was, acting all high and mighty, as if she were something so special that he couldn't find her submission anywhere else. The defective had the audacity to shoo him away.
He felt his skin prickle with fury, and his wolf clawed violently at his insides, desperate to be released. It wasn't just what she said, but the way she looked at him—a perfect confusion as to why he would think for a moment that their bond had deepened.
For the first time in his life, Luca felt truly and unexpectedly used. He had never been dismissed so casually by anyone outside of his family. This was a different kind of humiliation, one that made his blood boil.
Trinity watched the subtle, terrifying change in his face, the narrowing of his eyes. She didn't want to give Luca a false sense of hope. If he was looking for a defective whore to dominate, it wouldn't be her. She knew these wolves all had mates, and she wasn't looking to be easy prey. Now that she understood what it felt like to be mated, she realized how foolish it was to waste time growing attached to someone who wasn't. The moment that mate-link clicked into place, she now knew, everything else would fade.
Without another word, Luca turned on his heel and stormed off, leaving his team staring after him. Unlike the others, he knew how to escape the ST's underground bunker. He retraced the long path he'd taken down, moving with furious, silent efficiency. He pushed on a specific, worn panel on the far left side of a utility closet, revealing a secret number pad. His fingers stabbed the keys, typing in his father's all-access code. With a soft hiss, the heavy door slid open, allowing him to leave the underground with ease. He needed to blow off some steam, and he knew exactly who he was going to do it with.
He moved silently through the First-Stages area. It was their lunch hour, which meant the halls were quiet. He sniffed the air, the overwhelming scent of fresh bread, simmering pasta, and all the other wolves making it difficult, but after a moment, he isolated Mona's specific, spicy, and subservient scent.
He found her on the upper floors in the communal laundry room, holding a basket, having clearly skipped lunch to get her laundry done.
Making absolutely sure no one was in the hall, he pushed the door open violently, stalking into the cramped laundry room. He closed the door with a resounding clack behind him, the sound echoing in the small space, before locking the bolt with a sharp thunk. They were completely, brutally alone.
Mona gasped at the sound of the metal door closing with that definitive clack. She spun around, her heart vaulting against her ribs as she saw Luca. A lifetime seemed to have passed since she last saw him, and an eternity since they had been alone together.
Before Luca could utter a single word or even move to touch her, Mona felt a wave of heat rush through her body. Her core tightened, and a familiar, desperate ache pulled low in her belly. Her attraction to Luca was an undeniable, immediate force.
Luca's nostrils flared, taking in the unmistakable scent of her rising arousal. "Finish." His command was low, a rumbling growl that vibrated in the air between them. His eyes drifted to the basket of laundry clutched in her hands. The loud whirring and sloshing of the machine would help drown out any sound, confusing the sensors and any lurking First-Stages. Not that he truly cared about gossip at this moment. He just needed a violent distraction, something to bury himself in so he wouldn't go back downstairs and risk snapping the neck of a certain annoying defective.
Her hands shook visibly as she nodded once, a quick, jerky motion. She quickly dumped her worn leggings and soiled clothes into the washer, the items hitting the metal with soft thuds. Under his intense scrutiny, her movements felt clumsy, devoid of any grace. She lifted the bulky bottle of detergent, the cap rattling as she poured a measure that felt deliberately slow, watching the viscous liquid drizzle over the clothes. She felt utterly exposed, every hurried, imperfect motion judged. The instant the lid was securely shut and she pressed the START button, whatever thin restraint had been holding Luca back snapped.
His strong, calloused hands shot out, gripping the nape of her neck. He steered her with a brutal efficiency toward the opposite wall until her back hit the cool tile with a soft thud. Before she could recover, he shifted his grip from the back of her neck to the front, pressing down firmly. The pressure was a silent, unmistakable command: down.
A predatory glint of satisfaction gleamed in Luca's dark eyes as he watched her knees meet the cold, tiled floor with a slight tap. Her shy gaze immediately dropped, unable to meet his eyes. This was what he wanted; this complete, instantaneous submission. She understood she was beneath him, and he was always, undeniably, above.
With a forceful, single-handed yank, he ripped open the front of her thin shirt, the fabric tearing with a gratifying shred. He savored the sight of the jagged edges of the tear, revealing the deep blush that had already settled between her ample breasts. With the same cold indifference, he let his nails elongate, shifting into razor-sharp claws. He gripped the crotch of her leggings, tearing the seam straight up the middle with another vicious rip so he could see the glistening, shadowed folds of her cunt.
"Open your mouth, and spread your thighs."
Mona obeyed immediately, spreading her thighs wide as she sat back on her heels. Her lips parted, and her tongue nervously wetted them. A potent mixture of raw apprehension and spiraling excitement swirled inside her. This time felt different; still domineering and utterly consuming, but there was a sharp, furious edge to Luca. An urgency she hadn't felt before. His demand for submission seemed far more prominent, as if he were trying to prove a visceral point that she couldn't yet grasp.
Luca unzipped his shorts, the metal zip a loud sound in the small room, pulling them and his boxers down just enough for his swollen manhood to hang free over the material. He let his cock stand proud and present right in front of her face. His palm fisted his shaft, pumping it a few times before he pressed the slick, beaded head against her parted lips. He circled the offered hole, letting his thick precum paint her lips, coating them with his seed.
"Arms up." His tone was richer, a demanding velvet. Her eyes flickered up momentarily to meet his before she slowly raised her arms above her head, an act of utter defenselessness.
His one hand circled both of her wrists, pulling them taut and binding them in a single, unyielding grip. His other hand continued to pump his cock with a slow, agonizingly measured pace before he let the head rest on her bottom lip. Her lips instinctively parted, sucking tentatively at the hard, heavy head. She tasted him, metallic and hot, her core growing wetter with every tense, agonizing second.
Luca's hot cock slipped past the barrier of her lips and continued its relentless path until it slammed into the back of her throat and he felt the resistance. Her hands, bound in his one palm, flexed instinctively, the urge to push him out of her throat a sharp, biological reflex. But he held his position, not moving, just resting at the very back. He needed her to know that this exact spot was the destination of every thrust. She would have to get used to it.
He had barely begun, and her chest was already heaving. Her pink nipples were peaked, hard little pebbles of anticipation. Luca soaked up the tension, the anticipation, the underlying fear. All of it raced through his veins like a powerful aphrodisiac—a symphony of pleasure before he even felt true ecstasy.
Pulling his cock back, he gave her room to gasp. He knew she would need to breathe through her nose, because her throat was about to become very, very busy.
Thrusting back in, he drove slowly to the back of her throat again, pausing like before. She still squirmed beneath him, and he could feel her strained effort to suppress the gag reflex. He pulled back, then violently slammed his hips forward, thrusting without compassion. He relentlessly fucked her throat, thrust after deep thrust. He felt how she tensed with each impact, how her muffled moans were smothered by his rigid cock.
Luca's cheeks flexed with every thrust, his hips pumping forward in a savage, urgent rhythm as he chased his own oncoming climax. Her spread thighs, pressed against the cold tiles, slowly pulled closed with each rough thrust. Her lips gripped his cock tightly, struggling to keep up with his brutal movements. As she desperately sucked his thrusting cock, his precum and her saliva mixed, the hot, messy juices beginning to dribble down her chin.
He watched with pride as their combined mess spilled down over her breasts, slowly making its way toward her waiting cunt. With the toe of his boot, he pressed firmly on her inner thigh, a physical reminder to keep them open. He wanted to see the mess slip between her thighs.
Pulling his cock out completely, Mona coughed violently, her body bent double for a gasping moment, but she made no complaint. He immediately pressed his manhood back between her waiting lips, thrusting even harder.
"Such a dirty little bitch," he grinned, his voice thick with building orgasm. He thrust faster and deeper, past her resistance, his vision beginning to cloud.
With a shuddering grunt, his body went rigid. He exploded inside her mouth, spraying his hot cum down her throat. Pulling out, he pumped his cock a few final, powerful times, spraying his seed all over her heaving chest and letting it slickly slide between her thighs. He wanted every inch of her covered in him.
Pressing the head of his cock against her lips, she obediently opened wide. This time, he allowed her to set her own rhythm, watching with intense concentration as she bobbed on his cock, sucking hard and rolling her tongue over his shaft.
He began to slowly rock his hips, feeling his cock stiffen again. Before it could fully harden, he slammed back into her throat, deeper than before. Even when he felt her resistance, he kept pressing, driving his cock deeper. Eager for her to swallow every inch of him, he pulled out just before his climax. He let go of her wrists and grabbed her hair, tilting her head back to expose her throat as he violently sprayed his hot seed all over her face and into her hair.
"So fucking perfect!" The sight of her—drenched in his cum, breathless, and utterly ruined—made his cock immediately stiffen again. She smelled just like him, and it did something unimaginable to his pride and ego.
Gripping a handful of her hair, he pulled her roughly to her feet. He held her firm as she lost her balance, her feet slipping in the mess of cum that had pooled on the tiled floor. He pressed her hips against the humming washing machine, his forearm pressing hard into her lower back, forcing her to bend over until her round, tight cheeks were perfectly presented.
He watched, captivated, as his cum ran in sticky rivulets down her thighs. The sight was intoxicating. Reaching forward, he slipped two fingers into the warm, slick seed on her thigh before pressing the wet mess against her swollen cunt. He doused her in his own filth.
A soft, strangled sound escaped Mona's lips as his fingers slid roughly between her folds. His movements were rough and precise, the brutal mixture making her moan with pleasure and shame all at once.
"Oh god. Please!" she moaned softly, a sound that was more plea than request.
With the head of his cock positioned at her slick entrance, he slammed in. His entire length engulfed her in one, shocking, complete thrust. He didn't wait; he just pounded into her, thrusting hard and fast. Her hips slammed against the hard, cold metal of the washing machine, causing the appliance to rock slightly with each violent impact. Her skin blushed deep red against the harsh punishment, and she moaned with the sheer, unrelenting treatment.
With her hands finally free, she quickly wiped some of his cum from her cheek. She met his eyes, letting him watch as she licked her hand clean of every single drop. The act earned a low, feral growl from Luca as he pounded into her even harder, his hands gripping her hips with a painful tightness, sure to leave bruises.
The sounds of their desperate moans and the rhythmic thud-thud-thud of her body hitting the machine rivaled the churning of the washer. "Good girl," he praised, his voice thick and rough as he watched her licking up everything he had given her. His disgusting little slut.
He hadn't forgotten the lesson of their last encounter. His finger circled her tight pink asshole as he thrusted into her greedy pussy. He pressed his middle finger against her anal sphincter until she instinctively relented. Her body relaxed, and his finger entered her with ease. Leaning over her, he spit on her waiting ass, using his saliva as lube to press his two fingers inside the tight hole. She squeezed him impossibly tight. With a few short, insistent thrusts, he felt her entire body tense as her orgasm washed over her. Her back hunched as she tried to pull her limbs tighter into herself, overwhelmed by the cascading pleasure. He forced her back to keep arching as he kept pounding into her pussy, lengthening her pleasure as he still fucked her asshole with his fingers.
She clenched his cock so hard with her internal muscles that he felt his own arousal topple into its final descent. Pressing his body forward, he pumped his hips a few more times, hard enough to hear the distinct clanking of the steel dryer behind the machine as he buried himself deeply between her waiting pussy walls.
Breathing heavily, he pulled his cock out. Mona immediately crumpled to the floor, her body wrecked with tremors. His hot cum dripped freely from her still-quivering pussy.
Leaning down, he watched as she tried to catch her breath. Her skin was flushed and sweaty, her body completely spent. He had thoroughly used her. He was debating whether he should claim her ass right now or save it for another time.
With a resigned sigh, he decided he would have time later. If he was away from the ST's for too long, he knew Wesley would involve his father, and that was a kind of headache he was not in the mood for.
"On your back. Spread your legs."
His low, gravelly voice slithered into her ears. Mona felt like her body was moving as if someone else were controlling it; she was completely boneless and spent. Yet, she still rolled onto her back, and her legs fell open wide. She could barely keep her eyes open, but then she felt a harsh, stinging slap on her core.
Her eyes shot open, and a sharp hiss of pain escaped her lips. Instinctively, her legs tried to snap closed. But when she met his eyes, she saw the look that said, I dare you.
She bit her lip as his rough palm came down on her pussy again and again, the sound a sharp, stinging smack of skin on skin.
"Thank me."
The words caught in her throat at his command. It was humiliating, and yet, intensely thrilling. Before she could force them out, his palm made contact with her core three more times. The slaps were harsh and stinging.
"Thank you. Thank you—"
"For…?" His lips held a domineering smirk, one that promised pain if she didn't answer and pleasure if she did.
"Fucking my mouth and pussy—" She watched his eyebrows raise slightly, and she stopped speaking, daring her to skip anything. "—fingering my ass, and giving me your seed!" She felt the heat of a blush that must have made her as red as a fire hydrant, the words rushing out of her mouth as her eyes scrunched closed in final surrender.
Then she felt it. The pressure of his lips against hers, a sensation she had never experienced from him before. He had never kissed her. Her eyes fluttered open only to shut a moment later as he kissed her—long, deep, and sensually sweet.
"You're welcome." He smirked, his voice carrying the finality of a satisfied master. Standing up, he zipped his pants back up, the loud zzzip marking the end of the encounter. He needed to get back to the STs, leaving his favorite toy to sort herself out.
Author's note:
This was a really long chapter! Hope you enjoyed it! Everything's connected. Stay tuned!