Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 168

Natasha's POV

His mouth was on mine, demanding and desperate, and I responded with equal fervor, my hands fisting in his hair, pulling him closer. The bond was singing between us, a living thing that demanded satisfaction, that screamed for us to get closer, to eliminate every barrier between us.

Mordred's hands moved from my face to my waist, then higher, sliding over the silk of my gown to cup my breasts through the fabric. Even through the layers of dress and corset, his touch sent electricity coursing through me.

I gasped against his mouth, arching into his touch, and he made a low sound of approval.

"So responsive," he murmured against my lips, his thumbs brushing over where my nipples had hardened beneath the fabric. "So perfect."

His hands moved with more purpose now, finding the fastenings of my bodice with practiced ease. I should stop him, should remind him that we were in a public garden where anyone could stumble upon us.

But I couldn't make myself care.

He loosened the bodice enough to slip his hand inside, his warm palm sliding beneath the corset to cup my bare breast. The sensation of skin on skin made me moan, my head falling back against the tree.

"God, you're so soft," he breathed, his hand kneading gently, exploring. "So warm."

His fingers found my nipple, circling it teasingly before pinching lightly. The sensation shot straight to my core, making me gasp and press closer to him.

"Do you like that?" he asked, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me what you like, Natasha."

"Everything," I managed, my voice shaking. "I like everything you do to me."

He pinched harder this time, rolling the sensitive peak between his fingers, and I cried out softly, my hips rocking forward involuntarily.

"Shh," he murmured, though there was satisfaction in his voice. "We have to be quiet, love. Can't let anyone hear what we're doing."

The reminder that we were doing something forbidden, something dangerous, only made the arousal burn hotter.

His other hand joined the first, both of them now inside my bodice, cupping and squeezing, his fingers working my nipples with maddening skill. Each touch, each pinch, each roll of his fingers sent waves of pleasure through me.

Then he pulled back slightly, and before I could protest the loss, he was pushing my bodice down further, exposing my breasts to the cool night air and his burning gaze.

"Beautiful," he breathed, his eyes dark with hunger. "Absolutely beautiful."

He lowered his head, and I felt his mouth close over one nipple, hot and wet and perfect. His tongue swirled around the sensitive peak before he sucked hard, and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out.

"Mordred," I whimpered, my hands tangling in his hair, holding him against me.

He hummed in response, the vibration sending new sparks of pleasure through me, and moved to my other breast, giving it the same devoted attention. His tongue laved over my nipple, circling and flicking, before his teeth grazed the sensitive flesh.

The slight edge of pain mixed with pleasure made me gasp, my back arching, pressing more of my breast into his mouth.

He alternated between gentle licks and harder sucks, between soft kisses and sharp nips of his teeth, until I was trembling against the tree, my thighs clenched together, desperately seeking friction.

His hand slid down my body, gathering my skirts, and I knew where this was heading, knew we were about to cross a line we couldn't uncross.

And I wanted it. God, I wanted it so badly.

But then—

"Natasha? Natasha, where are you?"

Caelan's voice, distant but growing closer, cut through the haze of desire like a bucket of cold water.

Mordred pulled back immediately, his breathing ragged, his eyes wild. We stared at each other for a moment, both of us flushed and disheveled.

"You have to go," he said, his voice rough. "Before he finds us like this."

He helped me straighten my bodice with shaking hands, his fingers lingering on my skin for just a moment longer than necessary.

"You're such a good girl," he murmured, pressing one last kiss to my forehead.

Then his expression shifted to something more troubled, more guilty.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I shouldn't have... this was wrong of me. You're engaged to another man, and I... I took advantage of the situation. Please forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive," I whispered, but he was already stepping back, putting distance between us.

"I have to go." he said.

And then he was gone, disappearing into the shadows with the same silent grace he'd arrived with, leaving me alone and trembling against the tree.

"Natasha!"

Caelan's voice was much closer now, and I forced myself to move, to step out of the shadows and into the moonlit path.

"I'm here," I called out, trying to make my voice sound normal despite my racing heart and swollen lips.

Caelan appeared around a bend in the path, relief crossing his face when he saw me.

"There you are," he said. "I've been looking everywhere. Are you alright? You look flushed."

"I'm fine," I assured him, hoping the darkness hid the worst of my disheveled state. "Just needed some air. It was getting crowded in the square."

He studied me for a moment, and I wondered if he could tell what I'd been doing, if my guilt was written across my face.

But he just nodded and offered his arm. "Come. I think we've had enough excitement for one evening. Let me escort you back to your chambers."

I took his arm gratefully, letting him guide me back through the gardens.

But even as we walked, even as I made polite conversation and pretended everything was normal, all I could think about was Mordred.

The way he'd touched me. The way he'd looked at me. The way his mouth had felt on my skin.

I knew we'd crossed a line tonight. Knew that what had started in the garden couldn't be undone, couldn't be forgotten.

And despite all the reasons I should regret it, despite all the complications and dangers it created, I couldn't bring myself to wish it hadn't happened.