Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 136

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.

rewards me immediately, lining himself up against my entrance. I can feel the head of his cock pressing against me, the promise of fullness after all his teasing. My body is

ERRRNNNN. ERRRNNN.

We both freeze.

through the glorious moment like an

Son. Of. A. Bitch.

from the bedside table, a distinct tone

shoving him off me with enough force to send him sprawling backward. I lunge across the bed toward my phone,

at the edge of the bed, his cock still hard and jutting

screen, heart pounding for reasons entirely

words tumble out automatically as I swipe through the

thighs are still shaking, my pussy still pulsing with

alert expands on my

and 20-L. Pattern recognition suggests coordinated action

Damn it.

specificity of the timing isn’t lost on me. Seven hundred years

my other

frowns. "What did

"Nothing—"

cuts through the air. Three precise impacts against the

frustration and resignation. He drapes an arm over his eyes, muttering some

eyes drift to his cock—still hard, still perfect, still not inside me. A genuine pang of

Owen knocks again.

a second!" I shout toward the door, knowing he can hear me perfectly well. The angelic asshole must be able to smell what’s behind our door, too, making it a smidgen more irritating he’s out there banging to interrupt

genius to know why

"Get dressed.

can’t wait ten seconds?" He props himself up on his elbows. "Five. Hell, I can do it in

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