Dirty Affairs With My Daddy's Best Friend

Velvet's POV

I stood in front of the mirror on the evening of my eighteenth birthday, smoothing down the rose-gold gown I had picked out weeks ago. My hands trembled slightly, not from fear, but from excitement—raw, breathless, consuming excitement.

Tonight was supposed to be the night.

The night I finally met my mate.

For years I had prayed to the Moon Goddess, whispered to the stars, and begged in the quiet moments of dawn. I wanted—no, needed—that connection. That bond. That certainty that someone in this world was truly meant for me.

But beneath the excitement was something colder.

Fear.

A silent terror that maybe... just maybe... I would remain unmated forever. And considering the strange stillness of my wolf all these years, the fear wasn't baseless.

I inhaled deeply to calm the wild pounding in my chest and stepped out, making my way toward the hall.

My father, Williams, had practically invited half the pack. Normally I would complain, but today the crowd meant more chances. More possibilities. More hope.

But just a few steps from the hall doors...

I smelled something.

A scent so faint yet so arresting that my steps faltered. It wrapped around me like invisible hands—deep, rich musk with a dark warmth that tugged at every nerve ending.

I swallowed, heart racing.

Whoever carried that scent wasn't just enticing.

They were calling me.

And when I saw the owner...

Everything inside me stopped.

Alpha Zavian.

Alpha of RavenHills Pack. My father's best friend. A man I had grown up seeing in fragments—brief visits, formal meetings, passing greetings.

But tonight... Tonight was like seeing him for the first time.

The black shirt he wore clung to a body carved from strength. His aura radiated dominance so naturally that the air thickened around him. He didn't command the room. The room simply adjusted to him.

My father always said Zavian was the kind of Alpha who didn't need to howl to be heard. Respect followed him like a shadow.

But I wasn't thinking about respect.

Not when his eyes lifted and locked onto mine.

Heat burst across my skin.

My mind went blank except for one shameless thought:

Goddess... he's so fucking hot.

I should have looked away. I should have reminded myself of the age difference, their friendship, the years of loyalty they shared. I should have reminded myself he was forbidden in every sense possible.

But instead, my wolf surged forward, her excitement electrifying my veins.

My father nudged his arm. "Velvet, pup, come here. You remember Zavian."

Remember?

How could I forget the man who once sent me a moonstone bracelet—my favorite gift of all time because it had been impossible to find?

Zavian's gaze swept over me, slow and assessing, and I felt it everywhere.

"Velvet," he said, his voice so deep my stomach tightened. "You've... grown."

That was all he said.

Yet the way it left his lips made my skin shiver.

"Happy birthday."

"T-thank you," I managed, praying he couldn't hear my heartbeat hammering inside my chest.

The rest of the night blurred around me. I danced with unmated males, sniffed out potential bonds, smiled through forced conversations. Every rejection from the moon goddess stabbed me a little deeper.

Yet every time my gaze drifted back to Zavian, my entire body reacted.

Heat pooled low in my stomach.

My thighs pressed together on their own.

My wolf growled, restless, needy.

He stood like a dark god—silent presence, hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed yet commanding. Every tilt of his head, every flicker of his eyes, every breath drew my attention.

Each time our eyes met, he looked away first.

By midnight, the party died down, and so did the last bits of my hope for a mate.

But my longing for Zavian?

That only grew stronger.

When the guests finally left, my father insisted he spend the night.

"Nonsense," my father said when Zavian tried to decline. "You flew all the way here. You're family."

Family.

The word pierced me.

Because nothing about what I felt for him was family.

"Velvet, take him to the guest room."

"Yes, Dad." My voice cracked, and I prayed no one noticed.

He followed behind me, his presence so overpowering my legs nearly gave out. My wolf pressed against my chest, whispering closer, closer, closer.

When we stepped into the guest room, the air shifted—charged, tense, electric. I dropped him at the door and fled like the room was on fire.

Which, in a way, it was.

I reached my room and peeled off my dress, but heat still crawled over my skin. I looked down and froze.

My panties were soaked.

Not damp.

Soaked.

Mortification and desire tangled inside me. I yanked them off and rushed to the bathroom, trying to scrub away the tension coiling inside my body.

But cold water did nothing. If anything, it made me think of him more.

After the shower, desperate for anything to cool me, I grabbed ice cream. The cold soothed my lips, but not the fire inside me.

Then Dad walked in.

"Good thing you're here. I need to handle something quickly. Make sure Zavian doesn't lack anything."

I almost choked.

Before I could protest, he was gone.

I emptied the cup, inhaled deeply, and walked toward Zavian's room, praying for strength.

But the moment I stepped inside, his scent slammed into me.

My wolf whimpered.

He wasn't in the room.

Then the bathroom door opened.

And Zavian walked out—

completely naked.

My breath vanished.

I saw everything—every cut of muscle, every line of dominance carved into his skin.

Then my eyes dropped—

His cock.

Massive.

Thick.

Veined.

Holy. Goddess.

Heat exploded through me so fast my head spun—and then everything went black.

I fainted.

"Velvet..." His deep voice rumbled as consciousness drifted back.

Before I could open my eyes, strong arms lifted me off the floor. His skin brushed mine. His scent filled me. His cock pressed against my ass through my thin silk nightdress and I almost moaned.

My nipples hardened, brushing his chest.

I wanted the moment to last forever.

When he laid me gently on the bed, I pretended to wake up drowsily.

"What happened?" I whispered, though my eyes kept betraying me and dropping to his still half-hard length.

"You fainted. Are you alright?" he asked casually—as if standing naked above me was perfectly normal.

"I'm fine."

"Good. You should return to your room. And next time," he added, picking clothes from the wardrobe, "don't enter a man's room without permission."

"But— I knocked."

"Never say you didn't," he replied, back still turned, muscles shifting beautifully.

I swallowed.

"Goodnight," I whispered, backing away slowly so I could stare at him longer.

When I reached my room, I collapsed onto my bed, burying my face in my pillow, groaning. Sleep was impossible. Every image replayed—the sway of his cock, his warm hands on my thighs, his scent flooding me.

I knew I was ruined.

Completely, utterly ruined for anyone else.

A knock sounded.

"Velvet?"

Zavian's voice.

My breath caught.

"Y-yes?"

"Your father is asleep," he said quietly. "I just wanted to say goodnight."

Before I could respond, he stepped into my room.

And sat on my bed.

His hands slid up my thighs.

I parted my legs for him—instinctively, helplessly.

Everything afterward happened too fast for thought.

Too fast for a reason.

Too fast for me to pretend I didn't want him.