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You knew you shouldn’t be interrupting. It was common sense—your husband was a busy man; one of Shouta’s men even said as much, stepping into your path with that overly polite tension that only someone in the Mafia could muster.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Aizawa, but the Boss said he isn’t to be disturbed.”
You offered him a smile, one that was all teeth and sweet defiance—that if it came from anyone else, they would surely be punished for the disobedience that was about to slip past your lips. “He didn’t voice that desire to me.”
Without waiting for permission, you slipped past him; heels tapping softly down the hall. The man didn’t bother putting any further effort into stopping you; each and every member of Shouta’s gang knew better than to try and touch you.
Your knuckles tap against the door to Shouta’s office. Light but purposeful.
There was a long pause. Then, a sharp voice that you adored—roughened by irritation—cut through the heavy silence.
“I thought I told you that I didn’t want to be—”
You eased the door open, just enough to peek inside. Shouta’s snap of irritation died on his tongue the moment his eyes landed on you.
A flicker of surprise crosses his features, fading quickly into something warmer; something curious. You couldn’t help but notice the way his shoulders lost their tension, and the slight twitch of his mouth that could almost be considered a smile. But not quite.
“Well, now this is a surprise…” Shouta trailed off, leaning back in his chair, the light from the window casting sharp shadows across his stubble-covered jaw. “What can I do for my lovely wife?”
You stepped into the room fully at his question, closing the door behind you with a quiet click; the book in your hand now held up for him to see—one of the many special editions that Shouta enjoyed spoiling you with.
“I know you said you wouldn’t be home until late tonight…but I was hoping you had some time free now for a little fun?”
Shouta’s gaze drifted down to the book in your hand, his brow arching slightly as the cover caught the light. Seconds later, his eyes flicked back up to yours; assessing.
“A little fun.” He repeated, his tone flat but teasing. “You do realise that could mean anything coming from you, Love.”
You crossed the room, hips swaying just enough to keep his attention locked on you; and laid the book down on the table beside his files—right on top of something that you swore said confidential. Shouta didn’t flinch.
“Mm, that would be why I brought this with me.” You grinned, tapping the cover with a manicured nail. “I figured I’d show you the kind of fun I had in mind, rather than try to explain it.”
His dark eyes narrowed slightly as he reached forward, idly flipping the book open to your bookmarked page. His gaze skimmed the words, then paused; a low hum rumbling from his chest.
“Werewolves, again?” He questioned, his voice dripping with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “You’ve been on a kick lately.”
You shrugged your shoulder, sauntering around the edge of his desk and sliding into the chair across from him. “It’s not my fault that the stories keep improving.”
Shouta leaned back again, chair creaking under his weight, and you watched the way his fingers toyed with the corner of the page—absently, like he was already thinking ahead. Probably already aware of what you wanted.
“You really enjoy reading about men who lose control, don’t you?” He murmured, eyes flicking up lazily to meet yours. “Growling. Snarling. Pinning their women down and knotting them until they’re satisfied.”
You bit your lip, fighting the way your thighs clenched at his words.
“And yet,” he continued, his voice dropping lower; sending a shiver running down along your spine. “You’re married to a man who’s very much in control. All the time.”
You smiled, running your tongue along your bottom lip while your mind ran wild with fond memories of all the ways your husband enjoyed fucking you. “Mmm…I wouldn’t say you’re in control all the time.”
That statement earnt a slow, dangerous smile. One that showed just the faintest hint of sharp teeth.
“So.” He closed the book with a soft thump before setting it aside; folding his hands on the desk. “You came all the way here to ask your busy husband to act out your dirty werewolf fantasy again? Which one is it this time, anyway? The one where the ‘Alpha’ loses control and knots his sweet little mate in the forest? Or the one where he pins her down in the back of his car and tells her to beg for it?”
Heat flushed across your cheeks at his words, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you leaned in; letting your voice dip into something soft and sweet—a habit you fell into whenever you wanted Shouta to indulge your needs.
“I just thought it might be fun to see if my loving husband could outdo the book. It wouldn’t be the first time…”
Shouta huffed out a short breath through his nose, more amused than exasperated with your antics. “Of course it wouldn’t be the first time. I am the fantasy, Love.”
He stood slowly, chair sliding back on the hardwood with a dull scrape, and rounded the desk. The heat in the room shifted instantly—heavy, expectant. You tilted your head up as he came to stand before you, his body all heat, strength, and lazy menace.
A hand tilted your chin up. His fingers were warm, calloused, familiar—and they sent a sinful jolt of electricity straight down between your thighs.
“You always get like this after reading your smutty little novels.” He murmured, the barest hint of a growl curling beneath the words. “You come in here with that look in your eyes—wanting what would have others running in fear.”
You nodded slowly, staring up at your husband with nothing short of adoration shining in your eyes. “I love that part of you. Just like I love this part of you. That won’t ever change.”
“I know, Love.” His lips twitched into a kind smile; his gaze soft as he leaned down, his lips brushing teasingly over your own. “But I’ve had a shit day so far—so how about you go lock that door for me…and then come sit yourself on my lap. Help me unwind a bit first.”
“How about instead, I help you unwind today—I’ll even let you get back to whatever it was you were doing.” You paused; eyes gleaming with mischief. “And tomorrow, you stay home with me. No interruptions. No phone calls. Just us.”
Shouta’s gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, he said nothing.
Then, he huffed a low laugh and tilted his head; his expression loving. A sight that only you ever got to see. “Alright. Tomorrow, my beautiful wife, I’ll stay home with you and knot you to your heart’s content.”
“Now be a good girl, and go lock that door.”
Your cheeks flushed as Shouta released his hold on you, a sharp nip to your bottom lip followed before he pulled away fully; turning to return to his chair and leaving you to obey his request.
You swallowed thickly, heart fluttering as you slowly rose to your feet. His promise echoed in your ears—I’ll stay home with you and knot you to your heart’s content. It was unfair how easily he could make your knees go weak with just a few words.
Turning toward the door, your heels clicked softly as you made your way back across the room. The lock clicked audibly into place with a satisfying finality, the sound sealing you both away from the outside world of his Mafia. Just like he wanted.
By the time you turned back around, Shouta was already reclined in his chair, legs spread, arms resting lazily on the armrests like the smug, powerful bastard he was known to be. His gaze dragged up and down your frame, slow and hungry.
He watched as your fingers slipped beneath your dress. The fabric of your panties peeled away from your skin, damp with anticipation. You stepped out of them carefully, folding them in half between your fingers and giving him a little flash of them before casually tossing them to the floor.
Shouta’s eyes narrowed at the teasing smile you sent his way. Refusing to rush yourself, you closed the space between you with deliberate purpose; your dress hitching up around your thighs as you climbed into his lap—each movement slow and teasing until you were straddling him properly.
His hands moved from the armrests the moment you were comfortable, settling on your hips; his fingers digging into the soft flesh partially. A possessive gesture that always made your heart race.
“Look at you…” He muttered, voice rough with affection and lust as you leaned in to kiss him. “So beautiful, and all mine.”
“Save all that lovely possessive talk for tomorrow, Shouta.” You pressed your hands against his chest as you nipped at his lip in warning; sparing only a second before crashing your lips to his in a greedy kiss.
Shouta groaned gutturally into the kiss when you gave a firm roll of your hips, grinding down against his erection teasingly; the friction exactly what he seemed to need.
“Otherwise, I think I might try and convince you to pin me against that sturdy-looking desk—the idea of you fucking me like that…hm, I think we should revisit that idea another day.”
Shouta chuckled low in his throat at your bold teasing; the sound rumbling against your lips. His hands flexed where they gripped your hips, and you felt the subtle twitch of his cock beneath you—thick, hard, still confined in his slacks. The only thing more enjoyable than the warmth of him was the control you held in that moment.
“You say that like it’s not going to happen anyway.” He murmured, gaze hooded and laced with hunger as it dragged across your face.
You hummed softly, fingers drifting over his chest slowly and drifting down to the waistband of his pants. “Maybe…but right now, I like this better. So who knows, maybe I’ll behave for you.”
Shouta didn’t stop you—not even when your hands unfastened the button and slid the zipper down with excruciating slowness. You kissed him again, softer this time, as your fingers slipped into his pants and coaxed his cock free from its confines.
He hissed at the contact, a short, sharp sound that turned into a low growl when you gave a slow, deliberate stroke. He was already leaking—impossibly hot in your hand.
You made a show of it—stroking him slowly, spreading his precum with your thumb, feeling him twitch against your palm as you leaned forward and nipped at his bottom lip with mock innocence. “You’re so sensitive today, Shouta.”
He growled again, one hand flying up to tangle in your hair. His grip was firm, tilting your head back; exposing your throat to his eyes and teeth alike. “If you keep teasing me like this, Love—then I’m going to spend all of tomorrow holding you just like this. Until you’re aching and begging…never allowed to orgasm.”
Your breath hitched. Shouta knew exactly how to make you melt beneath his touch, and you loved him for it. But you weren’t going to give up control just yet; you were supposed to be helping him unwind.
Loosening your grip on his cock, you lifted your hips enough to shift your weight, guiding him to your entrance with practiced ease. The thick head of his cock brushed against your folds, slick with need.
You took your time—not because you needed to adjust, but because you knew it would drive him mad. You watched his face the entire time, smiling at the way his jaw clenched, how his nostrils flared as he tried his best to keep himself from taking control.
Then, you sank down slowly.
Your moan curled in the back of your throat, just as Shouta let out a strained, rasping breath—his cock stretching you open inch by thick inch. The ache of him was as familiar as it was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help the way your head tilted back once you bottomed out.
He filled you completely—perfectly—his knot pressing snugly against your folds, but not yet pushing inside.
You stayed like that for a long moment, rocking your hips in gentle, slow circles; the motion grinding your clit against the base of him, your pussy squeezing around his cock with each tiny movement.
You felt his fingers tighten on your hips, the flex of restraint written in every tense line of his body.
“You’re going to kill me.” He rasped out, voice rough and low; the kind of pitch you usually heard during his ruts.
You smiled widely, leaning in until your lips brushed against his ear teasingly. “I’m just trying to help you unwind, Shouta…”
You rolled your hips again; slow, sinfully deep, and Shouta’s breath caught. His head fell back slightly, exposing his throat—and that unspoken surrender sparked something fierce inside you.
Because while your husband could be terrifying and dominant in every other part of his life, this was just for you. This was yours. And in this moment, he was letting you take the lead.
You kept the rhythm steady—every slow rise and fall of your hips had his jaw clenched tight, a light sheen of sweat beginning to build over his brow. Shouta wasn’t even trying to hide the way his fingers gripped your waist harder with every grind that brought your slick folds down against the thick swell of his knot.
You let out a quiet moan each time your clit brushed over his knot, each teasing press sending a shudder of pleasure through you and earning a strained groan from deep within his chest.
His knot throbbed beneath you—half-swollen, but not quite there yet.
“Love…” His voice was taut with barely held restraint. “If you don’t—fuck—if you don’t stop grinding down on my knot like that, I’m not going to be able to keep control of myself…”
You gave a low hum in your throat, the next roll of your hips slower than before—deeper, dragging the thick length of him through every inch of your slick heat. You lifted just enough to grind back down with purpose; your folds spreading wider around the pressure of his knot.
Shouta’s hips jerked upward harshly, forcing a gasp from your lips as he bucked into you; his knot pressing more insistently against your entrance.
“I told you.” He growled low, a rasped-out warning. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to knot you right here in this chair.”
You tilted your head to the side, letting your lips ghost over his jaw as your hips gave another slow, deliberate grind that made both of you groan out at the sensation.
“But I’m supposed to be helping you unwind, remember?” Your voice was syrupy-sweet, laced with the kind of mischief that always seemed to get you in trouble with him.
Shouta snarled out—a deep, chest-wracking sound of warning and hunger all wrapped up into one—and before you could blink, his grip on your hips tightened viciously.
Then, he stood.
Your breath caught in your chest as your body was hauled up with him, his cock still buried deep inside you, the sudden shift in position pulling a surprised moan from your throat. You barely had time to process the movement before your back hit the cool surface of his desk with a thud; scattering paperwork and top-secret files alike.
The special edition book he’d gifted you sliding to the floor with a solid thump.
“Shouta—!” You cried out his name, clinging to his shoulders as he loomed over you, the stubble along his jaw beginning to bristle; his lips pulled back from his teeth in a growl—sharper now. Fangs glinting beneath the office light.
And then you felt it. The shift.
It began deep inside you—a slow, swelling pressure that had your breath catching in your throat.
His cock twitched violently within you, thickening further, lengthening just enough to push against places that made your vision blur. But it was more than just the size of his cock—he was changing.
His temperature spiked, a low growl vibrated through his chest and into yours as the bristle of fur spread along his jaw, and down his throat before curling along his arms where his sleeves seemed to vanish. No rips. No shreds. Just gone. Like his clothes had never been there at all.
Your eyes fluttered as your body stretched around him again, straining to accommodate his size while simultaneously clenching at the overwhelming fullness; your body aching for the way every inch of him grew harder, and hotter—until you were arching into him with a breathy whine. Your legs trembling against the sides of his hips.
“Shouta—” You gasped out again, voice cracking while your fingers curled uselessly against his now bare shoulders. His fur was warm and dense beneath your touch, shifting with strength as his broad, fully shifted form hovered above you.
You didn’t have an opportunity to say anything more before his sharp fangs grazed your throat.
The growl that rumbled against your skin was low, claiming—possessive. And then his claws—longer now, sharper—dragged slowly along your sides. Not cutting, but enough to make you shiver—enough to leave your skin tingling where they scraped over your ribs and up to your arms.
Before you realised what he was up to, Shouta had you pinned to the desk. Large, clawed hands encasing your wrists, pressing them flat against the desk beside your head. His entire body looming over yours; more beast than man, eyes dark and burning with a need you had filled him with.
You were utterly caged—helpless beneath him and desperate for more, turned on more by how quickly he had snapped.
Your back arched as Shouta pressed into you deeply—deeper than he ever could in his human form. The fullness was dizzying, almost maddening, and your body trembled under the pressure of it. His chest was flush to yours now, fur brushing against your hardened nipples through the thin material of your dress.
Then, slowly, Shouta began to pull out. Almost all the way.
You gasped out, the sudden emptiness making your body clench around nothing; desperate to drag him back in. His cock lingered at your entrance; tapered tip barely nestled between your folds with your slick coating him.
After a moment, when you opened your mouth to question him, Shouta slammed back into you—your cry echoing off the walls; sharp, broken, and breathless. The force of his thrust rocked your whole body, jolting you down against the desk as your hands strained in his grip.
“Fuck—Shouta—!”
Another thrust. Brutal. Precise.
You sobbed out his name again, hips jerking and trying to move in time with him, but finding it impossible under the crushing weight of his body and the way he kept your wrists firmly pinned in place.
Shouta set an unforgiving rhythm. Each time he pulled out, it was torturously slow—until the tip of his cock was pressed at your entrance—and then he snapped back in with punishing force. Again. And again.
The desk creaked beneath you loudly, the edges digging into your back as your body rocked in time with his movements.
You tried to speak—to say something, anything—but it was all gasped out moans and desperate cries until you finally managed to stammer out a somewhat coherent plea.
“Sh-Shouta, wait—just let me—”
His snarl cut through your plea, sharp and commanding as his muzzle brushed against your ear.
“You didn’t want to listen to my warning, Love.” He growled out, his voice rough with need; feral, almost. “So now you’re going to be a good girl for me, and help me unwind like you were supposed to.”
You whimpered beneath him loudly, toes curling as your body spasmed around his cock; your walls fluttering with each deep thrust of his hips.
“I’m not stopping until I forget what stress feels like.” He grunted, moving his head to nip along your throat; careful of the sharpness of his fangs. “Then, I’ll let you rest. You can sit pretty in my lap and keep my knot warm for me. Tomorrow, you’ll show me whatever it was you wanted to try from your book. If you still think you can take it after I’m finished with you today.”
He thrust his hips again—harder, sharper—and your whole body jolted from the force of it; a broken sob slipping past your lips. Pleasure and desperation tangling tight within you.
Your breath hitched sharply as Shouta’s pace became relentless—each thrust dragging another cry from your throat; each grind of his knot against your clit sending white-hot sparks through your veins.
You couldn’t think—couldn’t breathe—not with the way he owned every inch of your body so completely. Your wrists strained under his grip as your back arched instinctively, trying to ease the delicious pressure building in the pit of your stomach. The stretch, the fullness—it was too much.
“Shouta…Shouta please—I-I can’t!” You choked out, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as your orgasm threatened to crash down over you. Your body was trembling beneath him, so sensitive and wet; your thighs slick and shaking.
“You can.” He growled out, nipping at the curve of your neck with just enough bite to make you whimper. “You’re going to.”
And then he shifted his position, adjusting his angle slightly—and you screamed, your vision white as he slammed deep; his knot grinding directly against your clit, sending you over the edge with a devastating force.
Your orgasm tore through you like a wave, your legs locking around his hips; your walls clenching so tightly around his cock that he gave a loud snarl—losing the last of his restraint.
With one final, brutal, thrust, Shouta forced his swollen knot inside you—stretching you impossibly wide before it locked in place with a satisfying, wet pop.
You sobbed out his name as the pressure became blissfully unbearable; his knot anchoring you to him completely, his release flooding you in thick, hot pulses.
Your body trembled violently beneath him, too full—too unprepared to take his shifted form when he would usually ease you into taking his larger cock—and yet craving more with every ragged breath.
You barely had time to catch your breath.
Just as the waves of your orgasm began to fade, and your body slumped beneath him, boneless and thoroughly satisfied—Shouta moved again.
You felt it first in the way his grip shifted, claws retracting slightly as he released your wrists. Then, his hands slid down, palms grazing over your waist before settling firmly at your hips.
And then he lifted you.
A sharp, startled whimper escaped you as he angled your hips upward, his knot still locked inside your aching pussy. The pressure shifted, deepened—and your thighs squirmed uselessly against his sides as the sensation overwhelmed you all over again.
“Shouta—!” You gasped out, trying to squirm in his hold; but his hands were too strong for you to do anything successful. “Y-You can’t—your knot—Shouta, please!”
But he only rumbled low in response. The sound rolled through his chest and vibrated straight into your bones. His muzzle nuzzled against your jaw, lips brushing over the shell of your ear as his hips began to move again—short, rutting jerks that made your entire body bounce against his desk.
You cried out, breath hitching as the base of his knot dragged against your already oversensitive clit with every thrust. It was too much. Your pussy clenched helplessly around the thick swell still locked inside you, each movement stoking the burning hot fire inside you again.
“Shh, Love.” He growled out, voice hoarse but steady. “I’m not done with you yet. I told you, I’m not stopping until I forget what stress feels like.”
You whimpered again, louder this time, your voice cracking. “Shouta—I can’t—I’ll break…!”
“You won’t.” He insisted softly, grinding his hips forward in a slow, agonising circle that had your mouth falling open in a soundless cry. “You’re my wife. You’ve taken me countless times before. You can take me again. You just need to relax—let me take care of you.”
His teeth scraped along the underside of your jaw in a careful nip as he punctuated his words with another hard thrust—his knot tugging against your entrance before lodging even deeper; sending shockwaves throughout your body.
Tears rolled down your cheeks—helpless, breathless tears that had nothing to do with pain, and everything to do with the staggering pleasure and raw intimacy of being so thoroughly fucked by your beast of a husband.
Shouta’s voice dropped into a low, soothing rumble, his muzzle brushing against your cheek. “That’s it. Good girl…just relax and take it all, I knew you could do it.”
He kept moving—deep, grinding thrusts that had your body rocking beneath him, the desk creaking again with the force of each motion. His knot stayed locked inside you, dragging delicious, maddening friction over your clit with every subtle jerk of his hips.
You couldn’t form words anymore.
Your mouth hung open, gasping against his shoulder, trying to sob something—his name, maybe even a plea for mercy you knew he wouldn’t give—but all that came out were broken, breathy moans. Your fingers clawed weakly at his back, sliding through fur as your body shook violently beneath him.
Shouta was panting now. Growling between breaths, his voice low and wrecked, his rhythm turning frantic. “That’s it…you’re doing so good—taking me so well.”
You whimpered—your only answer—as another wave of pleasure coiled tight in the pit of your stomach. Too fast. Too soon.
“I can feel your pussy clenching around me…” He groaned, his claws digging into your hips through your dress as he rutted into you with brutal, barely-controlled movements that had you seeing stars. “You’re close again, aren’t you?”
You nodded against him, eyes rolling back, tears wetting your cheeks as your back arched sharply—your orgasm slamming down over you without mercy. Your cry was hoarse, torn from your lungs, your body locking up and clenching down around him so tightly that you felt his cock throb violently in response.
Still, Shouta didn’t stop rutting into you.
“That’s it, Love. Just let it happen—I’ll fuck you through every last one. It’s alright, you can take it.”