Nora
I used to think love would save me.
Three years of my life went into Asher like I was building something that would last. I covered for him when he f****d up with the elders. I stayed up with him after brutal training sessions, rubbing the knots out of his shoulders while he talked about how one day he’d lead the pack and I’d stand right there beside him as Luna. I let him knot me during my heats even when it left me sore for days, because he said it proved I was his. I swallowed every promise he fed me — that I mattered, that the pack would see my strength, that I wasn’t just some girl he was passing time with.
All bullshit. Fuckng bull s**t!
The night he rejected me in front of the pack still sits in my chest like a bruise that won’t fade. His voice was so flat. Like he was reading off a list. ‘You’re too emotional. Too weak. The pack needs someone who can actually stand next to me.’ I stood there in that stupid black dress I’d worn for him and felt something inside me crack for good.
So yeah. That’s how I ended up at the bar in the middle of the week, four whiskeys deep, trying to drink the memory of his f*****g face out of my head.
The club was loud enough to drown out most of my thoughts. Bass rattling my ribs. Bodies moving like they didn’t have a single worry in the world. I kept my eyes on the glass in front of me and told myself if I just kept swallowing, eventually I’d stop feeling like such a f*****g i***t.
I didn’t notice the guy next to me at first. Not until that voice came out of him.
“Whiskey. Neat.”
It was low, rough. The kind of voice that didn’t need to raise itself to be heard. It rolled through the noise around us like it owned the space. I felt it in my spine before I even turned my head.
He was sitting two stools over, hood pulled low over his face, his shoulders taking up more room than they had any right to. Big hands. One resting on the bar like he was deciding whether to break it. Even with the cloak and the shadows, something about the way he held himself made the air feel heavier.
I knew that posture. Everyone in Blackthorn knew it.
Alpha Kael. My ex’s father.
The one who’d been gone for months on some peace-keeping bullshit up north, training his senses or whatever the f**k Alphas do when they disappear. Nobody had seen him since he left. And here he was, hiding under a hoodie in a human club like he was just another wolf trying to get drunk in peace.
He didn’t know who I was. Why would he? I was just Asher’s girlfriend. Background noise. A girl his son had thrown away.
But I knew him. And the second that realization hit, something ugly and hot twisted in my stomach.
Revenge.
The thought came so fast and so clear it almost scared me. Asher had humiliated me in front of everyone. Made me feel small. Worthless. What better way to pay him back than to let his own father use me?
I turned on my stool before I could talk myself out of it. My dress rode up my thighs and I didn’t fix it.
“Rough night?” I asked, my voice a little hoarse from the whiskey.
His head tilted just enough for me to catch the edge of his jaw under the hood. Strong. Sharp. Older than Asher’s by a couple decades but still carved like stone.
“You could say that,” he answered. That voice again. It settled low in my belly. “You?”
I laughed, short and bitter. “My ex decided I wasn’t good enough for his pack. Said I was weak. Emotional. A liability.” I took another sip, let the burn sit on my tongue. “So yeah. Rough f*****g month.”
He was quiet for a second. Then: “Sounds like he’s the liability.”
Something in me snapped into focus.
I slid off my stool and stepped between his spread knees. Close enough to smell him properly — pine and smoke and something darker underneath, something that made my pulse kick hard. He smelled like power. Like the kind of man who didn’t ask permission for anything.
“Buy me another drink,” I said, looking straight at the shadows under his hood, “and I’ll show you exactly how strong I can be.”
His gloved hand caught my wrist. Not rough. Just… there. Heavy. “Careful, little wolf. You don’t know what game you’re playing.”
“I know exactly what I’m playing,” I told him. My heart was hammering but my voice stayed steady. “And I want it. And you, Mr. Stranger, are going to give it to me! And I am not asking.”
Ten minutes later we were locked in the bathroom.
The second the door shut I was on him, shoving that heavy cloak open, my hands already working his belt like I’d lose my nerve if I slowed down. His C0ck was already hard when I pulled it out — thick, heavy, way bigger than Asher’s, flushed dark at the head. I dropped to my knees on the dirty tile without thinking twice.
“f**k,” he growled when I licked up the underside. One of his hands fisted in my hair. “You’re not wasting any time.”
I didn’t answer with words. Just opened my mouth and took him as deep as I could on the first try, gagging on purpose, letting spit run down my chin and drip onto the floor. I wanted it messy. I wanted it nasty. I wanted to be the kind of girl who’d suck her ex’s dad in a club bathroom and not even blink.
He tasted clean and a little bitter. I moaned around him anyway and hollowed my cheeks, bobbing my head fast and sloppy. His hips jerked once before he got control of himself.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “Where the f**k did you come from?”
I pulled off long enough to look up at him, my lips shiny, mascara already starting to run. I grabbed his C0ck, fisting it rapidly with both hands, “Does it matter?”
Then I went back down.
I was being obscene on purpose. Loud. Wet. Letting him hit the back of my throat until my eyes watered. One hand stroked what I couldn’t fit while the other slipped into my purse and pulled out my phone. I set it on the edge of the sink without breaking rhythm, angling it toward us. The little red light blinked on.
He didn’t notice. His head was tipped back against the door, breathing hard, his hips starting to move in short thrusts.
I stood up before he could finish, turned around, and bent over the sink. My dress shoved up over my ass. No panties. I’d come here ready for something stupid and now I was doing it.
Kael was behind me in a second. One big hand grabbed my hip. The other wrapped around my throat and pulled me upright so I had to look at myself in the cracked mirror. My lipstick was already smeared. Eyes glassy. Hair a mess.
“You want this,” he said against my ear. It wasn’t a question.
“I want you to f**k me like you hate your son,” I answered.
He made a sound — half laugh, half growl — and shoved into me in one hard thrust. Clearly, he hadn’t heard what I said. Whew!
I gasped, my fingers gripping the edge of the sink. He was so much thicker than Asher. The stretch burned in the best way. He didn’t wait for me to adjust. Just started f*****g me like the bathroom might fall apart around us.
The sounds were disgusting. Skin slapping. My cunt making wet noises every time he bottomed out. My own moans echoing off the tiles. I reached back with one hand and spread myself wider for him, watching in the mirror as his C0ck disappeared into me over and over.
“f**k, look at you,” he rasped. “Taking it like you were made for it. Is this what you needed? To get railed in a dirty bathroom by someone who actually knows what the f**k he’s doing?”
“Yes,” I breathed. “Harder. I want to feel it tomorrow.”
He gave it to me. One hand left my throat to slap my ass, hard enough to sting. The other stayed tight in my hair, forcing me to watch every thrust in the mirror. I could see the way my t**s bounced, the way my mouth stayed open, the way his jaw clenched every time I squeezed around him.
I angled my body just enough to keep the phone in frame without him noticing. He reached around and rubbed my c**t in rough circles. “c*m on my C0ck, little wolf. Let me feel how much you needed this.”
It hit me fast and mean. My legs shook. I came with a broken sound, my p***y pulsing around him, slick dripping down my thighs. He kept f*****g me through it, growling praise and filth in that deep voice until I was shaking.
Then he buried himself deep and came with a low, guttural noise that I felt in my bones. Hot pulses flooded me, thick and endless. I watched in the mirror as some of it leaked out around his C0ck, running down my leg.
For a few seconds neither of us moved. Just breathing. His forehead pressed between my shoulder blades. My phone still recording quietly on the sink.
I waited until his breathing evened out. Then I grabbed my phone, slipped it back into my purse, and pulled my dress down with shaking hands. I was out the door before he even zipped his pants.
The hallway was empty. The music from the club swallowed everything. I walked fast, head down, c*m still leaking down my inner thigh, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might break through my ribs.
Behind me I heard the bathroom door open again.
I didn’t look back. I was already gone. And I had the s*x tape of the Alpha recorded on my phone!!