Chapter 60 Beg!
LYS
Hale’s rage was nothing like I had imagined.
Hot, blighting and scorching in a way I never dreamed of, not even when I worried about the aftermath of my betrayal years ago.
Not even in the nightmares that followed where he was mad at me, vengeful.
Right now, he made the dragon’s wrath look average.
The rumor for years has been that the quiet, laid-back mayor might have a bit of Lycan blood. He hid it well, dimming his scent, controlling his eyes, never losing his temper.
But at this moment, he was done hiding.
“Hale,” My chest squeezed, sweat running down my spine as I backed towards the door.
Gold bled into those midnight colored iris, almost similar to the dragon’s eyes when he was mad.
His pupils split into a vertical arrow, down to up, as flaming light bounced off them.
“Why did you lie?”
The point of his fangs glowed, and his skin shone like mine had last night at the silver cage. But as opposed to my greenish gold, his was liquid bronze.
“Why did you lie, Lys?” He growled, and the windows rattled.
I missed a step, but continued backing away from that dark rage, uncertain what he was referring to anymore. The present or the past.
Would he kill me, slash my throat open?
My gaze fell onto his fingers to see that they did not extend like a normal werewolf’s. Instead, their tips sharpened into spikes, black as if he had dipped them in tar.
I imagined them opening my throat from ear to ear and a whimper escaped me. “I did not mean to deceive you.”
“What this your grand plan all along? We heal you, and you run off to marry him?”
My back hit a wall, and my claws shot out. He was so close now, the power in his voice nearing what it had sounded like in that cave.
“It wasn’t my plan,” I said in a rush, turning my head sideways to avoid his gaze as my eyes began to heat up.
I was shifting. Involuntarily.
“It was Mom and Dad’s…”
“Who you’ve never gone against?” he cut in.
My heart was thudding. Rhea, Rhea, stand back. I squeezed my hands into fists, struggling.
It was better he directed this whole rage, hate, loathe at me. He might not kill me after all. But if he knew the truth, the real truth of four years ago, he would kill every other Grunder.
“Tell me the truth.” He was standing before me now, his breath fanning my exposed neck. “If I survived four years ago, I can handle anything.”
Traitorous Rhea. She was snapping at Aegir now.
She would get us both killed.
Her new temperament made no sense. When I needed help, she lounged and slept. When I needed her to stand back, she reared her head at a wolf that could break us without sweat.
“Admit it. This, too, was just a game for you. Your goal was to walk again… so you could marry your president's son.”
I pressed my lips tight.
“Come on. Don’t be a coward now.” He sniffed my neck like a hound as I pressed myself further into the wall, my face still to the side, desperate to get away from this rage.
“Say it!” he yelled.
And then I growled.
My body shot off the wall, fangs extended and growling in his face. “STOP. PUSHING. IT”
I froze immediately, stunned. Where had that come from? That rage, that hot magma in my belly.
It was alien to me, totally out of my natural temperament, the impulse to fight him for real, to hurt him.
He seemed taken aback as well, even though his stance had not changed. We stared at each other, as my chest rose and fell.
And in that moment, I was grateful he was the kind of alpha he was. Another would have slit my throat immediately for such insolence.
But then his hand closed around my neck, “You are my Luna,” His voice was a dangerous whisper.
I stood still, sending a hundred threats to Rhea not to dare shift.
“Mine.” His lips were by my ear now, still in that deadly whisper. “History will not repeat. I will tear that Fentone kid limb for limb before I let that happen again.”
I shivered as the strangest thing happened. My body was stirring in arousal to his words.
“You are my mate.” He kissed my cheek and his body slammed into mine, pinning me against the wall.
His hand left my throat and just as I inhaled he clutched my breasts.
My body bowed off the wall.
“Everyone has marked you.”
“Hale,” I was panting now.
His lips were everywhere; my chin, neck, and throat. Biting, tugging, sucking. Possessive.
“The vampire has your heart, the dragon owns your life. What does that leave me?”
I was writhing against him, desperate to tear away from him and those magic fingers. Those fingers that made me want to scream.
They were provocative enough to harden my nipples, to make my skin burn and my clit swell, but they offered no pleasure.
Unlike with the other men where my body enjoyed every single touch as independent capsules of pleasure, Hale did nothing except make my whole body scream for release.
It was like a game.
He fondled my breasts and my pussy begged for his dick.
He yanked on my nipples and my walls contracted, wet and screaming to be plugged.
And when he reached down between my legs, I squirmed and moved my hip around for that hard bar of his erection.
With Hale, it was as if my body was only designed for penetrative sex, like nothing would do till he was deep, deep inside me.
I was begging now, crying shamelessly for him to fuck me because his hands were torture.
“There, there,” was his only response. Triumphant.
“See how your body was made for me, designed only for me?” He spun me around, face against the wall, and rocked his erection against me.
“Hale, please.”
My breath hitched. He was shredding my panties. And skin on bare skin now, his fingers slipped into me.
The world stopped.
“Wet.” He murmured in my ear, “So wet.”
My body quaked, revving to life again. “Fuck.” I breathed, moving desperate hips, aching to pull his fingers deeper.
He chuckled and nipped my ear. “Daine was right. Such vulgar words in that private school accent. I want to hear it again.”
And his fingers speared me through.
My voice echoed round the studio, coming back to me in waves as the blinding pressure against my barrier bordered between pain and pleasure.
But then my cheeks flushed. I wanted more. I wanted him to rip me apart if it meant he got to take me now, and not a second later.
“Your body...” His voice was hoarse now, almost as breathless as I was. “Your body is working against you because you have denied Rhea her mate for so long.”
Rhea, the back-stabbing bitch, was in complete agreement with him.
He moved one hand up, and partly ripped the neckline of my shirt in his impatience to expose my breasts. I hissed as the cool air kissed my already hardened nipples.
They hung bare and exposed. And then I felt his wet fingers to the left.
My knees wobbled under me when he began to move his fingers, those awful torture weapons, in a slow, slow caress.
“Rhea’s need to mate will drive you completely insane over the next few weeks.” He pushed yet another finger into my warm wetness below.
I bit my lip hard, fresh tears jumping to my eyes. “What do you want me to do, beg?”
“Yes, fairy.” He kissed my neck from behind. “Beg.”