Traded To The Lycan King by MG Wattsons

Sparks explode through my body, flooding me with warmth as my heart pounds in my ears. Hayes remains still and my stomach drops out, my cheeks heating in embarrassment and disappointment before I pull away. I stumble backward, my hand coming over my mouth

as Hayes reaches out and catches me.

"I'm sorry." I murmur, looking everywhere and anywhere but at him.

"Kyra." Hayes says softly,

"Shit, shit, I am sorry. I don't know what came over me." It's a lie. I know exactly what came over me. The damn mate bond and the memories of how much I cared for him. It was idiotic and I realize that now that I am in my right mind.

"Kyra," He says again, his arm yanking me to him as my eyes grow wide and I let out a confused squawk.

"Uh," I look up at him, feeling the air fade away around me as I watch his eyes scan my face and land on my lips before they crash into mine.

Electricity surges from my lips to my fingertips as I melt into him, forgetting everything else. He is harsh and hungry as his hand slides up my face, guiding me, no, holding me in place. His calloused thumb rubs over my cheek, my lips parting as I slip my tongue out to taste him.

Hayes' mouth opens, his teeth catching my tongue before releasing it and chasing me with his own. My arms slip up and over his neck, his hands moving as he holds me tight and kisses me like he wants to consume me. Butterflies dance in my stomach, my limbs feeling like they melt on the spot if I can't have more of him. I need more of him.

He breaks away in a flash, his heated breath panting over my lips as I lift my lust laden eyes to meet his. There is nothing but desire and unbridled need on his face, no regret or hesitation and yet, he presses his lips together and leans back.

"I need you to stop." He says, his voice a husky growl that brings an uncontrolled shiver up my spine.

"Why?" I whisper, leaning into him as I press my head to his chest, trying to catch my breath.

"Because I can't," He whispers. His hand glides up my side, over my arm and across my shoulder. Then he tickles over my skin with his fingers caressing over my collar bone before he gently places his hand over my throat and up my chin, lifting my head. "Say no, or I will not stop."

"I thought you hated me," I whisper, that snarky part of me unable to remain hidden.

do with this," he

imagined they would be with how sharp his tongue is. But I relish the way he doesn't hold back. The way his lips may be soft, but his grip on my neck and

wearing. My breathing hitches when his hand slides up my

he nuzzles and presses kisses to my soft flesh. I drag my hands to his chest, resting them gently as I roll my hips toward his hand, practically begging for more than the soft massage he is giving my outer thigh. I can feel his smile against my neck and my chest flutters

"Mmm," I hum.

leg for a moment and I want to whine, but his lips find mine again, his

hell he wants. I gasp when my back presses against

He whispers, breaking away to press his forehead

the words. His hand disappears, and he reaches between us before he deftly slips my shorts to the side and his eyes meet mine. Heat floods to my lower belly as I watch him observing me. I moan as he presses forward, his own pleasured groan making me sink into him deeper. My

he grunts, his speed picking up as I gasp along with his every movement. I can feel pleasure mounting, the way it

I murmur, unable to say his name with

me tight as if he is dragging

to keep my voice down before he

"Fuck, Leandra...yes...fuuuuck." He groans.

and my chest burning. It shouldn't hurt this much. I should understand

Hayes who was making love to me in the woods. But then again, maybe my mistake is that I assumed we were making love and not just having a good

eyes as my

ne?

I might rip apart at any moment. Gone is the high of the moment as I turn my head away and gently press against his chest, disconnected us on too many levels before I stumble to the side and fix my shorts. I clear my throat, unsure of

he did? Who he

asks, concern

clearing my throat.

it back up, just looking for ways to buy myself time before having to look at him. "Was I too rough?" He asks, and

turning with the fakest smile I have ever mustered. He frowns at me, his hand on

But I can't...what I want is space,