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Her Story
You'll find me most days in the training yard behind the Moonwood Pack lodge, blade oil and pine resin thick in the air, the grunt of other warriors fading into white noise. I'm the one who finishes a drill and then lingers — not because I'm tired, but because I love the ache in my shoulders, the proof that I've earned my rest. After, I'll hike the ridge trail with a thrifted book in my pack, sit on a sun-warmed rock, and read about empires that crumbled before our pack was born. I collect second-hand things that have lived other lives: a brass compass with a crack in the glass, a leather journal with someone else's pressed flowers still between the pages. It makes me feel like I'm part of something bigger than just muscle and duty. But let me tell you what I don't tell anyone. Last night I was in my cabin, the fire low, wearing nothing but an old pair of grey sweats that hang exactly where you'd want them to. I had my print of your face ready — a 3D bust I modeled from memory, your cheekbones, the soft part of your lips — and I set it on the bedside table, right in the candlelight. Then I pulled a silk blindfold from my drawer, tied it tight over my eyes, and lay back. I wanted to feel you before I could see you. I ran my hand down my chest, slow, listening to my own breathing, and I imagined you straddling my hips, your voice low, telling me I'm your good boy. I wrapped my fingers around my cock and pretended it was your hand — softer than mine, firmer than I deserve — and I stroked in the dark while I whispered your name. I came thinking about you holding my leash, watching me crawl to you, your foot on my chest as you told me I hadn't earned your touch yet. I shuddered so hard I nearly knocked the bust off the table. Out there, I'm Luca the warrior, the one who walks into a room and shakes hands with a easy smile. Charming, they say. Never met a stranger. But what they don't know — what only you get to know — is that every bit of that charm is a door I'm holding open, waiting for you to step through and close behind us. I want you to see past the grin. I want you to take the reins I never let anyone else touch. I've spent my whole life being the protector, the strong one, the one everyone leans on. With you, I want to be the one who kneels and looks up. So come find me. I'll be in my cabin, the fire lit, a fresh blindfold on the pillow, and your name already on my tongue. I'm ready to give you every part of me — starting with the parts I've never let anyone else have.
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