Chapter 10: Marked and Hungry
Kael woke to the smell of Ronan on his sheets.
Thick. Musky. Mixed with sweat, cum, and the faint metallic bite of blood from last night's scratches. It clung to everything—pillow, skin, the air itself. His hole still ached, swollen and sensitive, slick leaking slowly even in sleep. He shifted and hissed at the soreness—Ronan had fucked him deep, rough, no mercy, and Kael had taken every inch like he was starving for it.
He hated how good it felt.
He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling beams. His cock was already hard again, tenting the sheet, pre-cum beading at the tip. His hand drifted down almost without thinking—fingers circling his hole, feeling the sticky mess Ronan had left behind. He pushed one finger in—easy, too easy—and groaned low in his throat.
"Fuck," he breathed.
He fucked himself slowly—two fingers now, then three—curling to hit that spot that made his hips jerk. Imagined Ronan's weight pinning him again, Ronan's voice in his ear growling, "Take it, alpha. Take my cock like the greedy slut you are."
Kael came fast—spilling over his stomach with a choked sound, hole clenching around his fingers like it was trying to pull Ronan back inside.
He lay there panting, chest heaving, shame and hunger twisting in his gut.
He couldn't keep doing this. Couldn't keep letting Ronan in—literally and figuratively. He was alpha. He led. He didn't get fucked senseless by a rogue and then lie here wanting more.
But his wolf didn't care about pride.
His wolf wanted Ronan. Wanted the fight. Wanted the stretch. Wanted the claim.
Kael dragged himself up. Shower. Cold water. Scrubbed until his skin was raw. Dressed in fresh clothes—black shirt, dark pants, boots. Looked in the mirror.
Still looked wrecked. Bruises on his neck. Scratches on his shoulders. Eyes too bright, too hungry.
He went downstairs.
The pack was awake now. Betas nodded respectfully. Omegas kept their distance, noses twitching at the faint rogue scent that still clung to him no matter how hard he'd scrubbed.
Marcus approached again—same nervous beta from yesterday.
"Alpha. The rogue tracks… they're fresh again. Same spot on the eastern ridge. He's circling closer."
Kael's pulse jumped.
Ronan wasn't leaving.
He kept his voice level. "I'll handle it."
Marcus hesitated. "Do you want backup?"
"No." Kael's tone left no room for argument. "Stay here. Guard the house."
He left before anyone could question the faint limp in his step or the way his scent was still heavy with sex.
The walk to the ridge felt longer this time. Every step reminded him—sore muscles, slick still leaking, cock half-hard just thinking about what waited.
Ronan was there.
Leaning against the same fallen log, arms crossed, shirtless, jeans low. Fresh bruises bloomed on his throat from Kael's grip last night. His eyes locked on Kael the second he stepped into the clearing—dark, knowing, hungry.
"You came back," Ronan said quietly. No mockery. Just fact.
Kael stopped a few feet away. "I came to tell you to leave."
Ronan pushed off the log. Walked closer. Slow.
"You're lying," he said. "You came because you're still dripping my cum. Still sore from taking me. Still hard thinking about it."
Kael's hole clenched. Fresh slick pushed out.
Ronan stopped inches away. Close enough to feel the heat rolling off him.
"Tell me to go," Ronan murmured. "Look me in the eye and say it like you mean it."
Kael met his gaze. Held it.
Nothing came out.
Ronan's hand lifted—slow—cupped Kael's jaw. Thumb brushed over his bottom lip.
"You're shaking," Ronan whispered. "Your hole's clenching again, isn't it? Still wet. Still ready. You want me inside you again. Want me to fuck you until you can't think."
Kael's breath hitched.
Ronan leaned in. Lips brushing Kael's ear.
"Then stop fighting," he said. "Bend over the log. Spread for me. Let me fill you up again. Let me make you come screaming my name."
Kael's hands fisted at his sides.
He could walk away.
He could order Ronan gone. Send enforcers. End this.
But his body was already moving.
He turned. Bent over the log—hands bracing on rough bark, ass up, legs spread.
Ronan groaned low—raw, hungry.
He stepped behind Kael. Hands on hips. Yanked Kael's pants down just enough.
Fingers found Kael's hole—still slick, still swollen from last night.
"Fuck," Ronan breathed. "Still dripping. So ready for me."
Kael pushed back—needy, shameless.
"Do it," he growled. "Fuck me."
Ronan didn't tease.
He lined up. Pushed in slow—inch by inch—stretching Kael open again.
Kael moaned—low, broken—head dropping forward.
Ronan bottomed out. Stilled. Let Kael feel every thick inch buried deep.
Then he moved—slow at first, deep rolls of his hips, grinding in.
Kael's claws dug into the log. "Harder."
Ronan gave it to him.
Hard. Fast. Brutal thrusts that made Kael's body jolt, made the log creak, made him moan like he was dying for it.
Ronan's hand slid around—wrapped around Kael's cock—stroked rough in time with his thrusts.
"You're mine," Ronan growled in his ear. "This hole is mine. This cock is mine. Say it."
Kael shook his head—stubborn even now.
Ronan slammed in deep. Held there. Rolled his hips slow, grinding against that spot that made Kael see stars.
"Say it," Ronan repeated. "Or I stop."
Kael's hole clenched hard. His cock leaked in Ronan's grip.
"Fuck you," he gasped.
Ronan laughed—dark, rough. Pulled almost all the way out. Thrust back in hard.
Kael cried out—loud, wrecked.
"Say it."
Kael's pride cracked.
"You're mine," he snarled back. "This cock is yours. This hole is yours."
Ronan groaned—deep, pleased. Fucked him harder. Faster.
They came together—Kael spilling over Ronan's fist, hole spasming around Ronan's cock as Ronan filled him again, hot and thick, cum leaking out around the base.
They stayed locked—panting, trembling, sweat-slick.
Ronan pulled out slow. Watched his cum drip from Kael's hole.
Kael turned. Grabbed Ronan's face. Kissed him—hard, possessive.
"Not done," Kael said against his lips.
Ronan smiled—slow, dangerous.
"Good."
They dressed in silence. Walked back toward the pack house side by side.
No words.
Just the knowledge that this was far from over.
And neither of them wanted it to be.