Page 88 of His Lost Lycan Luna

I rasp when my finger meets the tight resistance of her asshole as I shove my finger in. She bucked, but I sucked on her clit harder as I worked my finger inside her, her body relaxing and her muscles easing as I fuck her ass with my finger.

Ivy moans and writhes as I tasted every part of her before working another finger into her. Stretching her tight hole while lapping at the juices as they spilled out of her. She pushes against my face, rocking her hips in ecstasy against my mouth and fingers before she screams and exploding on my tongue.

I lick up her juices, gently sliding my fingers from her as she moans, my tongue slowing as she rides out her orgasm. Her sweet nectar coats my lips and tongue when she collapses on her stomach on the bed. I chuckle, grabbing her ass after I stand up.

Her face is flushed, and her eyes heavy. I lean over the top of her and kiss her shoulder. The touch of my lips to her skin sends a shiver down her spine, and I can feel her body gradually relaxing beneath me. Standing up, I step into the bathroom and wash my hands. The sound of water running echoes through the room, a soothing counterpoint to the intensity of our passion.

When I come out, she has fallen back asleep, and I sit on the bed, tucking her body against mine, and finally, I too am able to settle down enough to fall asleep for the first time in two days. As I lay there, her soft breaths against my chest and the gentle rise and fall of her body lulling me into slumber, I realize we have forged a connection that could never be broken.

ChapterFifty-Three

IVY

The sunlight filters through the cracks in the heavy drapes, casting a golden glow on the ornate ceiling above us. The scent of Kyson’s aftershave still lingers in the air, a mix of cedar and sandalwood that has become a comforting reminder of his presence. The sheets beneath us are soft, a gentle caress against my skin. I can hear the faint rustling of leaves outside the window and the morning birds.

As Kyson begins to stir, the muscles in his arms flex beneath my fingers. The hardness of his body is evident even at rest. Seeing his muscular body brings a feeling of security and warmth, and I can’t help but snuggle closer to him. He inhales deeply, his chest rising and falling with each breath, and I can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear.

Relief floods me seeing him sleeping for the first time in days. This is the first time I’ve woken up to him asleep. I was beginning to wonder if not sleeping was a Lycan thing or a Kyson thing.

My body feels heavy with his leg draped over my hip and mine tucked between his legs. I run my fingers through his chest hair.

I trace one of my bite marks on his chest before pressing my lips together. My teeth ache, and my gums tingle with the need to bite him, claim him, and I try to stamp it down, though it is making me twitchy.

I hope it settles down because I don’t think I can live with the crazy urges I keep having. Kyson explained that it was the hormones, but it only happened near him. I hadn’t bitten anyone else, only him.

Clarice said she-wolves tended to bite those they felt safest with, those with stronger auras. Which, in turn, makes sense. We are primal, possessive creatures; biting is a form of marking, but I don’t get that urge around Beta Damian, despite his relatively strong aura.

Lost in my thoughts, I am entirely unaware I am even licking him until he chuckles, pulling me from the mind bubble I locked myself in. Oh no, I woke him. That wasn’t my intention. Sitting up slightly, I place two fingers on his opening eyes and try to close them, making him laugh when he grabs my hand and kisses it before putting it on his chest.

“Morning,” he mumbles, tugging me closer. I clench my jaw, unable to reply now that I have stopped licking him. I want to climb on him, soak up his scent, and bite him.

The urges are driving me insane, and I try to roll away when he removes his leg from over my waist and grips my thigh, hauling me on top of him.

“I have told you you aren’t hurting me, so stop fighting it.”

I shake my head, unable to trust, opening my mouth in case I bite him like a damn cannibal.

“Maybe I should hold off,” Kyson murmurs to himself, and I look at him. I want to ask what he means, but I can’t right now, as I’m fighting a battle with my mind and body. The King grips the back of my head, pressing my face into his neck. I try to push him away, earning a growl from him.

“I am supposed to leave today for the night. I will be back tomorrow, but now I worry I shouldn’t leave you while you’re like this, especially when you’re fighting it. I’m worried you will fret,” he says.

I try to process his words, and when I’m unable to control myself any longer, I sink my teeth into his chest once more. He groans, and tears burn my eyes as his blood floods into my mouth. I hate this, hate it, hate the damn urges overriding every part of me.

“You’re not hurting me, love. I promise,” he whispers, kissing my face as I try to stop myself. I shake my head.

The King grips my hips, dragging me down his body as I sink my teeth in once again. My nails dig into his skin as I grab him when he rolls my hips against him, and I stop and moan before biting his arm. His cock twitches against my pussy, and I freeze. He turns his face toward my ear.

“See, you’re not hurting me, just making me aroused,” he whispers, rolling my hips against him again. His cock slides between my wet folds, and I moan at the friction he is creating.

My teeth leave his skin, but only briefly as I kiss him. My tongue invades his mouth, and he chuckles as I maul him before kissing me back.

He lets me touch and claw at him until the urges dissipate. The King then rolls, forcing me onto my back and climbing between my legs. His hard length presses against my slit, and I move my hips against him, coating his length with my desire. The King groans and presses his hips against mine.

My walls clench, wanting to feel him buried deep within my confines, wanting to feel him move inside me. The King clenches his jaw, and I kiss him. Tugging his face down to mine, he grabs my thigh, hoisting it up and wrapping it around his waist; I grind my hips against him, uncaring, just wanting him closer.

“Ivy?” he groans, and my name leaving his lips like that makes my walls clench. I tug on his hip, and he pushes up on his arms, looking down at me.

He knows what I want, but he also wants me to ask or probably beg. I growl at him and bite his bicep, tugging him back down to me.

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