TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING novel Chapter 422

347 YOU PLAYED ME

CHAPTER 347: YOU PLAYED ME

EMBER’S POV

Not when I press closer and roll my hips against him in a slow, filthy grind, rubbing the bare heat my p***y against the thick, hard line of his c**k through his trousers.

Not when his hands slide down to grip my waist tighter. Not when I take one of his wrists and guide his palm under the hem of the slip, higher and higher, until his fingers brush bare skin.

He goes still for half a second.

Then his fingers slide between my legs and find nothing but slick, bare heat.

A low, rough groan rips out of his chest and straight into my mouth when I kiss him again.

His fingers stroke through my folds once, slow and possessive, gathering the wetness there like

can’t believe how soaked I am.

I grind forward against his hand and against his c**k at the same time, and he makes another sound – deeper, hungrier – as two of his fingers slide easily through the mess between my thigh:

“Ember…” It’s half warning, half plea, growled against my lips.

I don’t stop moving.

I keep us walking backwards, slow and steady, while I kiss him deep and filthy, my tongue sliding against his as I roll my hips in lazy, torturous circles.

Every drag of my bare cunt over the hard ridge in his trousers sends sparks up my spine.

The herb has turned everything hot – I can feel how swollen and sensitive I am, how every little

movement makes me wetter.

His fingers are still between my legs, stroking, exploring, and I can feel how badly he wants to push them inside me.

But I don’t let him.

I catch his wrist again and pull his hand out from under the slip, even as he groans in protest.

I bring that same hand up to my breast instead, letting him feel how hard my n****e is through the thin fabric, and I keep kissing him slow, deep, filthy – while I steer us the last few steps toward

the bed.

His hands fist in my hair.

–

YOU PLAYED ME

He makes that low, broken sound into my mouth again, like he’s already losing the fight. I can fi

how hard he is against me, how his c**k twitches every time I grind down on him.

The heat between us is thick and heavy. Every slow step backwards feels like foreplay.

He still doesn’t notice when the back of his legs hits the edge of the mattress.

I push gently at his chest, and he sits down without breaking the kiss, pulling me down with him I’m straddling his lap.

I sink onto him properly now, grinding down on his clothed c**k in slow, deliberate rolls of my hi that drag my soaked p***y along his entire length.

The fabric is already damp from me. I can feel every thick inch of him under me,

His hands are everywhere – gripping my ass under the slip, sliding up my bare thighs, one of the

trying to sneak between us again to get to my cunt.

I catch that wrist before he can and slowly, deliberately, guide it up toward the headboard while I keep kissing him like I’m trying to devour him.

He lets me.

He’s too far gone on the feel of my wet p***y grinding on him, on the herb burning in his blood, on the way I’m kissing him like I own his mouth.

His wrist meets cold metal.

The cuff snaps shut around it with a soft click.

For one suspended second, Knox goes completely still under me.

His mouth is still on mine.

His free hand is still under my slip, fingers pressed against the bare curve of my ass. I feel the

exact moment his brain tries to process.

But I don’t let him.

I grab his other wrist, drag it up to the headboard, and the second cuff locks shut.

I pull back, breathing hard, and there he is.

The Lycan King. Alpha of all Alphas. Most dangerous man on the continent.

Chained to his own bed, shirt hanging open, chest heaving, eyes black and blown wide with the herb and with the slow, dawning realisation of exactly what I’ve done to him.

I watch it land.

YOU PAYED ME

The dance. The dress. The herb. The drinks.

All of it was bait.

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