The casual sleeping partner

He strolled in with the grace of a sloth trying to breakdance, his gait swaying as if the ground beneath him was participating in an impromptu salsa. His face was a shade of red that hinted at either a vigorous workout or a disagreement with a bottle of questionable spirits.

I blinked, processing the unexpected intrusion. "Well, hello there, Mr. Shirtless Wonder. Welcome to my humble abode. Do you come bearing gifts, or is this an avant-garde interpretation of 'Nightly Abs Unleashed'?"

He squinted at me, his eyes struggling to focus on my existence. "This isn't... my place."

A stranger with ash-colored pupils that seemed to glow in the low light. He declared, with the theatrical flair of a Shakespearean actor, "I'm very thirsty."

Okay, weird entrance, but hey, maybe he was just a lost poet looking for a metaphorical drink in the desert of life. His eyes locked onto mine, and he started advancing toward me, step by step. And that's when it hit me – the feeling in the pit of my stomach that screamed, "Abort mission, Melissa, this is not a poetry reading; this is the eyes of a predator looking at its prey!"

I took a step back, trying to maintain an air of casual nonchalance. "Thirsty, huh? Well, you know, tap water is free, and I've got a budget to maintain."

He continued his slow advance, his gaze never leaving mine. "Not for water. I'm thirsty for something else."

He reached me, and the suspense thickened like a poorly mixed smoothie. "Thirsty for something else," he repeated, his voice a low murmur that danced on the edge of ominous.

Dominique, my inner wolf, piped up in my mind. "He's the alpha, Melissa. Submit to the pull."

Submit? Oh, fantastic. As if I didn't have enough existential crises on my plate. I tried to wriggle free, my awkward struggle punctuating the charged atmosphere. "Submit? Who do you think I am, a contestant on a reality show? 'Survivor: Awkward Encounters Edition'?"

He hovered over me, the scent of him enveloping my senses like a heady perfume. "You're resisting, is that what you wanted, you sly fox? You did this to me!"

My inner wolf groaned, a mix of frustration and amusement. "Would it kill you to go with the flow for once, Melissa? It's not every day you find yourself in the presence of an alpha."

I shot back, my voice a blend of stubbornness and feigned indifference, "Oh, forgive me if I don't have 'submit to alpha' on my to-do list. I was planning to conquer my fear of spiders, but sure, let's spice things up."

He chuckled again, a sound that felt like silk brushing against my skin. "You're playing hard to get. I like that."

I rolled my eyes, the tension blending with a hint of exasperation. "I did not do anything to you. You’ve confused me for someone else."

His lips quirked in a half-smile, and there it was – that magnetic pull, an invisible force that defied the laws of logic and reason. "You drugged me and fooled me into your room. I know exactly what you want."

Oh, honey, if only he knew the carnival of chaos that paraded through my mind on a daily basis. But I swear on my bank account that I have done no such thing. Drugging him? Oh no, I’d drug people for their money, but not for their dicks. But before I could further explore the intricate dance of sarcasm and innuendo, Dominique chimed in with a revelation.

"It's the tequila, Melissa. The crew's tequila from this afternoon. It's amplifying the connection."

I shot a mental glare at my inner wolf. "Tequila? Of course."

I felt heat rising inside me. 

His eyes, those piercing, alpha eyes, held a knowing glint. "You can’t fool me."

"Embrace the unexpected," Dominque softly spoke to me. I echoed, my mind swimming in a sea of confusion and newfound desires. "Is this the part where I dramatically throw caution to the wind and surrender to the alpha allure?"

His lips brushed against my neck, a tantalizing whisper that seemed to set my skin ablaze. "Surrender. There's a wild beauty in surrendering to the unknown."

My inner wolf howled in agreement, and I couldn't help but mutter, "Do I have a choice?"

As his lips continued their exploration, the room blurred into a sensual symphony of sensations. The air was charged with an intoxicating blend of desire and uncertainty, a potent cocktail that left me simultaneously exhilarated and apprehensive.

The air crackled with an unexpected tension, and my senses were on high alert. His breath, warm and intimate, got closer, sending a shiver down my spine. Panic clawed at the edges of my consciousness as I realized I couldn't move. My limbs felt heavy, my mind sluggish. Panic turned to terror.

"You drugged me," he said, his voice a low, accusing murmur.

“I did no such thing.” 

I tried to shake my head, to deny the accusation, but my body felt like it was submerged in molasses. No, this couldn't be happening. I'm not a victim. I'm Melissa – the queen of awkward situations, the mistress of sarcasm. But before I could summon my voice, before I could protest, he kissed me.

His lips were insistent, greedily swallowing mine. I felt a surge of conflicting emotions – fear, confusion, and an unwelcome flicker of something else. My mind screamed at me to push him away, to fight back, but my body refused to cooperate. It was a bizarre dance of desire and defiance, a struggle between the remnants of consciousness and the intoxicating allure of the unknown.

I managed to gasp out a muffled protest against his lips, but he seemed unaffected. His hands explored, tracing lines on my skin like an artist lost in the canvas of a masterpiece. My mind, clouded by the effects of whatever substance had rendered me powerless, fought to break free from the chains of paralysis.

This couldn't be happening. It must be a dream – a nightmare born from the twisted corridors of my subconscious mind. But the weight of his body, the taste of his lips, all felt painfully real. My inner voice, the sarcastic and awkward commentator of my life, was silenced by the overwhelming storm of sensations.

He planted a brief kiss on me again before moving from my lips to my neck. The more experienced spy left a trail of gentle pecks in his wake, pausing briefly to lick, suck, and nibble at my soft flesh. This process repeated as he moved from my neck to my breasts, alternating between kisses and varying degrees of pressure on each nipple. The biting was less frequent and forceful.

While I appreciated these teasing gestures, I was particularly fond of the gentle approach. Even as he moved lower, I deliberately ignored the place he most desired, focusing on kissing my stomach, thighs, and down my legs—everywhere except my intimate area.

By the time he finally explored my most sensitive area with his tongue, I was nearly delirious with need. I let out a guttural cry of relief, transforming into a moan of pleasure as he skillfully licked his way up to my clit. The experience was unlike what I was accustomed to.

---

Killian’s POV

I undressed her, leaving only her panties and a tee-shirt right there in the hallway. I motioned for her to pause. "Good. Now, kneel."

She complied, eyes fixed on mine, her face flushing with arousal. I took my time opening my fly, feeling the strain against the fabric as I freed myself. Stepping forward, I reached to stroke her head. Her dark hair in the warm hallway light, and her stunning green eye mirrored the tones.

Like she belongs here.

Then, I pressed my erection to her parted lips, guiding its tip inside.

Initially wide-eyed, she closed her lips, her eyes shutting as well. Perfectly arched lashes adorned her face, and she emitted soft noises, clearly reveling in the experience.

Exquisite.

A low growl escaped me as pleasure coursed through. Urgency built inside; I had to claim her. Michael - my inner wolf, screamed for it. 

Shoving my pants off, I pulled her up by her thin tee, dragging her to the living room sofa.

No time for waiting. I snarled, pressing her down by her chest with one hand, pulling her panties down with the other. Managing to free one foot, I didn't concern myself with the other.

She struggled, but I had leverage. Forcing her left thigh out to the side with my knee, I mounted her immediately.

Her entrance was tighter than before, sparking a flicker of worry and doubt as I thrust inside.

My growls and thrusts rang in my ears and the walls. I pressed harder, prying her open as her hands flailed, leaving gouges with her perfect nails. And the tears— Wet streaked her face, marking her beautiful cheeks.

Excitement surged as something primal drove every thrust. Her wails and sobs, caught thickly in her throat, accompanied my actions. My perfect tightened around my shaft as her abs flexed beneath me.

Streaked with tears just for me.

Shining pink streaks on her face pushed me over the edge, quicker than expected. My release pulsed inside her, globs of semen expelled.

Continuing to thrust, I mashed the globs against her swollen cervix amidst her sobs. As my body calmed, I withdrew carefully, noticing the blood—a small streak on my shaft. Connecting the dots, guilt flooded me, twisting into anger on my face.

"You were a virgin."