Traded To The Lycan King

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.

with this," he murmurs before he captures my

I moan in pleasure. His lips are softer than I imagined they would be with how sharp his tongue is. But I relish the way he doesn't hold back. The

other reason would he have for not being able to restrain himself? Not that it matters. What matters is the way he fingers at the hem of the oversized shorts I am wearing. My breathing hitches when his hand slides up my thigh,

my neck as 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

"Mmm," I hum.

moment and I want to whine, but his lips find mine again, his tongue tangling with mine as he wraps his

allowing him to carry us wherever the hell he wants. I gasp

He whispers, breaking away to press his forehead

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

his speed picking up as I gasp along with his every movement. I can feel pleasure mounting, the way it seems to build steam and makes my

his name with any more force

as if he is dragging me onto

to keep my voice down before he buries his head into my neck

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

this much. I should understand that

was making love to me in the woods. But then again, maybe my mistake is that I

threaten my eyes

ne?

gently press against his chest,

did? Who he

okay?" he asks, concern filling his

my throat. "Why

take my hair out of its ponytail, run my fingers through it and tie it back up, just looking for ways to buy myself time before having to look at him. "Was I too rough?" He asks, and I scoff, shaking my