Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 164

Davelina's POV

"Not here," I said quickly, glancing back toward where Xavier lay unconscious. "Please, not here. He might wake up, he might hear us..."

Fergus paused for only a moment, then nodded. Without warning, he scooped me up in his arms—still naked, still covered in blood—and carried me deeper into the forest, away from the clearing, away from the bodies and the blood and the evidence of his violence.

He didn't stop until we reached a massive oak tree, its trunk wide enough to hide us from view, its branches spreading overhead like a canopy. He set me down gently, his hands lingering on my waist, then turned me to face the tree.

"Hands on the trunk," he commanded, his voice rough with desire that had been building for months.

I obeyed, my palms pressing against the rough bark, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst from my chest. I could feel him behind me, could feel the heat radiating from his body, could hear his breathing—deep and controlled, like he was trying to hold himself back.

His hands found the remains of my torn dress, and he pulled it away completely, tearing the fabric with casual strength until I was completely naked, exposed to the cool night air and his burning gaze.

I shivered, but not from cold.

"Did you miss me?" he asked, his breath hot against my neck as his hands began to roam over my body—starting at my shoulders, sliding down my arms, then around to cup my breasts.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice shaking. "So much. Every day."

His thumbs brushed over my nipples, and I gasped at the sensation, feeling them harden instantly under his touch.

"How much?" he demanded, pinching one nipple hard enough to make me cry out.

"Every night," I admitted, my face burning with shame and arousal. "I touched myself thinking about you. Imagining it was your hands on me, your cock inside me."

He groaned, and I felt him press against my back—felt the thick, hard length of his erection pressing against my ass, hot and demanding.

"Then why," he growled, one hand sliding down my stomach, between my thighs, "were you alone with him?"

His fingers found me wet—so wet I was already dripping—and he made a sound of satisfaction.

"Fuck, you're soaked," he murmured, his fingers sliding through my folds, teasing but not entering. "Is this for me? Or were you this wet for him too?"

"For you," I gasped, my hips rocking back against his hand. "Only for you. I swear, he's just a friend. I was already planning to go back when those men—"

"I should punish you," Fergus interrupted, his voice dark with promise. "For making me watch you walk away with another man. For making me think, even for a second, that you might let him touch what's mine."

His hand came down hard on my ass, the sharp crack echoing through the forest. The sting was immediate and intense, and I cried out, feeling my face flush with a mixture of shame and arousal.

"I'm sorry," I whimpered. "Please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

Another slap, harder this time, on the other cheek. I could feel the heat spreading across my skin, could imagine the red handprint he was leaving.

"Maybe I should fuck you in my beast form," he mused, his fingers still teasing between my thighs, sliding through my wetness but never quite touching where I needed him most. "Make sure you never forget who you belong to."

"Please don't," I begged, even as my body betrayed me, growing wetter at his words. "Please, Fergus, I'm sorry. He's just a friend, I promise. I was going to leave, I was—"

"You're dripping," he observed, his fingers finally sliding inside me—two at once, stretching me, making me gasp. "Your cunt is so wet I can hear it. You like this, don't you? Like being punished."

I couldn't deny it. My body was responding to his dominance with desperate need, my inner walls clenching around his fingers, trying to pull them deeper.

He pulled his fingers out suddenly, and I whimpered at the loss. But then I felt something else—the thick, blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance, hot and hard and so big I didn't know how he would fit.

"Tell me you want it," he commanded, rubbing himself against me, coating himself in my wetness but not entering.

"I want it," I whispered.

"Louder. Tell me what you want."

"I want your cock," I said, my voice shaking with need. "Please, Fergus, I want you inside me."

"Where?"

"In my pussy," I gasped, past caring about shame or propriety. "Please fuck my pussy. Fill me up. I need it. I need you."

"Good girl," he murmured, and then he thrust into me in one brutal stroke.

The sensation was overwhelming—he was so thick, stretching me so completely that I felt like I was being split in half. I screamed, my fingers digging into the bark of the tree, my whole body trembling with the intensity of it.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. "You're so tight. So fucking tight and wet and perfect."

He didn't give me time to adjust, just started moving—deep, powerful thrusts that drove me up onto my toes with each stroke, that made my breasts bounce and my ass jiggle with the impact.

The bark scraped against my palms, my nipples, but I didn't care. All I could feel was him—filling me over and over, claiming me with each brutal thrust, his cock hitting places inside me I didn't even know existed.

"Lord Fergus!" I cried out, unable to form any other words, unable to think about anything except the feeling of him inside me.