Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals!

Maisie

My lips parted, my breaths turning to hiccups in my chest. The tray in my grasp shook as the man paid her no head, changing the rhythm of his tongue to deep plunges as the second rounded the harness, gathering the warmth of her running down her thighs with his middle finger and pushed it into her back door.

"Maisie," I heard Charlene’s quiet ’psst’, but I was far away, too far away to hear her as the woman’s head fell back on a silent scream, her body jerking to match the motion.

The first sucked on her toes, and she was gasping, stuttering the words, please. Please. Until her words were unintelligible.

And when she came suddenly with a startled shout, the third between her legs rose, fisting his cock, and I found that my breath was held, my heartbeat erratic, as he nudged against her and slammed home without warning.

Multiple groans and moans erupted from different sides of the hall.

Which bade me to rip my gaze away from the stage and notice the open curtains closest to me. A finely dressed woman had her dress down to her waist, her legs spread wide and her eyes dark with lust as she watched the stage. She was seated on a man’s thigh and he was inside her, his arm raising her up and down his erection in tandem with the moans coming from the stage.

On my left, a woman who sat alone rolled her breasts, a buzzing device between her legs. It was the first time I was ever seeing a vibrator, and perhaps it was that thought that made me realize...

I shouldn’t be here.

Ahead of me, a man had a lit candle in his grasp, and I choked on a breath as he poured down the wax on the thighs of another man while rutting into him viciously, uncaring of the flames licking dangerously close to his beard. His lover cried out in pain, but moaned, "More."

Sweet lover of the goddess.

I was horrified.

And shamefully enraptured.

There was no shame in here. No hesitation. No judgement. There was only pleasure. And sex. It was the perfume in the air. The sound on the wind. The vision.

My gaze snapped back to the stage.

The man behind her had his cock pressed against her other entrance, and I watched, transfixed as first who had been sucking on her toes found his place behind the man who was buried in her pussy, spreading his ass cheeks and a snarl erupted as he plunged into him on the same second the man behind her pushed into her.

I wanted to run out of there and never look back. This was pure, unfiltered sin, and just being here felt like I was committing it by proxy.

Yet I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

A hand grabbed mine and I nearly dropped the tray with a startled sound.

There was a waiter whose face was in front of me, repeating his words as I hadn’t heard him the first time. "You available for booth seven? They’ve run out of wine and sadly, the prickly bastard wants female hands on his glass..."

I looked around in wild panic. Where was Charlene? And why was I so far from the entrance? Had I walked all the way here without realizing? Oh goddess, she must have lost me somewhere between all the echoing sounds. I needed to find her—

The waiter was frowning at me. "What’s your name? I haven’t seen you around here before."

His gaze kept flicking back and forth, from my face to the guards stationed at the entrance, and I didn’t know what it was that made me do it, but I gushed, "Veronica. I only started here tonight. Point me booth seven, will you?"

He stared at me for a long moment, and then he thrust the tray into my hands and pointed toward the center of the hall. "Booth Seven. Be careful with the client. He’s a little off."

I nodded, fingers tightening around the edge of the tray as I walked up the velvet steps, past a female couple tangled up in each other’s arms.

With the waiter’s suspicious stare running up my spine, I decided to play the part, if only for a minute. It brought me closer to the center, which was fine, considering my curiosity was currently consuming me.

It wasn’t technically snooping if I was delivering something. Probably.

Though, I would need to circle back and find Charlene before she began to worry

The curtains of booth seven was slightly parted, and I noticed the number etched into the side of the drapes.

I lowered the tray and bent my head, keeping my voice careful. "Your whiskey—"

I stopped.

The air had changed.

It wasn’t just the scent. It was the pressure. It made the fine hairs on my arms lift and my lungs seize halfway through a breath.

My head jerked up to settle on the face and I backed up so fast my heel caught on the edge of the booth.

"I knew I smelled a rat in here somewhere," he crooned.

Sorrel brown hair. Tattooed cheek and neck. Full blooded Lycan. The last time I’d seen that face was weeks ago, during my transition.

What in the goddess name was one of the Queen’s mates doing all the way out here in France?

My body broke out in a sweat as his cold, piercing dark stare dragged over my outfit, a little too much like was dragging unseeing hands over my flesh for my liking, and he said, "You fit right in here, you know. Dressed like a whore. I can understand the appeal. Nice tits. Nice legs. A fuckable mouth. Pink, tight cunt. The novelty hasn’t worn off yet, I see."

I turned on my heel swiftly to get the hell out of there. Strong as I was now, I knew deep down that there was something terribly wrong about this. And I needed to find my mates. The urgency was so strong, I could hardly pull on a breath.

But before I could take a step, a hand grabbed my wrist and another clamped over my mouth when I tried to scream.

I thrashed hard, knocking into the table as he dragged me back into the booth. But no one noticed. Or if they did, they thought it was part of some kink, the show, dismissing us only after a glance.

"You can’t leave yet," he said, tongue darting out to lick the length of my ear. "The show’s only just began. And we have much to discuss, princess."