Chapter 179: The Photos
Oliver’s POV
I was so mad I could feel the silver in my blood vibrating with the force of my rage. "Father, enough!" I roared, the sound tearing through my raw throat. "Aurora is my woman. You have no right to call her a slut. You will respect her, or you will answer to me."
He didn’t flinch. Instead, a cruel, mocking smile touched his lips. "Look at you. Defending a whore. You have no idea what she really is, do you? You think she’s some innocent lamb?" He reached into his coat and flung a stack of glossy pictures at me. They scattered across the white sheets, one hitting Aurora’s face.
I picked one up, and my heart skipped a beat. It was Aurora, draped in a dark cloak, walking into the BDSM club where I reigned as Raymond.
"Your innocent lover is fucking a dominant in that club," my father spat, his voice filled with disgust. "She spends her nights on her knees for a masked stranger. I got my information from a reliable source. She is playing you for a fool, Oliver."
What my father didn’t know—what he couldn’t know—was that the "Dom" in those reports was me. I looked at Aurora. Her eyes were welled up with a mixture of shame and terror, her face losing every bit of color.
I turned back to my father, my voice dropping to a deadly, quiet hiss. "Leave. Now."
"Are you for real?" he barked. "I show you she is a whore and you—"
"I said leave now," I growled, my Alpha presence flaring so hard the monitors in the room began to wail. "Leave, or I will call my guards to drag you out in front of the entire pack. You are a guest in my house, not my master."
He glared at Aurora with pure hatred, then turned on his heel and stormed out, slamming the door again. The silence that followed was broken only by Aurora’s loud sobbing. I picked up the pictures, slowly sliding them back into the envelope, my mind racing.
I turned to her, my expression soft. "Is there anything you want to tell me, baby?"
Her tears fell faster, splashing onto her leather jacket. "You... you know I work in a club," she choked out. "But it isn’t a normal club. It’s a BDSM club, Oliver.... I’m so sorry."
I nodded, my heart aching for her. "It’s okay, Aurora. I know."
She bit her lip so hard it bled, her voice trembling with a confession that she thought would destroy us. "Oliver... I’m sorry... but your father was right. I had sex with a Dom there. I know you must hate me right now; I know I’m tainted in your eyes, but Oliver, trust me, I’m done with him. I love you so much. It was a mistake, a moment of weakness..."
Silas was screaming inside me. Tell her! Tell her it was us! But fear held me back. If I told her now, amidst the trauma of Alex’s attack and my father’s insults, she would feel manipulated. She would feel like I had trapped her in two different worlds. Let’s wait for the birthday, I told myself. Just a few more days.
She started crying harder, her small shoulders shaking, thinking my silence was because I was disgusted by her confession.
"Hey, hey," I murmured, reaching out and pulling her toward me. "It’s okay. It’s nothing. You haven’t lost me."
"No, it’s not!" she sobbed against my chest. "You won’t understand... you’ve been faithful to me and I’ve let another man touch me..."
I closed my eyes, the irony stinging. I did understand—better than she could ever imagine. I still didn’t fully understand why she had me and still wanted Raymond, but I knew that both men belonged to her completely. I held her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. "Aurora, I love you. No matter what you have done, no matter where you have been, nothing will ever change my feelings for you. You are mine."
I leaned in and kissed her, a hard, desperate kiss that tasted of desire and passion. She kissed me back with a sudden hunger, her moans vibrating against my lips. The heat between us ignited instantly, a fire fueled by the fear of loss and the adrenaline of the night.
I leaned down to kiss her neck, my tongue dragging over her heated skin. She moaned loudly, her back arching as she sat on the edge of the bed in front of me. I pulled Knox’s jacket away, letting it thud to the floor. My hands went to the hem of her clothes, pulling them over her head and tossing them aside until she sat before me in nothing but her lace bra.
I unhooked the front of the bra, her breasts spilling into my palms. I leaned forward, my mouth closing over one sensitive peak, sucking hard. She let out a loud, high-pitched moan, her fingers digging into my shoulders.
"Oliver... oh god," she gasped.
I moaned back, my hand traveling down to the waistband of her panties. I didn’t bother being gentle; I tore them off her hips and tossed them away. I slid a finger inside her, finding her already slick and swollen for me. Her wetness coated my fingers, and I began to fuck her with my hand, my thumb grinding against her clit.
"Fuck, I want you," I groaned, the hunger in my blood drowning out the pain in my chest.
I pushed her back onto the bed, moving with a strength I shouldn’t have had. I slowly stripped off my hospital wear, kicking the fabric away, and pulled my boxers down. I stood before her, my cock tensed and throbbing, demanding entry.
"Oliver, we shouldn’t," she whispered, her eyes wide with worry even as her legs fell open for me. "You’re still injured... the healers are right outside the door..."
"I don’t care," I growled, leaning over her. "I need to feel you. I need to know you’re mine."
She was worried, but the heat in her gaze told me she was just as turned on as I was. I settled between her thighs, the tip of my cock glancing against her soaking folds. I took a deep breath and thrust in, burying myself to the hilt in one slow, agonizingly perfect motion.
We both moaned in unison, the sound echoing in the small room. I began to fuck her at a slow, steady pace, each thrust hitting deep, making her toes curl against the sheets. She moaned and moaned, her head tossing back and forth on the pillow, her voice sounding like a melody to my ears.
The sensation of her body meeting mine was a drug more powerful than any morphine the healers could provide. I reached down and grabbed one of her ankles, hitching her leg up so her foot was flat against the mattress, opening her up completely. The new angle allowed me to drive into her with a savage depth.
"Oliver...," she cried out, her head thumping back against the pillow as I increased the speed.
I didn’t hold back. I ignored the white-hot flare of pain in my chest where the silver had burned me, focusing only on the way her internal muscles clamped around me with every punishing thrust. I was fucking her hard, my hips slamming against hers with a rhythmic, wet sound that filled the sterile room. I wanted to erase the memory of my father’s words, the memory of Alex’s touch, and even the shadow of Raymond. I wanted her to feel only me.
"You’re mine, Aurora," I rasped, my breath hitching as her wetness coated my thighs. "Say it."
"I’m yours... only yours!" she wailed, her fingers clawing at my biceps.
Suddenly, she let out a panicked breath and pushed against my shoulders. I fell back against the pillows, my breath coming in sharp gasps, thinking I had hurt her—but then she moved. With a speed I didn’t know she possessed, she crawled over me, her messy red hair falling over her face like a veil.
She hovered over my throbbing length for a heartbeat, her eyes dark with a desperate kind of need, before she slowly lowered herself. I let out a guttural groan as she took me back in, her tight pussy swallowing me whole. She didn’t stop there. She began to roll her hips in a slow, agonizing circle, grinding her core against mine.
"Fuck, baby... yes," I growled, my hands flying to her hips. I squeezed the plush skin of her ass, my fingers digging in as I helped her maintain the torturous rhythm.
She leaned forward, her hands planted on my chest for balance, and began to bounce. The sight was enough to make my wolf howl in triumph. Her breasts were bouncing with every movement, the tips of her hair brushing against my skin. She was taking every inch of me, her face contorted in a mask of pure, unadulterated pleasure.
"Oliver! Oh, Moon Goddess... Oliver!"
She picked up the pace, her movements becoming wild and uncoordinated as she chased her peak. I reached up and grabbed her breasts, my thumbs flicking over her nipples as she hammered down on me. The friction was becoming unbearable, a building wave of pleasure.
I looked up at her, seeing the way her neck arched and her eyes fluttered shut, and I knew she was close. I gripped her waist, lifting my hips to meet her downward strikes, meeting her force with my own until the world outside those doors ceased to exist. There was only this—the passion, the scent of our sex, and the raw, primal claim I was staking on the daughter of Sterling Mountain.