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The door had no sign. No awning, no host stand visible from the street, just brick and a handle worn smooth from years of hands that knew where to find it in the dark. Valko opened it before you could reach for it yourself, which had stopped surprising you somewhere around day four and had since turned into something closer to a habit you didn't fight: certain things, he simply did, and you let him.
Inside, six tables. Maybe seven. Real candles, real wax, real flame, nothing that ran on a battery. A woman who looked like she'd run the place since before you were born glanced at Valko, gave a small nod that said you again, and led you to a table tucked behind a wine rack that ran floor to ceiling.
You'd pictured a dress code. A view. Somewhere a chairman of EonCore Tech booked because that's where big, successful Tech CEOs were supposed to take the arm candy they wanted to impress. This wasn't that. This was a place you went to vanish for a few hours.
"This isn't what I expected," you finally said, once the menus were down and the candle was throwing shadows across his face that did him no favours and somehow worked anyway.
"Did you think I wanted an audience?"
"I thought you liked being looked at."
"I like choosing who's allowed to look." He said it without any weight on it at all.
The wine came without either of you ordering it, which made you think he'd called ahead. He poured for you first, filled his own glass, and didn't drink from it for a long time, just turned the stem between two fingers while you made comments about his wine choices even though he had somehow guessed your favourites.
"Ten days," you teased eventually, picking at the bread because you needed something to do with your hands that wasn't reaching for his. "You could've skipped straight to dinner and saved us both the trouble."
"Ten days." He set the glass down without finishing it. "You make it sound like deprivation. I call it enjoying the chase."
"You could've just said you wanted a date."
"I did say that. You were the one who kept trying to shorten it to a dark corner in a hallway."
You laughed before you could stop yourself. Something crossed his face that wasn't quite a smile, more like the start of one he'd decided not to finish.
Dinner went easily after that, neither of you paying much attention to the food. He asked about the project that had kept you at the office past midnight four nights running, and pretended to believe your answer instead of admitting he already knew the real reason, the one that involved his hands, his mouth, and the security footage he'd had to scrub afterward every day before dropping you off. You asked about the board meetings and got maybe a third of a real answer before he turned the conversation back to you, and you let him, because calling it out would have made you a hypocrite.
At some point his hand found the back of your chair. Not your shoulder, not your hand on the table, just the chair, like he'd claimed the territory immediately around you without needing to touch you to do it. You leaned back into it anyway. He didn't move his arm.
By the time the check came, you'd stopped being able to tell whether the warmth in your chest was the wine or just him, sitting that close, finally somewhere that wasn't a hallway with the door propped for cover.
"My place." He was already standing, already holding out a hand you took without thinking twice.
The car ride was short and quiet. His thumb moved once across your knee and stayed there, his hand bracketing your thigh, proprietary.
His building had no name on it either. Top floor, a door that took a key instead of a code, which felt almost old-fashioned for a man who ran a tech company, and you said as much while he turned the lock.
"Some things I don't want anyone else able to get into," he said, casually, and pushed the door open. He stood there for a second with his hand against the frame, looking at you instead of leading you in, like he wanted you to be the one who crossed first.
You did.
You're pressed flat against the cold plaster, your cheek pressed into the wall, a lifeline as your knees are buckling again. You hadn't made it past the hall. Valko doesn't seem to care, he can’t get enough of you like this, desperate and trembling, your dress shoved up past your hips, the fabric crumpled around your waist. Your breasts are bare, nipples hard and aching purple from his cruel pinches, he had been rolling them rough between his thick fingers until your whimpers had turned into moans.
He drops hard onto his knees hard enough to crack against the floorboards, like a starving man. His hands slam into your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh hard enough to bruise, forcing your legs apart, shoving your lace panties aside like they've personally offended him. That first hot, wet swipe of his tongue is obscene: a thick, flat lick dragging slowly up your slit, parting your folds, raking over your clit before plunging back down. He laps at your entrance, tasting your desperation, his tongue rough against sensitive skin. You whimper, hips jerking involuntarily, and he growls against you, thumbs hooking under your thighs, pinning you to the wall.
"You move that cunt again," he snaps, his breath puffing directly onto your throbbing clit, "and I stop. We don't want that, do we?"
You shake your head frantically, nails clawing plaster dust from the wall, thighs trembling violently against his broad shoulders. He doesn't wait, just dives back in, burying his face. His thick tongue spearing inside you, fucking in and out hard, curling up to find your inner walls, then pulling back to drag broad, flat strokes from your entrance all the way up to your clit. You're soaked, slicking his chin, dripping into his open mouth as he swallows you down like he needs you to breathe.
His thumb finds your clit and rubs tight, cruel circles, the pressure brutal and mean. Your back arches into the wall, toes curling hard in your heels, your cunt clenching around his still-moving tongue. You're right there, trembling on the edge, until he stops dead. Pulls back just enough to blow a sharp, cold breath across your clit instead.
"Please!" you beg, voice raw and broken, your whole body shaking. “Please, Valko, I'll be good, I'll be so good!"
He grins, a flash of fangs, and slams his face back between your legs. He's taught you so well, his little trained pet. His lips seal over your clit, sucking hard while his tongue lashes flat against your slit, then spears inside you again, two thick inches plunging past your entrance, then dragging up through your folds until the tip flicks rapid circles against your clit. His teeth scrape your swollen clit, sharp canines pinching the sensitive bud, sharp enough to sting without breaking skin. Wet, filthy sounds echo as he tongues your entrance, saliva dripping down his chin. Your orgasm tears through you, a scream muffled against your own arm as your body convulses around his tongue.
His right hand finds you next, one calloused finger ramming in, knuckle-deep, curling against that spot inside you. A second finger follows before you've caught your breath, spreading you as he scissors them apart, stretching your pink walls until it burns.
You feel his wolf ears flatten against his skull, hot breath puffing against your dripping slit. His tail hammers the floorboards, a thump-thump-thump in time with the wet slap of his fingers pistoning inside you. A third finger forces its way in, thick knuckles spreading you obscenely wide while his thumb rubs tight figure-eights on your clit.
His left hand holds down on your lower belly, palm crushing your bladder. Pressure builds like a dam cracking, your pussy spasms around his thrusting fingers, clit pulsing under his calloused grind.
"Cum," he demands, teeth grazing your thigh. "Squirt for me, pup. Come on."
You can't do anything but obey. A hot jet sprays his chin, soaking his chest. He growls against your twitching hole, tongue lapping up your fluids before plunging back inside, fucking you through the aftershocks, fingers still moving, milking your walls until you sob. Your legs buckle, no graceful collapse, a full structural failure, knees snapping inward, thighs shaking so hard your bones rattle, then suddenly slack. He catches you by the hips before you hit the floor, and you stay there, deadweight, chest heaving, sweat cooling on your thighs.
He looks ruined. His jaw shines from chin to cheekbone, your juices smeared into his stubble. He doesn't wipe it off. He just stares up at you from between your thighs, golden eyes blown black at the centre, chest sawing with breath like he's been sprinting. His shirt is plastered to him, the cotton gone dark across his chest, nipples pressed hard and visible against the fabric. His tail is still moving, short, involuntary thumps against the floor.
You watch his throat work as he swallows, watch his gaze drag down your body, the mess on your inner thighs, the swollen pink of your cunt still pulsing visibly, the way your stomach is still contracting in small aftershocks. His jaw tightens. The muscle in his cheek jumps.
You drag your tongue over your lower lip and let your eyes drop to where his cock strains against his pants, a dark wet spot already bleeding through the fabric at the tip, then back up to his face.
"Are you going to fuck me," you manage, voice hoarse, "or just stare at me like I'm your last meal?"
The sound he makes isn't quite a laugh, lower than that, rough and dark, pulled up from somewhere in his chest. Then he's standing, the full height of him blocking the light, hauling you up against him in one motion, his arm banding around your lower back, his cock pressing against your belly, the wet smear of pre-cum dragging a hot line from hip to navel.
He looks down at where it marks you. His nostrils flare.
"You think you can take me, pet?" His voice has dropped to something barely above a growl, each word slow and deliberate, like he's tasting the condescension in them. He rolls his hips forward, grinding the underside of his shaft against your stomach, letting you feel the length of him. "I've stretched you already, and I'm still not convinced you won't break."
The pout comes out before you can stop it, small and helpless and honest, and his grin splits predatory, all teeth. Then he pivots, carrying you to the bed, and you're airborne for half a second before your back hits the mattress.
He's over you before you've finished bouncing. His claws drag down the front of your dress, one clean pull, fabric parting like it was never there. The clasp of your bra snaps under two fingers, straps shoved off your shoulders without ceremony. Whatever's left of your clothes follows in pieces, shredded and discarded, between half-serious promises of buying you a whole new wardrobe, until there's nothing left between you and the cool air.
He kneels between your spread thighs, his cock lying heavy against your belly. Ten inches, veined, easily as thick as your wrist, the flushed head pressing just beneath your ribs. You both stare at it, your breath catching. Your body clenches hard, a fresh pulse of wetness soaking your folds, because you know exactly how he’s going to split you open. He grins at the sight of you, pupils blown wide, the tremor running through your thighs, the visible pulse of your swollen opening begging to be stretched.
"Look at you," he growls, voice rough as broken stone, fingers digging into your hips. "Dripping already. Soaking my cock just looking at it. You want me spearing you open, don't you? Want that tight little hole stretched until you scream?"
A pathetic whimper escapes you, but he doesn't wait. His fingers slide through your folds, spreading your labia, exposing your dripping entrance before he presses the leaking head of his cock against your entrance. Then he pushes. Just the broad tip at first, forcing you open, your muscles fluttering, a sharp burn igniting as your body struggles to accommodate him. You gasp, nails tearing at his back, but he doesn't stop. "Fuck, such a good girl," and he drives another thick inch inside you.
The stretch is immediate, immense. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as the first two inches forcibly pry your inner walls apart. He's so thick your body instinctively clenches and resists, the tight ring of muscle at your entrance burning as it's forced gaping. He doesn't relent, maintaining pressure, letting your own slick and his strength force him deeper. Three inches. Four. You feel him like a solid weight low in your belly, a deep, aching fullness that borders on pain.
"Breathe," he grinds out, jaw clenched, teeth gritted. His arms tremble where they hold your thighs, a fine tremor in the corded muscles of his forearms. Holding himself back. Just barely. Your back arches off the bed, a ragged moan tearing from your throat as your body fights the invasion, but he's relentless. His hips roll forward, driving that thick, brutal length deeper, forcing your resisting flesh to yield.
"Fuck," he grumbles, voice shredded. "So tight. Gonna ruin you for anyone else. Gonna fuck you so deep you'll feel me in your guts for days."
Another inch. Another agonizing stretch. Your cunt gapes around him, burning and throbbing, your clit aching against his pubic bone as he finally buries himself to the hilt, his balls slapping against your ass.
And then, finally, he moves. He drags his cock out slowly, excruciatingly so, your walls clinging desperately to him as he withdraws, then snaps his hips forward, hard and deep, punching the air from your lungs.
"That's it," he groans. "You were made to take me, puppy. You're fucking perfect."
His grip is iron, claws sinking into the meat of your hips hard enough to draw blood, just a taste, just enough to make your skin sing. The scent of it hits him like a drug, pupils blown black with hunger as he yanks you back onto him, fucking up into you with a punishing rhythm that leaves no room for mercy. Every thrust feels like a claim, like he’s carving his name into your soul with the kind of precision that turns your brain to static.
Your thighs tremble, shiny with sweat and desperation, but he doesn't let up. He uses it, dragging you onto his cock like he's starving for it. The slap of skin on skin is wet and filthy, each impact sending shockwaves through you until you're nothing but a whimpering, drooling mess.
"Oh, you thought you were done? Fuck no, babygirl."
His hands clamp onto your hips, thumbs pressing hard against your hipbones. He leverages his weight and flips your body face down onto the mattress. Your cheek lands against the sheets, breath forced out in a gasp. He shoves your shoulders down, arching your spine, forcing your ass into the air, cheeks spread wide by his grip. The first spank is an explosive smack of his palm against the fullest part of your right cheek. Your skin blooms fiery red, the sting radiating deep into the muscle, a sharp, burning heat that pulses with your heartbeat.
A whimper escapes your throat. He answers with a guttural growl against your back. "You're gonna take it, right? Every. Fucking. Spank." His hand lifts, pauses, then cracks down again, landing precisely on the same burning patch. The pain shoots up your spine like electric fire.
"You little fucking tease." His voice has gone gravel deep with lust. His fingers knot in your hair, wrenching your head back until your throat strains taut. His other hand cracks down on your ass again. "You think you can show off that pretty little cunt in my face, whimper my name, then fucking walk away like you don't belong to me?"
Another smack lands, harder, sharper. You try to squirm as he digs his fingers into the curve of your ass, kneading the heated flesh. "You've been begging for this. Wanted me to bend you over and fuck that tight hole, didn't you?" His thumb keeps rubbing rough circles on your clit while you drip down his wrist. "Fuck, you take it so well, pup. You love being put in your place, don't you? Love being a good pet for your owner."
Your body clenches violently, a gush of warmth flooding out, soaking the sheets beneath you. He inhales sharply, nostrils flaring at the scent filling the air.
"Look at you," he sneers, voice thick. One finger slides through your folds, gathering your wetness, dragging over your clit before plunging knuckle-deep into your cunt. He curls it inside you, hitting that spot that has your vision going white at the edges. "My perfect little puppy. My sweet girl."
He twists his finger inside you. Another spank lands, lower this time, his palm connecting with the crease where ass meets thigh. Your flesh jiggles under the blow, a crimson handprint blooming against the flushed skin. Your sob catches, morphing into a choked moan.
He shifts lower, his tongue finding your clit, lashing it rapidly, then sucking the bud hard between his lips and teeth, biting down just enough to make you shriek. Your thighs tremble, your body spasming around emptiness, the orgasm coiling unbearably tight. Then his mouth tears away.
"Nuh-uh," he taunts, spanking you again, his palm landing over your soaked slit, the impact jolting through your clit. "You don't come until I say. Not unless I'm buried in this tight little cunt."
You feel the blunt head of his cock, soaked with his own pre and your slick, press against your entrance, grinding there, the ridge stretching your outer lips, teasing your clit with each movement. Then, without warning, he drives his hips forward in one deep thrust, his cock spearing up into you until his balls slap against your clit, buried to the hilt.
"Now scream for me, bunny." One hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back, exposing your throat. The other hand slides down, fingers spreading your labia wide open. His thumb finds your clit, grinding circles against the swollen nub. Then he withdraws almost completely, leaving you gaping, before slamming back in with another punishing thrust. You scream, back arching against his grip. He doesn't stop, doesn't slow, his hips pistoning, each drive forcing his cock deep inside you, the thick shaft dragging against your sensitive walls, stretching you anew on every thrust. Your fingers claw desperately at the mattress. His teeth sink into the back of your neck, just shy of breaking skin. Your vision whites out as your body clenches violently around him, gripping like a fist. He roars against your neck, his thrusts turning erratic, frantic.
You can feel it, his knot starting to swell, pressing against your entrance like a taunt. Each thrust drags it back, only to slam it forward again, the swollen base thudding against you. You're dripping, your thighs trembling as he fucks you with agonizing precision, his hips snapping just enough to make you whimper, but never enough to give you the stretch you're begging for.
One of his hands wraps around the base of his own cock, squeezing his knot tight to keep from sinking into you completely. You can feel the veins on his shaft throbbing against your folds, the heat radiating off him like a furnace. His grip is iron, knuckles white with restraint, and it drives you insane, because you want it, you need it, that knot splitting you open wider than you've ever been before.
His other hand grabs your hip, pulling you back onto him with every thrust. Each movement is calculated, driving you closer to the edge without letting you tip over. You're choking on your own moans, your body greedy for more, but he holds back, teasing you. The slap of skin against skin echoes through the room, mingling with the wet sound of your dripping cunt taking every inch he gives.
He leans over you, chest pressing against your back, breath hot and ragged in your ear. "You want it, don't you?" his voice dripping with lust. "You want my knot buried so deep you can’t fucking breathe." You nod, desperate, shameless, nails clawing at the sheets as he fucks you harder, faster, the swollen base of his cock slamming against your entrance, taunting you with the fullness you can't have.
"Greedy pup," he barks, fingertips digging into your hips, leaving bruises that bloom under your skin. "Stay still."
But you writhe under him, grinding your ass against him until the flared ridge of his cock catches and drags across your clenched, resisting hole, stretching the rim taut for a split second before slipping away. The sudden friction makes you gasp. Wetness gushes out, slicking the length of his shaft beneath you, dripping down his balls onto your own thighs, undeniable proof of how badly you ache for him to fill you.
"Please," you whimper, voice cracking. Your thighs tremble as he deliberately lifts his hips, keeping the leaking head of his cock hovering just above your entrance. You feel the tip kiss your outer lips, smearing pre-cum against your clit, but he denies the thrust inward. Your body clenches around nothing but air.
"No." His voice is rough, strained, the ragged edge of his own need bleeding through. His fingers dig into your hipbones hard enough to make you cry out, pinning you flat as you buck and squirm beneath him. "You can't take it," he growls, but his jaw is clenched so tight you see the muscle jump.
His cock grinds against your ass, thick and insistent. You feel its pulse throb against your clenched muscle, the ridge catching on your rim with each desperate roll of his hips. Pre-cum leaks steadily from the tip, smearing onto the small of your back, pooling above your ass before dripping down your skin.
His knot is already a hard fist at the base of his shaft. You feel its pressure grinding against you, not just resting but actively pushing, demanding entry. Each jerk of his hips forces the bulge harder against you, stretching you wide for a split second before pulling back. You gasp at the promise of being locked open.
"Fuck," his ragged breath gusts against your neck, his whole body shuddering against yours.
"I can, I swear, I can take it." You arch your spine, trying to force your hips up, but he yanks you back, his grip like iron around your waist.
"You don't know what the fuck you’re asking for," he whines, breath hitching. His hips piston against your ass, each slow thrust driving his cock to the hilt, the shaft pulsing against your walls like a trapped heartbeat. But you're dripping, clenching, greedy. You need that knot splitting you, need it stretching you until you scream.
"I know I need you."
He whines, a high, desperate sound ripped from his chest. You rock back just enough to feel the ridge of his knot press against your stretched rim. His breath snags. His hands clamp your hips, fingers bruising your flesh, and you moan at the bite of his grip, wetness gushing down your thighs. Then you surge forward, dragging yourself along his shaft until only the head stretches your entrance. He growls, a guttural rumble, and yanks you hard against him.
You slam backwards as he does.
His knot rams into you, thick, brutal, and relentless, forcing your cunt wide. A searing burn tears through you as your hole strains around the girth. Your muscles clench, resist, then surrender with a wet pop. His claws sink deeper into your hips, pinning you face down. Your cheek grinds into sweat-soaked sheets, drool spilling from your open mouth. The knot locks inside you, stretching you impossibly full, every vein scraping your walls. Air rips from your lungs, your whimpers shattering into choked gasps. His hips jackhammer, pounding your ruined hole raw, your body sucking him deeper with every stroke.
His teeth rip through your skin at the side of your neck, sharp pain flaring as blood wells hot.
"Fuck, look at you," his voice scrapes raw, thick with hunger. His hips grind, pelvis flush against your ass, forcing himself impossibly deeper. "Begged for my knot like my perfect bitch in heat. Is this what you wanted?"
The stretch makes you sob. Your body spasms violently around the invading thickness inside you, gushing down your thighs as his knot swells, locking him in place. Your muscles clench and milk the shaft buried in your core.
"Fuck, fuck," you choke out, fingernails tearing at the sheets. He growls, the sound vibrating through your spine, and grinds his hips in tight circles, grinding his knot against your deepest spot.
"Mine," he snarls, and your body arches violently, flooding, clenching rhythmically around him. Yes. His. His mate. You feel his cock pulse, thick veins throbbing against your walls, his knot swelling even more, locking him deeper still.
"Gonna breed you so fucking deep," he growls, hips pistoning in short, savage jerks, ramming his crown against your cervix, forcing his seed deeper, hotter with every spurt. "Gonna keep you stuffed full of me, dripping for days, till every wolf smells my seed in you."
You whimper, thighs trembling. Your swollen clit drags against the base of his cock where it disappears into your stretched entrance, sending electric shocks through your core. He laughs, dark and feral, fisting his hand in your hair, yanking your head back. "Say it," he demands, breath hot against your ear. "Tell me whose cunt this is, puppy."
"Yours!" you slur, your voice breaking. His roar is pure victory.
"Can't even form words anymore, uh bunny, it’s okay, I’ll take care you of, you just have to take it like the breeding puppy you are."
And god, he's right. Your brain dissolves into static. Every thought shreds apart under the relentless burn-stretch-tear of his girth, the slap of his hips against your ass, the salty taste of your own drool soaking into the sheets. The head of his cock batters your cervix with each drive, a bruising pressure that curls your toes. Your hips jerk helplessly against his grip as he drives his full length inside with brutal strokes. The slap of his balls echoes sharply against the wet, sucking pull of your soaked cunt dragging on his cock.
"Gonna fill you up," hips jackhammering now, short, brutal strokes that keep him buried deep. His balls slap against your clit with every snap of his hips, sharp jolts through your oversensitized nerves. "Gonna pump this tight hole so full you'll drip my seed for days." His thumb digs into your clit, rubbing rough circles. "You want that, don't you, pup? Want me to flood your womb?"
You can't nod but you try. Your jaw hangs slack, drool and tears pooling beneath your cheek. Your body arches off the bed, hips grinding back to meet his thrusts with desperate, involuntary bucks. His knot locks deep inside you, the swollen base stretching your entrance taut as it pulses against your overstimulated walls. Your body spasms around him, squeezing out another gush of creamy fluid that slicks his balls and drips between your thighs. You clamp down deliberately, muscles rippling up his shaft as he roars, a raw sound vibrating against your neck, before your knees give way. Collapsed beneath him, you're impaled on his knot, stuffed full while his cum leaks around the stretched rim of your hole.
Valko’s sweat-drenched chest heaves against your back as he pins your hips with bruising force, his cock plunging back into you. You feel the veins along his shaft rasping against your walls, the head battering your cervix with every stroke. He loses rhythm, fucking you with jagged, animalistic thrusts, no finesse, just possession. His teeth scrape your shoulder blade before biting down hard.
“Mine,” his left hand snakes between your legs, calloused fingers grinding your clit in rough circles timed to his thrusts. You arch violently when his cock rams your G-spot, the sudden pressure forcing a choked wail from your throat. His balls slap against you with each drive forward, the impact sending jolts through your oversensitive clit. Drool soaks the sheets beneath your slack mouth as you writhe, thighs trembling against the mattress.
“You’re going to be so pretty, round, full of my pups. Gonna give me a litter, won’t you, bunny?”
He flips you onto your back without breaking his rhythm, his cock never leaving you, just wrenching your thighs wider, knees hooked over his elbows. Eye contact holds you paralysed, your labia stretched shiny around his girth.
"Watch me breed you." His thrusts turn shallow and vicious, the head hammering your deepest spot. You feel your inner muscles flutter desperately around his shaft, clit throbbing in time with your pulse. His release hits with a guttural roar, his cock jerking inside you as hot jets flood your passage. You milk him through it, muscles squeezing rhythmically while his cum overflows around the knot, painting your thighs. He collapses atop you, still buried to the hilt, his breath hot on your mouth as his seed pools deep in your womb.
"Mine," he growls against your neck, breath hot and ragged. "My pet. My breeding bitch. My mate." You moan, arching back into him, your own climax still shuddering through your belly.
After a while, he pulls out abruptly, his softening cock sliding free with a wet sound, leaving your cunt gaping, swollen lips glistening with a mess of your juices and his cum already starting to leak onto the sheets. Before you can gasp, his hands shove your thighs apart, knees bent, exposing you completely. The cool air hits your wet folds, making you flinch.
He looms over you, eyes dark and hungry. A thick glob of his spit lands squarely on your clit. The sudden wetness, cool then warming, makes you jerk. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your inner thighs, pinning you open. He leans down, his cheek scraping yours, lips brushing your ear. His voice is a low, gravelly rumble you feel vibrate through your bones.
"Round two, bunny."
A sharp whimper tears from your throat. You feel the slick trail of his cum trickling out of you onto the sheet beneath you. His hand grips the base of his cock, already stiffening again, thick and heavy. He slaps the rigid shaft against your clit and your wet, open lips, the sting making you gasp. You know, with a shiver running from your nipples to your toes, he won't stop fucking his seed into you until your mind is blank, your body limp, and you're overflowing. You aren't leaving this bed until he's bred you stupid.