Chapter 131: Use His Own
"I’ve wanted to do that," Riven whispered against Ronan’s skin, voice laced with satisfaction. "Since the moment you marked me."
Ronan didn’t respond with words. He didn’t need to. The slow, steady rise and fall of his breath, the way his shoulders remained relaxed beneath Riven, said everything. He was allowing it. He wanted it.
Riven smiled softly and placed a kiss on the fading bite, then began to move lower.
His lips pressed along the line of Ronan’s spine—slow, measured, and deliberate. Each kiss was a silent vow, a wordless appreciation. He traced the bumps of vertebrae like a sacred path, occasionally brushing his nose along the dips between muscles, breathing in Ronan’s scent.
Always that warm, rich scent that somehow felt so... him. Strong, grounding, a little bitter, but addictive in its own way. Riven didn’t even know why Ronan smelled like that—something about scent glands and pheromones—but he didn’t care. He loved it.
With every kiss, he pressed lower, the tension in Ronan’s body softened more and more, until he was practically melting into the mattress. Riven didn’t stop. He kissed the small of his back, then ghosted his lips back up again, retracing the path with feather-light touches and soft exhales.
When he reached the middle again, he stopped. He placed his palm firmly on Ronan’s back, pressing him down. It was showtime.
He did not know from where he got the strength, or maybe perhaps, this was the power of a horny wolf. No, a horny half-wolf. He was able to keep Ronan steady in place. There was a little bit of struggle. Ronan came to terms with loss of control in theory but when he actually had to deal with, he was not taking it as well as he hoped.
Ronan’s fingers dug deep into the sheets, he let out a small groan at the pressure being placed on his back. Being compliant was not something he, of all people, was used to.