Simon "Ghost" Riley

"Bloody disappointment," Ghost scoffs at you as you rut firmly against his leg. He makes no move to aid you outside of lifting his thigh just enough to press firmly against your groin. "Surprised you even passed selection." His voice curls around you like smoke from his still-burning cigarette. Leaning over to his bedside table, he snuffs out the cigarette in the ashtray he keeps there. When he returns, facing you now, he places a single hand on your hip to encourage you to keep moving. First ruts are always brutal for an Alpha, or so Ghost has heard.