Don’s Mate at the Gas Station

Ariel POV Slamming the door to my room, I felt like I was losing my damn mind. No matter where I went, no matter what I tried to do, I kept seeing him. And if I saw him one more time, I was going to snap. He wanted me. My wolf wanted him. But I didn’t want him. Not after he had put that damn gun in my face. Ever since then, he had been showing up everywhere—my room, my bed, even my bathroom. This morning I nearly pissed on the floor because he was standing in there like he belonged, checking some injury on his arm like that was a perfectly normal thing to do in someone else’s bathroom. The wound had looked deep too. Like a blade had caught him in a fight and he had barely made it out of it. A defensive wound. A real one. Which only made everything worse. Who the hell was my mate? Because I didn’t even know anymore. Vincenzo was supposed to be this sweet, shy, clumsy nerd from school. The awkward exchange student from Italy whose rich family had made peace with Dad so their son could study in our territory. At least, that was the version everyone else seemed to believe. To me? He had always looked like the weakest damn nerd I had ever met in my life. Academically, he was fine. Nothing special. No smarter than half the kids at school. Just average. Painfully average. And so damn slow at times I used to wonder if his brain lagged behind on purpose. Getting him to speak English was like asking rain to stop in the middle of a hurricane. I didn’t like him. Not even a little. And he was always watching everything like he needed to stay alert every second, like if he relaxed for one blink, someone would come at him swinging. Honestly? Punching him in the face was starting to sound really f*****g tempting right about now. Especially with everything going on. Mom had just given birth to my twin baby brothers, and I was happy about that. Really happy. But I was also glad my triplet brothers weren’t going to be Alphas. Because if I couldn’t take over— Then nobody else was going to do it either. There was a war happening, and Dad had asked me to go to the hospital to make sure Mom was safe—even though he knew the building was under complete lockdown. It was basically a fortress. No one was getting in. No one was getting out. Still, he wanted me there to make sure everyone was alright, and I was actually going to do it. But the second I stepped closer to my closet to change and grab a bag, I stopped cold. Because Vincenzo was there. Standing in front of my closet. Going through my clothes like he had every right to touch a damn thing in my room. “Who the f**k let you into my room? Get out!” I shouted the words without hesitation. The second I did, he turned to look at me. The light hit his nerdy glasses just right, making them flash for a second, and then he snickered. Actually snickered. And when he answered in English, his accent wrapped around every word in a way that would have melted me if I hadn’t been so furious at him already. “I’m glad you finally decided to show. I hate your taste in clothes, but now I know exactly how I can remind you to respect me as your mate.” My eyes widened at his answer. Not from fear. From pure disbelief. The nerve of this man. My heart pounded in my chest as I stared at Vincenzo, his red hair tousled and those glasses perched on his nose making him look almost innocent—until he started peeling off his shirt. The locker room air felt thick, suffocating, the click of the doors locking echoing like a final sentence. I backed up against the cold metal lockers, my whit shirt still clinging to my skin from running back home, the shorts riding up my thighs. He was human, just some guy from school, but the way he said ‘mate' sent a chill down my spine. What the hell did that even mean? I was Ariel, the golden girl, future Luna of the pack whether I wanted it or not. My brothers had dibs, but Mom's twins changed everything. No escape for me. I'd fooled around before—sneaky blowjobs in the back of cars, my hand wrapped around a guy's d**k until he spurted—but I'd kept my virginity intact. Saved it for... something. Someone. Not this. Not him. Vincenzo shrugged off his shirt, revealing a body that didn't match the nerdy facade he hid behind at school. Muscles rippled across his chest and abs, etched with tattoos—snakes coiling around his biceps, some tribal ink snaking down his side. Piercings glinted in the dim light: a bar through his n****e, another catching the edge of his waistband as he kicked off his shoes and shoved his pants down. His boxers strained against the bulge of his c**k, already hard and straining. He stepped closer, eyes locked on mine, predatory. “Vincenzo, stop,” I whispered, my voice cracking. My wolf instincts screamed to f**k, to let him, but we were in my room—too risky, too public even with the doors locked. He grabbed my wrists, pinning them above my head with one massive hand, his body pressing into mine. Heat radiated off him, his free hand yanking up my shorts, fingers hooking into my p***y in one brutal tug. The fabric tore, leaving me exposed, my p***y bare and tingling from the sudden plunge of his fingers. “You're mine, Ariel. I've waited too long.” His breath was hot against my neck as he ground his hips forward, his c**k—now freed as he shoved his boxers aside—pressing thick and insistent against my thigh. It was huge, veined and throbbing, the head already leaking pre-c*m that smeared on my skin. I squirmed, trying to knee him, but he laughed low, using his weight to trap me. He released my wrists just long enough to spin me around, slamming my chest against the wall. The cold bit into my breasts, my n*****s hardening from the friction through my top. His hands were everywhere—yanking my top up, exposing my t**s, pinching the n*****s hard enough to make me gasp. Then his fingers dove between my legs again, rough and unyielding, shoving two inside my p***y without warning. I was dry at first, the intrusion burning, but he didn't care, pumping them in and out, forcing my body to respond. Wetness built against my will, slicking his hand as he growled. “Feel that? Your body's begging for it.” He withdrew his fingers, and I heard the rustle, felt the blunt head of his c**k nudge my entrance from behind. I clawed at the walls, pleading, “No, please—I'm a virgin, don't—“ But he thrust forward, burying half his length in one savage push. Pain tore through me, my hymen giving way with a sharp sting, blood mixing with my arousal as he stretched me wide. I cried out, tears blurring my vision, but he clamped a hand over my mouth, muffling the sound. His other arm banded around my waist, holding me still as he slammed deeper, bottoming out until his balls slapped against my ass. “f**k, so tight,” he grunted, pulling back only to ram in again, setting a brutal rhythm. Each thrust jolted my body, my t**s bouncing against the cold walls, his piercings—moons, did he have one through his c**k? It dragged inside me, adding friction that made my walls clench involuntarily. He f****d me like he owned me, hips snapping relentlessly, his tattooed arm flexing as he gripped my hip hard enough to bruise. I hated how my p***y started to grip him back, traitorous pleasure building amid the ache. His hand slipped from my mouth to my throat, squeezing just enough to make me dizzy, while his other mauled my breast, rolling the n****e between calloused fingers. “c*m for me, mate,” he demanded, angling his hips to hit that spot deep inside. I fought it, bit my lip until it bled, but my body betrayed me—waves of unwanted ecstasy crashing as my orgasm ripped through, p***y spasming around his invading c**k. He roared, thrusting erratically, then buried himself to the hilt and unloaded, hot spurts of c*m flooding my virgin depths, marking me from the inside. He stayed lodged inside, panting against my back, as I slumped, spent and broken. “This is just the beginning,” he murmured, kissing my shoulder. I didn't know what he meant by mate, but one thing was clear—Vincenzo had claimed me, and nothing would be the same.