Chapter 5: The Provocation
947 Words
SOFIA
The gym door clicked shut behind me. The air was thick with the smell of rubber mats, metal, and him—sweat, pine, alpha musk so potent it made my head spin.
Damien stood in the center of the room, shirtless, sweat rolling down the deep cuts of his abs, black training shorts slung low on his hips.
He had just finished a set; the barbell still clanged softly as it settled on the rack.
He didn’t turn right away.
But his shoulders locked the instant my scent hit him.
“Get out,” he said. Low. Final.
I stepped forward instead. Let the door fall closed with a soft thud. Locked it.
“No.”
He turned then. Slowly. Eyes already bleeding gold at the edges.
His c**k was already stirring under the thin fabric of his shorts—thick outline growing heavier with every heartbeat as he looked at me.
I was still in the cropped tank and tiny shorts from training. Sweat had made the white fabric semi-sheer across my chest; my n*****s stood out dark and tight. My ponytail was messy, strands sticking to my damp neck. I knew exactly what I looked like.
Desperate.
Ready.
His.
“You’ve been ignoring me since the office last night,” I said quietly. “Pretending I’m not here. Pretending you didn’t almost come in your hand thinking about me.”
His jaw flexed. “You need to leave. Now.”
I walked closer. Close enough that the heat rolling off his body hit me like a wave. Close enough that I could see the pulse hammering in his throat.
“I need you to stop lying to both of us.” My voice came out softer than I meant. Almost pleading. “You’re hard right now. I can see it. Smell it. Why won’t you just admit you want me?”
“Because wanting you is going to destroy everything.” His words were rough, like they were torn out of him. “Your mom. The pack. You.”
I reached out. Let my fingertips graze his chest—hot skin, slick with sweat. Traced one slow line down the center of his abs until I stopped just above the waistband.
His breath hissed out.
“Then let it destroy us,” I whispered. “Just once. Just touch me. Kiss me. f**k me. Anything. Please, Damien.”
His hand shot out. Caught my wrist. Held it tight against his stomach so I could feel the way his muscles jumped under my palm.
“Don’t beg,” he growled. “It makes it harder to say no.”
“Then don’t say no.”
I pressed closer. Let my body mold to his. My breasts flattened against his chest; my hips brushed the thick, heavy length of him. He was fully hard now—long, thick, straining the fabric so hard I could feel the heat of him through my shorts.
A low, tortured sound rumbled in his throat.
I tilted my head up. Lips inches from his.
“Tell me you don’t want to rip these shorts off me,” I breathed. “Tell me you don’t want to spread me out on these mats and lick me until I’m screaming. Tell me you don’t want to bury that huge c**k inside me and knot me so deep I can’t think straight.”
His free hand came up. Gripped the back of my neck. Not gentle. Possessive. His thumb brushed the pulse point under my jaw.
“I want all of it,” he rasped. Voice wrecked. “I want to f**k you until you’re crying my name. I want to mark you so hard no other wolf will ever come near you. I want to lock my knot inside that tight little virgin cunt and fill you until you’re dripping me for days.”
My knees almost buckled. Slick flooded me so fast I felt it soak through my shorts.
“Then do it,” I begged. “Right here. Right now.”
His mouth hovered over mine. So close I could taste him on the air.
One heartbeat.
Two.
His lips brushed the corner of mine, not a kiss. A tease. A promise.
Then…
Footsteps in the hallway.
Heavy. Fast.
Carlos’s voice, sharp and urgent.
“Alpha! Eastern border, Reyes just hit the outer line. Three scouts down, but they’re pushing hard. We need you on the field now.”
Damien froze.
His hand still on my neck. My body still pressed to his. His c**k still throbbing against my stomach.
Carlos knocked. Once. Hard.
“Damien?”
The handle rattled.
Damien’s eyes snapped to the door. Then back to me, wild, furious, torn.
He released my neck like it burned.
Stepped back so fast I almost fell.
Adjusted himself roughly, shoved his erection down, yanked his shorts higher.
“Stay here,” he ordered. Voice like steel. “Lock the door behind me. Do not come out until I come get you.”
I stared at him. Chest heaving. Thighs trembling.
He turned. Unlocked the door. Opened it just enough to slip through.
Carlos started talking immediately—positions, numbers, threats.
The door closed.
The lock clicked from the outside.
I stood there alone in the empty gym.
Body on fire.
Pussy aching.
Lips still tingling from the ghost of his almost-kiss.
And outside, the pack was under attack.
Gunshots cracked in the far distance.
Howls rose…angry, pained.
The crisis had arrived.
And Damien had just walked straight into it…
Leaving me locked in his private space, burning for him, while the entire estate teetered on the edge of war.
- Writer
