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.

has nothing to do with this," he

tongue is. But I relish the way he doesn't hold back. The way his lips may be

am wearing. My breathing hitches when his hand slides up my thigh, softly rubbing my skin, his fingers brushing along the outside of my hip where, had circumstances been different, I would have the line of my undergarments. There is no stopping the way my skin

chin, then 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.

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

him to carry us wherever the hell he wants. I gasp when my back presses against a tree, his hard body pressed against mine in a delicious

whispers, breaking away to press his

him observing me. I moan as he presses forward, his own pleasured groan making me sink into him deeper. My

feel pleasure mounting, the way it seems to build steam and makes my toes curl

his name with any more

He groans, his arms gripping me tight as if he is dragging me

keep my voice down before he

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

my ear throbbing and my chest burning. It shouldn't hurt this much. I should understand that she means something to

making love to me in the woods. But then again, maybe my mistake is that I assumed we were making love and not

my eyes as

ne?

turn my head away and gently press against his chest, disconnected us on too

he realize what he did? Who he called me and how much it

he asks, concern filling his

I say, clearing my throat.

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