Bride of the cruel Lycan

LI

rd I said. I wobble on my feet slightly, "I was looking for the bathroom." He takes a step toward me, so close I almost take one back. "Why did you come here?" "Because tomorrow is my wedding." It's like word vomit, and I realize too late what I'd said. A dark glint deepens the grey of his slanted eyes. "The plan was to enjoy a bachelorette party of one?" It's almost like an insult, but goosebumps surge at the realization that he'd been paying enough attention to me tonight to have known that. And the feeling is like deception, because the word vomit flows freely. "The plan was to get wasted and give away what my future husband and his late father would want from me the most." I say. "And what might that be?" ​"My innocence." ​He cocks a brow, "Your innocence?" ​"Sex." "Sex." He deadpans. "I'm a virgin." I say, "And I don't want to be one anymore. Not for him. Not for anyone." And then seemingly having lost interest, he turns away. It feels like the most effortless dismissal ever, and my pride can't take it. "Are you interested?" I blurt out the question before I can think it through. He pauses, but doesn't turn around. "Interested in what?" "Sleeping with me." The alcohol keeps the warmth from reddening my face. A low, dark breath of amusement comes from him. Over his shoulder, he says, "I thought you were leaving." My retort comes fast, "Till you said to wait." He turns to face me once again, a pull between his dark brows, "You're drunk." "And you're still listening." One stride and his chest brushes mine, his arm snaking around me and springing a surprised gasp from my throat. "If you came here looking for a gentleman to turn you away," His eyes burn bright with intensity, "Know that you won't get that from me." ​A breath slips from my parted lips. A feeling of exhilaration runs through me the moment his mouth comes in contract with the skin of my throat. His words are rusty, when he grates out, "There'll be no one to hear you cry out tonight. No one but me." His lack of hesitation, the disregard for any finesse or build up, leaves me utterly speechless. His teeth sink into my neck, and a gargled cry falls from my mouth, because at the exact same time, his large paw cups me right over my jeans. It's so bold and erotic, somehow exactly what I'd expected when I'd taken those steps and solidified my choice earlier. In the exact same position, he moves us toward the bed. I'm light on my feet, maybe because the weight of my body is mostly being levitated by the grip between my legs. The rough scrape sends shivers down my spine as he drags his fingers away, letting my body drop till my ass bounces off the soft foam. Two stuttered heartbeats pass, before I see the slow, menacing pull of his mouth upwards. Mild satisfaction runs through me at his approval, and I'm unable to figure out why. But the dilemma is tossed out the window as soon as he tugs up the material of my shirt. I lift my arms up, letting him pull it freely from my body. And then I'm sitting below him with the swells of my breasts itching to spill from the cups of my bra. Every caress of his eyes has them tightening within the fabric, begging for some sort of limelight. I inhale a slow breath to ground myself. He's barely touched me, and I'm already uncertain on whether or not I'll be making it out of this in one whole piece. Towering over me, six foot four and brimming with an edible kind of charisma, I realize that never have I ever felt so small in my entire life. The situations that led right up to this moment almost seem trivial when compared to the reality of the fact that right now, it feels like I'm submitting my very being to the whims of the man standing before me. It's like I've willingly signed off a contract more binding than my wedding tomorrow--Just for the duration of one night. His hand reaches out, his thumb sweeping along my bottom lip. Pulling it down, away from my teeth, letting it plop back in place. It's delicate, the way his hand then caresses my jaw, reaching behind my neck as his voice softens, "Lay back." I obey the soft command without preamble, eyes meeting the roof as my back hits the bed. A dip forms beside my ribs, where his palm sinks into the mattress as he hovers over me. The other traces up my denim clad thighs, slow over my hips, as he pops the top button out of place. Butterflies take flight, disrupting my insides as his caress continues up my bare stomach, his rough hand makes it feel a lot better than it should. And then his grip closes over one bra cup, squeezing firmly. Not even a second later, he folds down the cup and takes one swollen bud into his mouth. Our bodies merge as my spine curves upward, pleasure coalescing inside me like molten lava. The hot pressure is all I can process, every other notion slammed shut behind a wall of lust. He sucks greedily, but it's over too soon, before I can loose myself in it. And I blink my eyes open in confusion, just as he pulls away. The disappointment slowly fades though, giving way to anticipation as he pinches my jeans and the band of my thong together, pulling the fabrics down and off my legs in one fluid motion. Cold air hits my bare flesh, and that's when the daunting reservation rears it's ugly head. The lighting is low, but bright enough to enhance every dip and imperfection. I should know better than to let my insecurities get the best of me. ​Especially here with a man I don't know and will most likely never see again. There's no argument he's a well experienced male, no less with women eager and just as well bred to give him the type of pleasure he wants. I pale in comparison. "You're nervous." I school my features instantly, like it mig