Chapter 3: Surrender to the Night
1230 Words
The world narrowed to nothing but sensation.
Mateo’s mouth was hot and demanding on mine, his kiss a storm of hunger and frustration that stole every thought from my mind. My back pressed against the cool wall of his bedroom, but his body was fire—hard muscle and burning skin trapping me in the most intoxicating way. I should have pushed him away. I should have remembered the humiliation, the rejection, the cold words he’d spoken under the moon just hours ago.
But the mate bond sang between us, loud and impossible to ignore. It wrapped around my heart, my wolf, my very soul, whispering that this was right. That he was mine.
My hands, trembling at first, slid up his bare chest, fingers tracing the ridges of muscle I had only ever admired from a distance while cleaning the pack house hallways. His skin was fever-hot beneath my palms, and a low growl rumbled in his throat as I touched him. The sound vibrated through me, sending shivers racing down my spine.
He broke the kiss only long enough to trail his lips along my jaw, down the sensitive column of my throat. I gasped when his teeth grazed the spot where a mate mark would one day go—if he ever chose me. The thought brought a fresh wave of pain, but it was quickly drowned beneath the tide of need rising inside me.
“Camila,” he murmured against my skin, voice rough and strained. “Tell me to stop. Tell me to send you away.”
I couldn’t.
Instead, my fingers tangled in his thick black hair, pulling him closer. “I don’t want you to stop,” I whispered, the words barely audible.
He stilled for a heartbeat, golden eyes searching mine in the dim moonlight filtering through the window. Whatever he saw there—want, hurt, longing—made something inside him snap. With a guttural sound, he lifted me again, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried me the few steps to his massive bed.
He laid me down gently, almost reverently, as if I were something precious he was afraid to break. The contrast between his earlier coldness and this tenderness made my chest ache. I reached for him, pulling him down with me, needing to feel his weight, his warmth.
His large hands framed my face as he kissed me again—slower this time, deeper, like he was memorizing the taste of me. I melted beneath him, every touch igniting sparks across my skin. When his fingers slipped beneath the hem of my sleep shirt, tracing the bare skin of my stomach, I shivered violently.
He pulled back slightly, eyes glowing brighter. “You’re trembling.”
“I’ve never…” I started, then stopped, cheeks burning. I didn’t need to finish. He already knew.
His expression softened in a way I had never seen before. The ruthless future Alpha everyone feared looked almost vulnerable in that moment.
“I know,” he said quietly. “We can stop. We should stop.”
But even as he said it, his thumb brushed slow circles on my hip, and his body stayed pressed against mine. The bond pulsed between us, urging, pleading.
I shook my head. “I don’t want to stop. Not tonight.”
Something dark and possessive flashed in his eyes. He kissed me again, and this time there was no hesitation. His hands slid higher, pushing the thin shirt up and over my head, leaving me bare except for the simple cotton underwear I wore. Cool air kissed my skin, but his gaze was hotter than any flame as it traveled over me.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, voice thick with awe.
No one had ever called me beautiful before. Not like this.
Tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked them away. Tonight wasn’t about pain. Tonight was about feeling wanted, even if it was only the bond speaking.
He kissed his way down my neck, across my collarbone, lingering at every spot that made me gasp. My fingers dug into his shoulders as waves of sensation crashed over me—new, overwhelming, perfect. When his mouth closed over one sensitive peak, I arched off the bed with a soft cry, my wolf howling in delight inside me.
Time lost meaning. There was only Mateo—his touch, his scent, the low growls of approval when I responded to him. He was careful, almost worshipful, despite the wildness I could feel barely leashed beneath the surface. Every caress felt like an apology, every kiss like a promise he couldn’t voice.
When his hand finally slipped beneath the last barrier between us, I tensed instinctively. He paused immediately, lifting his head to meet my eyes.
“We stop if you want,” he said again, voice strained with effort.
I shook my head, pulling him closer. “I want you.”
The words seemed to unleash him. He kissed me deeply as his fingers explored, gentle and patient, drawing soft sounds from my lips I didn’t know I could make. Pleasure built slowly, sweetly, until I was clinging to him, whispering his name like a prayer.
Only when I was trembling with need did he settle fully between my thighs. I felt him there—hot, hard, ready—and a flutter of nerves returned.
He must have sensed it, because he cupped my cheek, golden eyes locked on mine.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured. “I’ll always have you tonight.”
The tenderness in his voice undid me. I nodded, wrapping my arms around his neck.
He entered me slowly, carefully, watching my face for any sign of pain. There was discomfort at first—a stretching, burning sensation—but he moved with such restraint, whispering soft words against my ear, kissing away the tears that slipped free, that it quickly faded beneath a rush of fullness and connection.
When he was fully inside, he stilled, letting me adjust. Our foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling.
“Are you okay?” he asked, voice rough.
I nodded, shifting experimentally. The movement drew a groan from him, and pleasure sparked through me again.
“More than okay,” I whispered.
That was all he needed.
He began to move—slow, deep thrusts that built a rhythm as old as time. I met him instinctively, hips rising to greet each stroke. The bond flared brighter with every joining, weaving our souls closer even as he had rejected me hours before.
Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter until I was gasping, clinging to him as waves crested and broke over me in a blinding rush. I cried out his name, and moments later he followed, burying his face in my neck with a guttural groan, my name on his lips like a vow.
We stayed tangled together afterward, hearts pounding in unison. He held me close, one large hand stroking my hair, the other resting possessively on my hip. For a little while, the world outside didn’t exist. There was no rejection, no pack, no Isabella. Just us.
I drifted toward sleep, lulled by the steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek.
But even in that haze of contentment, a small voice whispered in the back of my mind:
What happens when morning comes?
- Writer
