Page 33 of His Lost Lycan Luna

"Which one were you looking at?" he asks, and I glance at him. His eyes scan the bookcase, and I chew my lip nervously. His eyes dart to my lips, and I stop. Instead, I look down at my hands. Will he punish me for touching them? I was told to be careful around his books.

Mrs. Daley would have beaten me bloody if I touched anything of hers. Rogues were supposed to mind their place. Here, I sometimes forget that I’m nothing but a rogue on whom the King took pity. I still don't understand why he didn't cast us out or kill us.

"Pass it to me," he says, holding his hand out for the book. I look at the shelf and reach for the book but pause. What if it's a trick?

"Pass me the book, Ivy. You know I don't like repeating myself," he says softly, yet his voice is still firm. I nod and reach for the book with the golden letters, pulling it from the shelf and quickly handing it to him.

"Ah,Treasure Island," he says, reading the title. I wasn't sure what it said. I just liked the inscription on the side.

"Can you read?" he asks.

"No, sir," I answer honestly.

"Come here."

I look down at my hands, feeling nervous in his presence, though he has never hurt either of us. However, I know he can do it if he sees fit. He clicks his tongue, sitting up a bit more.

"Ivy, don't shy away from me now," he says, holding his hand out to me. Staring at his outstretched hand, I move hesitantly, walking toward him.

I always feel funny around this man. Being a rogue, I shouldn't even be in his presence, let alone allowed to talk to him. Touching him should be out of the question.

"Do you want me to command you?" he asks, and I look at his face to find him smiling. His smile is breathtaking, his silver eyes sparkling back at me.

Chewing my lip, I shake my head, walking over to him. When I am close enough, he reaches out and grabs my wrist. Then, he does something he definitely shouldn’t… but then again, he has done plenty he shouldn't have done with his rogue servant already.

He pulls me onto his lap. I sit awkwardly and move, trying to climb off him. "My King," I exclaim when he holds me against him.

"Kyson. I hate that you keep calling me ‘My King,'" he tells me.

"But you are, and I shouldn't be sitting on your lap," I tell him as I try to hop off, but his hand on my stomach pulls me back against him.

"That is enough, Ivy. You'll remain where you are. No one can see you. It is just you and me here."

"Yes, but, My King," I protest when he grabs my chin between his fingers and tilts my face toward his. Sparks rush over my skin, and I forget how to breathe, holding my breath at the sensation coursing through me.

"Kyson. You can call me, Kyson," he tells me again, his face so close that his breath fans my lips. I suddenly feel light-headed, and he brushes his thumb across my bottom lip, tugging it down slightly.

His eyes are mesmerizing, glowing brightly as they dart to my lips briefly before flicking back to mine. His scent is overwhelming and masculine, making me want to breathe in deeply to savor it. Yet somehow, I’ve forgotten how to breathe with his face so close to mine. His full lips move, and it takes me a second to register his words.

"Breathe, Ivy. I don't want you to pass out on me," he says, swallowing. His eyes are still on my lips. I let out a breath, and his lips tugged at the corners of his mouth before letting me go.

"Do you want me to read it to you?" he asks.

"No, I couldn't ask that. I am sure you are too busy,” I say, straightening my spine.

"That's not what I asked Ivy. Calm down." He lifts his hand, placing it between my breasts. "Your heart is racing. How many times do I have to tell you I won't hurt you?" he asks, shaking his head. He abruptly moves, turns me on his lap, and pulls my legs up over his.

ChapterTwenty-Two

IVY

The King pats his chest. This man was absurd to have his servant lying on him. He pats his chest again. He wasn't serious! Was he? If anyone walked in, I would be whipped for days if I was caught in this position.

"Ivy," he speaks one word, yet the warning in it makes me do as he wants, and I settle against him. He tugs my head down on his chest, and I can hear his heart's slow, steady rhythm beneath my ear. King Kyson grabs my hand, placing it in the center of his chest before he opens the book.

"Do you want me to read to you?" he asks again. I nod my head, looking at the book. "Good girl," he says, wrapping his arm around me to hold the book open with two hands.

He reads perfectly and never stutters as I used to when trying to read the books in the orphanage. I was forever trying to sound the words out when I read to the children.

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