10 Dates with Mr. Alpha (MXM)

Chapter 10

Chapter Ten
Moonlit Surrender
——————-

The moon hung heavy above them like an omen—silver, full, sacred.

Kiel stood at the center of the secluded clearing, surrounded by ancient stones and thick forest canopy. This place was reserved for bonded wolves. Forbidden unless the ritual was to be completed.

But they weren't just any wolves.

They were fated.

Ronan emerged from the trees—barefoot, shirtless, eyes glowing gold. His wolf prowled under his skin, too close to the surface, hunger radiating off him in waves.

"You sure?" he asked, voice low, rough with restraint.

Kiel nodded. "I want it all."

Ronan didn't move for a second. Then his gaze turned feral. Possessive. He stepped forward like a predator, every movement tight with control. When he reached Kiel, he didn't touch him at first.

He breathed him in.

"You smell like mine," Ronan growled. "And it's driving me insane."

Kiel gripped his jaw. "Then take what's yours."

They crashed together—mouths colliding, teeth scraping, tongues fighting. This wasn't soft. This was release. Weeks of tension boiled over in a violent kiss that made Kiel's knees buckle.

Ronan caught him, lowering them both to the mossy ground. His hands roamed greedily—Kiel's ribs, his thighs, his spine.

Clothes were torn off—ripped, not removed. Skin met skin in a hot frenzy.

Ronan's mouth moved down Kiel's neck, licking, sucking, teasing until he reached the curve of his shoulder. He hovered there.

"This is where I bite," he whispered.

Kiel shuddered. "Do it."

Ronan bit. Deep.

Kiel cried out, back arching, as white-hot pain bloomed into something blissful. The bond snapped into place like a cord pulled tight between their souls.

And then Ronan pushed inside.

No teasing. No prep.

Just a firm hand on Kiel's hip and a single, searing thrust.

Kiel gasped, nails clawing into the earth. Ronan was thick, stretching him wide, filling him to the brim—and the bite made it worse. Or better.

The pressure. The pain. The ecstasy.

"Fuck—Ronan—"

"You feel that?" Ronan groaned against his neck. "That's your body welcoming mine."

He thrust again, deeper.

They moved together, panting, sweating, grinding.

Ronan stayed close—foreheads pressed, lips brushing, their bond blazing like fire between them.

Kiel came hard, untouched, trembling under him.

And Ronan came right after, moaning into Kiel's shoulder as he spilled deep inside him.

They didn't speak.

They just lay there, tangled, chest to chest, hearts racing.

But it wasn't over.

Not even close.

Kiel was still panting when Ronan pulled out, their mixed slick dripping down his thighs. But before the shiver faded, before his heart even slowed, Ronan grabbed him again—rougher this time.

"Not done," Ronan growled, voice feral. "I need more."

Kiel didn't answer.

He moaned—because Ronan had already flipped him onto his stomach, pushing his legs apart with one hand and dragging his tongue along the inside of his thigh with the other.

"I thought the bite would calm this," Kiel whispered.

Ronan's eyes burned. "The bite woke it up."

Then he sank his teeth into the curve of Kiel's ass—just enough to bruise, to mark. Kiel yelped, arched, and Ronan pounced.

He entered him again in one hard thrust, stretching him deeper now, slicker. Kiel cried out, clutching at the moss as Ronan began to fuck him wildly, hips snapping against him with no rhythm—just raw, primal need.

"You're mine now," Ronan growled against his ear. "Mine to ruin. Mine to fuck."

Kiel gasped, "Then ruin me."

And Ronan did.

His thrusts turned relentless. Skin slapped skin. Moans turned to cries. The ground shook beneath them, slick pooling beneath Kiel as his second orgasm hit—harder, messier, hands trembling from the force of it.

Ronan didn't stop.

Not until he came again, this time roaring into the open air, knot swelling fast, locking them together.

Kiel's eyes rolled back as he felt it—Ronan's knot stretching him, pulsing, sealing.

He wasn't just marked.

He was claimed.

And that knot?

Was just the beginning.

Ronan's knot was still buried inside Kiel, throbbing with each twitch of his cock. Their bodies were locked tight, unable to move, every pulse sending aftershocks through both of them.

But Ronan wasn't done.

He wrapped a hand around Kiel's throat—not tight, just enough to own him.

Kiel whimpered.

It was the sound that cracked Ronan.

"I want you to beg," Ronan growled, licking a stripe up Kiel's jaw. "Beg for my cock. For my knot. For my fucking control."

Kiel's breath hitched.

His thighs trembled, body flushed and sore, but his wolf howled in submission beneath the surface.

"Please," he whispered. "Claim me again."

Ronan grinned, wicked and dark.

With their bodies still locked, he rolled them over so Kiel was straddling him, impaled, stuffed full with the knot. Kiel gasped at the movement—every inch inside him pressing against something devastating.

"Ride me," Ronan commanded. "I want to see you lose control."

Kiel hesitated.

Then slowly, achingly, he began to grind down—hips circling, milking every twitch of Ronan's knot. The stretch made him cry out, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. His alpha had asked.

And his body only knew how to obey.

"Fuck, look at you," Ronan rasped, eyes glued to the sight of Kiel's flushed body bouncing on top of him. "So fucking pretty when you give in."

Kiel moaned, hands on Ronan's chest, back arched as the heat built again.

His third orgasm came in waves—legs shaking, vision white, the knot still pulsing inside him, dragging it out until he collapsed forward, lips crashing to Ronan's.

But Ronan still hadn't come.

He grabbed Kiel's hips, thrusting up from below even with the knot deep, forcing more friction, more pressure, until Kiel was a sobbing mess.

Then, with a final snarl, Ronan came again—hot and full, cock jerking inside his mate, knot swelling one more time.

They collapsed together, breathless. Sweaty. Wild.

But even now...

They weren't done.

The bond wasn't satisfied yet.

And neither were their wolves.