Page 26 of Howl for Me (Moonlight Magic Studios #1)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Cassidy

He’s changed. He’s no longer the man but the beast he keeps hidden. It’s fascinating how he can keep such a powerful thing tucked inside. It’s also a little upsetting that he feels like he has to.

Power thrums beneath every inch of him, his body massive and trembling with restraint.

Fur covers muscle so thick it dwarfs me, his claws digging into the mattress on either side of my hips.

His breath comes hot and heavy, fanning over my throat, humid and wild like he’s holding back a storm.

But his eyes… his eyes stay soft. They stay Johnny.

He nudges into the crook of my neck, nuzzling there and lets out a sound; low, strained, almost like a sob.

It shakes through him, through me, and I know in that moment this isn’t just desire.

This is need. Bone-deep and soul-wired. The way his body trembles above me with restraint has me clenching and feeling empty without him deep inside me.

The fur along his back bristles, his chest rising and falling in uneven bursts. He noses along my jaw, breath hot, voice caught somewhere between a growl and a plea.

And when he breathes in, I feel it. A whimper, raw shaky and unmistakable. It breaks me open. I sink my hands into his fur, fingers curling tight against the heat of him. He’s soft in some places, rough in others; but warm all over. He shudders at my touch, groans low like he’s coming undone.

He’s pressing against my entrance again, but this time it’s bigger, thicker.

He moves slowly, like he’s terrified of hurting me. Each inch drags against my walls, stretching me open, filling me with careful, reverent pressure. My mouth drops open, breath caught between disbelief and aching, rising heat. My hips lift on instinct, welcoming the weight of him, chasing more.

He lets out another whimper. More desperate this time.

I swear his body shakes with the effort of holding back, his claws carving deeper into the bed with each careful stroke.

But I don’t want careful. I want him. All of him.

So I dig into the fur at his waist and pull.

Hard. A sound tears out of him, half-snarl, half-moan, and then he snaps.

He slams into me with a force that knocks the breath from my lungs. And he doesn’t stop.

His thrusts are brutal, relentless, the sound of it obscene and perfect. I cry out, my body writhing beneath his, every inch of me singing with sensation. He buries his face in my throat, panting and snarling and whimpering between every thrust, like he’s been starved for this. For me.

His voice is broken now, breathless and shaking. “Fuck, you’re so tight, so perfect. I’m not going to last much longer baby.”

My head falls back against the pillow, mouth open in a silent gasp. He’s too big, too deep, but I want every inch.

My moans turn into cries, gasps, shouts, each one ripped straight from my chest. And he won’t stop watching me. Those burning eyes never leave mine, even as he snarls through clenched teeth, even as sweat drips down his furred chest. He watches me fall apart beneath him.

I come hard, clenching around him, legs shaking, vision blurred. But he keeps going, hips grinding faster, rougher. The slap of fur and skin fills the air, and I know he’s close. I can feel it.

“You’re mine,” he snarls, thrusting deeper.

“I’m yours,” I gasp. “All of me.” When I say the words, his face looks pained then, I feel it.

The knot. Thick and swollen and pushing against my entrance, trying to lock us together. My eyes fly open as he drives forward again, and the knot pushes inside with a stretch that burns and stuns and shatters me open all over again.

“Johnny—”

He growls, his body locking tight against mine. “Fuck—I’m—”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. He howls. His hips jerk against mine and I feel it, all of it, his cum spilling hot and thick inside me, pulsing in heavy waves that flood every inch of me. I clutch at his fur, panting, moaning, unable to move with his knot holding me down, holding me full.

And then his voice breaks, soft, ruined, human.

“I couldn’t stop…fuck… You feel too fucking good.”

He shudders, tongue swiping along my throat in a slow, possessive lick. “I can feel you clenching. God, you’re still milking me.”

I feel his release drip out of me around his swollen, knotted cock that still has us locked together.

He wasn’t supposed to do that. I should panic.

But I don’t because his golden eyes meet mine, and even like this, he’s still there.

Still Johnny. Still mine. And we don’t move.

We’re stuck, fused, until his knot finally begins to swell down.

We stare at each other like the world narrowed to just this, just us.

Then the clapping starts. Slow and deliberate at first, then it grows. A rising wave of sound that slams me back into reality. The crew, the cameras, the shoot. Oh god, we just…

I suck in a sharp breath and look away. We just went completely off script. I’d completely forgotten while I was lost in him. In the way he treated my body like it was something sacred. In the way he looked at me like I was everything. Now his eyes are wide with a different emotion. Panic.

He pulls out, and I flinch at the sudden loss. His release spills from me, warm and thick, slipping down my thighs as I sit there trembling, stunned, and completely undone.

“Cass,” he breathes, panic tightening his voice.

He reaches for me and helps me sit up gently, cradling me like I’m made of glass.

I’m still trying to pull myself together when Naomi sweeps in, calm and collected, slipping a robe over my shoulders.

I don’t say a word. I can’t. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, reality is slapping me across the face.

Johnny scoops me into his arms, shielding me from the world and rushing us off the set.

I bury my face in his neck, pretending the stares, the lights, the reality, isn’t clawing at me from all sides.

He brings me into his dressing room, kicks the door shut, and carries me straight into the bathroom.

His hands are trembling. Mine are too. He sets me gently on the counter, turning toward the tub and filling it with steaming water, his back tight with tension.

When he faces me again, his eyes are glassy.

“Are you okay?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

I nod. “Yeah. I think so.”

But I can barely look at him. I’m so full of questions I can’t even form yet. He steps between my knees and cups my face, kissing me deep like he needs to taste forgiveness on my tongue.

“I’m so sorry,” he says against my mouth. “I wasn’t supposed to do that. I had to stop myself from marking you. I was so focused on fighting the urge that I lost myself in you. I’m so sorry, Cass. I was hanging on by a thread, And I lost it. I’m so fucking sorry.”

I swallow, blinking back tears I didn’t realize were forming. I reach up and kiss him again.

“It’s okay,” I whisper.

“No, it’s not. You don’t understand what it means.”

I pull back just enough to meet his eyes.

“Yes, I do, Johnny.”

And we both fall quiet because we do know what it means. We just aren’t saying it. Not yet. I should be panicking. I should be terrified. He knotted me. I could get pregnant.

Pregnant.

The very life I ran from, the one I swore I’d never let myself have, swollen-bellied, living in the shadow of a man, mother to some wild-eyed child.

It’s right there, breathing down my spine.

And yet… Why does the thought of it with him not make me want to bolt?

Why doesn’t it make me sick? Why do I feel safe?

He eases me down into the tub, and I hiss at the heat until it wraps around me.

He kneels beside the edge, dipping a washcloth and running it down my thighs, gentle and careful.

He bathes me in silence. Cleans every inch of me like I’m something fragile and precious.

His hands shake, but his touch never falters.

We don’t talk. Not about what happened. Not about what might come next.

Because if we do… something real might break open between us.

And I don’t know if I’m ready for it yet.

But I want to be. God help me, I think I want all of it.

“I can only deal with one thing at a time,” I say, my voice barely above the splash of water around me. I grip the edge of the tub and stare at my knees, trying not to unravel again. “And right now, the only thing I can handle is Hector.”

Johnny doesn’t say anything at first.

I can feel his eyes on me. He’s not angry, he’s just…. worried. So worried it hurts to look at him.

“I couldn’t let myself fall for you because I was afraid of pissing him off, but now this. I didn’t think it through. All I could think of was saving you. Getting the shoot done. I had some weird tunnel vision that was my desire to help you and be with you, wrapped all in one. ”

He reaches for my hand under the water, warm fingers curling around mine like a lifeline. He leans in, and presses his forehead to mine, “It’s ok. We are ok. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have knotted you. I’ve never lost control like that before.”

I close my eyes, letting his words settle deep into my bones. He lost control for me. The thought makes something hot and fierce bloom in my chest. But the silence breaks too quickly.

A knock, soft, but it might as well be a gunshot in the quiet room.

Johnny’s whole body tenses. “Not now!”

Naomi’s voice muffled through the door comes next.

“Hector’s here. He wants to see you both.”

My stomach plummets like a stone in water. Cold panic rushes up my spine. I look at Johnny. He’s already halfway to his feet, eyes glowing gold. His mouth curls into something feral.