Mike

Voices tear me out of my numbness—sharp voices, chanting voices, howling voices. I’ve been sitting in the couch since she left—lifeless, powerless, and defeated.

I fucked up with Daisy.

If a wolf meets the right woman, they don’t fuck up.

I’m no wolf.

The shouts and whistles outside the caravan divert my attention, bombard my head and force me to stand up. I walk out and see a group of people gathered around Gabriel’s house.

Right. Rebel is fighting again. I know it’s him. My son has just made Daisy and me homeless.

Rebel.

I don’t allow myself to think about him because I fucking don’t know what to think about this whole mess.

If I allow myself to think, guilt will flood me. A sense of loss will flood me. I will drown in the ocean of alcohol.

I’ve watched him grow up. I’ve watched my own son grow up and I’ve said maybe ten words to him.

I pull forward and elbow my way through the crowd. Then I freeze. My very own wife is circling Rebel like a little monkey, dodging his punches. Blood is dripping from her nose. Her hair looks like a bird’s nest.

Blood is dripping from Rebel’s nose too.

Thunder lays his hand on my shoulder. “Looks like our kids have to sort out some shit between them.”

“She’s my wife,” I bark.

“Look at her,” Thunder says as admiration laces his voice.

So I look at her.

She’s moving like a cheetah now. I know those movements. My president, Zane, moves like this. And fucking hell, she’s even better than him. Younger, springier, beautiful. Her ballerina grace makes her movements light and fast. Precise as hell. She’s twirling around Rebel, teasing him and pissing him off.

I can see his hesitation to hurt her. This is her advantage and she fucking knows it.

Gabriel stands at my other side.

“You said no fights with the brothers,” I say. “She’s a girl. It doesn’t count.”

Gabriel raises his hands in a warding gesture. “Pleasure to watch your old lady.” He nods several times. “It’s a shame she’s a girl. We don’t patch girls.”

“Neither do we,” I lower my voice as I say this, “but we let them think they’re in charge.”

Gabriel erupts into laughter then a coughing fit claws at him. I slap him between shoulder blades and watch my little wife.

She spins and kicks Rebel’s calves from behind. Flinging her body to the side, she sweeps her arm and crushes his crotch.

“Fuck,” Thunder says and hisses. “Oh fuck.”

Rebel bends as Daisy punches him in the face. He sways and she kicks his calves from behind, knocking him down. Then she straddles his back and grabs his head.

“Don’t move, motherfucker, or I’ll twist your neck,” Daisy yells. “We’ve got a deal, right?”

Rebel growls with fury.

“We’ve got a deal,” Daisy yells, “a deal you’re gonna respect, right?”

“Right,” Rebel rasps.

Daisy rises to her feet and our glances meet.

I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than her in this moment.

She passes me in silence, guarding the side of her chest—a princess and a warrior blending into a perfect creation, and I follow her to the caravan. I’m mesmerised. No, I’m in love with her like some teen.

We step inside and move to the kitchen.

Blood gushes from her nose as she opens the cupboard and takes surgical needles out then she lowers and takes a bottle of vodka out. Right. I keep that stuff in case I was wounded. I watch her pull her t-shirt over her head and examine a deep cut on her arm.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

She pours some vodka over her wound and winces then holds one of the needles.

“You need anaesthesia, Daisy.”

“I’m a wolf, Mike. I need a bottle of vodka to disinfect my wound, that’s all.”

Her eyes blaze violently as she drops onto the metal bar stool and starts stitching the wound up by herself. Her tiny fingers seem a bit stiff. I bet a few of her digits are broken.

“Daisy, for fuck’s sake, I can bring you to the hospital.”

“If you’re gonna faint or something, you’d better leave the kitchen.” An eerie coldness layers her voice as her whole being oozes strength.

It must hurt as hell, but she only winces each time she pierces her skin with the needle. And fuck me, she can do it expertly. Dimitri was a great teacher.

I saw the training sessions in the Spanish Pyrenees, two or three times. Dimitri had no mercy for the girls—they’d trained since the age of eight—they cried, they bled. I saw Brianna once. She’s a ballerina-killer.

I’m standing, frozen like a monument. Enchanted. So fucking aroused that my dick is painful.

I’ve never felt anything like this. Daisy owns me. I’d die for her a hundred times.

The cut needs three stitches.

Daisy throws the needle into the sink and looks for a piece of gauze. She presses it against her cut and secures it with a piece of white sticky tape.

The kitchen is covered in blood like someone has been murdered by a vampire here.

“I’m going back to my parents’ house in two days,” she says.

“What?”

“You and Rebel have a lot of shit to work out and I want to be on my own.”

“No fucking way.”

She’s my wife. She should be with me.

“I want a divorce,” she says.

Something bangs my head like an axe.

“No fucking way,” I growl.

She pulls forward, but I obstruct her way.

“Get out of my way,” she hisses.

“You’re not going anywhere, Daisy.”

I won’t let her leave me. She’s my sanity. She’s my breath. She’s my life.

“I love you, Daisy.”

“Yeah really?”

“I do love you. I’m just a stupid old wolf. Please, don’t leave me. I’ll do anything. Anything. Everything will be your way, I promise. Just don’t leave me.” I fall to my knees and wrap my arms around her ass, kissing her tummy. “Daisy, you’re my little rat, remember? My pretty little rat. I need you. I’ll do anything, I swear.”

“Get off me.”

I massage her ass and shower her tummy with kisses, licking her around the navel. “Daisy, my pretty little rat. I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you anything. Everything you deserve.” I know this is the right moment to beg and to say all the things she wants to hear. “Please, one more chance. You won’t be disappointed. I’m gonna change, I promise. I’ll do anything.”

A mischievous gleam pervades her glance. “Anything?”

“You know I can’t live without you.”

I’m gonna shoot myself dead the moment she leaves me. She’s everything to me.

She nods. “Fuck me like I’m your wife not your kid. Love me like I’m your wife. Be my husband.”

I growl. “That’s doable.” I rise to my feet.

Our glances collide. My wife’s eyes are blazing like she’s an ancient warrior. I want to dominate that fierce warrior of hers. I’m gonna show her what being my wife means. She’ll whimper and she’ll beg for more.

She steps forward as do I, and our lips meet hungrily.

“A shower?” I say.

“It’s too narrow,” she gasps.

“Alright.”

I know what to do to her.

I remove my cut and t-shirt and toss them over the table.

I turn her so her back rests against my chest and we bend. Her hands clutch the edge of the cupboard. I unbutton her jeans and lower them along with her panties, exposing her lush ass.

With my hand on the back of her neck, I free my rock-hard cock with my other hand and guide it to her entrance. I push in and bury myself inside her to the root.

She yelps and squirms, but I hold her in place. She needs this as much as I do. She needs it rough. And so do I.

I grip her hip and fuck her hard.

Our bodies sway together, my skin covered in her blood. The sound of our heavy breaths mingles with that of my balls slapping against her ass.

I ram into her as her whimpers crescendo and turn into raspy mewling. I slam on her cervix with each thrust and I fuck her even harder until she trembles in satisfaction. Heat shoots to my toes and I cum hard. So hard there’s blackness in front of my eyes.

Daisy

I go to the bathroom and wash the blood away from my body. My muscles ache. My bottom is sore. I almost passed out when my husband fucked me. But it was wonderful.

I know who he is. I know how to make him absolutely crazy about me.

As I return to our bed, naked, Mike goes to have a shower. Ten minutes later, he lies down beside me, his body naked and still damp, hot like fire. He smells of mandarins and light sweat. Of primeval strength.

A pleasant thought floats through my mind. I’m a wife to him. Excitement surges through me, and my heartbeat speeds up.

“Tell me how much you love me,” I squeak.

I need to hear these words from him.

“I love you, little rat.” He kisses my cheek, my lips and my tit. “I haven’t finished yet.”

“I know I’m hopeless. Very inexperienced. I’m a very inexperienced little girl.”

“You’re everything to me.” He encloses me in his arms so my back rests against his chest and he nuzzles his nose against my hair, grunting, sniffing, and clearly enjoying me.

God, it feels so good.

His dick throbs against my thigh. My skin prickles. My nipples harden.

“I’m not fragile, Mike. I can be tough.”

“I’ve seen.” He grunts. “You’ve been really tough. Perfect.”

“I’ll learn everything for you.”

He grunts again and bites my earlobe then his hand plunges between my thighs and he dips a finger into my pussy. My body shivers in anticipation.

He pulls his finger out, rubs my pussy juices on my lower lip and kisses me, thrusting his tongue in. I turn into liquid hotness.

“I’ll teach you everything,” he says, planting kisses from the corner of my mouth to my ear. “You’ll be my perfect little wife.”

My pussy clenches at the primal hunger lurking in his voice.

Mike kisses my shoulder and strokes my breast. His fingers roll my nipple, causing me pain. But it’s a good pain. I crave more. I crave darker.

He turns me on my back and kisses a wet path down to my breast, drawing it fully into his mouth. His rough cheek scratches my skin as he suckles gently. My blood boils.

His fingers brush against my mound and he cups my pussy.

“You naughty girl,” he says.

I want to be naughty for him.

“Tell me to fuck you raw,” he says and grunts. “Tell me to punish you. You’ve been very naughty, Daisy.”

I stiffen at his demand. “Mike?”

He kisses my tummy, licking me around the navel and pushing a finger into my pussy.

“Be a good girl, Daisy.”

“I’ll be a good girl for you, Mike, I promise.”

“Tell me to fuck you hard.”

“Fuck me hard, please. I want to get fucked rough.”

Wow. I can’t recognise myself. But I like this filth coming out of my mouth.

Mike likes me like this too. He growls and pushes two fingers into my pussy. I moan, arching my back and teetering between pain and pleasure. He works me gently then pulls his digits out and pumps three of his fingers inside my pussy. I feel stretched. Delirious. Mike pulls out and runs one finger up to my tight opening.

I know there is no going back. But I trust him entirely. I trust him with my life.

I roll on my side, my back against his chest. I lift my knee, planting my heel on his thigh so my folded legs are spread wide for him, and he pushes his finger into my tight hole, knuckle deep. His thumb strokes my clitoris. I throw my hands behind me and sink my fingers into his hair. I immerse myself into this decadent sensation. It feels different. Foreign.

Then it feels good.

Mike fingers my two openings now and I feel like I’m rising. My muscles tense and relax as my pleasure builds in my core.

Mike turns me on my back and crawls on top of me. He drives his cock into my pussy, burying his whole length inside me.

My body rocks beneath his as he fucks me hard. He pulls out and tumbles me over on all fours, smacking my ass cheek with his palm.

It burns as hell, and I yelp.

“Be a good girl, Daisy.”

“I’m not a good a girl and you have to punish me.”

The guttural growl leaving his mouth fills me with pride.

He smacks my ass again, harder. Then again. And again until something weird happens to me and divine pleasure coats my pain. It’s a strange mix—I fear the next smack, yet I crave it, and when it’s delivered I moan, shaking, leaking, turning into hot hyperawareness. I can smell my own arousal.

“Good, Daisy?”

“Very good, Mike.”

I feel the head of his cock pushing at my tight opening.

My stomach flutters.

I’ve never done this before.

Mike must sense my anxiety, because he runs his hot, callused palm up and down my back in a soothing gesture.

He pushes in. The head of his cock goes past my sphincter.

My shoulders dip and my trembling hands seek support. I clench my teeth, digging my fingers into the pillow. The pain from his intrusion is almost unbearable like a knife is slicing my insides.

Mike stops moving; he massages my ass cheek then strokes my clitoris.

“Tell me to fuck you,” he demands.

“Fuck me. Fuck me hard. I want your big cock deep in my ass.”