Page 12 of The Lycan King's Captive

The current in my head flowed faster, and I could almost feel the sand under my shoulders. Cyrus stared down at me, and now waves crashed behind him as he brushed a gentle thumb over my cheek. His weight still pinned me, but he was warm like the Texas sun and his eyes were the color of the water as it rushed closer to shore.

“Just us,” he said. “We’re the only ones here.”

The heat spread, a combination of the sun and his body. He shifted a little, wedging his hips between mine. I opened for him, a lick of desire curling low in my belly.

His eyes darkened to pewter. He ran his thumb over my cheek again, then smoothed his hand down to my hip, leaving goosebumps in his wake. The sun shone behind him, it rays painting his shoulders gold.

My desire unfurled like a bloom, tendrils snaking through my body. A heavy ache settled between my legs, and my heart rate sped up.

Cyrus’s eyes went heavy-lidded as his words kept flowing. “We’re the only ones here. This place is just for us. It’s our island.”

It was. How did he know?

The heat built, but it was a good burn, and I suddenly needed more of it. My hips lifted and my lips parted as my breath came in little gasps.

“Just us,” he said, sliding inside me. He glided easily, and a groan rumbled from his chest as my sex clamped around him. Shivers coursed over my skin at the way he filled me up, stretching me so taut I had nowhere to go.

But I didn’t want to go anywhere else.

Then he started to move.

Pleasure swept me, the wave starting in my hot, swollen center and then rippling outward. He loomed above me, his face in shadow as the sun blazed hotter. The heat between my legs burned hotter, too, my hips rolling of their own accord.

He was right there with me, thrusting in a steady rhythm that rocked us both. Each pass brushed my throbbing, needy center, driving my pleasure to new heights.

“Just us.”

Just us. My world shrank to the beach and the sun and the man between my legs.

The waves crashed. Cyrus increased his pace, thrusting harder and deeper. The whole time, his gaze never left mine, the silver depths full of lust and another emotion there and gone so fast I couldn’t place it.

My orgasm gathered, and my thoughts fled. The only thing that mattered was this and now and us. Just us. I clung to his arms and went over the edge, my soft cries echoing in my ears.

He followed, shuddering as he spent inside me, flooding me in a hot rush. After a moment, he buried his face in my neck. Our hearts thundered against each other, both trapped in bone and beating wildly.

Then Roman turned off the sun.

6

CYRUS

My father once told me that good leaders know when to retreat. That sometimes you have to lose first to win later. He’d been a shitty father but a good leader.

So I hadn’t fought when Roman pulled me off the female after I’d emptied inside her. I’d smothered the urge to attack. I’d forced myself to cower. To retreat. Win now and fight later.

But now it was later, and I had to wonder if my retreat had been worth it. Because I sure as shit didn’t feel like I’d won.

I was back where I started—propped against the damp wall with my gaze on the female in the opposite cell.

Abby. Her name was Abby. Roman had said it with a slimy familiarity when he’d replaced me between her thighs. My guts had twisted when he’d leaned over her, but he’d only captured a lock of chocolate-brown hair and rubbed it between his fingers.

“You’re full of surprises, Abby,” he’d said in a voice thick with lust. “After you’ve whelped Holden’s bastard, I look forward to having you in my bed.”

She’d turned her head away, her lips clamped tight.

He laughed, which was a signal for Carl and Robertson to laugh too.

And I stayed on the fucking ground even though Roman was right there and it would have been easy to charge him—to tackle the son of a bitch to the concrete and smash the lust in his expression to pieces.

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