Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals! novel Chapter 96

Chapter 96: 96. Transitioning XIII

I hadn’t noticed the heat had begun to ebb in the last few days, until it knocked into me again as I tried to kiss Mercer, like a sledge hammer.

It was so much worse than it was on the first day of the transition.

It was like the tipping point of a fever, right before it broke.

The heat wasn’t just between my legs anymore. It was everywhere. Under my skin. In my bones. A living, molten thing that made me want to claw my own flesh open just to let it breathe. Every heartbeat sent another pulse of pure, agonizing need through my core. My clit throbbed so hard it hurt.

That word had returned again, with more intensity than last time. Breed.

I rolled my hips harder, grinding myself against the thick bulge in Mercer’s pants. Once. Twice. Three times. My nails dug into his shoulders as I whimpered, the sound broken and pathetic. I couldn’t stop. I didn’t know how.

"Mercer..." His name came out slurred, almost a sob.

His breath hitched, a strangled groan escaping his lips as his hand clamped down on my thigh with bruising force.

But it wasn’t enough.

I shoved my hand between us, yanking his cock free with zero grace. The second I felt that hot, heavy length in my palm, I moaned like I’d been struck. Thicker. Hotter. Mine.

I needed it inside me. Now. Deeper than deep. I wanted it battering my cervix. I wanted him to flood me until I was dripping for days.

I heard a voice in my mind. She was telling me to climb off him. And I truly didn’t want that. I thought she was an idiot and needed to shut up. Her voice was always there. It was suddenly louder now than it had been before.

I ignored her.

"Put it in," I gasped, voice wrecked. "Please—please—I can’t—"

Mercer said something, rough and commanding, but the words barely registered.

I was already lining him up, slicking his head through my dripping folds. The moment his tip pressed against my entrance I sank down hard, impaling myself in one desperate thrust.

The stretch tore a strangled cry from my throat. Pain and pleasure detonated together, but the heat only worsened.

I could feel him pressing against my womb, and it still wasn’t enough. I needed him deeper. I needed him to rearrange me.

I started riding him frantically. My hips slammed down again and again, chasing that unbearable ache. Every time he bottomed out, my eyes rolled back. My walls fluttered and squeezed around him like they were trying to milk him dry.

"More," I whimpered. "Deeper—oh god—"

The words spilled out without thought. I didn’t care how they sounded. I just needed his cum pumping into me. Thick. Hot. Enough to knock me up.

No, that voice said again. She sounded smart. Get the hell out of my body. Partnership, remember—oh. Oh. My. God.

Mercer had scooped my ass over the edge of the counter and was bouncing me up and down his cock with reckless abandon. I screamed, legs shaking. I clawed at his chest, twisting his nipples, biting his neck, anything to make him lose control the way I already had.

"Your scent, your lips, your touch. It’s all I think about. Incessantly." He slammed in so deep, I saw the entire body of constellations behind my eyes. "The way you’ve crawled inside my head ..." Fist tangled in my hair, he tugged my head back and dragged his teeth across my throat, the threat of a bite quickening my pulse. "I crave every part of you with an ungodly voracity."

I was sobbing against his shoulder.

More. I needed more. The heat kept rising. Higher. Meaner. I wanted to rip my skin off. I wanted him to fuck me through the floor. He filled me up but I felt empty. I wanted him in my ass. My mouth. I wanted it everywhere.

I felt violent. Unbreakable. Insatiable. His hand was on the side of my neck, then around my throat, half cupping my face. His eyes bore into mine. He watched every nuance, every detail of every expression, as if his existence depended on it. Mercer fucked with the single-minded devotion of a dying wolf hunting the goddess.

I grasped the edge of the counter to meet his thrusts, to drive him up until I could feel him all the way to my throat, but the counter cracked against my grip.

Mercer lifted me off as the crack extended and we both watched the counter—for the lack of better word—crumble.

"That’s new—" Mercer was saying, but I pushed my tongue past his lips, and sucked on his tongue.

Mercer spiraled.

My spine slammed into the wall and it broke. I hardly cared or noticed as he broke the kiss, dipping his head to sink fangs into my nipples.

More. More. Goddess, I could die happy like this.

We knocked down the kitchen door. We broke the island. My vision blurred red at the edges and then white.

I felt Mercer pause, felt his hands clamp down on my thighs with bruising strength, but the words he growled against my lips sounded distant, warped, like they were coming through water.

"May—fuck, this soon? Fuck-fuck-fuck," Mercer cussed, turning us again as he thrusted even deeper, like he was trying to write himself into my blood, my DNA.

Jericho’s breath hitched when I clambered over to him and sank to my knees between his thighs.

The gentle clang of his belt falling open sent a shiver through me. As soon as I had his pants undone, I wrapped my hand around his shaft and licked him from base to tip.

Jericho pulled in a strained breath, but he didn’t let it out. He didn’t make a sound as he watched me with amber that had grown dark and hazy.

I laved him with my tongue, giving small licks as heat bloomed in my stomach, moving lower, in a wave that made me squeeze my thighs together to ease the ache.

"Fuck," Mercer groaned somewhere behind me as I tried to take Jericho deeper into my throat and gagged on him.

"I told you so," Quinlan mused, voice strained.

Jericho’s fingers curled into the sofa, claws punching into the leather. His expression remained closed, but his hips twitched forward every time I took him deeper.

I ran my tongue across his crown and then finally slid him deep into my mouth, bringing my half-lidded, lust-filled gaze up to his.

A soft cuss escaped Jericho lips and his hand moved to grasp my hair as his hips arched off the chair.

The movement pistoned him so deep up my throat, tears began leaking from my eyes.

He swore, his wrist snapping forward as he held my face and slowly slid out, before sliding in deeper. It didn’t matter how much enthusiasm I had, I could only take in half of him.

But he didn’t seem to mind that at all, pulling back whenever he reached the back of my throat. I remained still as his hands slid into my hair lovingly, controlling the bob of my head.

Harsh breaths filled the room. My heel pressed against my clit as I squeezed my thighs together. Somewhere behind me, fabric hit the floor.

Jericho grasped my cheek. "I’m going to come, malyshka. Can I?"

My insides tightened and I barely managed a nod before he growled, eyes falling shut, and thick ropes of cum poured down my throat.

It was a strange feeling and it was reflexive to both swallow and then, gag, but Jericho hissed, "All of it, Maisie."

I swallowed, and licked my lips.

Jericho tugged me off him, only to bring my face closer, so he could kiss the tears still rolling down my chin. "You’re doing so well. I want to taste you."