Chapter 8- cherries

"there's no such thing as a free lunch. If you want me to save you, you'll have to pay the price. Understand?"

The man's voice was deep and magnetic, carrying a natural sense of oppression, like the howl of a wolf in the night, echoing through the valley, sending chills down her spine. The voice circled her ear, like the rhythm of the tides, slowly drawing closer, stirring the depths of her heart.

Her heart raced, her instincts telling her that this dangerous atmosphere was far beyond her control. She instinctively wanted to step back, but she hadn't realized when a large, powerful hand had already rested on the back of her neck. His fingertips seemed to sense every tremble in her, and the feeling was not just warmth, but an overwhelming pressure, as if he could devour her in an instant.

Everything before her blurred. She knew clearly in her heart that without the man in front of her right now, she would already be dead. But her soul was bound by an irresistible attraction, her heartbeat pounding wildly in her chest, as if it wanted to leap out of her body.

"Sir, thank you for saving me."

Her voice was weak, almost inaudible, but she gritted her teeth and managed to say it.

The pair of diamond-like eyes suddenly narrowed. His gaze, deep and cold, carried an undeniable provocation and amusement, like a predator enjoying the fear and unease of its prey at night.

"I... I'm willing to be your servant. I can cook, clean the rooms, and also... my major is... professional housekeeping, so I..."

Her voice was interrupted by the man's sudden, intensified touch. His thumb slid across her lips, with the irresistible force of a wolf's claw. She instinctively trembled, a layer of mist clouding her eyes, as if she had fallen into an inescapable fog.

The man chuckled softly, and the smile was like a sharp blade cutting across her fragile heart, filled with both threat and allure. His thumb gently pressed and massaged her lips, his voice low and irresistibly gentle, "Cherry lips." As he whispered, his other hand slowly slid to her waist, the force of his touch becoming more merciless with every contact.

Her breathing became rapid, her eyes wide open. Shock and panic tangled in her heart, as if she were a lamb surrounded by a pack of wolves, knowing she was about to fall into an inescapable abyss.

The man's breath grew closer, and his body radiated a wild, irresistible scent. It was a primal allure that drew her deeper into his world, making it impossible to resist.

The man in front of her seemed to be imbued with the power of moonlight. His presence was not just a physical temptation, but the conquest of her soul. He was a wolf, a born predator, endowed with innate strength and charm—and she, had no way out.

The man's gaze fixed on her, like a leopard watching its helpless prey in the darkness, unblinking, cold and sharp, filled with overwhelming power. His fingers tightened slightly, like a hunter's claws poised to sink into the prey's vulnerable flesh, and the tension in the air began to intensify.

As she tried to resist, the woman's pupils suddenly constricted, like prey sensing the predator's approach, plunging into a moment of helplessness.

With the pressure in the air rising sharply, the sound of clothes rubbing tore through the silence of the darkness, followed by a muffled groan, and then the chaos ceased. Her thoughts were consumed by a brief message: "I'm doomed!"

She quickly raised her knee, attempting to strike, but the man was as swift as a wolf king. His strong body had already anticipated her move. He darted aside, easily avoiding her counterattack, and her waist and legs immediately lost feeling. She collapsed toward the ground.

He pounced, his powerful weight pressing down on her body. The heat in the air was like flames from a wolf, his breath carrying the intense scent of musk, like the dominance of a beast in its territory. He pried open her lips with no mercy, forcefully entering a soft world no one had ever touched.

She could barely breathe, a wild, savage air hit her face. The masculine, primal scent made her heart nearly leap out of her chest. A thought flashed in her mind: This isn't human! He's a werewolf, a demon-like being.

Her eyes widened in fear, her vision blurred, the lights outside seemed to cross the sky like the legendary blood moon, casting a glow on his smile, which radiated a wild enjoyment. That smile was filled with coldness and hunger, as if savoring the last bit of pleasure from the hunt.

In that moment, the smile at the corner of the man's mouth deepened, as if relishing her fear. He inhaled her scent, greedily drinking in the sweetness like cherries, pulling her body deeper into an inescapable whirlpool. The familiar fruity taste, perhaps only the strongest in the wolf pack could savor that special sweetness.

She felt that she was no longer just a simple girl, but a prey to be hunted. She had been completely conquered by this wild charm. Her body was consumed, and the fear in her heart began to spread across every inch of her skin, her heartbeat and breath intertwining in chaos. She began to realize that this was not just a physical entanglement but a soul's predation.

The man, with absolute control, was immersed in every tremor, every subtle reaction from her. This wasn't just a physical connection, but a werewolf's unique pressure, each drop of blood responding to the call of the wolf pack under the moonlight.

He gave her no chance to breathe. The intense scent of musk hit her like the breath of a wolf pack, forcefully crashing into her nose and mouth, carrying an oppressive dominance as heavy as the heavens. It quickly pried open her shocked, delicate lips, and he forcefully invaded the soft world that had never been touched. He wrapped his lips tightly around hers, like a cherry, and as his tongue explored, he unexpectedly tasted the sweetness of cherries.

In that moment, her body and soul, filled with excitement and satisfaction, seemed to intertwine deeply with his senses, becoming his unparalleled pleasure. A low, deep sigh filled the air. The taste, like the primal instincts in his wild nature, grew more intense with every breath and movement.

The taste of cherries was even sweeter than she had imagined…

She could barely breathe, her heart filled with panic. A trace of fear flashed through her mind—had she really been devoured like prey by this beast? Her pupils dilated suddenly, and the man in front of her seemed to stand on top of her, silently pressing down like black demonic wings, burning hot as the midday sun on Sunset Island. Every inch of her skin was filled with his scent, as if her body and soul were being consumed by that demonic aroma, leaving her nowhere to escape.

His scent was sticky and smooth, carrying an omnipresent wolfishness, starting to roll inside her body as if it were burning within her. Fear slowly spread, stinging her eyes, making her realize that this was not just a physical entanglement but a control deep in her soul—a mark unique to werewolves.

Under the almost suffocating pressure, the man finally released his grip on her hand. She immediately pushed with all her strength, trying to break free, but his massive and strong body could easily overpower hers. Anger and despair intertwined as she almost frantically grabbed his slightly curled black hair and yanked it hard.

A muffled groan followed, accompanied by a sharp sound—the tearing of clothes, breaking the darkness filled with the sound of heavy breathing. A cool breeze gently passed through the room, carrying a lingering, ambiguous sense of intimacy, dancing through the floating fabric like an alluring dance in the night, casting a spell of mystery and temptation.

He coldly trapped her hand, slightly lifting himself, his eyes flashing with a dangerous coldness. "Little wildcat, this is just a punishment for your disrespect."

A brilliant blush of shame and anger appeared on her porcelain-like face. She retaliated angrily without hesitation: "Even if you saved me, you have no right to kiss me. Let go of me!" She had never imagined that her first kiss would be taken in such a way.

"Right?" He repeated her words lightly, his tone relaxed and casual, as if discussing something trivial. However, the deep turbulence in his black eyes carried an irresistible aura, easily overpowering her mind. He was a wolf, a born predator, and she, forever, was just his prey.