Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals!

Chapter 127: 127. Sun Bathing

Maisie

The low lights scattered and reflected the red of my bikini into the clear water as I waded in the pool.

It was one of those nights I was obligated to fulfill my part of the contract. I had to share a bed with one of them. I knew whoever I chose didn’t matter and they wouldn’t force me into having sex with them, but I didn’t trust my own body enough to lie in bed with one of them and pretend I wasn’t yearning to close the distance. Not after today.

It had been a good day. A wonderful get away, if I was willing to admit.

A ploy, really, to get my defenses lowered, and damn them, it was working.

They had fed me. Bullied me into getting on the beach with them and I’d refused to get in the water, after recalling the last time I’d been in a body of water with them.

In retaliation, Soren dunked me.

Mrs. Chastain had whacked him in the back of the head with her slipper, and pulled me out, handing me a towel. Then she thrusted the sunscreen into Soren’s hands with an irritated, "Rub it in gently, boy, or it’ll be the table knocking into your head next."

If that was meant to be some form of punishment, Violette completely missed the mark.

Soren’s fingers had been warm as they slid across my shoulders, down my spine, across the small of my back. He took his gentle time spreading it along my arms, and my skin tingled, flushed, tightened and heated with every deliberately intimate stroke of his fingers.

And then he dropped to one knee in front of me, traveling his hands over the expanse of my legs, up my thighs. Gentle. Intimate. Far too intimate as he dragged his thumb over the inside of my thigh.

"I-I can handle that myself," I had stuttered breathlessly, squirming, as he knelt behind my thighs, hands underneath the curve of my ass.

My nipples tightened as I felt the rough drag of his palms along my ass cheek, the touch hot yet clinical and efficient as his voice dropped into a low octave that went all the way to my toes, "Hold still, Adams. Just a little further."

By the time he finished, the aching wetness between my legs had nothing to do with the water.

I spent the next couple of hours tanning beneath the sun with Violette, pretending under the sunglasses that I wasn’t watching them swim.

I tried not to.

But everyone was watching them. Women sighed wistfully, young and old, as their bodies sliced through the waves, water streaming down deliciously carved muscles and broads shoulders. And then, Mercer had glided his fingers through wet hair, pushing it back from his face and I heard a female moan from the back.

"Mon Dieu. Do you think they take turns, or is it more of an all-at-once situation?"

And as if it weren’t enough, four women trudged forward from the crowd, "one for each man", I heard them say as they pushed up their bras and adjusted their thongs to make their asses look more inviting.

And they pushed up on the sides of the Lycans, batting their pretty lashes at them as they pushed the sun screen into their hands. "Oh, I can’t reach behind me. Could you help me, sir?" they said, all the while twirling locks of their hair around their fingers.

I was perfectly fine.

Didn’t feel a single thing—

A snarl erupted from my lips the moment the girl in the yellow bikini pressed the bare swell of her breasts against Jericho’s bare chest.

And all four of the women jumped, eyes wide as they noticed me. I hadn’t even realized I was moving until then. It was a strange out of body experience. One moment, I was laid out on the bench beside Violette and the next, I was grabbing Jericho’s arm like a stupid, jealous heathen. "This one’s mine."

I ignored Jericho’s highly arched brow when she tossed me an irritated look, shuffling over to Quinlan, who was grinning like he’d won a lottery.

Another growl tore out of me. "They’re. All. Mine."

Perhaps it was the snarl attached to each word. But the women turned pale, detaching from the Lycans and the smell of their fear as they hurried away was enough to set my head back on straight.

"What a crazy bitch," I heard one of them say.

Jericho had tossed me a knowing look then, looking disgustingly hot with his pale hair sticking to his skin. "Feeling okay, malyshka?"

"I’m perfectly fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine?" I snapped.

He glanced down pointedly. "You’re crushing my arm."

I glanced down. My fingers were clutching him tightly. I let go of his arm abruptly, stumbling back, confused and annoyed at myself.

That stupid smile on his face spread wider and it hit me in the gut, just how handsome he looked today. "I don’t mind—"

"Piss off," was my response and I snatched my towel off the back of the stretcher and stormed off into the house.

I had heard them laughing at me the entire way back.

The bonfire afterward had somehow been worse.

Violette had insisted on making s’mores, which meant sitting together around the fire, a blanket over my shoulders like a family. It should’ve been a soft, warm moment.

I mean, it was, until I noticed them watching the way my lips closed around my fingers, sucking off the sticky sweetness, the way their eyes darkened when I licked melted chocolate from my fingers. Quinlan’s parents hardly noticed, lost in their own world, that the air had suddenly taken a hike and was crackling with tension and hunger.

When I got the courage to excuse myself, my legs had been trembling. Mercer walked me back to the house, our arms touching, and I felt sparks run up my arm every time our fingers brushed. So close to holding hands, yet not.

My cheeks had been hot the entire time.

And when I reached the front porch and twisted the door knob, his hand flattened against the door, shutting it. I froze as his large body pressed against my back, placing me between the door and a very, very hard place.

His breath was hot against my ear. "You have to choose tonight, wildcat."