FATED TABOOS: A Spicy Werewolf Erotica Collection

MY ALPHA FATHER'S BEST FRIEND 5

DAMON

I stay out until after midnight, running patrols I don’t need to run, checking security protocols that are already perfect, doing anything I can to avoid going back to that house.

Because if I go back while Maya’s still awake, I’m going to do something we’ll both regret.

The way she looked at me. The way she pressed against me. The way she f*****g smelled—arousal and pheromones so potent my wolf was screaming at me to pin her down and claim her.

I’d almost done it. Had been half a second away from kissing her when Derek’s text came through.

Saved by the f*****g bell.

I drive around the perimeter one more time, checking in with each patrol team, before finally accepting that I can’t stay out here all night.

When I pull up to the house, all the lights are off except for a dim glow from upstairs. Maya’s room.

My wolf perks up immediately. She’s awake.

No. Absolutely not.

I let myself in quietly and head straight upstairs, keeping my eyes firmly away from her door.

In the Alpha suite, I strip down to my boxers and climb into bed. Rob’s bed, I remind myself. My best friend’s bed, in his house, where I’m supposed to be protecting his daughter.

Not fantasizing about f*****g her.

But I do anyway. Can’t help it. The image of her in those tiny shorts, that t-shirt slipping off her shoulder, the way she looked at me like she wanted to devour me—it’s seared into my brain.

I palm my c**k through my boxers, already hard just from thinking about her.

This is pathetic. I’m a forty-two-year-old Alpha, jerking off like a teenager because I can’t have the girl I want.

Except she’s not a girl. She’s a woman. A strong, beautiful, fully mature alpha female who knows exactly what she wants.

And she wants me.

The thought makes my c**k pulse.

No. Not going there. Not tonight.

I roll over and force myself to think about pack business. Territory disputes. Budget meetings. Anything boring and un-sexy.

Eventually, exhausted, I fall into an uneasy sleep.

I wake up just after dawn, hard as stone and covered in sweat from dreams I don’t want to remember.

Dreams of Maya. Under me. Around me. Crying my name while I…

Enough.

I need a shower. A cold one.

I grab my clothes and toiletries and head across the hall to Maya’s bathroom.

The moment I open the door, her scent hits me like a physical blow.

Vanilla. Jasmine. And underneath it, something else. Something that makes my wolf lunge against my control.

Arousal. Recent arousal.

My eyes scan the bathroom and land on something crumpled on the counter.

My shirt. The black t-shirt from my duffel.

What the…

I pick it up and immediately wish I hadn’t.

It’s damp. And it reeks of her—not just her general scent but the specific, unmistakable smell of her p***y.

She used my shirt to get herself off.

“Oh, f**k,” I groan, my c**k going instantly hard.

I should be furious. Should be marching across the hall to lecture her about boundaries and respect and appropriate behavior.

Instead, I’m bringing the shirt to my face and breathing in deep, my c**k throbbing so hard it hurts.

I can smell exactly how aroused she was. Can practically taste her.

My hand goes to my c**k automatically, stroking through my boxers.

This is wrong. This is so f*****g wrong.

But I can’t stop myself.

I strip off my boxers and step into the shower, turning the water on hot. I bring the shirt with me, unable to let go of it.

My hand wraps around my c**k and I start stroking, fast and hard, no finesse. I press the shirt to my face, breathing in Maya’s scent, and imagine her in here last night.

Imagine her on her bed, legs spread, fingers buried in her tight little p***y. Imagine her moaning my name while she f****d herself, imagine her coming with my shirt pressed to her face.

“f**k, Maya,” I growl, my hand moving faster.

I imagine her here with me now. Imagine her on her knees, that smart mouth wrapped around my c**k. Imagine f*****g her throat while she looks up at me with those big brown eyes.

I imagine bending her over the sink, driving into her from behind, watching myself disappear into her tight cunt.

I imagine her in my bed—not Rob’s bed, my bed back at my pack house. Imagine waking up to her every morning, her scent all over my sheets, my marks all over her skin.

I imagine her pregnant with my pup, her belly round and full, her body ripe with my claim.

That last image sends me over the edge.

I come harder than I have in years, my release hitting the tile wall in thick ropes while I groan her name into the shirt. My legs actually shake, and I have to brace myself against the wall to keep from falling.

When I can finally think again, when the aftershocks stop and my breathing returns to normal, I lean my forehead against the cool tile and try to process what just happened.

I just jerked off using Maya’s scent. In her bathroom. While holding a shirt she deliberately left for me to find.

And the worst part? I want to do it again.

I’m so f****d.