Chapter 38: [M] Take all of me

Chapter 38 (Cameron POV) I’ve seen deserts stretch into painted horizons. I’ve stood on the edge of snowy cliffs and watched clouds crawl beneath my boots. But none of it—nothing—compares to this. Lenora. Bent forward on the blanket, hands braced in the grass, back arched perfectly, waiting for me. It’s like the moon’s spotlighted her just for me. Her bare skin glows silver, her body trembling, slick with sweat and heat and everything I’ve craved but told myself I couldn’t touch. Until now. My joggers and briefs hit the ground in one frantic motion. I kneel behind her, and gods—I’m hard enough it hurts. My cock twitches, pulsing, angry and heavy and leaking, like it’s been waiting for this longer than I’ve been willing to admit. Don’t embarrass me, I tell it, breathing heavily through clenched teeth. I really don’t want to come too soon. But I’m already losing it. My fingers find her hips—no, claim her hips—and the possessive thrill that zips through me is... not human. Not fully. There’s something low and snarling buried under my ribs, something that wants to mark her, to rut until I’m drained and empty and she’s full of nothing but me. I rub against her slowly at first, dragging my cock over her slick folds, up to her lower back, smearing precum like a beast scent-marking his mate. My hands spread her wider, like I need to see all of her, confirm again that she’s real. She whimpers. The sound rips through me like lightning. It’s not fully human—guttural, wild—and instead of flinching, I lean in. I breathe her in, jaw tight. The air is damp with the smell of earth, sweat, sex, and her. Crickets hum in the grass. Somewhere deep in the trees, a low howl rises—and gods help me, I want to answer it. I don’t even realize I’m growling until she pushes back against me and gasps. "Fuck," I mutter, voice hoarse. I grab the base of my cock, line up, and— Lenora looks over her shoulder, mouth parted, eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "Cameron—" I thrust. Not gentle. Not careful. But she cries out and pushes back to meet me, so I do it again, deeper this time. Her heat swallows me whole. She’s so wet, so tight, it’s perfect—gods, it’s perfect. My fingers dig into her hips as I find a rhythm, fast and rough, hips slapping, skin on skin, the sound echoing between the trees like a drumbeat meant for animals, not men. My vision’s tunneling. Every part of me is focused on this—on her. Her moans, her scent, the way her back arches more with every thrust. My hand slides up, finds her hair, and wraps it around my fist. I pull gently—then harder—and she lets out a noise that makes my control snap like twine. "Mine," I growl. I don’t mean to say it, but I do. Lenora whines in answer. Not says. Whines. And I fucking lose it. I slam into her harder, deeper, my balls slapping against her ass, the slick sound vulgar and satisfying and primal. My other hand sneaks under her body, finds her clit, and I rub—fast and rough, no rhythm, just instinct. She chokes on a scream. Her body clamps around me, pulsing, fluttering, and I know—I know—she’s coming. She’s shaking, panting, sobbing my name into the grass as her orgasm rolls through her. But I’m not done. I can’t be. Something inside me—different and wolf—isn’t done. My hands dig into her hips, claws itching beneath my fingertips. My jaw aches, and I realize it’s from how tightly I’ve been clenching it, how close I am to losing the line between man and beast. It’s not just about sex anymore. I want to mark her. Bite her. Claim her in every way that means mine. And the terrifying part? I don’t want to stop myself. But I do. I try. Because I always have. Always held back. Always been afraid to snap the leash all the way. Too strong. Too rough. Too much. That voice inside me—the boy who learned early not to play too hard, not to grab too tight—starts to surface, cutting through the haze. I slow. "Lenora," I rasp, my voice a raw thread. "I—" "Don’t stop," she gasps. "Cameron, fuck me." I freeze. She’s trembling, sweat-slick, her voice wrecked and wild and beautiful. "By the Goddess," she cries out, arching back against me, "I’m the one person on this planet that can handle your strength. Let go." My entire body goes still, did she just read my mind?My entire body goes still. Those words—those exact words—slam into me like lightning. She doesn’t even know what she’s saying. Doesn’t know she’s speaking straight to every hidden fear I’ve carried since I was a child and first realized I was stronger than every other boy, every man. The fear that I’d hurt someone. Break someone. That I’d never get to have this—all of this—because no one would ever be able to take me. But she can. She’s still beneath me, panting, needy, looking over her shoulder with defiant eyes and a glowing flush. Waiting. Begging. For me. I snap. But not out of control. I let go. A guttural growl tears from my throat as I grab her hips again, harder this time, and slam into her like she asked me to. My thrusts deepen—full, punishing, devastating. Her entire body jolts forward with each one, and she moans like she’s unraveling all over again. She screams my name—then my title. "Alpha." Her voice breaks on it, and my wolf roars in triumph inside me. I feel the shift. The real one. Like something inside me locks into place for the first time in years. Not just the wolf. Not just the man. Both. There’s no hesitation now. No fear. Just us—wild and frantic and perfectly, perfectly matched. The rhythm gets rougher, unrelenting. I’m chasing another high now, her next orgasm and mine twisted together. She’s gasping beneath me, begging, praising, breaking in the best fucking way. And for the first time in my life, I don’t pull back. I don’t hold anything in. I fuck her like she’s mine. Because she is. And she can take all of me.