Chapter 11 - Cassandra

The kiss is fiery, urgent, and desperate as his hand cups the back of my head, and he deepens the kiss by tilting his face. Sighing, any tension I had skittered off and left behind a wave of softness that melts me to him.

I'd often wondered what his lips would feel like, and now that he's kissing me, it's almost as if it's too good to be true. His skillful tongue explores my mouth, curling and teasing the roof of my mouth before intertwining with my own tongue in a heated dance.

Drinking in the warm pulses of his breath as if he's feeding me, it becomes my sustenance as I lose myself to the expertise of his kisses. Mewling, I pull away to catch my breath, only to grapple at the last semblance of sanity when I begin to lose my sense of self. But when we lock eyes, his deep, profound depths of lust call out to me in the silence of our heavy panting. It's a wordless invitation, temptation so persuasive that I can't help but fling myself forward and throw my arms around his neck.

Deftly catching me with strong hands on my hips, Cyrus groans smoothly on my lips as he lifts me off my feet and swiftly drapes my thighs around his waist. With our lips locked in a feverish kiss, I only feel the draft of wind on my back as he carries me forward.

I'm pressed between his hot, rigid body and the coarse composition of a tree behind me, clinging to his neck as my lips cling to the passionate kiss. Hot and sloppy, lewd sounds erupt in the air as he gyrates his hips into me.

The stiff mound of his erection stroking my clothed core causes friction against my bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves of tingles that ignite my arousal to soaring heights. I pull my lips away only to moan out loud when the sensations become unbearably powerful, and I can't control the need to let go.

“Cyrus… Cyrus…” His name rolls off my tongue in perfect intervals between my escalating moans. Gripping fistfuls of his t-shirt, my back arches off the tree trunk in an attempt to feel the full efficacy of his gyrating hips.

His deep, throaty chuckle prompts me to lift my head, brows curdling with stark confusion as he grips my hips and pulls me flush against his chest. He spins me over, my feet crashing to the ground when he releases his firm grip.

My bottom lip trembles with disappointment when he steps away, and I'm left wanton and slightly dejected. I have no idea what's going on when he stares down at my face; his eyes glossed over with hunger.

“You're gonna have to do something to snap me out of this…” he rasps, his voice menacingly deep as his jaw clenches. The wound balls of tenacity pulsing underneath his earlobes should be frightening.

But it's the look of lust in his eyes that subdue me, and I reach out to tentatively touch his cheek.

No longer worried that the heated moment was over, I recognized his hesitation for what it was.

He doesn't want me to regret this. He doesn't want me to snap out of my daze and criticize him for whatever he's about to do.

How do I tell him that this is everything I could ever want? How do I tell him that my body craves his closeness and that these clothes are insufferable?

When he closes his eyes and burrows his face into my palm, I'm certain of the reason for his pause.

“I don't want you to snap out of this, Cyrus,” I whisper tentatively, taking a bold step forward as I stroke his worries from his cheek. “I want this as much as you do.”

Cyrus opens his eyes, staring at me disbelievingly while he places a hand on my wrist. His eyes soften and his breath slows down, and he drawls, “You have no idea how much I want this.” He steps forward, his larger frame engulfing me in the promises of what he's about to do. “You have no idea how much I want you.”

My knees cave, but Cyrus moves swiftly to capture me in his strong embrace, lips seizing mine for an earth-shattering kiss that sends sensation rushing to every nerve-ending in my body. With fluid motions, my sweater comes off, exposing me to the brisk coolness of the Autumn night air.

It's Cyrus's fingertips that ignite heat to the surface of my skin as they ghost across my collarbones before he turns his hand and journeys his knuckles over the mounds of my breasts leaking from my bra cups. His sharp intake of breath is intoxicating, sending arousal to pool between my thighs. The way he drinks the sight of my breasts is addicting while his own eyes become addicts, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he sucks in another breath.

“Beautiful…” he praises gently, a stark contrast to the way he tugs the cups of my bra to let my breasts spill forward without warning. A guttural groan reverberates from his chest as he falls forward on his knees and buries his face in the valley of my breasts.

Open-mouthed kisses are imprinted on my flesh, his hands kneading the mounds and erecting my nipples between his thumbs and indexes. Goosebumps erupt on my skin, inflamed by the ministrations of his moist lips as they settle over one breast. I'm ready to explode when teeth clamp gently but firmly on an erected nub, and I card my fingers through the satiny waves of his golden-blonde hair.

“Cyrus… Please…” I beg treading a fine line between wanting him to stop teasing and needing him to go on. I'm losing my mind at this point, tugging harshly at the roots of his hair to stop him when he flicks the tip of his tongue on my sensitized nipple.

“You want me to stop?” he taunts with a chaste kiss on the side of my breast.

I don't stop tugging him up, crushing my lips to his in desperation once he's standing.

“Don't. Stop,” I command through kisses. “Please. Don't. Stop.”

Cyrus growls on my lips, the vibration of the sound sending electric currents of pleasure coursing through every inch of my body. Clinging to his shoulders and savoring every kiss, I'm inundated with relief when I feel his hand sliding between the waistband of my jeans and disappearing beneath the soft lace of my underwear.

A long, dexterous middle finger settles on my bundle of nerves, applying calculated pressure that has me seeing stars at the back of my head when my eyes roll back. The pleasure is immaculate, exceeding any expectations I might have had about what it would feel like to be touched by a man.

Not just any man, but Alpha Cyrus Rudolph, who'd been the reason why I'd never allowed another man to touch me. Perhaps I'd been holding out hope for the very moment when the Alpha himself imparts pleasure on my core, stroking me to new heights as I clamp my teeth on his bulging bicep. Moaning and mewling, I hang on for dear life when he slides his finger down my seeping folds, gathering my slick to lubricate the finger he uses to enter my womanhood.

“Oh, my Goddess…” Cyrus hums at my ear, wrestling only a finger against my tightness while one hand curls at my neck. “... You're so tight, Cassie…”

“Hmm…” I whimper, my body quaking the moment he enters me deep enough to find that special soft spot inside. When he curls his finger and taps, my moans escalate to screams as the tight knot in the pit of my belly is ready to burst. “Cyrus! Oh, Cyrus!” I yelp, my eyes clouding with tears. “Please don't stop! I'm gonna c—”

“Come for me, baby,” he encourages with a husky rasp, his lips on mine strategically as he breathes in my moans. “That's right… come for me.”

His hot breath, coupled with the deep mysteries of his voice, sends me over the edge. Tears stream down my cheeks just as vivid colors flash behind my eyelids. With no concept of where I end or begin, my climax turns me into a pile of atoms that don't need to think or breathe, just feel. I feel everything and nothing all at once.

It's only when he kisses my lips that I'm refilled with the air I'd lost in my lungs, and slowly, my mind climbs back to the surface of reality. As the air travels down my lungs and brings back awareness to my body, I open my eyes and realize we're lying on a bed of clothing on the semi-dried lawn.

I turn my face toward Cyrus, his bare arm under my neck as he gazes into my eyes. My heart skips a beat when I realize that the rest of him is bare, too, his smooth, tanned skin rippling across defined muscles. The only thing that remains is a pair of briefs hung low on his hips.

“I was gonna take you like a ruthless beast,” he admits, caressing my torso with gentle fingertips. “I had no idea…” his voice falters off as his eyes flick to my body, and he gulps.

I reach out and cup his cheek, the tenderness of the moment becoming raw while my body saunters back to the throes of excitement.

“I told you already, Cyrus… I want this,” I assure him, blushing when his eyes meet mine again.

There's a softness in those emerald depths, a tenderness that tugs my heartstrings and solidifies my declaration. I want this, and I want him.

I've never wanted anyone else. Even when he picked on me for the silliest things, it was him my body craved. Every time I rejected another man, it was Cyrus who was always in the back of my mind like an entity willing me to save myself for him.

“Goddess…” he sighs, leaning in and cradling my cheek with the hand that leaves my belly. “... You're perfect.”

His appreciation is punctuated with a chaste kiss, a soft melting of his lips on mine as he rises above me, then lowers his solid frame between my thighs that part spontaneously to make way for him. When he pulls back and sits on his heels, his glorious muscles are illuminated by the soft caress of the moon and stars. I tuck my bottom lip between my teeth, anticipation building up between my thighs as I rake my eyes down his gorgeous, manly frame. It's not just a beautifully carved face that sits on his shoulders, but those broad shoulders are carved by the Goddess herself in the image of Adonis.

The Moon Goddess must have been feeling mischievous when She took Her sweet time creating the Alpha of The Moon Shine Pack. Each ab is so perfectly outlined, tapering into a v-line on either side of his abdomen. Then, there's a trail of faint honey-golden hair that trickles from below his belly button and disappears beyond the waistband of his boxers, hinting at the treasure that lies at the end of that golden rainbow.

Instinctively, I reach out and follow the line, breath hitching in my throat when my fingertip meets the stained spot on the crotch of his boxers.

My unsteady breathing prompts him to remove the single item that keeps him modest. Watching me through hooded eyes, he slips the boxers down, his rigid, distended erection springing free from its confines.

Gasping, all I can do is marvel at his member, the bulbous tip dripping with glistening slick. My heart thumps with anticipation as he slowly tends to the button and zip on my jeans, peeling down the layers. Each movement is fluid and natural as I buck my hips up, and he pulls my jeans and underwear swiftly off my hips. He lifts my legs and places my knees on his shoulder to fully expose me, kissing my ankle before softly drawing my thighs apart.

He climbs back over me, eyes heady pits of desire as he takes his cock in his hand, then smooths the pad of his thumb across the crown, then lines the tip at my aching hole.

My walls clench around nothing as I anticipate the stretch. A flicker of fear skitters through my chest, and Cyrus catches my gasp and then stares deeply into my eyes with gentle conviction.

“This might hurt a little,” he says. “I'm gonna be as gentle as I can, okay?”

His gentle concern touched my heart as I am shown a different side of the man. There's something so caring and genteel about him, and it moves me.

Nodding slowly, I slide my palms over his muscular shoulders. “I trust you, Cyrus,” I whisper. My faith in him is rewarded with a passionate, toe-curling kiss that distracts me long enough for him to enter the enclosure of my womanhood.

Slowly, he inches his cock between my walls, and the stretch is as delicious as it's smarting. My nails bite into his shoulder blades while I take my focus off the dull ache and instead follow the culminating pleasures beyond the pain. When he's deep inside, his throbbing cock nestled against my g-spot, he breaks the kiss and stares deeply into my eyes.

“Are you okay?”

I nod slowly into his palm when he cradles my cheek, the intricacies of pleasure outweighing the burning sensation of the stretch. When I wiggle beneath him, the slight movement proffers the kind of friction that I need right now.

“I'm fine…” I whimper. “I need—” my voice breaks off abruptly. I don't know what I need, except that I need it. Cyrus seems to understand and slowly begins to draw his hips back, then languidly thrusts back into me.

Each stroke is purposeful, adding to the pleasure that builds up in the pit of my belly and coils into the tightest knot. When he reaches between our bodies and presses firm circles over my clit with the pad of his thumb, blood rushes to my bundle of nerves, and I think I'm about to pass out.

“Cyrus! Please! I can't!” I scream, but my body betrays me as I match his thrusts, bucking my hips in tune with his. I want more; I need more.

I think I'm going crazy.

“Look at me,” Cyrus ordered, holding my chin to keep my face steady as he stared determinedly into my eyes. It's like he's seeing my soul, as bare and exposed as my body is beneath him. “I'm gonna come,” he says, his voice strained and husky. “I need you to come with me, okay?”

I nod ardently, gripping his shoulders more tightly as I comply. I let out the breath I'd been holding on as his thrusts became firmer until he groaned and spilled thick, hot ropes of cum deep inside me. When his strokes become shallower, it's the pace I need to leap off the edge of the cliff of my climax.

His arms slink around me, pulling me to the side as we ride out the high together. Breath coming in hot pants, our chests heaving in unison, my body slumps in his arms.

Spent and sated, the stars that flicker behind my eyelids make up the prettiest constellation I've ever experienced. My body feels amazing, every nerve enlightened by the fullness I just felt.

I'm about to lift my head from his arm when a buzzing sound fills my ears. My eyelids fly open only to notice that he's staring sternly at the night sky.

“... They're on the north border, Alpha! We're giving chase!”

In a split second, Cyrus sits upright and pulls me up by the arm.

“Quick…” he says with urgency in his voice, grabbing my clothes in a bundle and shoving it into my arms. “Get dressed.”

“Cyrus, what's going on?” I ask, confused by his sudden shift to seriousness, his brows sharpened like blades cast above his eyes. All I caught was the short end of Dante's warning, but I'm not sure what's going on.

“Just get dressed and go home, Cassandra,” he commands flatly. Gone is any trace of the passion we just shared, replaced by the urgency that has him hastily pulling his pants up his legs.

“Will you tell me what's going on?” I ask through the fabric of my sweater as it slides over my head. Panic rises, raising the pace of my beating heart.

“The rogues are upon us,” he reveals, followed by a string of curses under his breath. Facing the edge of the cliff, he runs a hand through his hair and grunts when howling wolves can be heard faintly in the distance.

Rogues?

The ones I overheard him speak about the other night?

“I don't understand, Cyrus…”

I get to my feet and pull up my jeans when he snaps back toward me, eyes narrowing as if rage fuels his vision.

“Hurry up!” he roars. “ Please , Cassie!”

The “please” is what strikes me, prompting me to take a step to him and cup his face with both hands.

“Cyrus, what's going on? Talk to me, p-please,” I croak, my bottom lip worrying while I stare into his eyes.

“Cassandra…” he begins, then sighs. “There's no time to explain. The pack is in danger, and I need to go.” With regret flashing in his eyes, Cyrus peels my hands from his face and turns away.

“I'm coming with you,” I declare firmly. “If—”

“No!” he bellows, snapping back around. “You're going home, Cassandra.” He steps forward, and this time, he's the one who cradles my cheek. “I won't let you go out there. I won't let you risk your life. Go home. Please. I need you to be safe.”

The troubled look contorting his face is what amplifies his conviction, and it tugs my heartstrings with the realization that Cyrus actually cares about me.

He cares about my safety.

I nod, watching as he shifts into wolf form and runs toward the edge of the cliff. He glances over his back, wolf eyes apologetic, before he leaps over the cliff to rush to the aid of the others.

I quickly gather my senses and invoke my wolf to take me back home as fast as I can. After tonight, my trust in Cyrus has been reinstated.

Not because we'd shared passion on the mountain but because of the deep concern and care I witnessed when he begged me to go back home before rushing off to protect the pack.

I might not know the details of the dangers that lurk on our borders while the howls of the Moon Shine wolves rage on in the distance. But one thing is for sure: I am confident that we'll be safe as long as Alpha Cyrus is out there protecting us.

Protecting me.

It seems I was wrong about him. I won't let my ego get in the way anymore. Cyrus Rudolph has just proven to be the man I always knew he could be, the man I'd been holding out for, who I'd finally given in to.