Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 134: Lyre: Her Game (III)

LYRE

His dominance pushes deeper inside me—an invisible, maddening pressure. it fills without filling. My hips buck against it, desperate for friction that isn’t there. Just this ethereal presence stretching me open while I clench around nothing but air and alpha energy.

"Fuck," I gasp, grinding down harder. It’s maddening—too much and not enough. Both filled and empty. Every thrust of his aura just reminds me I’ve got nothing solid inside me.

My magic sparks wildly under my skin, crackling along nerve endings that haven’t fired in way too long. I’m completely lit up with want so intense it borders on pain.

Aaron slides his cock against my entrance, and I jerk forward, positioning myself just right, ready to take him in one perfect thrust—

But the bastard sees it coming.

He pulls back with a smug fuck-you smirk, dodging me just as I line him up.

"Goddamn it," I growl, my thighs trembling with the need to slam myself down on him anyway. Arcana surges, wild and hungry, lashing out to drag him in—greedy and reckless, just like me.

But he’s learned faster than expected, using his dominance to hold firm against my need. His aura expands inside me, pressing deeper, wider, filling me with everything but what I want.

I’m furious. I’m aching. If he wanted to fuck my mouth, I’d open for him. If he wanted to fold me in half and pound me through this shitty motel mattress, I’d wrap my legs around him and beg for more. But this? This slow, torturous denial? I might actually lose what’s left of my mind.

snarl. "You’re going to

now?" His eyes drift down to where I’m spread open for him, clenching around invisible pressure. "Right now I’m enjoying every twitch, every pulse, every drop of you. You’re

the coil of need. I’ve always been the one setting the pace, dictating the terms. Now I’m writhing beneath an alpha wolf who’s figured out how to use his dominance, making

you," he murmurs, voice dropping to a panty-melting register. Fuck. "Every time I push a little deeper—" He demonstrates, his dominance surging inside me, thrusting deep enough to have my back arching off the bed. "—your body just pours for me. So wet you’re

my will, seeking him, begging without words because I refuse—absolutely refuse—to plead. But my body betrays me, tilting upward, trying to capture the head of his cock as he teases it along my

about it already," I snap, frustration

warning, no softness—pain. I hiss, back arching as he draws my nipple through his teeth. Then he soothes with his

my folds, hot and slick with my arousal, but he still doesn’t fuck me—just keeps thrusting against me like a goddamn tease, every wet drag of him making me twitch with need. His dominance pulses inside me in time with each thrust,

ripples under my skin, desperate to capture him, to pull him inside. But he’s

I grit out. A plea disguised as

my legs lifts over his thigh, exposing me completely. His cock

his cock between my thighs instead of pushing inside.

ready to capture him on

dodge me, knowing exactly what I’m trying to

patience. I could kill him. I could set this whole motel on fire. I

grind against him, desperate for friction, for release, for anything to ease this unbearable

never entering. His dominance continues its invisible claiming, pulsing inside me with each roll of his hips. The