Darken Moon University

Mate heat: Kaiden

I couldn't look away. I knew I should give her somewhat of privacy, turn my head to let her find her rhythm without the weight of my stare, but I was physically incapable of it.

The sight of her—legs splayed wide, her slender fingers working frantically against her swollen, slick flesh—was the most beautiful and terrifying thing I had ever witnessed. My heart hammered against my ribs like a war drum, the blood roaring in my ears so loud it drowned out everything except the wet, rhythmic sounds of her touch.

She was so wet. So open.

And the rest of her was just as devastating. Her chest was heaving, the rapid rise and fall drawing my eye to the full curves of her breasts. They were large for her petite frame, heavy and flushed with the fever, swaying slightly with the frantic movement of her hand. Her dark n*****s were peaked, hard and begging for attention, and I had to clench my jaw until it ached to stop myself from leaning down to take one into my mouth.

My c**k throbbed in my grip, the head leaking steadily as I watched her. The scent of her arousal was drowning me, thick and sweet, making my wolf snarl and snap behind my eyes. He wanted to mount her, to claim her, to bury myself inside her until neither of us knew where one ended and the other began.

But I held still. I forced myself to be a spectator, a witness to her pleasure, even though every instinct I had was screaming at me to take over.

I watched the way her fingers moved, slick and trembling, circling her c**t with a desperation that made my chest ache. She was chasing relief, chasing the edge, but I could see the frustration building in her features. She was too close to the precipice, overwhelmed by the fever and the sensitivity of her own body. She didn't know how to navigate this storm alone.

"Look at me," I rasped, my voice barely recognizable.

Her eyes snapped to mine, glassy and unfocused. "I can't... I can't reach it."

I squeezed the base of my shaft, the pressure a desperate attempt to hold back my own release as I watched her struggle. She was right there, teetering on the edge, but the fever was a cruel master. It built the need up to a breaking point but refused to let the body find the release it craved without an Alpha's knot, or at least, his command.

"Stop," I ordered, the word sharp but laced with compassion.

Her hand froze instantly, her chest heaving with a sob of frustration. "Kaiden, please. I need to come. It hurts."

"Stop fighting it and listen to me," I said, my voice dropping into that deep, resonant register that belonged to the Alpha, the part of me that could soothe her wolf just as easily as it could command a pack. "You can't find the edge because you're trying to outrun the pain. You need to let me guide you."

Her breath hitched, her fingers twitching against her soaked flesh, but she didn't move them away. She was trembling so hard the bed shook, her eyes wide and wet as she stared up at me, begging for an anchor.

"Keep your hand right where it is," I instructed, keeping my gaze locked on hers, forcing her to stay present. "But don't move. Just hold it. Feel the heat under your palm."

I watched her chest heave, the heavy swell of her breasts rising and falling with every ragged breath she took. The flush on her skin had deepened to a dark, tempting pink, highlighting the desperate arch of her back. She looked like a statue of some ancient fertility goddess, wrought in agony and ecstasy, and the sight alone was enough to make my hand tighten involuntarily around my c**k.

I had to be careful. One wrong move, one slip of my control, and I would shatter the fragile trust we were building. But god, she was making it difficult.

"Good girl," I praised, my voice rough. "Now, listen to the sound of my voice. Nothing else matters but my voice."

"Slow down," I commanded, my eyes tracing the frantic flutter of her pulse in her throat. "You're rushing. The heat makes you greedy, but you need to savor it."

Her brow furrowed, a whimper catching in her throat, but she obeyed. Her hips stilled their frantic bucking, though the muscles in her thighs continued to tremble with the effort of holding herself open for me.

"Touch your c**t," I ordered, my voice dropping an octave, thick with authority. "But lightly. Just your fingertips. Circle it. Slowly."

Her fingers stuttered, the movement clumsy and desperate, but she forced them to obey. She wasn't pumping or grinding anymore; she was barely grazing the swollen bundle of nerves, tracing light, agonizing circles that made her whole body quake.

"That's it," I groaned, my hand moving instinctively on my own length, matching the slow, torturous rhythm I was demanding of her. "Feel it? It’s not a race. It’s a wave."

I watched her face contort, the pleasure warring with the persistent, burning ache of the fever. She was biting her lip so hard I thought she might draw blood, her eyes struggling to stay open and locked on mine.