TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING novel Chapter 170

EMBER’S POV

The kiss is desperate, consuming, nothing like the gentle comfort from before. This is need. This is hunger.

This is two people who almost lost each other trying to prove that they’re still breathing.

I reach between us and wrap my hand around his c**k and fuck he’s bigger than usual.

Thick and hard and so swollen the veins are bulging under my fingers, the tip flushed and angry and dripping precum down my knuckles.

The sound he makes against my mouth is filthy – a tormented sound between a growl and a groan that vibrates through my whole body – and his hips jerk forward, shoving more of that fat c**k into my grip like he can’t help himself.

I stroke him slowly, feeling every ridge and vein drag against my palm, feeling him pulse and throb in my

hand like he’s got a heartbeat there.

He’s so big my fingers barely wrap around him. So hard it looks almost painful.

“Ember.” My name sounds like a prayer and a warning all at once, his voice tortured. “We shouldn’t-”

“Shh.” I stroke him faster, squeezing tighter, smearing his precum down his shaft until he’s slick and hot in my fist.

I press my naked body flush against his, my t**s sliding against his wet chest, my mouth brushing his jaw.

“Let me take care of you. You’ve been carrying so much. Worrying so much. Just let go.”

His forehead drops to my shoulder, his breath coming in harsh, ragged pants against my skin.

can feel the tension winding tighter and tighter in his body – every muscle coiled to snap, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise, his wolf so close to the surface his skin feels like it’s vibrating. His c**k swells even fatter in my hand, the head going purple and slick, and his hips start moving on their own – fucking into my fist with shallow, desperate, filthy thrusts.

He’s close. So fucking close I can feel his balls drawing up tight against my wrist, his thighs shaking, his breath nothing but broken groans and half–choked curses against my shoulder.

I stop.

The sound that rips out of him is barely human.

“Ember.” His head snaps up, eyes blazing pure gold, no trace of blue remaining. “What the fuck-

“What’s wrong, Your Majesty?” I smile sweetly up at him, pressing back against the cool tile of the shower wall. “Scared you’ll lose control?”

Something dangerous flickers across his face.

“Don’t play with me.” His voice is pitched low, deadly, the voice of a predator warning its prey. “Not right

now.

00-

“Who’s playing?” I tilt my head, all innocence, even as I roll my hips against him and let him feel how wet I am, how ready. “I’m just asking à simple question. What are you so afraid of?”

“You have no idea-”

“Then show me.” I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, aligning our bodies so the head of his c**k presses right against my entrance. “Fuck me, Knox. Stop worrying, stop thinking, and just take me against this wall. I’m not fragile. I’m not going to break. I’m perfectly healthy. The doctor said so himself.”

“The doctor said rest-”

“I don’t want rest.” I grind against him, teasing, torturing us both. “want you. I want you inside me. I want you to stop treating me like I’m made of glass and fuck me like you’ve been wanting to since we walked into this bathroom.”

For one glorious, breathless moment, I think he’s going to do it.

I think he’s going to slam that fat c**k into me so hard I see stars.

I think he’s going to pin me against this wall and fuck me like an animal uncaring and brutal and so deep

I’ll feel him in my throat.

The stupid, senseless pounding that will make me forget my own name. The kind of fucking that leaves you limping and ruined and so full of cum it drips down your thighs for hours.

The kind of fucking that just might silence all the noise in my head.

His hands tighten on my hips hard enough to bruise. His eyes go completely gold, nothing human left in

them at all.

His c**k twitches against me, so hard it must be painful, and I can feel the barely–contained violence, of his wolf pressing against the walls of his control.

Then he rips himself away from me.

r

His fist slams into the tile beside my head with a crack that makes me flinch, ceramic shattering into spiderweb fractures around his knuckles.

He stays there, frozen, forehead pressed against the ruined wall, water streaming down his back as he drags in breath after ragged breath.

“Knox-”

“Don’t.” The word is barely human. More growl than speech. “Just… don’t.”

He pushes off the wall without looking at me, steps out of the shower, grabs a towel. The bathroom door slams behind him, and then he’s gone.

I–stand there in the steam, heart pounding, body aching with unfulfilled need.

My hand drifts between my legs almost without conscious thought, finding my clit swollen and sensitive, and I bite my lip against a moan as I start to touch myself.

I think about his hands on me. His eyes burning gold. The way his c**k felt in my grip, thick and hard and desperate.

I think about what it would have felt like if he hadn’t stopped, if he’d pinned me against this wall and fucked me the very way I knew he wanted to.

The orgasm crashes through me hard and fast, and I have to press my hand over my mouth to muffle the sound.

But afterward, standing alone in the cooling water, it feels hollow. Empty. Like scratching an itch without actually satisfying it.

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