Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 173

Natasha's POV

This was nothing like the previous heats I'd experienced. This was something else entirely—something catastrophic and all-consuming and absolutely devastating.

A scream tore from my throat—raw, primal, filled with agony—echoing through the small cottage and probably carrying across the grounds beyond.

My vision blurred, the room spinning wildly around me, and I collapsed to the floor. My legs simply gave out, unable to support me anymore, and I hit the wooden planks hard enough to knock the air from my lungs.

If the earlier discomfort had been a storm, this was a hurricane. A tsunami. An apocalypse of sensation that threatened to tear me apart from the inside.

I rocked back and forth on the floor, my arms wrapped around my middle, clutching at my burning skin as though I could somehow extinguish the flames consuming me from within. But there was no relief. No escape.

The fire in my core was volcanic now, lava flowing through my veins, scorching everything it touched. My breasts felt like they were being burned from the inside, my nipples so sensitive that even the air moving across them was agony. And between my thighs... God, between my thighs it felt like I was being consumed by flames, like my vagina was burning from the inside out.

Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the sweat that covered every inch of my body. I clawed at the floor, my nails digging into the rough wood, desperately trying to find some anchor, some way to ground myself against the overwhelming sensation.

"Oh God!" I screamed, my voice breaking, becoming something animal and desperate. "Please, please, make it stop!"

But it didn't stop. It only got worse.

Wave after wave of pain crashed over me, each one more intense than the last. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but scream and writhe and beg for mercy that didn't come.

My mind was fragmenting, coherent thought becoming impossible. There was only the pain, the heat, the desperate, clawing need for relief that consumed everything else.

I pressed my thighs together hard, trying to ease the burning ache between them, but it was useless. Nothing helped. Nothing could touch this.

And then, through the chaos of pain and need, a thought crystallized in my mind with startling clarity:

*I need cock.*

The thought was so crude, so base, that it shocked me even in my current state. But I couldn't deny the truth of it.

*I need the biggest, hardest, longest cock in the world. I need to be filled. Stretched. Fucked until I can't think, can't feel anything but the blessed relief of being completely, utterly claimed.*

The image filled my mind—a massive cock, thick and hard and impossibly long, driving into me over and over, filling the aching emptiness inside me, easing the burning need that was consuming me.

I needed to be split open. Needed to be fucked so hard and so deep that it hurt. Needed to be used and claimed and taken until there was nothing left of me but satisfaction.

The sheer vulgarity of my own thoughts horrified me. What was I thinking? What was happening to me?

I'd never thought like this before. Never reduced myself to such base, animal need. Even during my previous heats, even when I'd sought out the beast and let him take me, I'd maintained some semblance of dignity, some awareness of myself as a person rather than just a body crying out for satisfaction.

But this... this was different.

This heat was stripping away everything—my dignity, my self-control, my very sense of self—and reducing me to nothing but pure, desperate need.

*No,* I thought frantically, trying to hold onto some shred of who I was. *I'm more than this.*

But my body didn't care about my protests. It knew what it needed, and it was screaming for satisfaction with a voice that drowned out everything else.

Another wave of pain crashed over me, and I screamed again, my back arching off the floor, my hands clawing at my own skin hard enough to leave marks.

I could feel myself getting wetter, my arousal coating my thighs, dripping onto the floor beneath me. My nipples were so hard they ached, standing out in sharp peaks that begged to be touched, sucked, bitten.

And my core... God, my core felt empty. Desperately, achingly empty. Like there was a void inside me that needed to be filled, stretched, claimed.

*I need to be fucked,* my mind whispered, *I need a cock inside me. Now. Right now. *

The crudeness of my own thoughts made me want to cry.

I rolled onto my side, curling into a ball, trying to make myself as small as possible, as though I could somehow escape from my own body and the terrible needs consuming it.

But there was no escape.

The heat was inside me, burning through me, demanding satisfaction that I couldn't provide on my own.

And as another scream tore from my throat, as another wave of pain and need crashed over me, I knew with terrible certainty that if I didn't get what I needed soon—if I didn't find someone to ease this burning, aching emptiness—this heat would kill me.

It would consume me completely, burning away everything I was until there was nothing left but ash and unfulfilled need.

"Please," I sobbed into the floor, not even sure who I was begging anymore. "Please, someone help me. I can't... I can't do this alone."

But the cottage was empty, and my pleas echoed off the walls unanswered.