Enzo’s POV
I shoved her shoulders back, my chest heaving as I fought for control.
“No, Becca.
Fuck, no.
You’re not yourself.
This isn’t you.”
But she was feral, her eyes wild with the poison burning through her veins.
Her fingers clawed desperately at my belt, yanking it open with surprising strength before I could stop her.
The zipper ripped down.
She shoved my jeans and boxers low enough for my cock to spring free.
It was thick, heavy, and painfully hard, the head already slick with pre-cum.
The cool air hit my burning skin like a shock, but her hungry gaze made it twitch violently.
“Becca, stop,” I growled, but the words died in my throat as she ground her soaked core against my bare length.
I flipped her over in one rough motion, pinning her under me on the bed.
Her torn wedding dress rode up around her waist, exposing her completely.
She arched up with a broken whimper, trying to pull me back down.
I held her there, my body caging hers without fully giving in.
I knew she wasn’t herself.
The toxin had turned her into this desperate, dripping mess.
Whatever happened here, she wouldn’t remember it clearly.
I couldn’t take her like this.
Not when she had waited for me.
Not when pack law and my own fucked-up decisions had already broken her enough.
I wanted her.
Goddess, I had wanted her for years, but there were too many reasons and too many dark secrets why I couldn’t let myself be with her.
“Fuck, Becca,” I rasped, leaning down to kiss her anyway.
It was deep and claiming, my tongue sliding against hers as she moaned into my mouth like she was starving.
Her lips were swollen, tasting like sin and desperation.
I pulled back just enough to breathe, my forehead pressed to hers.
“I want you so fucking badly, baby girl.
You have no idea how long I’ve needed this.
Needed you.”
My hand slid down her trembling body, pushing the ruined lace of her panties aside.
She was drenched.
Her pussy lips were puffy and slick, juices coating my fingers the second I touched her.
“Shit, you’re soaked.”
She cried out as I pressed one thick finger against her entrance and pushed inside.
So fucking tight.
Her walls clamped down around me, hot and silky, fluttering wildly.
“Enzo!” she moaned, her hips bucking up, trying to take more.
I started moving, slow and deep.
I curled my finger to stroke that spongy spot inside her while I rocked my hips against her thigh.
I thrust like I was actually fucking her, my leaking cock sliding against her soft skin with every roll.
The wet sounds of my finger pumping into her dripping cunt filled the room, obscene and filthy.
”Please, move,” she begged, her nails digging into my wrist as she held my hand right where she needed it.
“Enzo, I—I’ve always wanted this.
Wanted you inside me.” Her trembling hand cupped my cheek.
“Please don’t push me away again.”
“I know, baby girl,” I whispered hoarsely against her ear, my voice wrecked.
“I know.”
I couldn’t stop myself from going lower.
I yanked her thighs apart wider and buried my face between them.
My tongue dragged up her soaked slit in one long, hungry stroke, tasting her sweetness mixed with the sharp tang of her heat.
I groaned into her pussy like a man possessed, sucking her swollen clit between my lips while I added a second finger, stretching her open.
I fucked her with them harder now, using deep, relentless thrusts while my mouth worked her clit.
I sucked, licked, and devoured every drop of her arousal.
Becca thrashed beneath me, moaning my name softly, her fingers tangled in my hair as she ground against my face.
Her thighs shook around my head.
She was getting wetter, tighter, her walls pulsing around my fingers as she climbed higher and higher.
Then she went stiff.
The second she went limp, unconscious from the overwhelming rush of pleasure and poison, I pulled away, panting like I had run for miles.
My cock was still throbbing angrily between my legs, dripping and untouched.
Every muscle in my body screamed for release.
I stared down at her flushed, peaceful face, her chest rising and falling rapidly, the remnants of her wedding dress barely covering anything.
“Fuck, what the hell am I doing?” I muttered, dragging a shaky hand through my hair.
I quickly fixed her panties and pulled the torn fabric over her as best I could.
I tucked my aching cock back into my jeans with a pained hiss.
I slowly pulled away, my chin and lips wet with her juices, my chest heaving as I panted for air.
I looked down at her.
Her eyes were closed, her breathing finally slowing down into a deep, peaceful rhythm.
The bright red fever on her cheeks was already starting to fade.
She had safely gone unconscious, the peak of the pleasure finally burning out the deadly toxin.
I stood there for a second longer, staring down at her unconscious form, my cock still painfully hard and leaking, throbbing so viciously it hurt.
Her scent was everywhere—thick, sweet, and addictive—coating my tongue, my chin, and my fingers.
Her pussy juices glistened on my lips.
Every breath I took just made it worse.
“Fuck… I need release,” I growled under my breath.
I couldn’t stay here.
If I kept looking at her spread out on my bed, dress torn open, thighs still slick and trembling from the orgasm I’d forced out of her, I’d lose the last thread of control I had left.
I shoved off the bed and stalked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me but leaving it cracked just enough to hear if she stirred.
My hands were shaking as I shoved my jeans and boxers down again.
My cock sprang out, angry and heavy, the thick vein running along the underside pulsing visibly.
Pre-cum dripped steadily from the swollen head, sliding down my shaft.
I wrapped my fist around it—hard—and squeezed.
“Shit…” I hissed, my eyes slamming shut.
I started stroking.
Slow at first, then faster, twisting my palm over the head on every upstroke, spreading the slick mess.
My mind went straight to her.
I pictured those perfect tits I’d barely gotten a glimpse of when I tore her bodice open—full, soft, and flushed pink with heat.
I imagined heavy, round breasts straining for my touch, and pinning her hands above her head while I leaned down to wrap my mouth around her nipples.
I imagined sucking them dark and hard until she whimpered.
I imagined her arching into my mouth while I fingered her dripping cunt, those pretty blue eyes locked on mine, begging.
Then my mind went lower.
I saw myself spreading her thighs wider, lining up my thick cock against her tiny, soaked entrance.
I imagined pushing in—slow, relentless—feeling her tight walls stretch around me, fluttering and squeezing as I forced every inch inside her virgin pussy.
Fuck, she’d be so tight.
So hot.
I imagined my thick length finally invading her, tearing through that virginal tightness, burying myself so deep inside her that she could feel my knot pulsing against her womb.
I imagined her moaning my name, nails raking down my back as I bottomed out, balls deep, her belly bulging slightly from how full I made her.
I jerked my cock faster, the wet, filthy sound of skin on skin echoing in the bathroom.
My hips bucked into my fist like I was actually fucking her.
“Becca… fuck, baby girl,” I groaned, my voice low and broken.
I imagined pounding into her—deep, brutal thrusts that made her tits bounce, her pussy creaming all over my shaft, juices dripping down to my balls.
I pictured the filthy, slapping sounds of my heavy pelvis pounding against her smooth, pale thighs, stretching her out.
I pictured her legs wrapped around my waist, heels digging into my ass, begging me to fill her up, to knot her, to breed her while she came screaming around my cock, completely ruined by my seed.
The fantasy was too much.
My balls drew up tight, my spine lighting up with fire.
“Fuck—Becca—!” I snarled through clenched teeth as I came hard.
Thick ropes of cum shot out, splattering against the sink and mirror in heavy, messy, violent streaks.
I kept stroking through it, milking every last drop, my hips jerking with each pulse until my legs nearly gave out.
My chest heaved, my breath ragged, sweat rolling down my temples.
When it finally stopped, I stood there for a long moment, my forehead resting against the cool wall, panting as the adrenaline slowly left my system.
I looked up at my reflection—face flushed, eyes wild, lips still shiny with her arousal, cock softening in my cum-covered fist.
“What the hell are you doing, Enzo?” I muttered, my voice rough and full of disgust and self-loathing.
“You can’t do this.”
I cleaned up quickly, wiping the mess away from the glass and porcelain, but the guilt hit like a truck.
I washed my face, wiping away the remnants of the sin, and fixed my clothes.
I tucked my aching cock back into my jeans with a pained hiss and walked back into the bedroom.
I stood at the edge of the bed, my arms crossed tightly over my chest, just staring at her sleeping form.
She was still out, breathing slow and even now, the fever finally breaking.
I gently fixed the torn dress as best I could, pulling the sheets up over her body and tucking her in carefully.
My hand lingered on her cheek, my thumb brushing over her soft skin.
I stood there staring down at her for a long moment, my chest tight.
“I’m sorry, Becca,” I whispered, my voice cracking into the quiet room.
“I’m so fucking sorry.
This… this can never happen again.
I only have five years left.”
Everything I was doing—the cold masks, the cruel choices—I was doing it to save her life.
I had to protect her, even if it meant breaking her heart.
I have to stay away.
I have to.
“Stay away from her,” I whispered to my wolf, forcing the beast into submission.
I leaned down and pressed one last soft kiss to her forehead, then forced myself to step back, my fists clenched at my sides.
No matter how badly my wolf howled for her… I couldn’t let this happen.
Not ever.