Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 121

Chapter 120: Jack-Eye: Ruined

JACK-EYE

Lyre’s fingertips touch my jaw. Cold as winter but intent like summer heat. Her other hand presses against my chest, not pushing hard but with enough pressure to make me straighten.

She stands, one fluid motion that has me backing up instinctively. One step forward from her, one step back from me. A dance I’m suddenly not leading. My spine hits the wall before I realize she’s maneuvered me across the entire room.

"Rules," she says, voice low and matter-of-fact. "You can’t touch me. Can’t move. No begging." Her cat-like eyes hold mine, unblinking. "No calling my name. No calling for the Goddess. No prayers."

I snort. Is she serious? I’ve had my share of wild nights, but she’s acting like this kiss might break me.

"Can you follow those rules, Aaron?"

"I think I can handle a kiss without calling for divine intervention." My words sound confident. My dick? Not quite as sure.

It’s already painfully hard.

The corner of her mouth quirks up, and her tongue darts out to wet her lips. Just a flash of pink against her smirking mouth. My cock throbs in response, sudden and painful.

Fuck.

I swallow hard.

She leans in, and her mouth touches mine. It’s gentle. Controlled. Intentional. Nothing like the desperate crash of our lips from moments ago.

That’s it? I almost laugh. This is what she—

Heat.

It doesn’t start at my lips. It’s everywhere at once, sinking beneath my skin like liquid fire, wrapping around every blood vessel, every muscle, every tendon. My entire body tingles like she’s somehow touching all of me at once.

Then comes the ice—tiny flickers of cold dancing between the waves of heat. Like she’s playing my nerves, strumming me like an instrument.

Her fingertips are still on my chest. Her mouth is still barely touching mine. It’s the only physical contact between us, but my body feels like it’s being caressed everywhere.

My spine arches slightly against the wall, a puppet pulled by pleasure’s strings.

My wolf stirs, aroused beyond reason. His deep growls echo what I’m already thinking.

Claim her.

Mark her.

Keep her.

pull her against me. The moment

so abruptly I almost

Almost.

pride, you

it’s there, somewhere behind my straining,

heavy-lidded as

the one

hands back, fingers opening and closing in tight fists,

a slow, deliberate tease. Her hand slides up my chest, around my

back of my neck and yanks

follows

not enough. I need more of it, more of her, and

should do it.

with soft, sensual kisses. Her tongue flicks against the seam of my lips, promising but never delivering. I need to

my sides, my entire body trembling with the effort not to

that I’m breathing in perfect rhythm with her. She’s

buck once, instinctively seeking friction. She breaks the contact

Nothing touches.

And nothing’s satisfied.

into complacency. No thrusting against her like a rutting beast.

exhales softly, directly into my mouth. I suck

moan escapes me before I can

Men don’t moan like that. We’re strong and capable

But I did.

kissed me, and I’m already

my insides, frantic and feral. I can barely hold him back. His need for her mingles with

room. I can barely smell

domination, but I’m already at

claim her. Mark her. Not just her body, but her entire existence. Bind her to me so deeply that neither of us could ever be

to beg and prostrate myself for even a whisper of a kiss. Sell my

again, straining

Actually fucking trembling, like some virgin getting his first taste of a woman. My thighs are tight,

Lyre did this.

she’s done almost

next breath, her next taste.

of my mouth and holy shit—I see stars.

my mouth in long, languid movements, teasing and retreating. Her taste is stronger than before—sweet, addictive,

fingers clawing at empty air. My

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