My heart pounded wildly as he hovered above me, his expression a mix of raw hunger and daring confidence. The crescent mark at his brow pulsed silver in time with his heartbeat, and the silver wolf luminescence beneath his skin made him look like something carved from moonlight and fury.
"Atlas," I murmured, my voice thick, barely recognizable even to myself.
"Mine," he repeated, almost a growl, leaning in so his lips brushed softly against my ear.
"Always yours," I breathed without hesitation.
He pulled back, eyes glittering with satisfaction, and a small, wicked smile played at the corners of his lips.
Every gentle trace of tenderness from our previous nights melted away. Atlas was unrecognizable: every move he made radiated power, confidence, and an insatiable need I'd never seen in him before.
The rut had stripped away every layer of hesitation, every wall he'd built from years of being told he wasn't enough, and what remained was something elemental and breathtaking.
And I loved it.
I surrendered willingly, watching in awe as he explored every inch of my skin with bold, unapologetic hunger.
His hands mapped the terrain of my chest and shoulders like he was claiming territory, fingers pressing into the hard ridges of muscle, palms dragging across scars he already knew by touch.
My pulse quickened when his teeth grazed along the curve of my throat. Then suddenly, he bit down—hard. The sting blurred quickly into a rush of pleasure, igniting every nerve ending in my body.
"Fuck, Atlas," I groaned, voice strained.
My grip tightened reflexively on his hips, but he growled low against my neck, making it clear who was leading this time. The sound sent a thrill coursing through my veins—Sirius rumbled in approval, something ancient in him recognizing this for what it was. A claim.
I watched, breathless, as Atlas shifted his hips, taking complete control of our rhythm. He moved with intoxicating confidence, his body pressed tight against mine, every motion deliberate and possessive.
The lean muscles of his thighs flexed against my sides as he rolled his hips slowly, deliberately, driving me close to the edge. My fingers gripped his thighs so tightly I was sure I'd leave bruises.
He didn't mind. It only made him smile—that same wicked smile I'd never seen before tonight.
"I like when you hold me like that," he said, voice low and breathless, dripping with need. "Don't stop."
"Wouldn't dream of it," I groaned, barely recognizing my own voice.
His movements grew bolder, faster, more intense, each roll of his hips pulling me closer to the brink. My hands roamed over his waist, tracing the cut of muscle along his obliques, the ridge of his hip bones, the taut plane of his stomach.
He felt like fire given form—hot, powerful, perfect.
He leaned back slightly, palms braced against my chest, spine arching as he increased his pace. His breaths quickened, low groans spilling from his lips, growing louder and more desperate. My own breathing matched his, both of us climbing rapidly toward our peak.
"You feel so good," he whispered, voice shaking with raw need. "Better than anything."
My heart slammed at the confession, the vulnerability beneath the bravado fueling my desire further. "Then take whatever you need, little wolf. It's yours."
A groan escaped him, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief, devastating moment. His fingertips trailed down my chest, nails scratching just enough to ignite sparks beneath my skin.
Then Atlas slowed, bending forward, his eyes locking onto mine with blazing intensity. His voice was urgent, pleading.
"Mark me," he whispered. "Right now. Make me yours forever, Draven."
The words punched through me, breaking the last threads of my control.
I moved before I could think, surging upward, flipping him beneath me in one fluid motion. His back hit the mattress and he gasped in surprise, but his body shivered with excitement, his hips arching up against mine immediately.
The sight of him beneath me was intoxicating. Something primal surged through me, fierce and possessive. I leaned over him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, whispering against his ear.
"You have no idea how badly I want this," I growled.
He whimpered, pressing up against me, desperate for contact. "Then take it," he gasped, trembling beneath me. "Take me. Make me yours, Draven. Now."
I didn't hesitate. I drove into him in one fluid stroke, feeling his entire body tighten and arch in pleasure beneath mine.
His cry filled the room, echoing my own deep groan. My fingers dug into his hips, holding him steady as I moved harder, deeper, driven by an instinct far older than either of us.
"Draven—!" Atlas cried out, voice breaking with raw passion.
The sound of my name on his lips only drove me faster, every thrust claiming him more completely. I leaned forward, brushing the silver-white hair from his neck to expose the smooth, heated skin just below his ear. My lips grazed that sensitive spot, and he shuddered, gasping sharply.
"Mine," I growled against his skin. Sirius howled inside me, fierce and unstoppable, craving nothing more than to claim and protect him forever.
"Yes," he answered immediately, breathlessly, tilting his head to bare his throat in full surrender.
That submission sent fire blazing through my veins.
Without another thought, I sank my teeth into the junction of his neck and shoulder, marking him as mine, irrevocably sealing our bond. His body locked tight against mine, his cry a raw mixture of pain and pleasure.
Our bond erupted—a flood of emotion and sensation washing over us both, binding us completely, unbreakably.
When I pulled back to look at his face, his eyes glistened with tears, but the wild smile curving his lips was one of absolute triumph.
"Forever yours," he whispered, voice trembling.
"Forever," I echoed, kissing him tenderly, sealing the promise.
Yet Atlas's rut still blazed through him, insatiable and relentless. His desire surged back immediately, pulling me under again. His touch became rougher, more urgent, movements wild and uninhibited. We lost ourselves completely—tangled together in a fevered rhythm of teeth and tongues and desperate whispers.
He bit and scratched, leaving marks across my shoulders and chest that I knew I'd carry proudly. Each one was a claim: his fierce, possessive declarations written into my skin.
We came undone again and again through the night, the world shattering and reforming each time. But Atlas remained relentless, urging me on with a boldness I could never have imagined from him.
I held nothing back, giving him all of me. And he took everything I offered, returning it fiercely.
"One more time," he whispered, straddling me again with a daring, mischievous grin. "I want more of you."