The Lycan King's Muse

Ep 33: Sweet Lies

"Lyall, wait..." He stops my voice with another kiss. More forceful this time. With more necessity.

"Lyall–" It's already hard enough for me to keep breathing between his kisses. It's almost impossible to slip a word in. Each of his kisses keeps getting more intense. Electricity courses from my fingertips to my spine. My body feels weak to move, so all I can do is grip his shirt so tightly for support.

Now and then, my resolve sways, and I melt with his hot lips. Now and then, I want to just bask in his warm embrace and return his kisses. But every time I surrender to the flow deep within, my stomach churns, and it begins to hurt. It burns.

Lyall has torn my pants almost completely, baring my legs to the chillness of the room. Yet his body heat envelops me with warmth. At moments, I think to myself that all I need is his body heat and I would be fine. And that's the scariest of it all.

That I've gotten too comfortable with his touch. That I almost surrender completely.

"Marsha," he whispers to my skin, "I've dreamt to have you since I saw you." His lips trail down from my chin to my neck and then to my collarbone. At the same time, he rips the collar of my scrub so easily, exposing my neck and chest. "But I held back because you never really seemed ready and I don't want to force you."

"I..." Again. He stops my voice with kisses from his hot lips, making me out of breath and unable to form words. How can I? How can anyone think when the lycan king is worshipping your body?

His lips hover on Ed's mark, on that one spot just above my collarbone. "It's fine if you're not ready for me to mark you," he whispers electrifying words to my skin, "But if you'll let me have you completely, I..."

I may not be a lycan, but werewolves also live with hierarchy. The Alpha is like a king to us. Whatever the alpha says, we do. It's natural instinct for us to feel obliged to do whatever he tells us to.

That was why it was so hard to make the decision to leave my pack. It's actually a foreign feeling for a werewolf to want to break free from a pack, to the one community we grew up thinking is our entire world. It took a while for me to break the mold they have cast in my mind since I was young.

But that instinct stays, even if it's deep under the surface.

So when the lycan king starts kissing me, deep down, my instinct tells me to surrender to him. Even Sash, my wolf, demands I just give up my resolve and let Lyall takes us both, body and soul.

I gather the courage to push his body away, but he snakes his fingers behind my head, keeping me in place as he claims my lips. Yes, again. It's like he could never have enough of it.

The way he kisses me... I don't think there are words to describe it. He sucks and pulls my lips as if they are honey. Sometimes he would bite my lower lip slightly, which then I can't control the slight groan coming out of my throat. I can see his lips quirking up a bit every time I moan because of him and then he deepens his kiss, prying open my lips so his tongue can meet mine in a dance of passion.

Ed never kissed me like this. This deep... this passionate.

The way he tastes my mouth makes me dizzy. As if fireworks explode in my brain, melting away all thoughts from inside me. If someone asks what's my name at that moment, I would have forgotten how to answer.

Not only that, the way he grabs a fistful of my hair with one hand while keeping me from pulling away from his kisses... I don't know how he can be so firm yet gentle at the same time. I don't feel pain at all. And knowing this little detail, that he restrains his force with me, makes me feel safe... it makes me want to surrender even more.