Page 45 of His Lost Lycan Luna

Does he want to kiss his rogue servant? Yet, with that thought – as crazy as it sounds – I can’t help but wonder what his lips would feel like against mine. Would the same tingling sensation burn them?

"Would you stop me, Ivy?" he asks, his lips brushing against mine as he speaks. I gulp. Could I stop him? Was I allowed? Did I want to? Why was everything so confusing? I shake my head, and he purrs, the sound slowing my heart rate like a low thrumming, calling me to him when I feel his lips press against mine. A strangled noise escapes my lips that turns to a gasp as he pulls me closer.

His tongue brushes over my bottom lip before I feel his thumb press on my chin, forcing my mouth to open slightly. My lips burn and tingle, and I don’t think the sensation can get stronger when his tongue suddenly slips between them, brushing against mine. I have never kissed anyone in my life before; never even come close.

He groans, crushing me against his chest, and his grip tightens on my hair. His tongue brushes mine again, and a moan escapes me at the taste of him before I kiss him back, loving the taste and the feel of him holding me. The King deepens the kiss, his tongue leaving no part of my mouth untouched.

Eventually, I pull back from him, feeling lightheaded and needing air, and he lets me, pecking my lips softly. He doesn't let me pull away though; instead, he pulls me down and presses my head against his shoulder.

I inhale his scent, feeling confused while breathing the smell of him in. He turns his face toward mine and kisses me below my eye.

"So, will you come with me tomorrow, or should I organize Abbie? But I promise I have no ill intentions with you, Ivy."

"Yes, My King," I answer, feeling weird that I just kissed a man. No, not a man… the Lycan King!

"For God’s sake, woman, call me Kyson! Just say it once, please," he says, pulling away to look at me. I peek at his waiting face. "Say my name, Ivy," he demands.

I chew my lip, and his eyes dart to them before he brushes my face with his nose and purrs. Closing my eyes, I suck in a shaky breath.

"Kyson," I whisper.

"Say it again," he murmurs, and I shake my head against his shoulder, and he growls. A squeak escapes my lips as he moves, trapping me beneath him again. My heart beats frantically, and he purrs loudly, rubbing his chest against mine and burying his face in my neck. I feel his tongue run over my exposed skin before his lips press below my ear.

"Say it again.”

My voice shakes as I stammer his name out like I have any right to mutter it. "Kyson."

He growls, but the noise is more playful when he presses his lips against mine again, only harder while his hand moves to my hair, tilting my head up. He once again steals my breath, kissing me deeply. His hands tug at the strands, sending shivers down my spine when he breaks it, pulls away, and peers down at me.

"Good girl," he purrs. "My girl," he murmurs then smiles as he leans in softly pecking them again.

"You call me Kyson. Not King, not Sir, not Lord, or any other term you can conjure up – only my name from now on."

"But-"

"I don't care where we are. You are to call me Kyson. Am I clear?"

I nod, staring at his neck.

He kisses my forehead. "We should sleep. We must be up in a couple of hours," he says, rolling off me.

He tugs the blanket back and climbs under them before patting the spot beside him. When I don’t move, he rolls his eyes, grabs my legs, hauls me over to him, and tugs the blanket up.

The King then slides his arm under my pillow, bringing my back flush against his chest. He places his other arm around me before kissing my shoulder.

"Sleep, Ivy," he whispers, and I sigh but close my eyes, wondering how long this behavior of his will last before he realizes what a mistake he’s making and kicks me out. But for now, I will sleep.

ChapterTwenty-Eight

IVY

Gentle hands move across my skin; tingles rush over me, and the warmth of the King's chest spreads across my back. Opening my eyes, I can see light filtering into the room, but not much. It must be early morning. The sun is just rising and chasing the shadows in the room away.

His wandering hand is now beneath the shirt I’m wearing as he caresses my skin. The King’s touch reminds me of last night, and I feel the blood rush to my face at the memory.

His purr is deep, resonating from the center of his chest and vibrating against my back as his light touch moves higher. Kyson moves behind me, and I roll onto my back beside him to find him propped up on one elbow, staring down at me.

He smiles that breathtaking smile, leaning his face toward mine as he speaks. "Morning," he growls before I can reply. His lips are capturing mine.

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