TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING novel Chapter 94

CHAPTER 63:YOURS. YOURS. YOURS

EMBER’S POV

The thought should scandalize me. Should make me pull away, find somewhere private, behave like the proper omega I was raised to be.

Instead, it makes me burn.

“I don’t care,” I gasp. “I just need you. Need-”

He pulls his hand away.

I actually whine at the loss, the sound embarrassingly desperate.

“Bathroom,” he says, and it’s not a question. “Now.”

He grabs my hand and starts pulling me through the crowd. I stumble after him, my legs shaky, my body screaming for release that keeps getting denied.

The club is a maze of bodies and lights and I have no idea where we’re going, but Knox navigates like he’s done this a thousand times before.

Maybe he has. I don’t care. I just care about getting somewhere private so he can finish what he started.

We burst through a door marked PRIVATE–probably VIP bathrooms, because of course–and then I’m against the wall, his mouth crushing mine, his hands shoving my dress up around my waist.

“Been thinking about this all night,” he growls between kisses. “Watching you dance. Watching you show

off. Wanted to throw you over my shoulder and claim you in front of everyone.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because some things are just for me. The sounds you make when you come. The way you look when you fall apart. Those are mine. Only mine.”

He lifts me like I weigh nothing. My back hits the wall hard enough to rattle the frame beside us, and I

don’t care.

My legs wrap around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back, pulling him closer, closer, never

close enough.

I hear his zipper. The metallic sound of it cuts through the haze of want clouding my brain.

Then I feel him–hot and hard and so fucking thick–pressing against my entrance through the soaked fabric of my panties.

“These,” he growls, yanking the lace aside so roughly I hear it tear, “are in my way.”

“Then get rid of them.”

He does. Rips them clean off my body and shoves the ruined scrap into his back pocket.

IPC WOURS

+25 Points

The head of him notches against my slick entrance. I’m so wet I can feel it dripping down my thighs, coating him, making obscene sounds as he teases my opening without pushing in.

“Say it,” he demands.

“Yours.”

“Again.” He pushes in just an inch–just enough to stretch me, to make me feel how big he is, how impossible this should be–and then stops.

“Yours, yours, yours-”

He rams into me.

The moan that tears from my throat is filthy. Pornographic. The kind of sound I didn’t know I was capable of making until Knox Volkov started fucking the dignity out of me

He’s so deep. So impossibly deep. I swear I can feel him in my throat, in my chest, in every cell of my body that’s screaming finally, finally, finally.

“Fuck.” His forehead drops to my shoulder, his whole body shuddering. “So tight. So fucking tight. Like your little cunt was made specifically for my cock.”

“Knox-”

“Feel that?” He pulls out slow–achingly, torturously slow–until just the tip remains inside me. “Feel how perfectly you grip me? How your body begs me to stay even when I’m pulling out?”

Then he slams back in, and I see stars.

He doesn’t start slow. Doesn’t give me time to adjust. He fucks me hard and fast and absolutely feral, each

thrust driving me up the wall, his hips snapping into mine with enough force to bruise.

The sounds are obscene. Wet. Filthy. The slap of skin on skin, the squelch of my arousal coating his c**k,

my broken moans mixing with his grunts and growls.

It’s exactly what I need.

“Yes,” I gasp, my nails raking down his back hard enough to draw blood through his shirt. “Yes, yes, fuck, don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking stop-”

“This what you wanted?” He bites down on my neck, sucking hard enough that I know there’ll be a bruise

tomorrow. “Wanted me to lose control? Wanted me to fuck you like a goddamn animal?”

“Yes-”

“Dirty little omega.” His hand fists in my hair, yanking my head back to expose my throat. “Teasing me on that dance floor. Grinding that perfect ass against my c**k. Making every man in that room want what’s mine while you waited for me to snap.”

His other hand slides between us, finding my clit, rubbing rough, messy circles that have me hurtling

+25 Points

toward the edge embarrassingly fast.

“Goddess. I could fuck you forever.” He slides two fingers through my folds alongside his c**k, gathering

the wetness there, then brings them to my lips. “Taste yourself. Taste how much you want this.”

I suck his fingers into my mouth, moaning around them, tasting my own arousal mixed with the salt of his

skin.

“Good girl.” His hips stutter, losing their rhythm. “Such a good fucking girl, taking my c**k so well, so hungry

for it-”

“I’m gonna come,” I warn him, my thighs trembling, my whole body coiling tight.

“Do it.” He pounds into me harder, deeper, hitting that spot inside me that makes me see white. “Come on my c**k. Soak me. Let me feel that pretty cunt milk me dry.”

I shatter.

The orgasm rips through me with enough force that I scream his name, my whole body clenching around him in rhythmic pulses as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me.

He fucks me through it, each thrust extending it, drawing it out, until I’m shaking and sobbing and clawing at him like I’ll die if he stops.

“That’s it,” he groans against my throat. “That’s my girl. Squeezing me so fucking tight–fuck, I can’t–I’m gonna-”

He comes with a roar that sounds like my name ripped from his chest, spilling inside me in hot, thick

pulses that I feel everywhere.

His hips jerk erratically, emptying himself into me, and I can feel it–feel him filling me up until there’s nowhere left for it to go, until it’s leaking out around his c**k and dripping down my thighs.

We cling to each other, trembling, panting, completely ruined in the best possible way.

Comments

LUCK DRAW >

Vote

480

HATER 64 YOUR REST FRIEND