Page 81 of His Lost Lycan Luna

"Place them back," he orders, and my hands move back to his chest. He undoes the buttons on my jeans while his lips trail down my neck so slowly that my hands shake with my desire to touch him.

His hands grip the waistband of my pants, and he tugs them down before slamming me down on the spacious leather seat; he tugs them all the way off, and before I can sit up, his mouth is on me, his hot tongue swiping between my folds to my clit.

His hands skim over my thighs, teasing me more and more with each stroke of his tongue. The flicks of his tongue become harder and faster until I can no longer contain the pleasure radiating through me.

The fabric of the leather seats, the friction of stubble against my thighs, and his fiery tongue have my senses in overdrive when I feel the warmth spread through me, stealing my breath as waves of ecstasy ripple through me, so powerful that it makes everything else disappear but him.

I gasp for breath, pushing my fingers through his hair as he looks up at me with a sly grin on his face while setting off such a blissful calm throughout my entire being. My body turns languid, and I would be content never to move again with how relaxed I feel. He pulls me back on his lap, and I am a rag doll, limp in his arms as he tucks the blanket around my naked form.

"Now try to sleep," he purrs, nibbling on my lip when I yawn, fighting sleep.

The King hardly speaks on the way home, and we only stop for fuel, driving through the night. We reach home the following day, and Abbie is waiting out the front for the luggage. I bounce in my seat excitedly, wanting to go see her as we pull up.

The King rolls his eyes when I reach for the seatbelt.

"Go on, I have a few things to do, anyway," the King says, and I rush to open the door.

“Ah, Ivy…” he speaks, and I glance back at him. His eyes trail the length of me.

“You’re still naked,” he chuckles, and I glance down. My eyes widen, and I rush to snatch my clothes off the floor while the King puts his ruined shirt on, and groans. “Your senses are growing stronger. At this rate, I will run out of clothes,” he tells me, and I slip my shirt on. I giggle, watching as he climbs out of the car. A few seconds later, I step out after him.

"Remain with Ivy," I hear him tell the guard that usually followed me everywhere before he walks off, clearly distracted by something. He nods, and I rush to Abbie's side. She embraces me and helps me carry the luggage to the laundry room. As we enter, I spot Clarice.

Clarice smiles warmly at me, while Abbie gushes excitedly after telling her the King wanted to claim me once I shifted on my birthday. Seeing her excitement put me more at ease. I reach for a tunic on the shelf when Clarice clears her throat.

"Ivy, the King has told me you are no longer his servant."

"But I want to help Abbie with her chores," I tell her. Clarice looks at my guard, who also doesn’t know what to say and only frowns.

"I'm sorry, Ivy, but unless the King allows it, I can't let you put on that uniform. Those here would treat you like a servant in that uniform, and I don't want any staff killed for that mistake," Clarice explains. I look at Abbie, and my shoulders sag.

"It's fine; I can just wear this, I guess; I will speak with the King later," I tell her. Clarice glances at my guard, who shrugs, and Clarice sighs.

"Very well, but you make sure you tell the King you wanted to help. I don't want to be scolded for making you work," Clarice states.

"But what else is there to do if not work?" I ask her.

"Live," Clarice answers, squeezing my shoulder gently.

For hours, I follow and help Abbie. However, once evening comes, the guard steps away from the wall where he stood watching us.

"Ivy, the King, is looking for you; he wants you back to your chambers," he says. I press my lips together, wanting to spend time with Abbie, but she shoos me away.

ChapterForty-Eight

ABBIE

For two days, Ivy was gone, and when Clarice finally tells me she’s on her way back, I remain by the front door for over an hour. I need to make sure she’s okay. I am excitedly bursting at the seams when I see the limo pull in. The King says something to Ivy before she rushes over and hugs me. I squeeze her tight, relieved she is okay.

Grabbing their luggage, Ivy helps me haul it to the laundry room. "Abbie, I have something to tell you," Ivy says, nudging me as we walk down the corridor. She has a guard following closely behind her.

As Ivy and I walk down the corridor, I can't help but notice the delicate patterns on the wallpaper. The intricate designs lend an air of sophistication and elegance to our surroundings. The sound of our footsteps is softened by the plush carpet beneath us, and the warm glow of the sconces on the walls casts a welcoming light.

"What?" I ask, glancing nervously at her. The excitement in her eyes is contagious. Her cheeks are flushed with a rosy hue. I see her lips tug up in the corners slightly before she leans into me. "The King wants me to be his mate," she whispers, and I stop dead in my tracks.

I take a moment to absorb the news, my heart pounding in my chest like a wild animal, desperate to break free. "Mate, as in his mate, he wants to make you his Queen?" I ask, my voice trembling with emotion. I blink back tears that threaten to spill over, a mixture of joy and disbelief clouding my vision.

"Means we will be free, we won't have to go back, Abbie, we can stay here for good," she tells me, her voice full of hope. As Ivy whispers the news of the King's proposal, a myriad of emotions wash over me. Surprise, joy, and an overwhelming sense of relief mingle together, creating a tidal wave that threatens to engulf me. The tears that brim in my eyes seem to shimmer in the warm, golden light that bathes the hallway, casting long, dancing shadows on the walls.

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