Chapter 18 Chapter 18

Chapter 18 Chapter 18
Ashley

“Black Blood, of course,” I said quickly, forcing confidence into my voice. “Isn’t that where you took me from?”
He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he shook his head slowly, his expression hardening. “You are lying.”
I froze, my breath catching in my throat. “You thought we wouldn’t check?” he continued, his tone calm but cutting. “We went through the records of every member in that pack.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “You are not on that list.”
My heart began to race. “Your name only appeared among those who migrated there,” he added, watching me closely, “and that was barely a month before I attacked their pack.”
My lips parted, but no words came out. My mind went completely blank, panic creeping in before I could stop it. Right on cue, his eyes flickered gold, a signal. He nodded curtly. “I have to go, we will finish this conversation another day.” Relief flooded through me so quickly it almost made me weak.
But before I could step away, his hand, which had been gripping my wrist, tightened instead of releasing. He stared into my eyes, and I stared at his lips instead. My body ached, a sudden, deep pulsing heat blooming low in my belly. My breath hitched.
“I can smell your arousal,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a rough, intimate register. “Your body wants me.”
I bit my lip hard, trying to focus on his eyes, to regain control. But I shifted closer, my hips swaying forward, and subconsciously rubbed my swollen, needy pussy against the hard muscle of his thigh. My eyes went wide as I realized what I’d done. Instead of shame, a sharper, hungrier craving surged. So I rubbed harder, pressing myself against him shamelessly.
What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I acting like a dog in heat?
“I know what you want,” the King growled, his own voice thick with a lust that mirrored mine. I looked down, his cock was already hard, straining against the fabric of his pants, a prominent, demanding bulge. “I can’t give it to you right now. I have to go.” He tried to step back.
“Touch me. Please.” The plea tore from me desperately, my hands flew to my shirt, fumbling with the buttons. I loosened the first two, then the next, until the whole garment gaped open, my chest bare under his scrutiny. “I just need you to touch me.”
His eyes leered, drinking in the sight of my breasts, the rapid rise and fall of my chest. He glanced at the door, conflict warring in his gaze, then turned back to me with a final, decisive hunger. I reached down, my fingers brushing against the hard line of his cock through his pants, then grasping it firmly. He gasped, a sharp, shocked intake of air.
“What are you doing?” he asked, but his body arched into my touch.
“Getting you to fuck me,” I said, in a voice I barely recognized as mine, sultry and utterly commanding. “You started the fire, you have to quench it.”
He released my wrist and took a step back. “I really want to do this with you, but I have to be somewhere right now.” He took another step.
A flash of hot, indignant anger cut through the haze of desire. After putting me in this state, he wants to leave? “Fine, go.” I spat the words, turning my back on him as I walked to my bed.
I removed the shirt completely, letting it fall to the floor, and sprawled naked on the sheets. I ran my hands over my breasts, cupping them, lifting them towards him as I arched my back. “Just leave my door open.” I slid a hand down my stomach, my fingers finding the wet, slick heat between my legs. “At least any man who passes will see me, take pity on me, and finish what the King started.”
His eyes flashed a violent, predatory red. In an instant, he was on top of me, his body pinning me to the bed, his weight a delicious, crushing force. “No one dares to touch what belongs to me,” he growled, the sound vibrating through my very bones. “Don’t ever make such a comment again.” His face was inches from mine, his breath hot.
“Then stop talking and fuck me already,” I breathed, and his mouth crashed onto mine.
The kiss was furious, possessive. He took charge immediately, his tongue plunging into my mouth, coiling around mine in a deep, claiming rhythm. His hands grabbed my breasts, squeezing them, the pressure both painful and exquisitely pleasurable. I gasped into his mouth, my hips bucking beneath him.
We broke apart, gasping for air, and his mouth found my neck. He sucked hard, a sharp, branding sensation that made me cry out. “Fuck, your smell,” he muttered against my skin, his voice ragged. “It’s really addictive.”
He continued sucking, leaving a trail of hot, wet marks down my neck, then lower. His mouth descended on my breast, claiming a nipple. He didn’t just suck, he devoured, his tongue circled the stiff peak, then he nipped with his teeth, a sharp tease, before sucking deeply, drawing the sensation straight to my core. I lost it completely, a moan tearing from my throat.
My hands slid into his hair, gripping the dark strands. He stilled immediately, a tense freeze. I realized my mistake, I wasn’t supposed to touch him. “I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry,” I whispered.
He pulled back, staring at me with a strange, dawning confusion. “Why do I have this feeling that this has happened before? Your voice, too. Have we done this before?”
“If we have done this before, I would definitely remember,” I said, pushing my breasts towards his face again, an impatient offering. “Come on.”
He shook off the thought, the confusion replaced by raw hunger. He returned to my breasts, his mouth moving from one nipple to the other, worshiping each with the same intense pattern of nip, circle, and deep, pulling suck. My back arched off the bed, my fingers clawing at the sheets.
His hand went lower, sliding down my stomach. His fingers found my clit, already swollen and throbbing. He circled it, a slow, torturous rotation that made me moan out loud, the sound echoing in the room. I arched my back higher, and he sucked my nipple harder, just as his thick finger slid into my pussy.
“Fuccccck.” I screamed, the single syllable stretched into a long, desperate cry. His mouth left my breast and he began pumping his finger inside me, a slow, then faster rhythm. His lips found mine again, sucking on my bottom lip, biting it. The dual sensations, the deep penetration, the possessive kiss—sent sparks shooting through my nerves.
“You are driving me crazy,” he growled into my mouth. I responded by biting his neck, a sharp, claiming mark of my own. My hands went to his back, under his shirt, and I dug my nails in, dragging them down his muscles. He moaned, a deep, gratified sound.
“Feisty and aggressive. I love it,” he rasped.
I bit his shoulder harder as a familiar, tightening coil began to wind in my pussy. He added another finger, stretching me, filling me more completely. He thrusted with both fingers, just twice, deep and hard, and the coil snapped.
Orgasm hit me like a lightning strike. I screamed, my body convulsing under him, my toes curling violently as I released hard, a flood of wet heat slicking his fingers. The world blurred into pure sensation.
There was a hard, urgent bang on the door immediately. “Alpha!”
The King froze, his body still pressed against mine, his fingers still buried deep within my clenching warmth. His eyes flicked to the door, then back to my flushed, panting face. A slow, wicked smile touched his lips. He didn’t pull his fingers out. Instead, he curled them slightly, pressing against the sensitive inner walls, drawing a shuddering aftershock from me.
“They will wait,” he whispered, his voice a dark promise.