Feral Fake Mate On Ice

Micoy slammed the groupie against the wooden bench in the slightly dark locker room. The air smelled like sweat and victory. Her skirt was already hiked up, panties yanked to the side. He gripped her hips hard enough to leave marks and thrust into her deep and rough.

"F*ck, you're tight," he growled, pounding faster. "Take it all, baby. That's it… moan louder for me."

She gasped, pushing back against him. "Oh gosh, Micoy... harder! Don't stop. You're so fckng big."

He laughed low, biting her shoulder just enough to sting. "You like that? Coming in here after my win, begging for this d*ck. Say it. Tell me how bad you needed a champion to wreck you."

"Yes! I needed it so bad," she cried out, her voice echoing off the tiles. "You're an animal. F*ck me like one. Fill me up!"

Sweat dripped down his chest as he drove deeper, his knot swelling inside her. "Good girl. Scream my name when you c*m."

"Micoy! I'm… I'm cmmng!" Her walls clenched around him. He roared and spilled into her, hot and messy. When he pulled out, she dripped onto the floor. He stepped back, already bored, wiping himself with a towel.

Then he caught a new scent, rage mixed with sweet arousal. His head snapped toward the shadows.

Micoy headed to the showers, water pounding over his sore muscles. He heard the soft click of heels before he saw her. The reporter slipped in, notebook in hand, eyes sharp.

"You always barge into men's showers, Elisa?" he called out, not bothering to cover up.

She crossed her arms. "Only when the man is a walking scandal, Micoy. That leaked video from last night's game? Your eyes glowed like some beast. Claws out mid-punch. What the hell was that?"

He turned off the water and faced her, water streaming down his body. "Careful, princess. You smell scared... and wet. You came here for more than questions, didn't you?"

Elisa's cheeks flushed but she stood her ground. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm here because my boss wants the truth. You're reckless. One more slip and the league will bury you. People are calling you a freak, a danger on the ice and in the ring."

Micoy stepped closer, smirking. "And you? You think I'm a monster? Say it to my face while your heart's racing like that."

"You're an animal," she shot back. "A reckless one who doesn't care who he hurts. That poor guy you almost mauled!"

"He swung first," Micoy cut in. "I defended myself. Maybe I got a little... heated. But you reporters love twisting sh*t for clicks. What's your angle here? Digging for dirt to make your career?"

Before she could answer, the door banged open. His agent, Tony, stormed in, phone glued to his ear. "Micoy! Turn that off… wait, you're naked again? Jesus. We got problems. The league's talking suspension. Sponsors are pulling out. That video's everywhere. They want you to clean up your playboy image or you're done."

Elisa raised an eyebrow. "See? Even your own people know you're out of control."

Tony looked between them. "You. Elisa, right? From the sports desk. Perfect timing. I heard your boss wants dirt from you or you're fired? I heard whispers. How about we make a deal?"

"Deal? What kind of deal?" Elisa asked looking confused.

"Here it is, fake dating. You two will pretend to be a couple. With that, Micoy looks stable, and you get exclusive access. Win-win."

Micoy laughed. "Fake dating? With this spitfire? She'd bite my head off first."

Elisa glared. "No way. I'm not playing arm candy for your circus."

Tony held up his hands. "Think about it. Your boss fires you, Micoy gets benched. One month. But with public dating, some hand-holding, maybe a kiss for cameras. Then you both walk away richer and employed."

Micoy's eyes locked on Elisa. "What do you say, reporter? Scared of a little pretend?"

She hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Fine! But I get full access. No holding back on the interviews. And you keep your hands to yourself."

Tony grinned. "Great. I'll set up the first date details. Don't screw this up, Micoy." He left, slamming the door.

Alone again, the air crackled. Micoy moved fast, pinning Elisa against the cold wall. His hand slid up her thigh, under her skirt, fingers brushing her panties.

"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed, but her breath hitched.

"Negotiating terms," he whispered, pressing two fingers against her heat. "You want access? Then you play nice. Feel that? You're soaked already. Admit it! You've been thinking about this since you saw the video."

Elisa gasped as he pushed her panties aside and slid his fingers inside her roughly. "You… bstrd. This isn't... part of the deal."

He curled his fingers, hitting that spot that made her knees weak. "It is now. You'll smile for cameras, laugh at my jokes, and when we're alone... you'll tell me every dirty little secret you're hiding about those wolf rumors. Deal?"

She moaned, gripping his shoulders. "Faster... d*mn you. Yes, keep going."

"Look at you," he murmured, thumb circling her clt. "So proper on the outside, but dripping for the beast. Cm for me, Elisa. Right here. Seal our little arrangement."

Her body tensed, thighs shaking. "Micoy... I hate you—oh God!" She came hard, clenching around his fingers, a sharp cry escaping her lips. As soon as the waves faded, she slapped him across the face.

He stepped back, licking his fingers with a grin. "Feisty. I like that. Our first fake date tomorrow night. Wear something tight."

"You push too far," she snapped, straightening her clothes. "This is business only. Touch me again without permission and I'll expose everything."

Before he could reply, the locker room door exploded inward. A massive rival boxer, Jax, stormed in with two goons, fists raised.

"You think you own this town, wolf boy?" Jax snarled. "That last fight was my territory. Time to put you down."

Micoy shoved Elisa behind him. "Stay back. This idiot doesn't know when to quit."

Jax threw the first punch, a heavy right hook. Micoy dodged and countered with a brutal uppercut that lifted the man off his feet. "That all you got? Come on!"

The goons jumped in. One grabbed Micoy from behind. He roared, eyes flashing golden, claws extending just enough to slash across the attacker's arm. Blood sprayed.

Elisa watched, eyes wide. "Micoy! Your hands."

"Get out of here!" he yelled, slamming another guy into the lockers. His muscles bulged unnaturally, partial shift rippling under his skin. Bones cracked as he grew taller, stronger. He grabbed Jax by the throat and slammed him against the wall.

"You come into my house and start sh*t?" Micoy growled, voice deeper, more feral. "Big mistake."

Jax choked out, "What... the f*ck are you?"

"The champion," Micoy said, punching him square in the jaw. The man crumpled.

Sirens wailed in the distance. Tony rushed back in. "What the hell happened? Micoy, your eyes! Control it!"

Elisa stood frozen, breathing hard. "This... this is what you really are."

Micoy turned to her, chest heaving, claws retracting slowly. "Welcome to the deal, sweetheart. Stick around and you'll see everything."

The room fell into chaos as more people poured in. Micoy wiped blood from his lip and met her gaze. "Still in, reporter?"

She exhales, with her eyeballs wider, voice shaky but determined. "Yeah… I'm in. But God help us both."