Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals!

Chapter 131: 131. Nightmares III

Jericho

She was panting. She shook her head, fighting something as her eyes blinked from blue to black to red. It remained on red. Her lips were kiss swollen, chin smeared with a hint of red.

She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

Her head dripped and her full mouth pressed to the hinge of my jaw. Soft. Then harder. Her teeth scraped along the bone, and a shudder wracked through me so violent the bedframe cracked again.

"May," I started, melting like fucking butter as her tongue traced the column of my neck slowly, teasing, tasting where my pulse hammered against her lips.

If she kept doing that, I was going to fuck her through those shorts.

"Shut up," she growled against my neck and nipped my skin.

She didn’t quite sound like herself. Her voice was sultrier, huskier, and I recognized just who was at the wheel.

When she kissed me again, it was violence. Deep and thorough, her tongue sliding against mine with a patience I didn’t have, a control I’d lost the moment I’d tasted her blood. She bit my lower lip, gentler than before, but still enough to sting, and sucked it into her mouth, soothing the hurt with a stroke of her tongue that made my hips jerk forward involuntarily.

I was rutting against her like an animal, wrists jerking against her grip.

She was strong. Enough to rival us. If I tried, I could flip us over. But there was something about her stealing the reins from me that made me harder than I’d ever been in my life.

My Lycan both hated and loved it.

"Let me touch you," I gasped against her mouth as her thighs tightened around mine, her pussy pressing hard against my cock through the layers of fabric between us, and the friction made me groan.

"Take what I give you," she said cruelly, and her hands left my wrists, just so she find the remnants of my shirt and rip.

Her palms flattened on my chest, hot and small and clawed, sliding down over the ridges of my abdomen, tracing the lines of muscle like she was mapping out her territory.

"Don’t tell the others," she purred, lowering her head to lick my chest and my body jolted in response. "But you’re my favorite."

My cock jumped against her.

"For now," she giggled and kissed a hot trail down, down my chest with little bites here and there, rolling her tongue over my nipple, until I was dying to feel some of that warmth grabbing my dick.

"Want me to touch you?" she purred, her mouth close to my waistband now, the cruel little thing.

I nodded, hissing as her fangs scraped against my pelvis.

"Ask nicely." Her fingers toyed with my waistband. "And I just might."

She wanted me to beg. I saw the cruel satisfaction in her reddened gaze. She was toying with me. I could almost taste the scent of her arousal at the back of my tongue, but she was more content with watching me come apart than fucking me.

I growled. I didn’t beg.

But her hand had slipped past my waistband and fisted my cock.

Something between a groan and a whimper escaped me. Something that stripped me down to raw nerve and animal need. Her palm was cool against the fevered heat of my shaft, and though they didn’t quite fit, it was more than enough sensation to make my hips move and fuck her hand twice.

She squeezed, a little too tight, and I felt all the blood gather at the head.

"Please," I growled, and she released, her thumb sweeping over the head, smearing the bead of pre-cum that had pearled at the slit.

She began slowly, a slide of her palm and fingers that dragged from the base of my shaft to the swollen, head and back down again. She twisted at the top. Squeezed at the bottom. Found a rhythm that was nothing like what I’d do to myself.

And it was fucking destroying me.

"Feeling a little more like yourself now, are you?" she teased, the profanity in her voice sending a jolt straight to my balls.

And I was a boy again, receiving a handjob for the first time in my life. Every slight, expert shift of her fingers bringing both pain and pleasure, and it didn’t matter how long I begged for it, she wouldn’t let me come.

It felt like she was torturing me.

"Would you like to come?" she asked, batting pretty dark lashes at me.

"Yes," I snarled, reaching for her face, just so I could push my cock into that wicked mouth. "Please."

Her eyes glittered with something that was part satisfaction, part cruelty. "Roar for me then. Let them hear you. Make them jealous."

A hoarse laugh tore out of me. Of course. I’d forgotten her Lycan got off on mayhem. But I didn’t think I was up for having Soren, Quinn and Mercer trying to rip my head off by morning because of it. Sharing a bed with her on watch was a very large stretch from fucking any part of her.

I shook my head, though my hips snapped faster, chasing her strokes, fucking up into her fist. "That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, malyshka—Fuck!"

She’d taken my cock in her mouth.

I arched off the bed, a choked roar tearing from my throat, and my cock pulsed past her lips. I choked upon the release and roared again as she hollowed her cheeks, the inside of her mouth clenching around me.

Vaguely, I registered the flash of annoyance from Soren’s side of the bond. As well as Mercer’s hot jealousy. Quinn was cackling, the bastard, as I shivered and shuddered, babbling utter nonsense into the dark. Still she sucked, milking every last drop.

And when she released me, I found that my claws were fingers again, and I breathed more deeply than I had since I awoke.

I blinked up, partly confused, as she leaned over me and stroked my cheek once. "Mine," she muttered.

But that wasn’t Maisie speaking.

Just like it hadn’t been her last night.

But I did wonder as she snored softly against my chest, if I had imagined the hint of blue I caught in her gaze just now.