From Rejected Luna To Lycan Queen (Eloise and Edward) novel Chapter 59

Chapter 59 Open Your Legs Wide

ELOISE.

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But I’m helpless in front of that dominance, so while I remain on one elbow, I let my thighs fall open, exposing my black–colored panties. They’re lace and see–through and so soaked that another wave of heat covers my body when I realize he can see it.

He can see the arousal and the stickiness.

This is different from anything I’ve experienced before because he’s looking at me.

He’s looking at my wet panties and my shaking legs and my fingers that are sneaking beneath the lace. But he’s not only looking. His nostrils are flaring, too, and the veins in his hand that’s at his side appear to be more defined and masculine. The thought of that same hand on me, touching me, nearly drives me to the edge.

My nipples harden and push against my bra and shirt, making them ache, but not as much as where my fingers are heading. That’s where it hurts the most, because his eyes are there.

So I sink my fingers between my folds, using him as an anchor. And it feels different with him watching, like I’m building up an explosion, not an orgasm.

But my hand is too soft, and it’s not enough, even when I twist my clit and roll my hips.

I think it’s because he’s there and he’s watching with his jaw set in a line. Although I want him to watch me, to see me, so what’s wrong?

I can’t reach that peak, no matter how much I try, and it’s not due to my lack of arousal, because I’m so soaked that there are probably wet spots on the sheet.

“What’s wrong, ma? Having trouble?”

My fingers pause at that. The name he called me always made me wet for some kind of reason, and right now it only made me drip

more.

I became wetter, too, a lot, but that might be because he’s pushed off the wall and is stalking toward me. And it’s downright stalking, with his shoulders squared and his steps slow and measured.

And I can’t help feeling the sensation that I’m the prey who caught the attention of the big, bad wolf, but unlike in the fairy tale, I won’t be able to escape.

Damn, how beautiful he is. And it’s not only about his face that seems to be cut from solid marble or his physique that could crush me as effortlessly as he carried me. Or about his beautiful eyes. It’s about everything else. It’s about the masculinity that oozes from each of his movements. It’s about that delicious authoritativeness that I can’t get enough of

Before I can think of anything to say to make him call me “ma” again, he does something.

He gets on his knees. At the foot of the bed. In direct view of the apex of my thighs.

My hand freezes, and I don’t realize it until he motions at it.

“You can’t get yourself off?”

*1…can.”

1/4

11:45 am

ppp.

Chapter 59 Open Your Legs Wide

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“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“I do…usually.”

“Not today, apparently.” He reaches a hand to where my panties meet my hip, and I stop breathing when it makes contact. When his skin kisses mine and then drags it down my thighs.

They’re in his hands now, my lace panties that I’m thankful I chose before I went to bed.

And then they’re in his pocket. Not on the floor, not somewhere no one would care about. They’re with him.

“Oper your legs wide. Let me see.”

My fingers tremble on my folds, and I do as he tells me, parting my thighs, letting him observe how drenched I am because he’s been watching me.

He grabs my ankle and pulls. My elbow gives out, and I squeal when my back hits the mattress as he drags me to the foot of the bed. But that’s not all.

My legs are on his shoulders. They’re hanging loosely on those broad, stiff shoulders, and he’s so close that I’m intoxicated with his scent. I feel like those spices from his scent now, hot and tingly and unable to cool down, even if there was water.

“Did I say you could remove your hand from your pussy, ma?”

It’s then that I realize my hand has fallen to the side. “No.”

“No, I didn’t, and that means you put it back in and you don’t remove it until I say so.”

God. Why the hell does he sound so hot when he’s dishing out orders as if this were a war and I’m a soldier in his battalion? Because there’s something else his orders do, they make me even hotter with a chance of melting right beneath his gaze.

When I take my time to comply with his order, he grabs my hand and places it back on my core. I’m burning now, blushing something furious beneath his touch. But it doesn’t end there, because he jams my middle finger inside me.

Just like that.

As if he had the right to do that for a long time. My back arches off the bed, and bite my lower lip to keep from moaning or screaming like a whore.

But maybe that’s what I am right now.

I’m a whore in his hands, and all I want is more.

“Is this how it felt inside? With your fingers filling you?”

“There needs to be another one for them to be fingers. Now it’s just one finger,” I breathe out, trying to be as coherent as possible to not make a fool out of myself.

“The fucking talking back.” He grabs my other finger, and I’m ready for the intrusion. It’s the only way I’m able to get myself off. Two fingers and teasing my clit.”

I can’t help staring down at where his hooded eyes are focused on how he’s still holding my hand.

2/4

11:45 am Ppp.

Chapter 59 Open Your Legs Wide

But it’s not my finger that enters me. This one is thicker, harder, and makes me gasp.

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It’s inside me now, his middle finger, and it’s stroking mine that’s also in there. The friction is strange and unbearable, and so damn new that I nearly black out.

“Oh, God…”

“Is this how full it felt, baby girl?”

Stroke.

Up.

Down.

Thrust.

“Or was it less satisfying because you couldn’t feel your limp fingers?”

He squnds angry, but I can’t focus on that because there’s a fire consuming me from the inside, and it is so wild and big that I can’t breathe.

Any attempts of sucking in oxygen vanish when he slips another finger–his, not mine–into my tight channel. Both of his fingers imprison mine, and he moves the three of them in a maddening rhythm. The friction builds hard and fast and rough. I can feel it deep inside me, and I want to throw up, or maybe I want to come, because I think that’s what the shaking means.

“Or perhaps it’s full like this. So full that you want to burst.”

“Yes, oh, fuck…”

“Tsk. Language.”

“Oh, please. As if you don’t say it yourself.”

“Are you sure you want to talk back to me when I can leave you unsatisfied?”

“No, no…please…please…”

I’m almost there, I can feel it deep inside me. The more he strokes and curls his fingers, the more he spreads my inner juices over our fingers.

He pumps them in me, and I’m clenching him–us–in a choke–like hold.

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