Page 36 of The Lycan King's Captive

The guards in question stared at me now. Kirnan dipped his gaze. “My lord. We, uh…”

“We were practicing,” Rolf supplied. “Self-defense.”

I let the silence hang heavy in the air for a moment, partly to let them squirm a bit and partly because I didn’t trust myself to speak.

Finally, Abby came to me. She stopped just out of arm’s reach and lifted her chin, as if daring me to act. “Kirnan and Rolf were kind enough to show me how to defend myself.” She left it unsaid that I hadn’t bothered to do the same.

Which was true, of course. Instead, I’d tucked her in a room like a doll, only taking her out when I wanted to play with her. Then, when someone had threatened to take my toy, I’d stamped my mark on her.

In other words, I’d royally fucked up. Now I had to face the consequences—and they came in the form of a slender beauty who looked ready to eat me alive and then dance around my bones.

Fair enough, but I didn’t have to take my punishment in front of witnesses.

“Leave us,” I said without taking my eyes off Abby.

With rustling movements and quick footsteps, Kirnan and Rolf made a hasty exit. Garrick went too, and then it was just me and Abby—and resentment so thick I could have cut it with a knife.

“I’m pleased to see you out of your room,” I told her.

She pressed her lips together and continued giving me a stony stare.

Ah. So this wasn’t going to be easy.

I’d thought maybe putting some distance between us would help cool my lust. I should have known that was a fool’s errand. Because she looked more beautiful than ever. Her black leggings hugged her thighs, and her cream-colored sweater hung off one shoulder, exposing a pale pink bra strap. I wanted to slide it down—and keep going until I freed her luscious breasts with their pert nipples. I wanted to put my hands all over her.

And I knew it was wrong, but I wanted to see her in nothing but the mark I’d pressed into her skin. Like lycan kings of old, I wanted to strip her and tuck her in my bed. I wanted her to spread for me on command, but only because she knew how good I would make her feel.

And I would. If she gave me another chance, I would never stop making things up to her.

Her temples were damp. She’d caught her hair back in a low ponytail, and loose tendrils had escaped to frame her face. A bead of sweat trickled down her neck, tracing an alluring path I longed to follow with my tongue.

My hands twitched with the need to touch her, so I turned and walked around the room instead. “Did you learn anything useful with Kirnan and Rolf?”

She turned slowly, as if she wanted to keep me in her sights. And she took her time answering. When she did, her words were careful, like she suspected I was laying a trap with my question. “Yes. I want to be able to defend myself if I’m ever in a bad situation again.”

I stopped. “You don’t have to worry about that. You’re protected here.”

“You won’t always be able to protect me.” She hugged her arms around her waist, and she looked so vulnerable I wanted to close the distance between us and gather her in my arms. “Once I leave here,” she said, “I need to be able to look out for myself.”

Protests pushed hard against my chest. I struggled to hold them back, but then I simply couldn’t. “Do you really want to leave, Abby?”

We faced each other on the mats, our bodies reflected dozens of times in the mirrors around us. Heat arced in the space that separated us. It always did. It always would. I knew that now. There was no way to stifle the attraction between me and Abby Rowe.

“Do you want to leave me?” I asked her again. Not here. Not this place. Me. Let her go on the record saying she wanted to walk away from me.

“Yes,” she whispered, but there was a whole world of uncertainty in her voice.

Taking a risk, I moved toward her.

She stood her ground, but her pupils were dilated and her heart rate picked up. The sweet scent of her arousal teased my nose.

I didn’t stop until I was toe to toe with her. “I think you’re lying,” I said gruffly. Her breasts rose and fell as she struggled to control her breathing. I watched the firm swells for a moment before running a fingertip down the center of one stiffened nipple. It poked through her sweater like the point of a spear. “Tell me,” I said, “have you touched yourself thinking of me this week?”

She made a sound deep in her throat. Her eyes had darkened with desire, and now they glittered like the finest emeralds.

I made another stroke down her breast. “I think you have. I think you’ve spread those gorgeous thighs and plunged your fingers into your wet pussy. I think you’ve circled your aching clit, imagining it was my tongue.” Another stroke, and I lowered my voice. “I think you’re imagining it now.”

She closed her eyes. “Cyrus…”

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