One Night Stand With My Enemy

CHAPTER FOUR

He didn’t answer my question.

Instead, his voice came low, smooth as smoke. “Can’t you smell my rank?”

I frowned. “What?”

“Your wolf,” he said. “She should tell you what I am.”

I gave a short laugh, the kind that sounded more like defeat. “She doesn’t talk to me anymore.”

He tilted his head slightly, those gray eyes watching me like I was a puzzle. “Doesn’t talk to you?”

“Not since my father was arrested,” I said quietly, my fingers tracing the rim of my glass. “I’ve lost everything that made me who I was. My wolf, my strength… even my scent feels weaker. I’m practically human now.”

He leaned back in his seat. “Alpha’s daughter, right?”

I nodded, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Used to be. Now I’m just the girl living in the Omega quarters. My father’s gone, my title’s gone, and the son of a b***h who made it happen is still out there, pretending to be a saint.”

His gaze sharpened. “Name?”

“Alpha Devon,” I said with a bitter edge, throwing back another shot. “Ever heard of him?”

A small pause. Then his tone dropped, quiet but deadly. “Should I kill him?”

That made me laugh for real this time. It was an unsteady, tipsy laugh that cracked through the air. “You can’t kill him. No one can. He’s powerful, protected. Untouchable.”

“Every untouchable person,” he said coolly, “has someone who can challenge them.”

I raised a brow, smirking despite myself. “Can you?”

His lips curved, the faintest, most dangerous smile I’d ever seen. “If you let me.”

That answer made my pulse stutter. I stared at him, searching for something — truth, humor, madness. But all I found was steady confidence, the kind that came from someone who’d seen darkness and made peace with it.

“Who are you?” I asked finally.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, his voice low and deliberate. “I’m someone who just met a girl he’d really like to kiss.”

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

The world went still, the laughter, the clinking glasses, the music in the background, all of it faded. It was just him and me.

We held each other’s gaze, something magnetic pulling at the air between us. I could feel it all, the gravity, the heat, the danger.

Then he leaned closer, his breath brushing my ear. “I’m staying in one of the cabins at the Pack house. Come with me.”

I blinked, thrown off balance. “You don’t even know me.”

“Maybe not,” he said softly, “but I’d like to.”

My heart thudded, uneven and wild. “And why should I?”

His smile deepened. “Because you want to forget. And I can help you do that.”

He wasn’t wrong.

I hesitated, staring at the amber liquid in my glass before setting it down. “Fine,” I said. “But only because I miss the life I used to have — the expensive drinks, the nice cars, the illusion of control.”

“Of course,” he said, standing and offering his hand. “Whatever reason you need.”

I looked at his hand for a moment before slipping mine into it. His grip was firm, warm, steady.

He led me through the bar, his height and presence interrupting through the crowd like a blade. Outside, the cold night air hit my face, the scent of pine and rain wrapping around us.

A sleek black SUV sat parked right by the curb. He opened the passenger door for me, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Get in.”

I did.

He rounded the hood and slid into the driver’s seat, his movements smooth, controlled. The engine came alive with a deep growl.

For the next few minutes, silence stretched between us, the good kind of silence. The kind of silence that is charged with questions neither of us wanted to ask yet.

I watched him as he drove, his hand loose on the wheel, his eyes fixed on the road. The white shirt beneath his dark coat was open at the collar, revealing a hint of skin. Everything about him screamed control, effortless, dangerous, quiet control.

“Still not telling me your name?” I asked finally.

He glanced at me briefly. “Names ruin things too soon.”

I laughed softly. “You sound like trouble.”

“Maybe,” he said, “but so do you.”

The SUV turned off the main road, gravel crunching under the tires as we pulled up in front of one of the guest cabins — a two-story timber lodge with dim lights glowing from within.

“Visitors stay here,” I murmured.

He cut the engine, stepping out. “Good thing I’m a visitor then.”

When I got out, he was already holding the door open. I hesitated on the threshold, glancing up at him. “You really don’t waste time, do you?”

His eyes locked with mine, voice rougher this time. “Not when I know what I want.”

He shut the door behind us and before I could speak, his hands found my waist, pulling me in.

The kiss came like a storm. It was sudden, consuming, impossible to resist. My back hit the wall, his body pressed against mine, and my mind went blank.

His mouth was demanding, his touch firm but careful, as if testing boundaries I didn’t even know I had. I didn’t pull away. I didn’t want to.

My fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly. He groaned against my lips, and the sound sent heat rushing through me. He kissed desperately, as if I was his last meal. He bit on my lips and sucked, kissing with a desperation I just discovered. His hand on my jaw pried my mouth open and he slipped his tongue, sweeping every area inside my mouth.

I moaned into his mouth when I felt his hardness pressing into me.

He broke the kiss only long enough to whisper against my skin, “You taste like fire.”

“Maybe you should be careful then,” I whispered back, breathless from the kiss.

He chuckled lowly, brushing his lips along my jaw before lifting me effortlessly, his hands gripping my thighs. I gasped, instinctively wrapping my legs around him.

Every step he took echoed through the quiet cabin, up the stairs, down the hall, until we reached a door.

He pushed the door open and walked us in.

He set me down gently on the edge of the bed, his gaze tracing my face like he was memorizing every inch.

He hovered over me and laid on me. I take off his overcoat, throwing it at the corner of the room.

He grinds into me, causing moans to escape my lips. His hand moves to take off my dress — the one Brielle had given me — leaving me in only my bra and panties.

He unhooks my bra in one move, exposing my breast. He takes one in his grip, moulding and kneading while he claims my lips again.

His hardness pressed into me again and this time, he didnt stop. He kept grinding into me through my panties, loud moans escaping me.

Hands on my jaw to continue kissing me breathlessly, the other hand undoing his belt.

He broke the kiss to ask, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

I frowned, watching him take off his pants. “You think if I did, I'd be doing this with you?”

He settled on top of me again, in only his briefe. “I dont know, If I had a partner, I wouldn't still mind doing this with you, darling.” He held eye contact as he settled himself on me again, grinding and thrusting.

I swallowed, taking in the pleasure of his hardness pressing down on my soaked panties.

“You ask a lot of questions for someone who won’t even tell me his name.”

He caught my wrist gently. “Names can wait.” His tone softened. “Do you trust me?”

“No,” I said honestly.

That made him smile. “Smart girl.”

He pinned my wrist over my head and slid in slowly, maintaining eye contact with me. I frowned at the pain of his length stretching me but his voice cut through, “Hey, baby. You look at me when I f**k you, alright?”

I nodded and keep eye contact with him as he proceeded sliding in and out, stretching me, more and more. Pain turned into pleasures. Gasps turned into moans. My moans feel the air.

His were coming in gasps and “f**k,”

He increased his pace, pinning both my wrist with one hand and using the second hand to cup my jaw for a kiss. He bit on my lower lips, as he thrusted deeper.

“Tell me to slow down,” he murmured.

I swallowed hard. “I can’t. No… f**k me harder.”

He did. He wrapped my legs around his waist and pounded into me, the bed creaking loudly in the room, my moans echoing over the bed creaks.

His name was at the tip of my mouth as I urged him to go harder but I didn't know what his name was.

When we reached our c****x, we did it with his length still buried inside me.

And it struck me. We had just f****d. Raw. No condom, no pull out.

When it was over, the room was silent except for our uneven breaths. The moonlight slipped through the curtains, painting his face in silver and shadow.

He looked at me then — truly looked — and for the first time, I saw something raw flicker behind his cold eyes.

“So,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “Will you tell me now? What pack are you from?”

He brushed a strand of hair from my face, his thumb grazing my cheek. “Yes,” he said quietly, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Silverclaw Pack, darling.”

My breath hitched.

Silverclaw. No way….