Chapter 163 Rated 18 plus
Jolie pov
He doesn’t stop. If anything he goes harder—sucking stronger, fingers curling tighter, thumb now rubbing fast little circles over my clit from the outside while his tongue lashes the underside. The orgasm hits like a punch.
My back bows off the bed. My thighs clamp around his head. I come hard—walls pulsing and squeezing his fingers, fresh wetness flooding his mouth. He keeps licking through it, slower now, lapping up everything like he doesn’t want to miss a drop. His fingers stay inside, gentle pumps that draw the aftershocks out until I’m trembling and whimpering.
When he finally pulls back, his lips and chin are shiny. He licks them slow, eyes locked on mine, looking proud and hungry at the same time. “Beautiful,” he says simply. “My beautiful mate.”
He climbs back up my body slowly, kissing a wet trail from my stomach to my chest, then my neck. His cock brushes my thigh—hot, thick, still slick from my mouth earlier and leaking at the tip. I feel how hard he is, how heavy, pressing against my skin like he can’t wait anymore.
He settles between my legs again, wider this time. One big hand wraps around the base of his cock and guides the head to my entrance. I’m soaked from coming on his tongue and fingers, but it’s been months too many months—since he was last inside me. Pack wars, endless mediation sessions draining me dry, his fear of pushing me when I was already breaking. We’ve barely touched like this. My body remembers him, but it’s tightened up again, closed off from disuse.
He feels it too.
“Been too long, Little Ash,” he murmurs, voice rough with regret and want. “You’re tight again. Gonna go extra slow. Tell me if it’s too much.”
I nod, swallowing hard. My hands grip his shoulders.
He pushes forward—slow. Just the head at first. My lips stretch around him, the tight ring resisting more than it used to. It burns sharper this time, a deep stretch that makes me hiss through my teeth. My walls flutter and clench instinctively, trying to push him back out even though I want him in.
He freezes immediately. “Breathe for me.”
I do—slow inhales through my nose, long exhales. His thumb rubs gentle circles over my hip bone, soothing.
After a few seconds my body softens a little. He sinks in another careful inch. Thick shaft sliding in, stretching me open again. I feel every vein, every ridge dragging against my inner walls. It’s intense—almost overwhelming after so long without him. My pussy grips him hard, fluttering around the invasion like it’s forgotten how to take him.
“Fuck,” he breathes, jaw locked. “So tight. Missed this missed being inside you.”
He pauses halfway, giving me time. Sweat beads on his forehead. His arms shake slightly from holding back. I can see how much he wants to thrust deep, but he won’t. Not until I’m ready.
“More,” I whisper. “I want all of you.”
He exhales hard through his nose, then pushes again—steady, controlled. Another thick inch disappears inside. My walls stretch wider, burning sweetly. I whimper, nails digging into his biceps. The fullness is coming back, that heavy, perfect pressure I’d almost forgotten.
When he’s finally buried to the root—hips flush against mine, balls pressed tight to my ass—we both let out long groans. He stays completely still, letting me adjust. His cock throbs inside me, hot and thick, filling every inch. My body is still clenching around him in little spasms, relearning the shape of him after months apart.
“You okay?” he asks, voice strained. His forehead rests against mine.
“Yeah,” I breathe. “Just… full. Really full. Missed you like this.”
He kisses me slowly—deep tongue, soft groans—while he stays buried inside. The kiss helps as my muscles relax more, wetness easing the way. My body starts to remember.
After another minute he starts to move. He pulls out slowly—almost all the way—until just the head is still inside. My walls cling tight, fluttering at the drag like they don’t want to let him go. Then he pushes back in—same slow pace, letting me feel every centimeter sliding home again. The friction is perfect now. Hot. Wet. Deep.
He sets a rhythm—long, deliberate strokes. Out until I feel achingly empty, then in until I’m stuffed full again. Each thrust grinds the base of his cock against my clit. Every time he bottoms out there’s a soft wet slap and the slick sound of my arousal coating him.
My legs wrap tighter around his waist. My heels dig into his ass, urging him deeper. He groans low against my neck when I do that. “Like that?” he asks
I nod, biting my lip as my hands grab his biceps, nails digging in. “Keep going. Don’t stop.”
“Yes—fuck—yes.”
He keeps the pace slow but adds a little roll to his hips at the end of each thrust. The head of his cock drags over that swollen spot inside me every time. My toes start to tingle. My fingers claw down his back, leaving red lines that will heal.
Sweat slicks our skin where we touch. His chest presses against my breasts, nipples hard against his ink. Every thrust pushes a small breath out of me—soft gasps that turn into moans the longer he keeps going.
He shifts his angle slightly—lifts my hips with one hand under my ass. The next thrust hits deeper, harder against that spot as my whole body jerks.
“There,” I gasp. “Right there—don’t stop”
He doesn’t. He keeps that exact angle, same slow deep rhythm, grinding against that place inside me over and over as pleasure coils tighter in my belly, building fast. My thighs start shaking. “Ryder—I’m close“
“I know.” His voice is wrecked. “I can feel you squeezing me. Come on my cock, baby. Let me feel it.”
One more slow, deep thrust—grinding hard at the end—and I break. The orgasm rolls through me heavy and long. My walls clamp down hard around his thickness, pulsing in strong waves. I cry out, back arching, nails digging into his shoulders. Wetness gushes around him, soaking his cock and balls.
He fucks me through it—still slow, still deep—drawing the aftershocks out until I’m trembling and whimpering under him. When my body finally goes limp he picks up the pace just a little. His thrusts get shorter, harder. His breathing turns ragged against my ear.
“Gonna come,” he growls. “Gonna fill you up.”
“Yes—please”
He slams in one last time—deep, hips locked to mine—and comes with a rough groan. His cock pulses hard, thick spurts of heat flooding me. I feel every jet—warm, heavy, filling me until it starts leaking out around him.
He stays buried inside while he comes down, forehead pressed to mine, both of us panting.
After a minute he kisses me soft—once, twice—then slowly pulls out. I whimper at the empty feeling. His come immediately starts dripping from me, warm and thick down my thighs.
He rolls to the side, pulls me against his chest. One arm bands around me tight. “Rest now,” he murmurs, lips against my hair. “I’ve got you.”
I’m already drifting, body boneless, warm, and completely his.
When I wake to shouting outside, I'm disoriented, warm and sated in a way. Ryder is gone already.
I dress up as I stumble to the door and open it to chaos. Wolves running toward the medical bay, voices overlapping with worry.
"What happened?" I grab the nearest wolf.