Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 135: Lyre: Her Game (IV)

LYRE

"Get inside me before I turn you into a toad."

The words come out before I can think twice, but I won’t take them back.

I’m going to kill this man if he keeps up this game of his. I know he wants more; know he’s nowhere near satisfied. And yet he’s holding out.

His hands on my skin, his cock teasing my pussy, his power pulsing inside of me... it’s infuriating. Intoxicating.

Almost like I’ve started a game I have no chance of winning. But of course not. I’ve just handed him the reins for today.

One time. A temporary release. A single night of pleasure with an oversexed wolf. Maybe more, since he’s proving himself to be a very nice toy...

But that’s all this is.

Lyrielle doesn’t beg.

Aaron leans down, his lips brushing my ear. His breath sends shivers down my spine, tickling my skin.

"That’s not how you beg, Lyre."

This bastard. I could kill him for this—for making me want, for making me surrender. And yet here I am, legs spread, hands clutching at the sheets, every fiber of my being centered on the semi-empty ache between my thighs.

My teeth grind together as I fight the urge to simply hex him. I could do it. A snap of my fingers, a whispered word, and this wolf would be on his knees. But that’s not what I want. Not right now.

"...Please."

It’s a false surrender on my tongue. Bitter and sweet at the same time.

promise of fullness after all his teasing. My body is slick, ready, trembling with anticipation. I hold my breath, waiting for the moment he

ERRRNNNN. ERRRNNN.

We both freeze.

an emergency alert slices through the glorious moment like an entire glacier thrown at our naked,

Son. Of. A. Bitch.

distinct tone that I’ve

chest, shoving him off me with enough force to send him sprawling backward. I lunge

be fucking kidding me," the Lycan growls, sprawled awkwardly at the edge of the bed, his cock still hard and

heart pounding for reasons entirely different

ignore it..." The words tumble out automatically as I swipe

we both process what’s happening. My thighs are still shaking, my pussy still pulsing with

expands on my

Warning Protocol: Cosmic intervention documented in region 23-BETA and 20-L. Pattern recognition suggests coordinated action against

Damn it.

isn’t lost on me. Seven hundred years I’ve been avoiding entanglements, and the one time I

I mumble, checking my other notifications. There’s

frowns. "What did

"Nothing—"

through the air. Three precise impacts against the door. The arcana outside is easy to recognize, all golden and

the bed with a groan, equal parts frustration and resignation. He drapes an arm over his eyes, muttering some inventive curses. Something about being blue-balled by a phone, among other things. Hellfire on a leash? That’s a

to his cock—still hard, still perfect, still not inside

Owen knocks again.

perfectly well. The angelic asshole must be able to

genius to know why

"Get dressed.

and looks at me incredulously. "It can’t wait ten seconds?" He