Page 39 of The Lycan King's Captive

“Tell me,” he ordered, his eyes like mercury. His voice was firm but there was a tremor in it that told me he wasn’t quite as in control as he pretended. “Tell your king exactly what you need.”

“Your cock. Please, my lord, give me your cock. I need it so badly, my lord.”

“You wish to ride, sweetheart?”

“Yes, my lord. Please.” I arched my back, thrusting my stiff nipples closer to his face. I wasn’t above begging. In fact, I reveled in it. Because that was part of this game. This was about seeking and claiming pleasure, and both Cyrus and I understood the rules.

He freed his shaft and urged me up so he could rub the bulbous head of his cock up and down my slit. “Sit then, baby,” he growled. “Take your king’s cock.”

I sat, and we both groaned long and loud as my pussy enveloped his shaft. I didn’t stop until I’d taken him to the root. He filled me completely, invading and stretching me. I was well-prepared for him, but his girth still burned a little. After a moment, the ache faded, replaced by a wicked pleasure that spread through my body. I clenched my inner muscles around him, savoring the feeling of being completely possessed. As our gazes held, I could see the wonder I felt reflected in his eyes.

“Ride me,” he murmured, urging my hips into motion.

“Yes, my lord.” I rocked forward, and our gasps mingled between our bodies. I fell into a slow, sensual rhythm—forward and back and up and down. Over and over until we were both shivering and breathing heavy. Every plunge stroked my clit, sending wild bursts of sensation firing over my skin.

“Abby,” he rasped in a voice full of awe. He gripped my hips with tight fingers and bent his head, seizing one of my nipples between his teeth. He sucked it into his mouth, switching between languid licks and sharp little tugs that made me moan.

Through it all, I rode his dick, bouncing and grinding until the world disappeared and we were the only two people left. My orgasm caught me by surprise, slamming into me like a hurricane. I mashed myself down on his dick and ground my pussy against his shaft until my clit buzzed with pleasure so intense I screamed.

“Yes,” he grunted, patient while I came in a series of low, plaintive moans. When I was still shivering from aftershocks, he took his own pleasure. He gripped my hips tightly and thrust up and up, pounding me from the bottom. My tits jiggled furiously. My skin slapped his.

At last, he threw his head back and shouted. His dick pulsed, and his release flooded me with heat.

When it was over, a great lassitude swept me. I couldn’t even think about moving, so I leaned forward and lay my head on his shoulder. His big arms came around me, and he exhaled into my hair.

For the first time in a long time, I felt like I belonged.

Because he felt like home.

19

ABBY

When I woke the next morning, I stared at a ceiling that was both familiar and unfamiliar. Then it hit me: I was in Cyrus’s bed.

Naked in Cyrus’s bed.

Alone.

I rolled to my side and found a note scrawled in masculine handwriting that could only be his.

Sleep in. I have meetings this morning but I’ll be back in time for lunch…and anything else you might want to do.

Heat entered my cheeks. I’d been uninhibited last night—to say the least. I’d also been half conscious when he carried me to his bed and then returned with a warm cloth. He’d tended to me and then crawled in bed and tucked me against him.

I’d slept better than I had in a long time.

Rolling onto my back, I stretched my arms over my head, feeling a sweet ache between my thighs. He might have marked my neck before, but last night he’d left an entirely different kind of mark. I was going to feel him all day.

And I was…okay with that. More than okay, actually. Cyrus and I had turned over a new page. I wasn’t sure what the next chapter of our lives looked like, but I wasn’t afraid to move forward anymore.

More importantly, I knew I couldn’t stay in the holding pattern I’d been clinging to. My life had changed the moment Roman bit me. Cyrus had tried telling me things could never been the same, but I’d been too stubborn to listen.

My dad’s voice entered my thoughts. “Everything changes, Abby. You can either fight it or adapt.”

I had to adapt. With Cyrus at my side, it wasn’t going to be a hardship. I wasn’t kidding myself that everything was perfect now—or that I wouldn’t face prejudice from his people—but I felt capable of tackling whatever challenges my life threw at me. At us.

I slid from the bed and spied my crumpled dress on the ground. It was my only clothing in the room, which meant I was going to have to do a walk of shame back to my suite. For a second, I contemplated borrowing something of Cyrus’s but decided parading around in his clothes wouldn’t be much better.

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