The Sire’s Claim

"What the hell are you doing down here?"

Dominic’s voice didn't just break the silence; it bruised it.

I spun around, the kettle slipping from my grip and clattering into the sink. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. He was just standing there, framed by the kitchen archway, draped in nothing but a dark towel that hung dangerously low on his hips.

He was dripping. Beads of water trailed down the hard, sculpted ridges of his chest, disappearing into the white terry cloth. The scent of him rain, expensive cedar, and that heavy, suffocating Alpha musk hit me like a physical blow.

"I... I couldn't sleep," I managed, my voice sounding thin and pathetic in the massive kitchen.

"You're shaking, Harper." He didn't move. He just watched me with those predatory, amber-flecked eyes.

"The AC is high. I'm cold."

"Liar." He took a step forward. Then another. He didn't walk; he prowled. "You’re not cold. Your skin is flushed, and your pulse is jumping in your throat like you’re ready to bolt. Or jump."

I backed up until my spine hit the cold quartz of the island. "Madison’s asleep. I was just making tea."

"Forget the tea." He boxed me in, slamming his palms onto the counter on either side of my waist. He was a wall of heat and damp skin. I was trapped. "Why were you looking at those photos on the stairs? I saw the blue light on your face. Deleting him won't scrub the scent of failure off your skin."

The sting of his words made me snap. "What the f**k do you know about it, Dom? Logan was"

"A boy," Dominic growled, leaning in so close his breath stirred the loose hairs at my temple. "A pup who didn't know how to handle a woman who carries a fire like yours. He tasted it and got burned, so he ran. Is that it?"

"He cheated because I wasn't enough," I hissed, my eyes stinging. "I'm wolfless, remember? Just a dorky Beta girl who spends too much time in the library."

Dominic’s jaw tightened, a muscle jumping in his cheek. He reached out, his calloused thumb catching my chin and forcing me to look up. "Wolfless? Is that what they told you?" His hand slid down, his fingers wrapping firmly around the back of my neck, pulling me flush against his hard, damp chest. "Look at me. Look at your body right now."

I couldn't breathe. My nipples were hard, straining against the thin fabric of my tank top. My core was already aching, a dull, pulsing heat spreading through my thighs.

"You’re dripping for me, Harper. I can scent it. It’s sweet, like jasmine and desperation."

"Dom, stop. You're my best friend’s father. This is"

"Irrelevant." He cut me off, his voice dropping into a primal register that made my knees buckle. "I’ve watched you grow up. I’ve watched you hide behind books and boys who didn't deserve to breathe your air. But tonight? Tonight you’re in my house. My territory."

He gripped my waist, his large hands nearly meeting around my middle, and hoisted me up onto the counter. My legs instinctively wrapped around his hips, pulling the towel dangerously loose.

"Ohh... God," I gasped, my head falling back.

"Don't call for God, Harper. He’s not here."

His mouth crashed onto mine. It wasn't a kiss; it was a claim. He tasted like whiskey and salt. His tongue invaded, rough and demanding, and I met him with a desperation that shocked me. I tangled my fingers into his damp hair, pulling him closer, needing the weight of him to crush the ache out of me.

Dominic groaned, a low, vibrating sound that rumbled through my chest. He tore his mouth away, trailing wet, biting kisses down my throat. "I told you I was dark," he muttered against my skin, his teeth grazing my collarbone. "I told you I’d ruin you."

"Do it," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Ruin me."

He didn't need to be told twice. He reached down and ripped my thin lace panties aside with a single, violent jerk. The sound of the fabric tearing was the loudest thing in the room.

He didn't use a condom. He didn't use foreplay. He grabbed my thighs, hauling them high onto his shoulders, and drove into me with a single, devastating thrust.

"Ahh! F**k!" The scream was torn from my lungs.

He was huge. Thick and unrelenting. He filled me so completely it felt like I was being stretched apart, but the pain was immediately swallowed by a white-hot wave of pleasure.

Dominic didn't slow down. He gripped the edge of the counter and began to pound into me, his movements raw and rhythmic. Each stroke was a heavy thud, his pelvis slamming against mine with a wet, slapping sound that echoed off the high ceilings.

"Look at me," he commanded, his face contorted with a mix of agony and lust.

I opened my eyes, my vision blurred with tears. I saw the sweat dripping off his brow, the way his muscles bunched and corded with every heave of his body. He was beautiful and terrifying.

"You’re mine," he growled, his voice breaking as he increased the pace. "No more boys. Just me."

I couldn't speak. I could only moan, my fingers scratching red welts into his shoulders. The friction was becoming unbearable, a tightening coil in my belly that was seconds away from snapping. The way his cock rolled into me, hitting my cervix with every deep, punishing drive, was driving me to the brink of insanity.

"Dom... I’m... I’m gonna"

"Take it," he huffed, his breath coming in jagged gasps. "Take all of it."

He shifted positions, spinning me around so I was on my hands and knees on the cold quartz. He grabbed my hair, pulling my head back as he entered me from behind. The angle was deeper, more invasive. He pounced on me like a beast, his heavy weight pressing me down into the stone.

My eyes rolled back as he hit that perfect spot again and again. The salt of our sweat mingled, making our bodies slide against each other in a messy, frantic tangle.

"Please!" I cried out, my legs shaking so hard I could barely stay up.

He let out a guttural roar, his body tensing as he delivered three final, bone-deep thrusts. I felt him swell inside me, and then the heat hit a thick, pulsing flood of him filling me up, spilling over and running down my inner thighs.

My own climax hit a second later, a violent convulsion that left me sobbing into the countertop.

Dominic collapsed on top of me, his literal weight pinning me to the counter. He was heavy—solid, warm, and real. His breath was hot against my neck, and his heart was thudding against my back like a drum.

We stayed like that for a long time. The only sound was the hum of the refrigerator and our ragged breathing. The physical "hangover" set in almost immediately my limbs felt like lead, my skin stung where his stubble had burned me, and the internal warmth was a lingering, heavy reminder of what we’d just done.

Slowly, he pulled out. I felt the cold air hit my wet skin, making me shiver.

He didn't say he loved me. He didn't apologize. He reached for a dish towel, wiped the blood and sweat from his knuckles, and looked down at me with an expression that was chillingly calm.

"Go to bed, Harper," he said, his voice back to that cool, Alpha authority. "And delete the history on your phone. You won't be needing it anymore."