Chapter 49 Chapter Twenty Three of Grade Me Harder
Wolfe’s exhale was ragged, almost a laugh, almost a sob. He crossed the space between us in two long strides, dropping to his knees so suddenly I nearly toppled out of my chair. His hands found mine, warm and trembling, and he pressed his forehead to my knuckles, as if grounding himself to this moment.
He slipped the ring onto my finger. It fit perfectly, cool and solid—a promise made tangible. When he looked up, his eyes were shining.
“I love you,” he whispered, the words reverent, as if they were a secret he’d been waiting his whole life to share.
I cupped his face, feeling the roughness of his stubble, the heat of his skin. “I love you, too. Always.”
He surged up, catching my lips in a kiss that was everything—soft and desperate and full of every hope we’d ever dared to have. The world faded away: the city lights, the distant hum of traffic, even the stars. There was only us. Only this.
When we finally broke apart, breathless and laughing, Wolfe pressed his forehead against mine.
His voice was low. “I was so fucking scared you’d say no.”
I smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Then you don’t have to be scared anymore.”
He grinned and then his eyes darkened, a slow, dangerous smirk curling the edge of his lips. The tenderness from moments ago melted away, replaced by a fierce, possessive heat that sent a shiver down my spine. He stood close, his body pressing against mine, every inch of him radiating raw, unspoken power.
“Come with me,” he murmured, voice low and rough, the kind of voice that brooked no argument. His hand slid from mine to the small of my back, fingers digging in just enough to claim me without pain.
I didn’t hesitate. His presence was intoxicating, a storm wrapped in silk, dangerous and irresistible.
He led me down the hall. When we reached a bedroom, he closed the door behind us with a soft but final click that echoed like a promise.
Wolfe’s eyes locked onto mine, dark and commanding. “You’re mine tonight,” he said, voice thick with desire and something deeper—possession, protection, and an unyielding hunger.
I swallowed hard, heart pounding, caught in the gravity of his gaze. “Always,” I whispered.
He closed the distance between us again, hands tangling in my hair as he crushed his mouth to mine, fierce and claiming. The world didn’t just fade—it ceased to exist. There was only Wolfe, only this moment, raw and electric, as he led me into the night’s dark embrace.
His lips trailed kisses down my neck, the stubble of his jaw scraping my skin just enough to make me shiver. He lingered at the hollow of my throat, breathing me in like I was something sacred and sinful all at once. Then his mouth moved lower, open-mouthed kisses painting a path down my chest. When he reached the top of my breast, he paused—his tongue flicking out to taste before his mouth closed over my nipple.
A gasp escaped me. I arched up, threading my fingers into his hair, needing something to anchor me. Wolfe groaned against my skin, like the sound alone turned him feral.
“You’re shaking,” he murmured, dragging his tongue in lazy circles, his other hand cupping my other breast with reverent greed. “You like that, baby?”
“Yes,” I whispered, breathless.
“Good.” His voice was a husky promise. “I’m just getting started.”
He licked a line between my breasts, then lower, and lower still, until he was kissing just above the waistband of my pants. He looked up at me from where he knelt between my thighs, his fingers hooked in the fabric. His gaze—dark, molten, unblinking never left mine as he tugged them down, slow enough to make me whimper. The cool air kissed my skin, but his mouth followed right after, hot and possessive.
When he spread my thighs, he did it like he was unwrapping something sacred. His thumbs stroked the tender skin inside, and I swear I felt my breath catch in my chest. God, the way he touched me, it was reverent. Like he'd waited lifetimes just for this.
My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. And then his mouth, oh, fuck. Warm breath fanned over me before his lips made contact. And then.....
Oh my goodness, My mind short-circuited.
His tongue swept through me slow and rough at the same time, like he was mapping every inch with devotion. I couldn't stop the sounds coming out of me, couldn't stop arching into him, chasing that friction. Every flick of his tongue made my hips jerk.
I couldn't think. Couldn't breathe.
I was drowning in it, drowning in him.
Don't stop. Please don't stop.
He groaned like he heard my thoughts, and the vibration made me cry out. I clutched the sheets, knees trembling, thighs trying to close around his head, but he wouldn't let me. My head raised and fell back against the mattress with a cry. He groaned again into me like I was his favorite meal, like he needed me to breathe. His hands pinned my hips down, strong fingers digging into flesh as his tongue worked in long, torturous strokes—then tight, focused circles around the part of me that pulsed just for him.
His tongue was ruthless, lips sealing around me as his finger slid inside—slow and deep, curling just right.
I writhed, moaning his name, but he didn’t let up. If anything, he doubled down—sucking, licking, teasing with the precision of a man who knew exactly how to unravel me.
I was unraveling. Shamelessly. Wantonly.
Is this what it feels like to be worshipped? To be consumed?
Fuck, fuck, I can't
But I did. I came hard, shattered around his mouth like I'd never known release before. My vision blurred, my body a livewire of overstimulation.
And still, he didn't stop.
He kept going. Licking me through the aftershocks. Drawing out every last tremor. His eyes met mine and held a dark, feral, and full of something terrifyingly tender. He didn’t stop until I was twitching, too sensitive, until I was gasping and pulling at his hair.
“Fuck, look at you,” he rasped when he pulled back, mouth wet and chin shining. His voice was wrecked, his eyes feral. “You taste so good. So fucking sweet. I could stay down here forever.”
“Please fuck me,” I begged, thighs trembling. “Please—”
Then he finally moved up my body, his weight delicious as he settled between my thighs, kissing me. Hot. Deep. Filthy. I could taste myself on his tongue, and the shamelessness of it made me moan into his mouth. His hand slid between my legs again, fingers teasing the swollen mess he'd made of me.
"You're so wet for me" he growled, his voice all gravel and lust.
“You ready for me?” he asked, voice dark silk, voice that burned.
I nodded, dazed. “God, yes.”
He didn’t rush. Wolfe slid in inch by aching inch, watching my face the whole time. When he bottomed out, he dropped his forehead to mine, both of us panting.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “You feel like heaven.”
I dug my nails into his shoulders. “Then don’t be gentle.”
His hips snapped forward in a sharp thrust that knocked the breath from my lungs.
“As you wish,” he growled.
No warning. No teasing. Just raw, desperate need.
I cried out, half pleasure, half shock as he filled me in one ruthless thrust. The stretch was overwhelming, deliciously painful. My back arched, nails digging into his shoulders. He was thick, hard, and unrelenting. There was nothing slow about it, he pounded into me like a man possessed, like he needed to bury himself so deep I'd never forget the shape of him.
"F-fuck" I gasped, my voice breaking with every thrust. It's too much.
"It's never too much", he hissed, gripping my hips and angling them just right.
The new angle hit a spot that made me sob. I was shaking, pinned beneath him, ruined. And God, I wanted more. I wanted to feel every brutal snap of his hips, every slap of skin on skin. He was everywhere inside me, above me, around me claiming me in every way a man could.
My thoughts were a mess of incoherent filth.
He's so deep. Too deep. I can't, I can't even think.
But I didn't want to think. I wanted to be wrecked.
He bent me in half, my thighs pinned to my chest, wrists strapped under one of his palms. His grip bruised, grounding me to the sheets while his cock pounded into me like he was trying to break through bone.
I was shaking, moaning, sobbing his name like a prayer I never learned how to stop saying.
“F-fuck, Wolfe—” I couldn’t even string words together. Just noises.
His chest brushed mine with every thrust, and the sound—God, the sound—wet, sharp, fast, filthy. Our bodies smacking in obscene rhythm, my cunt soaked and sucking him in like I was starving.
“You feel that?” His mouth was at my ear, breath ragged. “You hear what your sweet little pussy’s doing to me?”
I whimpered, biting my lip so I wouldn’t scream again.
He slowed. Ground in deep. Deep enough to make me see stars. Then he did it. Rolled his hips just right, again and again, right on that spot, until I was clawing at the air like an animal. I was close again. Too close.
"Come on my cock" he growled into my neck, "I want to feel you milk me"
And then—My stomach clenched. My thighs trembled. Heat coiled low and sharp inside me, no longer a slow build but an explosion—tight, hot, too much.
“Wolfe—don’t—something’s happening—I can’t—”
He pulled back just enough to stare down at me, eyes flickering with something wild. “Yes, you fucking can. Give it to me, Ava. I want every goddamn drop.”
And then he did it.
He shifted just right, shoved deeper than before, ground into that ache until I shattered.
He slammed into me, once, twice—then held. Ground in, grinding slow. Pressing exactly where it hurt most.
And I broke.
I screamed his name as everything poured out of me—heat, wet, pleasure so violent it felt like pain. A rush of liquid gushed from between my thighs, hitting his abdomen with a wet slap, spraying down his thighs and soaking the sheets. My muscles locked, seized, then collapsed beneath me like I was nothing but ruined nerves and twitching limbs.
My eyes flew wide. Horror swallowed my pleasure whole, “Oh my god—Wolfe, I—I didn’t mean to—”
He stopped me with one hand on my throat, not squeezing — just holding. Possessive. Steady, “Fuck yes, Ava.” His voice dropped, dark and thick with awe. He looked down between us, where I’d soaked him, and smiled like I’d just bled gold for him.
“Fucking hell. Look what you did.”
He pulled out just enough to watch it leak from me. His cock was glistening, soaked in it. His abdomen shimmered with the spray of it. And then he shoved back inside, hard and wet and groaning, “You just sprayed all over me.” He kissed me, like he needed to swallow the taste of what I’d done, “You marked me, you filthy little thing.”
I whimpered. His thrusts were slower now but deep, so deep I thought I’d cry. He dragged his soaked fingers down my stomach, circled my clit.