Chapter 170 – Angry, Needy, Desperate
Ronan
The door slams behind us, and the silence of the room feels like a prison cell I built with my own hands.
I can’t breathe around it properly. The echo of Eli’s words still burns in my skull. His sharp defiance, his certainty that he’ll walk into Alaric’s den with me and somehow walk back out again.
I see him as he is now, leaning against the door he just locked, chest rising and falling in quick, steady breaths, eyes bright with that maddening mix of mischief and fire.
He doesn’t look afraid and he should be. He should tremble at what waits in Silvercrest. But he stares at me like he knows exactly what’s going through my mind and he still dares me to try and stop him, despite my earlier agreement.
And my wolf wants to. Gods, it wants to. Tear him down to the floor, knot him until the thought of stepping into Alaric’s claws feels as impossible as tearing the bond out of his chest.
“Ronan.” His voice is calm. “Don’t look at me like that unless you intend to make good on the promises your eyes are making.”
“Like what exactly?” My tone comes out harsh, jagged.
“Like you’re on the verge of devouring me.” He shrugs, the cocky little bastard. “Though if you are, you might as well get on with it. I’m game.”
The red haze floods my vision. I stalk forward, and he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move, just watches me close the distance with that infuriating smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He wants this fight. He wants me unhinged.
He’s about to get his wish.
I catch him by the throat and slam him back against the wall, hard enough to feel the shock run through him. His eyes widen, his pulse kicks beneath my hand, and the bond sparks alive between us, sharp and searing.
“You think this is a game,” I growl, my face inches from his. “You think you can bait me into agreeing, and I’ll just follow.”
“You already did.” His smile is wicked. “I always win.”
My hand tightens in warning. “You don’t win against me.”
He laughs, breathless, cocky even as his throat works under my grip. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself to feel in charge, go right ahead Alpha. We both know I’ve tamed you.”
I don’t answer. Words aren’t enough now. We both need this. Hard play to purify the bond again. To scour away any thoughts of Alaric, or being separated.
I drag him away from the wall, throw him onto the bed, and pin him there with the weight of my body. He writhes, not to escape, but to provoke, to remind me that he doesn’t lie still for anyone. My wolf snarls inside me, and I let it bleed into my voice.
“Blindfold,” I snap.
I watch with amusement as he tries to defy the order. To show me I’m not the boss of him. His teeth clench and his eyes narrow as he reaches for the nightstand drawer and pulls out the satin cloth.
He’s not getting a good boy for that. He can wait until I’m good and ready and think he deserves it.
I tie the fabric tight across his eyes. Hiding his long lashes and bright gaze. Shrinking his world to smelling, hearing and feeling.
“Ronan-”
“Quiet.” My hand fists in his hair, forcing his head back. “You want to push me? Then take what you asked for.”
Ropes follow, biting into his pale skin as I tie his wrists to the bed posts, his ankles wide, spread for me. He tests them immediately, because he can’t fucking help himself, and when he finds no give, he hisses out a laugh. “You’re getting predictable.”
The first smack of my palm against his ass wipes the smirk off his lips. He jerks, a gasp tearing out of him, and I don’t give him time to recover before the next one lands. Each strike leaves heat blossoming under my hand, sharp little bursts of pain that make him squirm, his body straining against the ropes.
By the time I stop, he’s trembling with need. Slick soaking the bedding under him. His cock stands hard and leaking, untouched. His chest heaves, his lips parted, sweat gleaming across his stomach.
I grip his jaw, tilting his face toward mine. “You think you’re untouchable. You think your bratty little tongue will always win the day. But when I tie you down, when I blind you, you’re at my mercy. Do you understand?”
He licks his lips, “I don’t think I do. Show me.”
So I do.
I roll him, ropes creaking as his body flips onto his stomach, arms still bound above his head, legs still spread. His cheek presses into the furs, breath coming in harsh pants. I lean down, dragging my tongue along the skin of his back, tracing every mark I’ve left, tasting the salt of his sweat. His shudder rocks through both of us.
“You look incredible when you’re ruined,” I murmur against his spine, biting just below his shoulder blade. “I love when everyone can see what you belong to.”
He groans, muffled in the blankets, but I hear the words anyway. “Arrogant bastard.”
I sink my teeth into his ass, hard enough to make him jolt. His answering moan is sharp, filthy, desperate. My hand fists in his hair again, dragging his head up. “Say that again.”
“I said, ah! Arrogant- fuck, Ronan-”
That’s much better.
I flip him again, back onto his spine, his chest rising in ragged waves. His cock slaps against his stomach, wet and aching. I bend low and take him in my mouth, slow and deep, until his thighs tremble and he cries out.
“Ronan, fuck, don’t stop.”
I pull off, letting saliva string between us, and stroke him with ruthless patience, never enough to let him fall over the edge. His hips jerk helplessly, straining against the ropes. “Please,” he gasps, for the first time tonight dropping the smirk. “Please, Alpha-”
The sound tears through me. My fear, my fury, my need, they all knot into one unbreakable rope pulling me under.
I line up and thrust into him hard enough that the bed frame groans. He screams, back arching, legs straining against the ties. I don’t give him time to adjust. I pound into him, punishing, each thrust a snarl, a vow, a desperate promise that I won’t lose him. Not to Alaric. Not to anyone.
He’s wrecked under me, blindfold wet with tears, chest slick with sweat, cock bouncing with every thrust. He’s begging and taunting all at once, the brat in him refusing to surrender even as his body bows to me.
“You’ll break me,” he pants.
“Then break,” I growl, biting into his neck, deep enough to bruise.
His orgasm hits without touch, violent and sudden, painting his stomach in white streaks. I don’t stop, driving him through it, wringing every last cry from his throat until my own climax rips me apart, hot and brutal inside him.
I slump over him, breath harsh against his ear, my arms trembling as I untie the knots. His wrists are red, chafed, and I kiss each one as I free him. He collapses into me, boneless, his body damp and marked everywhere I touched.
Aftercare is the only way I survive myself. I fetch water, tip it against his lips until he swallows. I wipe his chest with a damp cloth, cleaning sweat and semen away, lingering over every mark. He doesn’t talk, just waits patiently until I take the blindfold off. His chest still rising and falling rapidly.
His eyes are glassy when I uncover them. Soft in a way that guts me.
“You’re mine,” I whisper, just in case he’s forgotten in the last few minutes.
His mouth tilts in a satisfied smile. “Always.”
I lie down beside him, dragging him against my chest, stroking his hair until his breathing slows. The fury that drove me here still burns, but it’s quieter now, banked into something I can live with.