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.
He 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 slick, ready, trembling with anticipation. I hold my breath, waiting for the moment he finally pushes inside.
ERRRNNNN. ERRRNNN.
We both freeze.
The sound of an emergency alert slices through the glorious moment like an entire glacier thrown at our naked, sweaty bodies.
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
My phone screams from the bedside table, a distinct tone that I’ve heard only a handful of times before.
Pure instinct takes over. My foot connects with Aaron’s chest, shoving him off me with enough force to send him sprawling backward. I lunge across the bed toward my phone, grabbing it from the nightstand.
"You’ve got to be fucking kidding me," the Lycan growls, sprawled awkwardly at the edge of the bed, his cock still hard and jutting upward.
My eyes scan the screen, heart pounding for reasons entirely different from moments ago.
"Sorry. It’s an emergency. Can’t ignore it..." The words tumble out automatically as I swipe through the notification.
Silence settles over us as we both process what’s happening. My thighs are still shaking, my pussy still pulsing with unfulfilled need. Aaron looks like he might punch a wall, his erection showing no signs of flagging despite the interruption.
The alert expands on my screen.
[Divine Warning Protocol: Cosmic intervention documented in region 23-BETA and 20-L. Pattern recognition suggests coordinated action against established parameters.]
Damn it.
The specificity of the timing isn’t lost on me. Seven hundred years I’ve been avoiding entanglements, and the one time I decide to indulge...
"Looks like the gods are jealous," I mumble, checking my other notifications. There’s a few texts from Grace, and I frown.
Aaron frowns. "What did you say?"
"Nothing—"
A sharp, authoritative knock cuts through the air. Three precise impacts against the door. The arcana outside is easy to recognize, all golden and pure; Owen.
Jack-Eye flops back on 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 new one.
My eyes drift to his cock—still hard, still perfect, still not inside me. A genuine pang of regret hits.
Owen knocks again.
"I’ll be there in 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 the moment.
It doesn’t take a genius to know why he’s here.
I sigh. "Get dressed. Owen’s outside."
Aaron lifts his arm off his face and looks at me incredulously. "It can’t wait ten seconds?" He props himself up on his elbows. "Five. Hell, I can do it in two."
A snort escapes me despite everything.
But—well, he brought me over the edge, denying himself the pleasure. Maybe I can help him out.
I cross back to the bed, feeling a twinge of guilt at his obvious discomfort. Leaning down, I press a soft kiss to his lips. My hand slides down his chest, over his abdomen, until my fingers wrap around his length. His hips jerk instinctively toward my touch.
"I thought you said to get dressed," he says, but he’s definitely not complaining as he wraps his hand around mine, forcing me to squeeze as he pumps his hips once again.
My lips quirk against his. "This will take less than a second."
I wiggle my way down the bed until I’m bent over his bottom half, sliding his cock into my mouth in one smooth motion. It’s not just physical—I channel arcana directly through my lips, my tongue, my fingers, straight into his flesh.
He’s strong enough to handle it, though... he’ll be forever chasing this high for the rest of his life.
Aaron reacts with a sudden shout, his back arching off the bed. His hands grasp my head, fingers tangling in my hair as he slams his cock all the way into my throat without warning. I feel the pulse of his release, hot and sudden.
Semen is bitter and disgusting, and I never swallow if I can help it.
But, looking at his face through my lashes, seeing the cords in his neck tighten with the force of his orgasm, I’m struck with the urge.
His hands twitch in my hair before falling to the bed.
I swallow, then slide my mouth off his length, looking up at his dazed expression.
"Better?"
"Holy shit," he mutters. "That was..."
"Heaven?"
"Better." His eyes go straight to my mouth. "Let’s do it again."
I laugh. "Get dressed, Romeo."