Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals! novel Chapter 170

Chapter 170: 170. The Ride Back Home III

Maisie

I climbed. That was the only word for it.

One knee on either side of his head, my hands finding purchase on the seatback, the cool kiss of the air conditioning against the bare skin of my inner thighs. "You’re insane," I breathed.

"I’m efficient. There’s a difference."

The car took another gentle curve, and lurch pressed me an inch forward, an inch closer to Jericho’s waiting mouth. Heat and anticipation entwined. The electric knowledge of what was about to happen and where it was about to happen.

I felt like a sinner who needed to repent.

Maybe after this.

Definitely after this.

"May." Jericho’s voice had dropped into a register that singed my skin. "Stop thinking."

I lowered myself.

The first contact was barely any contact at all. Jericho’s warm breath moved across me and I inhaled sharply. Then his tongue found my folds lightly, tracing the shape of me without entering, mapping territory he already knew by heart.

"Jericho."

"Mm?"

The vibration of that single syllable traveled through me like a current. My fingers tightened on the seatback.

He took his time. His tongue painted slow strokes along my seam, spreading the wetness, finding the places where I was most sensitive, still sore. When he brushed my clit, it was an accident but it sent a spike of sensation through the ache and straight up my spine.

My hips jerked. His hands caught me, one on each thigh, steadying.

"Easy," he murmured against me. "I’ve got you."

The car rolled to a stop at a light and beyond the tinted glass were cars, but my world had shrunk to this backseat and the man underneath me.

Jericho’s tongue found my entrance and circled, and my hips tilted forward, giving him better access, and I received a low groan of approval in response.

His tongue pressed inside. Shallow at first, testing. My breath stuttered. I felt the brief soreness, but--

"Oh," I thought out loud at the warm, tingling sensation that felt strangely like healing. But I barely had a second to dwell on that before Jericho’s gentle probing changed. He moved inside me with short, soft strokes that made my thighs begin to tremble.

"I need—" I didn’t finish. Couldn’t.

Jericho pulled back. His lips found my clit instead. He sucked gently, once, twice, and then released me with a soft sound that was obscene and tender at the same time.

"What do you need?"

"More."

"More what?"

"I don’t know. Just... more."

His tongue returned to my entrance and this time he went deeper, curling upward on the withdrawal in a way that made me see stars. The rhythm he established was merciless, never fast enough to let me climb, never slow enough to let me come down. He was building something inside me, brick by brick, and every brick was placed with the exact such care, my eyes had begun to water from the pleasure and frustration.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify