The Alpha King Marked Me. I Still Haven't Told Him I'm A Girl novel Chapter 104

Chapter 104: One Hundred & Four

Moving hurts.

My muscles strain from being suspended for hours. Sleep lulls at me, seducing me slowly, but each time I relax, my insides clamp tightly around that steady, unmoving intrusion inside of me. The plugs on my nipples scrape against the stand, sending bolts of pain and pleasure through my aching points.

I’m wet. Wetter than I’ve ever been in my life.

It is obscene, feeling myself trickle down my legs and not being able to put myself out of my misery. My legs shakes, body ever stuck in that state of arousal.

Something inside me wants out, violently. My body is teetering on the edge of something, my core drenched. I shake with the force of it. It is overwhelming, spiralling out of control.

Eventually, my eyelids droop shut and I fall into an uncomfortable, discomfited sleep. Awoken this time by the soft, silent click of the door.

My bones tremble. "Lucien?" I mouth around the gag.

No response. Just the silent scruff of boots against marble. I gasp at the feather light touch of lips to my thighs, a wet tongue gliding higher, licking me. I pull at the restraints, trying to get his attention, but he doesn’t stop.

A throaty moan slips out as he pulls it out of me, my insides contracting around nothing. "Did you miss us?" he asks, fingers inching hauntingly closer to my entrance.

Us?

"Fuck you," I mouth, but it’s only garbled noises. Release me. Fuck me, then release me? Oh. Release me. Fuck me. Then die.

"We could smell you all the way across the house," he murmurs. "Everyone can. Had to stall the meetings, send them away. Couldn’t have every man within the five mile radius turned on by the scent of our mate’s arousal."

I finally catch sight of his boots. They’re coated in snow. Slowly, against the pain in my neck, I raise my head to glare at him. Only to stall at the sight of his face. At the sight of those black eyes staring down at me. At the dark veins spreading along each side of his face.

It may look like Lucien, but it most definitely is not. I may have awoken something I shouldn’t have.

And it should scare me. It *does* scare me. But gods, does he look beautiful. He grabs my chin roughly, a claw running along my jaw, drawing blood with it’s sharp point. *"Hello, again."*

Wolves, Lycans, the beasts inside each one of us possess sentience. There’s a certain law that states that they were formed before we ever were. Sometimes, we rule them. On few occasions, we *let* them have control, so in a way, it happens with all of our awareness. There are some things that should never be let out to have complete reign.

Lucien’s Lycan is one of those things.

The malevolence crackling in the air is something seismic. I know evil when I see it. I know ancient cruelty when I see it. I know mischief, rife, death when I see it. And I’m currently staring in the eyes of all of those things.

And death is holding my gaze. Touching me. Stirring want under my skin, with the trace of claws cuting me. Something about his appearance seems rawer. And it hits me then that Lucien must always place a damper on who he is, on what he is. Because I recognise this.

From my first few dreams of him. This terrible power that didn’t belong here. That frightening intensity that makes my eyes want to bleed tears.

My eyes search his, even if it is futile, for even the slightest glimpse of Lucien. Surprisingly, the Lycan cocks his head, silver brows softening as he soaks in every nuance of my reaction. "We are one. Two sides of a whole. We co-exist. We thrive and suffer as one. But when it comes to you, he won’t share. Selfish, isn’t he?" He smears my blood against my lips. "You are a pretty, little thing, Valka... Ironfang? Draemont?" He shakes his head. "Confusing, names. You. When I am with you, I shall call you Pet."

Goosebumps erupt across my skin. He notes it. "Do we frighten you, *pet*?"

"No," I lie.

His mouth turns up at the corners. "Do you know why humans and wolves despise us so much, redressing it with racial hate and politicking?" When I don’t say respond, he says, "Because we see right through them. We sense what they want, before they even know it themselves. We can hear the tempo of their heart, beating with need and fear of the unknown. Having that kind over power over anyone can be rather frightening."

He reaches down to take off the plugs. A slight moan leaves my lips on the release on the tension. For a moment, all I feel is fire, my buds swollen and red, pointing forward sharply like arrow points. "We can smell the wetness between their thighs, know when they are quickened. Our abilities let us know right where to touch them, and what they need the most. Having that kind of power over anyone frightens them."

He yanks me up by my neck, forcing me to rest on my knees as his dark gaze caresses my breasts. "And you are as frightened, as you are starving."

The height of the stand makes it easier for him to cup the back of my waist, arching my spine for his touch, and lower his mouth to his chest.

My body bows, the shock turning into delicious heat. An electric, dizzying pleasure steals my voice as his tongue circles, soothing, ruining.

Already, I’m there. My mind takes me back to that night when I’d been drunk and Lucien had been inside me. And that is the image I lose my orgasm to, a cry shattering from me, as I nearly take apart the stand.

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