Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals! novel Chapter 180

Chapter 180: 180. Nesting IV

Maisie

The wind hit my overheated skin but it did nothing to touch the burning fire between my legs.

Then he shoved me against the cold, concrete wall, one hand gripping my jaw as he kissed me hard. One shoved my skirt up around my waist while the other dropped from my jaw and cupped me through my soaked panties, pressing hard against my swollen clit. I whimpered into his mouth, hips jerking forward on instinct.

"Putain, chérie," he rasped against my lips, accent thick and rough. "Still dripping. I can smell how badly you need it."

I did. God, I did. I felt empty and aching, walls fluttering on nothing. The wind tugged at my hair and carried the sound of voices drifting up from the quad. Laughter. Someone calling out. Anyone could look up. Anyone could decide to come up here.

"Quinn, someone could—"

"I don’t give a fuck," he growled. "Let them look. Let them hear." Two thick fingers shoved my panties aside and thrust straight into me, curling hard against that spot he knew too well. I cried out, the sound ripped away by the wind. "You’re going to come on my hand first. And then, you’re going to take my cock like the good little mate you are."

I was already close from his torturing in class. I braced against his shoulder, curling my leg around his calf as he worked me fast and hard in a filthy rhythm, fingers pumping, thumb grinding on my clit while his mouth moved to my throat, teeth scraping over the place where Jericho’s mark sat.

My thighs shook, my breaths coming in short gasps. And when he added a third finger, grounding the heel of his palm against my clit, light shot out from behind my eyes. I tried to bite my lip to stay quiet. It didn’t work. A cry exploded out of me.

Quinlan’s free hand came up to cover my mouth. "Shhh, mon couer. Unless you want them to hear exactly how I’m about to fuck you."

He pulled his fingers free, glistening in the sunlight and my toes curled when he brought them to his lips and sucked, while holding my gaze.

I went feral, fisting his shirt and yanking him into me. He huffed a laugh as I kissed him hungrily, clumsily, drunk on the pleasure and my taste in his lips.

Then he was unbuckling his belt one-handed, shoving his pants down just far enough to free himself.

He lifted me easily, my back scraping the rough stone, legs wrapping around his hips. The thick head of his cock nudged my entrance, and he growled an annoyed sound when my underwear got in the way once more. And then, he just outrightly ripped it off. "Guess you’re going to have to spend the rest of the day without it," he said hotly, clenching the soaked fabric between his teeth.

"You are nasty," I said, face slack with disbelief, and he gripped my bare ass, nudging my thighs wider so he could find my entrance. "The nastiest man I’ve ever met."

He grinned and somehow murmured around my panties in a muffled sound, "I aim to please."

And then he thrusted into me.

It was strange now that four days of being sick and without any type of sexual contact made me feel so empty and starved, I didn’t even care about the burn, didn’t care to let him stretch me out slowly first before I began humping up and down on him, clenching so hard, I mewled, eyes crossing.

"Putain de merde—" His forehead dropped to mine, breath ragged. "So fucking tight. So wet. You feel that? That’s what you do to me, chérie."

It still shocked me how I got it all wrong. How I thought if one of them were to be the gentlest in bed, it would have been Quinlan. But that title was Soren’s, who made love like a proper gentleman, wooing and courting and teasing his beloved, crawling slowly into your soul from between your legs that you didn’t know precisely when he had your heart and mind. When he wasn’t pissed off, of course.

Quinlan’s pace turned almost frantic. "Tu es à moi," he snarled against my ear, accent curling around the words.

"Oui." He kissed my chin, my neck. "Come for me, chérie."

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