Page 23 of The Lycan King's Captive

I hiked her leg higher on my hip and bent so my mouth brushed her ear. “You okay?”

“God, yes,” she gasped, her sex clenching so hard I sucked in a sharp breath.

When I could talk again, I kissed her neck. “You feel so fucking good. Like a hot fist around my cock.” She moaned in response, and I began to thrust, my face buried in her neck as I moved my hips against her. I braced a forearm against the shower wall and used my other hand to pull her leg even higher, angling my thrusts so I nudged her clit with each pass.

She shivered and clutched me tighter, grinding over my shaft. We fell into a rhythm, our gasps rising along with the steam. Pleasure suffused my shaft, each thrust taking me closer to the edge. I sucked at her neck, drawing breathy moans from her as I pumped harder, my water-slick skin slapping against hers. Her breasts jiggled between us, and I dipped my head to capture one tempting pink nipple in my mouth.

“Yes!” Her cry echoed in the tiny space, and her hands tangled in my hair, urging me closer.

I swirled my tongue over the taut peak, sucking and pulling as my thrusts grew faster and more disjointed. Then my balls tightened, my orgasm hurtling closer, and I had to release her so I could brace both hands above her head as I pumped my hips.

Our gazes locked, and I knew my eyes were as light as hers, both our wolves surging to the surface. My heart raced. The pulse in her neck throbbed. Her body shook as I thrust up and up, pounding harder. Water coursed over us, the spray gone cold, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was here and now and the sound of her cries filling my ears as I sank home again and again.

“Coming,” I growled. “Coming so fucking hard.” I squeezed my hands into fists, my jaw clenched as I thrust faster. Then she was coming, her mouth open on a long, shuddering cry as her sex spasmed around my shaft.

Just as my orgasm boiled up, I pulled out and gripped my cock, shooting my release on the shower floor. For a second, I could only stand there, my cock twitching as bliss flooded every pore. But as I settled back to earth, my gaze fell on my hand with its twisting tattoos that ran up my arm to my shoulder. Some swirls laid out my lineage, telling the story of generations of Rothkilde kings. Others spelled out sacred lycan laws.

Like how lycans were forbidden to mate with werewolves.

I wanted Abby. But I couldn’t have her, and my head knew it even if my body had chosen to forget for a time. If she wasn’t already pregnant, I couldn’t risk it happening now.

She made a soft sound, and I looked up to find her gaze on my arm. Her cheeks were flushed with the aftermath of desire, but her eyes were stark as she stared at the black markings.

I eased away from her. “I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened.”

“It’s all right.” She kept her gaze lowered, her emotions concealed beneath the thick fan of her lashes. “I…asked you to.”

Every part of me wanted to gather her into my arms, but that would have been a mistake—another atop the mountain I was accumulating with her. “I found a satellite phone and called my steward.”

She looked up at last. “Steward?”

“My second in command. He’s sending help. We should be at my headquarters outside New York City within a couple of hours. You’re under my protection. I’ll keep you safe.”

Even from me.

11

ABBY

It was warm in the cabin, but I shivered as Cyrus and I waited for his “help” to arrive. He hadn’t specified what that help was going to look like.

He also hadn’t said more than a handful of words to me since he left the bathroom. He’d barely looked at me, except to hand me a bundle of clothes when I emerged in one of the threadbare towels I’d found under the sink.

Now he stood at the window with his gaze on the forest outside. His sudden reticence probably had a lot to do with the danger that still surrounded us.

But as I huddled on the sofa in a hunter’s cast-offs, I couldn’t help thinking some of his coldness was due to regret.

Or disgust. Now that I’d had time to process them, his words from earlier sank in.

“Lycans and werewolves have always fought each other.”

“My people believe werewolves are an abomination.”

The last one echoed through my brain like a broken record. In Cyrus’s mind, I was the same as Roman: undesirable. As if being turned into a monster against my will wasn’t bad enough, I now had to live my life as some kind of supernatural second-class citizen.

No wonder Cyrus clearly regretted what passed between us in the shower. He wasn’t just some superior, all-powerful lycan. He was a king.

Something inside me hardened. He wasn’t the only one having regrets. I’d been forced into his world without my consent. I wasn’t going to feel bad about ending up on the wrong side of a centuries-old battle I didn’t understand. I certainly wasn’t going to waste time on a man who regarded me as lesser. As soon as we got the hell out of this forest, I was going to carry on with my life. He’d promised to help me do just that.

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