Chapter 1
Samantha’s POV
“Damn, you’re f*cking tight, Samantha,” Dominic muttered as he pushed his cock further in. I gripped his shoulders, a shock of pain jolting through me as he continued, he looked focused but detached.
I looked up at him, trying to see something, anything, that would make this feel real, feel like more than a marital duty. His sharp jaw, the dark stubble that lined it, his deep, almost dangerous eyes. He had tanned skin and long, thick lashes that framed those intense eyes, a face that could draw anyone in without a word. He was everything a she-wolf could want, including me, and he knew it.
This was the man I’d loved for years, the Alpha everyone admired, the one who made every other girl in the pack watch him with a mix of awe and longing, wanting, craving his attention, his touch, and everything of him. And now, here he was—my husband. I should have felt like the luckiest woman alive. But with every thrust, it was painfully clear that to him, I was just someone to use, a toy to play with anytime he needed.
He didn’t look at me as a man looks at his mate, not with warmth, not with love. For him, I was just an object to toy with. His movements were rough, devoid of any real connection. He held my hips firmly, but there was no tenderness in his touch—just the persistent push and pull, it was not intimate.
I wanted to tell him it was my first time, but before I could say anything, he pushed harder, filling me with a sudden pressure that made me gasp. I bit my lip to stifle a scream, tears pricking my eyes. He didn’t pause or seem to notice. Or if he did, he didn’t care.
This was supposed to be everything I’d ever dreamed of, and for years, I had wanted him, every part of me craving a life with him, believing that one day, he’d see me. He’d truly see me... and love me.
But now, all I could feel was the hollow space between us, the cold stare despite the warmth of his body, the detached look despite how close we were, the distance that seemed to separate us despite being skin-to-skin. I bit my lip to hold back the tears, refusing to let him see the way this tore me apart. He leaned down, his dark hair falling across his brow, close enough that I could catch the faint scent of cedar and smoke clinging to his skin—a scent that once filled my fantasies, but now only reminded me of how unreachable he was.
I see him as my everything, yet he looked at me as if I were nothing, and this affair, as if he were just performing some unavoidable duty. However, for me, it was more than just a duty.
“Relax, you wanted this,” he whispered to my ear, almost impatiently, his hands pinning down my hips, steadying as he stretched my pussy, tearing my hymen as he thrust deeper.
Dominic’s movements quickened, each thrust driving me closer to the edge, a place where pain and desire blurred together. His lips brushed my neck, and I thought, hoped, for a moment he might mark me, that he might claim me as his. But instead, he pulled back, his lips curling into a smirk as he watched me writhe beneath him.
“Look at you, such a slut,” he muttered with disdain. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be used like this?” he thrust with a mocking tone.