Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals!

I was panting. I was hot. My thighs opened wider. My hips chased the feeling of his fingers.

He stopped stroking me. "Answer me."

I didn’t want to. I was still mad. He called me a slut. He degraded me with his insults. I should’ve kept quiet. Or maybe told him the truth. I should’ve remembered the words from that goddessforsaken book.

Never say the things you don’t mean.

But I hated how much he could unravel me with a single touch. I hated how much under my skin he had gotten. I hated him.

So I looked him in the eye—his still pitch black eyes—and said, "Cole does it better than you."

His expression shifted from angry to murderous.

I knew then that I had crossed some invisible line and obliterated it. I didn’t know what it was. But there was no coming back from it.

Soren’s fingers plunged inside me.

My mouth fell open on a ragged breath. My body tightened instantly, rejecting the brutal invasion and Soren hissed. "Tight," he groaned, and pushed in deeper, his knuckles pressing against my outer lips, stretching them.

My inner walls clenched around his fingers in a hot embrace I couldn’t control and my eyes rolled back in my head.

I didn’t know it could be like this. Oh god. Oh god.

He moved them in a pistoning motion, in and out. The sound was obscene, a wet, squelching shlick each time he withdrew.

His body arched over mine and he brought his hot, minty breath to my ear as he thrusted even deeper in a rhythm that was driving me insane.

"You will tell your lover the next time you meet him," Thrust. My breasts bounced. My nipples ached. "That I was inside you first." Thrust. "And you came around my fingers like the filthy thing you are."

It hurt.

But he was touching something—hitting a spot inside me that made tears fill my eyes. Or maybe I was crying because not even Cole’s abuse hurt as much as Soren’s words. I wasn’t sure.

But I knew what was coming. I knew the pressure building in my abdomen was oscillating. I knew he was working me in a frenzy, driving me towards that sharp point, just so he could drive home a point.

That I was a slut for coming for him, right after coming for Cole, even if that was far from the truth.

I scrambled back, trying to stop it. But my hips undulated, my insides clenching tighter around him like a suction point.

"Please," I said, unsure what I was begging for.

He pinched my nipple. "What, Adams? You want my cock inside you, too?" Thrust. "The pup’s limp dick wasn’t good enough for you?"

My eyes snapped open. I opened my mouth to tell him he was a pig. And I hated him. And he could go and rot in hell for all I cared.

But his fingers curled inside me and my body began to shake. The coil in my belly snapped.

Pleasure crashed over me without warning in a violent, convulsive wave. I cried out, body jerking up to his as his fingers slammed into me harder, faster, riding me through the rapid spasms until I was a crying mess against him.

And without pulling out of me, he grabbed the edge of my ruined ponytail, yanked my head back forcefully and crushed his face to my neck, fangs bared over my pulse.

He was going to mark me.

I knew this. I knew I couldn’t let it happen. But I couldn’t move. My body melted for him, wanting it.

And I realized with horror that I wanted Soren more than I’d ever wanted anyone or anything in my life. I wanted his bruises on my skin. I wanted his teeth in my flesh. I wanted him between my legs. I wanted him in my mouth in the same exact way I had envisioned myself at Quinlan’s knees. I wanted more. I wanted this wild, wonderful feeling never to end.

"You would let me do it, wouldn’t you?" He whispered against my neck. "If I wanted to mark you and fuck you like filth against these floors, you would let me."

Then he wrenched himself away from me, body trembling, leaving me cold and naked in the damp earth.

When he glanced back at me, his eyes were violet again, but they were so dark, they looked black. "You disgust me."

His words were like a cold bucket of water dumped over my head. I clutched my naked chest and recoiled into myself. A sob started deep in my stomach and I couldn’t breathe.

Then he turned, ripped his shirt over his head and threw it at my feet. "Put it on," he said, voice rough in a harsh command. "And get the fuck out of my sight."

I stood, and fell. My ankle was hurting horribly.

He glanced down at my foot, made a sardonic noise in his chest and ran his fingers through his hair. "If you wanted someone to carry you, then you should’ve spread your legs for a gentleman."

The sob was in my chest now. I was shivering. A noose curled around my neck tighter and tighter. I had so much to say, but I didn’t trust that the moment I opened my mouth, the sob wouldn’t come out.

So I turned on my bad heel and began limping home, abandoning his shirt in the ground.

But he suddenly blocked my path with that eerie speed, yanking my arm and shoving the shirt into my grasp. "Wear it, Adams, or I’ll wear it for you. And I will not be gentle about it," he snarled.

Tears leaked down my chin. Cum ran down my thighs. The tears rolled down faster.

I put on the stupid shirt. It came to fall around my knees. I hated it. It smelled like him. He smelled so good, my insides quivered. I hated him.

Pleased that he had terrorized me enough, he moved, grabbed Cole’s unconscious body off the ground like he weighed nothing and threw him over his shoulder.

"What will you do with him?" I asked, despite myself.

I might have hated him, but I didn’t want a war started on my account.

But Soren misunderstood why I asked the question. His lips sneered with displeasure. "Don’t worry, Adams. I won’t kill your little boyfriend. In fact, I’ll ensure he gets home in one piece so you can sneak out and let him fuck you up against a tree again."

And then, he was gone.

The sob finally escaped me. It was ragged and bitter and angry.

I began the long walk back to the mansion. Every movement hurt my ankle.

When I reached the mansion, the sun was rising to the skies. My ankle felt better, but I barely took notice of it when I passed the Lycans in the living room. The tension and hostility in the air was over the roof.

I could tell that they knew. Somehow, in whatever way they communicated, they knew, and the word they didn’t say echoed in the space violently.

Slut.

I swallowed another angry sob as I walked up to my bedroom, feeling their angry gazes dig into my spine. The second the door slammed shut behind me, I tore off Soren’s shirt and chucked it into the trash.