Chosen By The Cursed Alpha King (Emilia) novel Chapter 167

LUCIEN’S POV

I woke up slowly, the way you do when everything feels too good to be real.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, soft and golden, warming the room. My body was heavy with the kind of deep, peaceful sleep I hadn’t had in years—maybe ever.

No nightmares chasing me awake. No tension coiled in my shoulders. Just… calm.

And then I felt her.

Adele.

Still wrapped around me like she belonged there. One of her legs was thrown over mine, her arm draped across my chest, her head tucked under my chin. Her breath was warm against my skin, slow and steady. Her hair was everywhere-soft strands tickling my neck, my shoulder, my face.

We had slept like mates are supposed to. Tangled. Close.

Safe.

I couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at my lips.

Goddess, she was beautiful like this. Lips slightly parted, – lashes dark against her cheeks, that little crease between her brows finally gone. She looked softer. Mine.

I didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to break this. For thefirst time in forever, I wasn’t thinking about running, or hiding, or holding back.

I was just. here. With her.

But then a thought hit me-sharp, urgent, and a little desperate.

1 needed answers. Real ones. Not just restraint and fear and waiting for some miracle.

I needed to know how to make her feel good-really good

-without risking everything.

Carefully, so carefully, I shifted. She mumbled something in her sleep, a soft little sound that went straight to my chest. I pressed a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, then the warm curve of her shoulder.

She sighed, burrowed deeper into the pillow, and pulled the blanket higher-like she was stealing all the warmth for herself.

I chuckled quietly, my heart feeling lighter than it had in years. –

I slipped out of bed, grabbed my laptop from the desk, and settled on the couch across the room. I glanced back at her she was still out, curled into the spot I’d left, looking small and perfect in the middle of the big bed.

Good. I had time.

My fingers hovered over the keys for a second. This wasridiculous. I was Lucien-beta of the entire werewolf kingdom, feared in battle, respected by warriors. jo:b:n:ib-c-o-m And here was, about to search something no one would ever believe. I typed it anyway.

“How to pleasure a woman without penetration.”

I added quickly: “but using fingers, tongue, other ways.”

Enter.

The screen filled with results. Articles. Videos.

Heat crawled up my neck, but I couldn’t look away.

Everything, I read, I pictured her.

My mouth on her throat. My hands sliding down her sides.

My fingers between her thighs, slow and careful, learning what made her gasp. My tongue tasting her, teasing her, until she couldn’t think straight. Me torturing her with a toy as she squirms beneath me.

Just imagining it-her back arching, her hands in my hair, her voice breaking on my name-made me hard. Instantly.

Painfully.

I shifted on the couch, trying to adjust myself without being obvious, even though no one was watching.

I was a virgin.No one would believe it. The big, brooding beta who could snap a man’s neck without blinking-never been inside a woman. Never let myself.

Because I was terrified.

Terrified that if I lost control, if I gave in completely, I’d hurt her. Or worse.

I couldn’t lose her. Not now. Not when she was finally letting me hold her. Not when I was finally letting myself want her.

So this-this was how I’d buy time. How I’d love her without risking her life. How I’d show her she was everything to me, even if I couldn’t give her all of me yet.

1 was so deep in it-reading, imagining, aching-that didn’t hear her move.

“What are you doing?”

Her voice-sleepy, curious, a little teasing—came from right behind me.

I slammed the laptop shut so fast it nearly flew off my lap.

“Nothing!” I shot up from the couch like ‘d been caught stealing, heart pounding.

She stood there, hair wild from sleep, one brow raised high.

I stood there, frozen, hand on the glass.

She turned under the spray, water running down her shoulders, over her breasts, down her stomach. Her eyesmet mine through the fogging glass.

A slow, wicked smile curved her lips.

“Fuck you, Lucien,” she said, voice sweet and sharp all at once.

Then she tilted her head back, let the water soak her hair, and closed her eyes-like I wasn’t even there.

groaned, low and tortured, pressing my forehead to the cool glass.

My palm flattened against it, like I could reach through and touch her.

She knew exactly what she was doing.

And goddess help me, I deserved it.

Every rejected touch. Every cold night. Every time I’d stopped when she was begging for more.

This was payback.

And it was only the beginning.

I stayed there, watching her through the steam, body on fire, heart pounding, completely at her mercy.

She washed slowly. Deliberately.

Hands sliding over her skin. Soaping her throat. Her chest.

Lower.she didn’t look at me again.

But she knew I was watching.

She knew I coutdn’t look away.

And when she finally turned off the water, wrapped a towel around herself, and stepped out-brushing past me without a word-I knew one thing for certain.

I was in deep.

And I wouldn’t survive her punishment.

Bat damn if I didn’t want every second of it.