Fated To Ruin My Mate

Ryder’s Claim

It was like something inside Ryder had snapped. Like some ancient, primal force had crawled out of the shadows in his chest and taken over.

His eyes blazed as they locked on Aylin—wide-eyed, flushed, still breathless from what came before. With a guttural growl, he closed the distance between them, each step pounding with hunger. He grabbed her by the waist, dragging her against his hard chest so tightly her breath hitched.

“You chose them first,” he whispered against her lips, voice low and dangerous. “Kael. Lucien. Anyone but me. And now… this is what you get. I’m going to punish you, Aylin. And you’re going to beg for it.”

Before she could speak, his mouth crashed onto hers.

His kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was extreme—hot, wet, brutal. His tongue forced its way past her lips, claiming her mouth like he owned it. He kissed her like he was trying to brand her soul with his taste, his power, his fury. And gods… she kissed him back. Tongues clashed. Teeth scraped. A battle of dominance.

His hands roamed—possessive, greedy. One slipped behind her neck, tangling into her hair and pulling back just enough to expose her throat. The other gripped her hip with bruising force. Her gown was already in tatters, but that didn’t slow him. He growled and tore what little remained. The sound of ripping fabric echoed like a drumbeat in the room.

Then, with a low snarl, he sliced through her lace bralette with his claws.

Aylin gasped as cool air hit her bare chest, and then—

He stared. Eyes dark. Chest heaving.

“Perfect,” he whispered.

His hands cupped her breasts—full, round, soft beneath his palms. He groaned at the feel of them, thumbs grazing over her peaked n*****s. Then he pinched them—hard enough to make her hiss, twist them until she squirmed against him, only to soothe the sting with his tongue, dragging it across one taut peak with maddening slowness.

“Mmm—ahhh,” she moaned, fingers curling into his hair as he suckled greedily, hungrily, like a starved beast.

But that wasn’t enough.

His hand slid down her stomach, fingers pressing into her skin like he wanted to memorize every inch of her. He reached her panties—already soaked through.

“You’re dripping for me,” he growled. “And they haven’t even touched you in hours.”he muttered

"why did you stop sucking me, shut and suck me" and she pushed his face back into her breasts . Her body was on fire.

Ryder shoved the panties aside and plunged two fingers inside her. Slowly. Cruelly slow. He curled them, dragging them along her inner walls as her head fell back and her knees threatened to give out.

“R-Ryder— please no matter what I do don’t stop,” she begged.

So, of course, he stopped.

“Beg me,” Ryder said, eyes dark. “Show me how much you want me to f**k you. Show me you don’t want me to stop. Beg me, little siren.”

He went back to licking, but the moment she refused to beg, he stopped again, pulled his fingers out and brought them to his mouth, sucking her juices off with a low, satisfied moan. “You taste like sweet.” He teased her

Before she could react, his hands gripped her thighs and spread her open. His tongue flicked out—hot, wet, relentless—and found her c**t like it had a vendetta. He licked her in slow circles, then reversed direction, then sucked hard. Every flick, every suck, every slide of his tongue made her cry out louder.

“Aahhh—oh god, please—don’t stop!”

He pulled back, lips glistening. “Beg.”

She glared down at him, panting. But he didn’t move.

Her pride tried to resist. But her body—her trembling, aching, desperate body—betrayed her.

“Please, Ryder,” she gasped. “Get up and f**k the s**t out of me. I need it. I need you.”

That did it.

He stood in one swift motion, yanked the tie at his waist, and let his trousers drop. His c**k sprang free—thick, hard, pulsing with need.

Aylin’s eyes widened.

“Gods…” she whispered. “You’re huge.”

“get On your knees.” he commanded

The usually stubborn Aylin dropped to her knees the moment she saw his size. She opened her mouth and took in his length, swallowing him deep.

Ryder’s hand cradled the back of her head as she opened her mouth. He pushed his length inside slowly, letting her adjust, and then—he began to thrust. Deep. Hard. Ruthless.

Her throat clenched. Tears welled in her eyes. She gagged—but didn’t stop. She wanted this. All of it.

“Take it all, little wolf,” he moaned. “just like thaaaahhhhhh....Fuck—you’re so good at this.”

When he could take no more, he pulled out, lifted her like she weighed nothing, and carried her to the cage.

“Look at them,” he said, positioning her so she faced Kael and Lucien. “Let them see what it means to claim a siren.”

He bent her over the cage bars and thrust into her from behind.

“Fuuuck—Ryder!” she screamed, arching her back as he buried himself to the hilt.

“Receive your punishment.”

He pounded her hard. Brutal. Rhythmic. Unforgiving. The sound of flesh slapping echoed off the stone walls, mingling with her cries.

“This… is how… you f**k… a mate,” he snarled with every thrust.

Aylin’s legs were already shaking. Then she shifted slightly—and a rush of fluid poured from her p***y. Her orgasm hit her, hard and heavy. The one she’d wanted all along, the one no one else had given her, gush of heat soaking his thighs. But he wasn’t done.

He spun her around and sank onto the floor, placing her on his lap, still facing Kael and Lucien.

“Now ride me,” he commanded.

But she couldn’t. Her limbs were jelly.

So he took over.

He grabbed her hips and thrust up into her over and over. She wailed, hands clawing at his chest, tears running down her cheeks from overstimulation.

“I—Ryder—I’m cumming again! Please—please!”

But he didn’t stop. He drove her over the edge again and again until she collapsed against him, trembling and breathless.

He leaned in, lips brushing her ear.

“You’re mine now. This was one out of ten. After tonight, you’ll never beg for another c**k but mine.”

He bit into her neck—deep enough to draw blood, to mark her.

Then he stood, eyes cold, c**k still hard, and turned to Kael and Lucien.

“That’s how it’s done. That’s how to f**k a mate—not the rubbish y’all did earlier. I claimed her first. If you want to touch her again, come through me

And then he was gone.

Kael and Lucien stood there, stunned.

Ryder’s footsteps echoed down like a cruel reminder. His scent still clung to the air—wild, arrogant, victorious. Aylin lay there in a quivering heap, her body marked, claimed, utterly ruined… and yet, impossibly beautiful. Her skin glistened with sweat. Her lips were swollen from kisses and moans. Her thighs were wet from the lingering evidence of Ryder’s conquest.

Kael clenched his jaw. Lucien’s hands curled into fists.

They turned to the elder, their eyes full of storm and shame.

“Is there no way out of this?” they asked, almost in unison, though neither could bear to look the other in the eye.

The elder, ancient and unmoved, stared at the broken goddess before them.

“No. Death is the only way out. You each made the deal of who will claim her first. You all knew the rules.” His voice was low, grave. “Now go… and complete it, mark her just like Ryder , the claiming rite is complete, only death can separate you from her curse now.”