CHAPTER 6: CLAIMING MY SON’S LUNA

CASPIAN’S POV She weighed f*****g nothing. That was the first problem. She was so small that every bump in the road bounced her soft little ass right down onto my c**k, grinding her warm p***y against my zipper like she was trying to ride me without knowing it. I was rock-hard, throbbing painfully, and this tiny thing had no idea she was slowly killing me. Or maybe she did, because her fingers kept tightening on my knees every time the SUV hit a dip, her nails digging through my slacks like she was holding on for dear life. I was hard enough to drive nails and this flustered little wolf was perched on top of it, staring at the privacy partition like it had the instructions for how to survive three hungry Alphas. Fuck, she’s adorable. Her cheeks were burning that shade of red I was quickly becoming obsessed with — the one that started at her ears and bled all the way down her throat and disappeared into the neckline of that criminally short dress. I wanted to follow it with my mouth. I wanted to peel that dress down and find out exactly where the blush ended. Instead, I clamped my hands heavy on her hips and held her exactly where I wanted her. “Rule number two,” she breathed, her voice completely unsteady as she stubbornly kept her eyes glued to the front. “Absolutely no kissing. Especially on the mouth. And zero tongue.” Rule number two. This woman was making a list. Sitting on my hard c**k in a car full of Alphas who could smell exactly how wet she was getting, and she was making a numbered list of boundaries like she was chairing a board meeting. I had to physically stop myself from smiling. My wolf was pacing laps behind my ribs, tail wagging like a degenerate. Gideon let out a low, gravelly chuckle from the left, shifting his massive shoulders so he crowded her side even more. “You’re missing the entire point of the charade, sweetheart,” Gideon drawled, completely amused. “We’re supposed to be feral club presidents who don’t share their toys. If I don’t have my tongue in your mouth by the second course, they’re going to think we rented you out of a catalogue.” Her face went nuclear red. “I am not a toy! And you can look possessive without swapping saliva in front of a dinner table!” The bravery-to-body-awareness ratio on this woman was absolutely criminal. Gideon caught my eye over her head, and his grin said exactly what I was thinking. “She’s making rules, Cap,” Gideon murmured, low enough that she couldn’t quite catch it. “I give it ten minutes.” “Generous,” I said. Kaiven let out a dark, mocking snort from the right side of the car, his massive arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t even bother looking at her, his head tipped back against the leather. “You’re sitting on a President’s lap, trembling like a virgin, and trying to negotiate kissing like we’re f*****g teenagers,” Kaiven sneered. “You’re vibrating like a cornered rabbit. You just might prove my point that you’re a terrible choice for this.” Her whole body bristled. “Hey, we met exactly three hours ago!” she snapped, her voice shaking. “You don’t know me well enough to hate me this much. I’m trembling because it’s freezing and I’m crammed into the back of an SUV with three feral giants who won’t stop talking about my mouth!” She let out a frustrated sound, trying to physically shove herself off my lap. I didn’t let her move an inch. My hands clamped onto her waist, dragging her soft curves flush against my zipper. The friction made her breath stutter. My jaw locked. She was five-foot-nothing of outraged fury, and the way she squirmed against my c**k was shredding my control. Every feral instinct I had urged me to hike her dress up and show her exactly what she was grinding against. Kaiven let out a chest-rattling growl. A murderous glare fired off at her, his massive shoulders shifting in the dark like he was about to reach across the seat and choke her again. Gideon loudly cleared his throat. “Ignore Kaiven. He’s a colossal asshole,” Gideon purred, his large, heavily ringed hand wrapping loosely around the back of her neck. His thumb stroked a slow, devastating line over her racing pulse. “But he’s right about one thing. If some fumbling fool looks at you too long tonight, I’m putting my mouth exactly where it needs to be to remind him who you belong to. And you’re going to let me.” Her cheeks burned a violent, beautiful red. She lifted her chin, trying desperately to hold onto whatever was left of her pride. “And what if I don’t want to kiss you?” Gideon let out a low, wicked chuckle. His dark eyes dropped to her trembling mouth, tracking the nervous way her teeth scraped her bottom lip. “Really, princess?” he murmured, leaning in until his hot breath ghosted over her skin. “You don’t want to find out exactly how deep my tongue can go? You’re going to sit on my brother’s lap and tell me your body isn’t even a little curious?” Bree’s lips parted. No sound came out. The blush was creeping down her chest now, disappearing under the dress, and f**k, I’d have done anything to follow it. There was just something about this woman that drove my wolf’s limits, made me hungry and curious and possessive. Gideon’s thumb traced another slow circle on her pulse, and he shot me a mischievous, feral grin over her shoulder. “What do you think, Cas? Does she smell like a woman who wants us to keep our mouths to ourselves?” “She smells like a beautiful little liar,” I murmured mockingly. Before she could indignantly deny it, my hands slid from her waist down to her bare inner thighs. With one effortless, dominant pull, I dragged her hips flush against me, forcing her knees wider so her hot little p***y sank right down onto my aching c**k. A sharp, helpless gasp tore from her throat. The sudden friction made her grind hard against the thick seam of my zipper, her warm cunt rubbing desperately over my hard length. She let out the smallest, most humiliating little whimper in the back of her throat — barely a sound, but in a car full of Alphas it might as well have been a moan. Gideon’s head tilted a fraction of an inch in the dark, hunger and amusement catching a glint in his green eyes. “f**k,” he groaned, a filthy, devouring sound as his eyes tracked the way she melted into the position. “Look at her opening up for you. I’m almost jealous. One tug and she’s already dripping for us. So much for a tough fight, Just Bree.” I tightened my grip on her exposed thighs. “You don’t make rules tonight, little wolf,” I stated calmly, cutting through the banter with cold authority. She swallowed hard, the fight draining out of her as the sheer heat of my body anchored her down. “We aren’t little boys asking for your permission,” I murmured, my thumbs pressing into her hips. “We are men providing you with a very expensive service. You don’t dictate the terms. You take what we give and when we give it. Understood?” She stared down into my eyes, her breath catching. Up close, she was so breathtaking it made my chest tight, but the way she trembled against my lap made my c**k ache for entirely different reasons. She gave a tiny, defeated nod and melted into me, completely overwhelmed by the sheer, dominance of three Alpha Kings. Her head dropped to my collarbone. Slowly, her white-knuckled grip on my knees released, her fingers settling open-palmed. Trusting. A sudden, violent protectiveness flared in my chest. I didn’t have time to deal with it tonight. “Good girl,” Gideon said softly, and her whole body flushed hot against mine. Kaiven watched the exchange from the corner of his eye. His expression said nothing. His jaw said everything — tight, working. He didn’t trust her. I knew that. But he was looking at the spot where her hand rested on my knee like it personally offended him, and I’d known this man for twenty years, and that particular expression meant he wanted to touch her and was furious about it. “What was rule number one?” Kaiven asked, his tone flat. He was staring at the ceiling again. Bree blinked. “What?” “You said rule number two. What was rule number one?” She opened her mouth, closed it. Her brow furrowed, and her eyes went slightly panicked, and I realised with absolute delight that she could not remember. She’d been so flustered by the time she got to rule two that rule one had evaporated. “I…” She hesitated. “It was… don’t…” Gideon leaned forward, chin in his hand, watching her with the expression of a man enjoying the best show of his life. “Take your time, princess.” “Shut up,” she muttered, and buried her burning face against my neck. I could feel her embarrassed little smile against my throat. My hand came up to the back of her head before I could stop it, fingers threading through her hair. She stiffened for a second, then softened. Then pressed closer. I was in serious f*****g trouble. One arm candy should not affect me this much. The tension in the car abruptly shifted as the vehicle slowed and turned onto a private, winding road. The thick trees parted. A sprawling, massive estate rose in the distance. Through the tinted windows, towering iron gates came into view. “Whose fancy dinner is this anyway?” Bree asked, dropping her hands and trying to force some air into her lungs as she looked out the window. “Who exactly are we seeing tonight?” “Some arrogant, cry-baby prick who grates my last nerves,” Gideon drawled lazily, checking his phone. “Adam Rivera.” Bree stopped breathing entirely. In my lap, her soft body went as rigid as a board. Her hands began to shake violently against my knees. The sudden, overwhelming scent of raw, paralysing terror flooded the tight car, thick enough to choke on. Kaiven’s head immediately snapped toward her, his instincts flaring at the sudden spike of fear. My own wolf snapped to attention with a brutal, murderous snarl that rattled my chest. She wasn’t just afraid of the dinner. She was staring at the glowing crest above the iron gates, the colour draining completely from her face. “That’s…” she choked out, a horrified, broken whisper that sent a shockwave through the entire car. “That’s my husband.” The air in the SUV vanished. My stomach dropped out completely as my eyes flicked to the ugly bruise still darkening her beautiful cheek. The Rivera crest glared down at us. My estranged bloodline. The vile legacy I had walked away from decades ago, leaving behind a son I barely recognised anymore. Every piece slammed into place with violent clarity. The familiarity of her face. The elite pack elegance. She was the Luna of Willowcrest. And the bastard who had hit her was my son.