HIS FATHER'S LUNA

"Look at you," Jasper rasped, his voice sounding like gravel grinding together. He touched his rough big old c**k, All this soft meat. For me!!!!! Take off your clothes. He commanded. He pushed Emma back onto the mattress. The springs groaned under her weight, a sound that went straight to his c**k, thickening it instantly against his trousers. He climbed on top of her, his knees shoving her heavy thighs apart. The scent of her soap hit him.. His c**k slid upward, the thick head catching on the edge of her panties before finding the damp heat of her p***y through the thin fabric. The clumsy, tender pressure sent a jolt through her. It was big, bigger than she’d imagined, Why are you so tight down there, is this your first time? Jasper questioned Emma?? Yes she answered softly. Don’t worry you will enjoy it, it is only painful the first time… He began to rock, a slow, grinding rhythm that was less about penetration and more about connection. "f**k me harder! Yes, just like that! Don't stop!" he screamed, not caring if she was hurt or not. Emma cried out, a sharp, broken sound as he stretched her open. She was tight and wet. Her body rippled with the impact, the flesh of her thighs and ass jiggling as he began to move. There was no rhythm, only a desperate pound of his breath. "f**k," he hissed, his head dropping to watch the sight. His c**k disappeared into her, her pink lips swallowing him whole. The sight of her pale flesh contrasting with his tanned, rough hands drove him wild. He slapped her hip, the sound sharp and stinging, leaving a red handprint on her white skin. "Take it, you fat slut. This is what you were made for." His moans grew louder, filling the room, mixing with the wet, slapping sound of their skin meeting. She was wet, soaking him, her juices running down his balls and onto the sheets. The smell of s*x, sweat and musk and raw lust filled the air, thick and intoxicating. "Ride me," he commanded suddenly, pulling out and rolling onto his back. His c**k stood straight up, glistening with her cream, throbbing in the air. "Get on top. Ride me till I’m no longer breathing." "c*m for me," he demanded. "Squeeze my c**k, you fat meat." He held her there, as the waves of pleasure washed over him, draining him, emptying the years of loneliness into her willing body. They were both panting, sweat-slicked and spent, the room spinning in the aftermath. Jasper looked up at her, his chest heaving, a dark satisfaction settling in his gut. He reached up and pulled her down to his chest, wrapping his arms around her big body. And whispered “you are mine now. BEFORE THE WEDDING NIGHT For twenty years, Alpha King Jasper Grayson had not touched another woman. On the night Queen Isabella died, he buried more than his wife. He buried his smile. His laughter. His heart. For twenty years, the kingdom of Valenmoor had waited for this day. Church bells echoed across the capital before sunrise. Golden banners bearing the black wolf crest fluttered from every tower. Fresh flowers lined the Royal Avenue, musicians filled the streets with triumphant melodies, and merchants gave away bread and wine as if it were a festival blessed by the Moon Goddess herself. People laughed. Children danced. Even the oldest citizens, who had long forgotten what hope felt like, wore smiles. The Ruthless King was getting married. The news had spread across every village, every noble estate, and every neighboring kingdom faster than wildfire. No one had believed it at first. Not after twenty years. Not after late Queen Isabella. "Did you hear?" an elderly merchant whispered as he arranged his fruit stand. "His Majesty finally agreed to take another wife." "I thought he'd die alone," another man replied. "So did everyone." "My brother serves in the palace. He swears the King hasn't looked at another woman since Queen Isabella passed." "They say he still visits her grave before every campaign." "And yet today..." "He will marry again." No one questioned whether the wedding should happen. They questioned only one thing. Who had finally captured the heart of the man who feared nothing... except loving again? Rumors swept through the city. "A princess from the Northern Kingdom." "No, an Alpha Queen from the East." "I heard she's descended from the Blood Moon bloodline." "My cousin says she's the daughter of the White Fang King."Every rumor sounded believable. After all… Only a woman of extraordinary birth could become Queen of Valenmoor. Surely. The Moon Temple stood at the highest point of the capital. Built from white stone that shimmered beneath the morning sun, it had witnessed every royal coronation, every royal birth, and every royal funeral for more than five centuries. Today, it welcomed kings, Alpha Lords, nobles, ambassadors, generals, and High Elders from across the continent. Inside, excitement buzzed through the hall. Rows of silver candles illuminated the marble floor. The scent of moon lilies drifted through the air. The throne of the late Queen Isabella remained draped in white silk, a silent reminder of the woman no one believed could ever be replaced. Lord Victor Ashford stood near the front beside the Royal Council, his expression composed. Nearby, Commander Marcus Hale inspected the royal guards one final time. Nothing could go wrong today. Not on the King's wedding day. The High Priest Lucien adjusted the ancient marriage scroll in his trembling hands. He had performed countless ceremonies. None had made him this uneasy. Twenty years of silence… And now this. The massive bronze doors remained closed. Behind them waited the King's bride. Every noble leaned forward. Every conversation stopped. The musicians lowered their instruments. The temple grew silent. Then…. The doors began to open. Slowly, everyone is tensed to see the bride. A smile spread across Lady Celeste Ashford's face. "So," she whispered confidently to the noblewoman beside her. "Let's finally meet the woman worthy of our King." The doors opened completely. One pair of footsteps echoed through the sacred hall. The first person to appear was not a princess. Not an Alpha Queen. Not a noblewoman. It was a young woman dressed in the late Queen Isabella's wedding gown. The silver silk flowed gracefully around her curvy figure, the ancient embroidery catching the candlelight with every hesitant step. A delicate diamond crown rested above her dark curls, but it could not hide the uncertainty in her eyes. For a heartbeat… No one moved. No one spoke. Then recognition spread through the crowd. A servant dropped the tray she was carrying. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the temple. "...Emma?" Another servant covered her mouth. "Isn’t that Emma Rowan..." "The palace fat maid?" "The one assigned to the Crown Prince?" "Impossible..." A noblewoman suddenly gasped. "She's wearing Queen Isabella's wedding gown!" The temple exploded into whispers. "Who allowed this?" "Has she gone mad?" "Someone stop her!" "She's only a servant!" "She has a weak wolf!" "Isn't she the girl the Crown Prince rejected?" "This is an insult to Queen Isabella's memory!" Emma's steps faltered. Every voice felt like another stone thrown against her heart. She wanted to disappear. She wanted to wake from whatever cruel dream this was. Instead… her feet rooted for her to keep walking. She forced herself to keep walking down the aisle. Because the man who had ordered her to wear the gown… Was not a man anyone disobeyed. The whispers grew louder. "No noble blood." "No powerful wolf." "She's too ordinary." "What could the King possibly see in her?" "What is she even doing here?" Emma reached the altar alone. Her hands trembled as she clasped them together. The hall was still buzzing with outrage. Then the great doors opened once more. A single figure entered. Instantly... The entire temple fell silent. No one had to announce him. No one dared. Alpha King Jasper Grayson had arrived. The sound of his boots striking the marble floor echoed through the Moon Temple. No one breathed. No one dared. Alpha King Jasper Grayson walked through the center aisle with the quiet confidence of a man who had never once questioned his own authority. At forty-nine, he was still the most feared warrior on the continent. He wore no ceremonial robes. No jeweled crown. No silk embroidered with gold. Only black battle armor polished to perfection, a heavy wolf-fur cloak draped across his broad shoulders, and the legendary sword Nightfang hanging from his waist. Fresh scars crossed the back of his hands. Another disappeared beneath the collar of his armor. The King had ridden home from the battlefield only yesterday. He had defeated another invading kingdom... And today… He was getting married. The contrast was enough to unsettle even the bravest men in the room. One by one… Kings… Alphas… Generals… Council members… Dropped to one knee. "My King." "My King." "My King." The voices echoed throughout the temple. Only Emma remained standing before the altar. Her heart pounded so loudly she was certain everyone could hear it. She had served this palace for two years. She had seen the King countless times from a distance. Never once had she imagined standing beside him as a bride. Jasper never acknowledged the crowd. Not even with a nod. He walked straight toward the altar. Straight toward Emma. The whispers began again. "Surely..." "Surely this is a mistake." "He can't possibly intend to marry her." "Perhaps she's only holding the late Queen's gown." "My daughter would make a far better Queen." "This servant doesn't even deserve to stand in the Queen's place." Lady Celeste Ashford's elegant smile slowly disappeared. She looked toward her father. Lord Victor Ashford. "What is happening?" Victor didn't answer. His sharp eyes remained fixed on Jasper. For the first time in years… The King's actions had surprised him. That was something Victor hated. Jasper finally stopped beside Emma. She kept her head lowered. Every instinct told her not to look at him. Then... A deep voice broke the silence. "Look at me." Emma slowly lifted her eyes. Those cold gray eyes met hers. There was no anger in them. Only certainty. "You look frightened." His voice was low enough that only she could hear. Emma swallowed. "I... I don't understand why I'm here, Your Majesty." For the briefest moment… Something almost resembling sadness crossed Jasper's face. "You don't have to." The High Priest cleared his throat nervously. "Your Majesty..." His voice trembled. "Before we begin..." Lucien looked toward Emma. Then back at Jasper. "I must ask one final time." "The laws of the Moon Goddess allow you to choose any noblewoman within the Alpha bloodlines." "You may still reconsider." Several nobles immediately nodded. "Yes!" "There is still time." "The kingdom deserves a Queen of noble birth." "Not..." The noblewoman glanced at Emma with open disgust. "...a servant." Another voice followed. "She carries a weak wolf." "How can she stand beside the strongest Alpha alive?" "She'll embarrass the kingdom and your bloodline." Emma felt every word like another knife twisting inside her chest. She fought to keep her composure. She had grown used to insults. But never like this. Not before the entire kingdom. Lucien lowered his head respectfully. "My King..." "I ask only because this decision will change the future of Valenmoor forever."