Chapter 5

Ryan still didn't pull out.

He held me tighter against his chest, his scorching breath blowing on the fresh bite mark at the nape of my neck.

"Don't clench up," he warned in a breathy whisper. His voice was so hoarse that it was almost breaking. "Or I'll get hard all over again."

I simply couldn't control myself.

Every slight contraction drew out more warm fluid.

Shame washed over me like a tide.

In the rearview mirror, Edward's profile remained calm.

Ryan's fingers gently traced the bite mark on the back of my neck.

It was still burning, as if seared by a hot iron.

"The mark is set," he whispered, his tone laced with cruelty bordering on satisfaction. "From now on, you carry my scent. Anyone who gets close to you will be able to smell it."

My heart raced wildly.

A werewolf's mark.

The possession of a mafia heir.

Two completely different yet equally domineering declarations had been imprinted on me simultaneously.

The car gradually leveled out.

The steep road had finally come to an end.

Edward's voice rang out. "We're here."

Only then did Ryan slowly pull out.

The moment he withdrew, I nearly collapsed.

A flood of warm liquid gushed out and trickled down my thighs.

Ryan quickly zipped up and re-tucked the blanket.

I was forced to sit up straight and press my legs together, trying to stop the flow.

But it was too late.

My panties were soaked, and there were stains on the inside of my skirt.

With every step I took, I could feel it dripping down.

The garage door slowly swung open.

Edward pulled the car inside and immediately checked the black suitcases.

Without looking back, he instructed, "You two go upstairs first. I'll be right up once I'm done with this."

Ryan clamped his hand down on my wrist firmly.

I tried to break free, but failed.

We walked into the safe house, one in front of the other.

Only a floor lamp was on in the living room, casting a dim glow.

The half-moon had risen high in the sky outside the window, its silvery light spilling onto the floor.

THUD!

Ryan closed the door and pinned me against the wall.

He didn't do anything right away. He just looked down at me. A golden gleam flashed briefly in his eyes before he forced it back.

"Stepmom, you're so fucking hot," he said, reaching out to press his hand against the inside of my thigh through my skirt.

His fingertips easily found the warm, damp wetness. "This feels incredible. Do you like it?"

I bit my lower lip, not daring to make a sound.

From upstairs came the faint sound of Edward dragging a suitcase, along with his hushed voice on the phone.

Ryan leaned down and bit my earlobe.

"Wait until he's finished and comes upstairs," he said in a hoarse, hushed voice laced with a suppressed growl. "I'll take you again. This time, no blanket and no holding back."

My breathing went haywire.

The parts of me that belonged to him were slowly seeping out, and the bite mark on the back of my neck felt hot in the moonlight.

Shame, fear, and that hint of secret anticipation—which I almost loathed in myself—churned together in my chest.

Edward's footsteps drew near the staircase.

Ryan quickly took half a step back, his expression returning to its usual cool detachment.

When Edward came downstairs, we looked like nothing more than an ordinary mother and son standing in the living room.

He glanced at us, looking weary. "Someone's coming by tomorrow morning to take over. Get some rest early tonight. Ryan, keep an eye on your stepmother. This place isn't like the city."

"Got it," Ryan replied calmly.

Edward nodded, turned around, and went back to the main bedroom.

The door closed again.

Silence returned to the living room.

Raine turned his head and looked at me.

Moonlight fell on half of his face, and his eyes were so deep that they seemed capable of swallowing me.

"Go upstairs," he said.

I stood rooted to the spot, my legs weak from his warmth and presence still lingering inside me.

I knew the real night had only just begun.