Chapter 93
-also the one from my dreams. The one who apologized. Who seemed almost… protective.
And right now, faced with the choice between him and the approaching guards-
I pushed the door open and stumbled inside.
The King’s Den was dark except for the faint glow of embers in a fireplace.
I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, gasping.
I’m here. I’m actually here. What the fuck am I doing?
Another cramp hit-the worst one yet. I cried out and slid down the door to my knees, both hands pressed against my cramping abdomen.
The need was so intense now I could barely breathe. Barely think. Could only feel the desperate, all-consuming hunger for-
For the cock that could fill me. Satisfy me. Make this unbearable ache finally stop.
“Please,” I whimpered into the darkness. “Please, I can’t-I need-”
A shape moved in the shadows ahead of me.
Large. Massive.
The Wolf King stepped into the dim light cast by the dying embers.
He was in his full Lycan form-seven feet of muscle and fur and raw, predatory power. His amber eyes glowed in the darkness, fixed on me
with an intensity that made my already racing heart pound even harder.
And between his legs-
Oh God.
His cock was already erect. Massive and thick and glistening with pre-cum. At least twelve inches long. Too big. Way too big.
I can’t take that. It’ll split me in half.
But my body didn’t agree. My pussy clenched at the sight of it, gushing more wetness, opening wider, preparing itself.
Yes, my body screamed. That. That’s what I need.
“Please,” I heard myself say. My voice was barely recognizable-thick with need, rough with desperation. “Please, it hurts. I need-I need-
Mordred moved closer. Slowly. Like he was approaching a frightened animal.
And I couldn’t run. Couldn’t move. Could only kneel there on the cold stone floor, trembling and desperate, as the Wolf King prepared to
claim me once again.
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18:50 Fri, Feb 27
Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King’s Slave Island
Chapter 93
Natasha’s POV
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The sight of it should have terrified me. Should have sent me scrambling for the door.
But instead, my body responded with a fresh gush of wetness. My pussy clenched desperately around nothing, aching to be filled by that
massive shaft.
I need it. God help me, I need it so badly.
My hands moved to my trousers, fumbling with the ties. My fingers were shaking so hard I could barely manage the simple knots.
Finally, they came loose. I shoved my trousers down my hips, along with my soaked underwear, exposing myself completely.
The cool air hit my burning pussy and I gasped. I was so swollen, so wet. Juices were literally dripping down my thighs.
Without conscious thought, my body moved into position.
I pressed my upper body to the floor, my cheek against the cold stone. My ass raised high in the air. Knees spread wide on the hard
ground.
The position of submission. Of offering. Of a female presenting herself to be mounted.
What am I doing? What the fuck am I doing?
But I couldn’t stop. My hands reached back, trembling, and spread my pussy lips apart with my fingers.
Opening myself. Showing him everything. The pink, swollen flesh. The wetness glistening in the dim light. The entrance to my body,
clenching and unclenching with desperate need.
“Please,” I heard myself whimper. “Please, I need-”
Modred let out a roar.
Deep and primal and so loud it shook the very walls. The sound reverberated through my body, through my bones, making me tremble
even harder.
It was a sound of claim. Of possession. Of a male accepting the offering of a female in heat.

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