Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 179

Natasha's POV

The next day. I woke slowly, my body heavy and sated in a way I'd never experienced before. Every muscle ached pleasantly, a delicious soreness that reminded me of exactly what had happened the night before.

The sex had been... incredible. Beyond incredible. Transcendent.

The heat had transformed the act into something primal and overwhelming, every sensation magnified a hundredfold. The pleasure had been so intense it bordered on pain, so all-consuming that I'd lost myself completely in it.

And God help me, I was already addicted to it.

A shameful, wanton thought crept into my mind: *I wish I could be in heat every single day. I wish I could experience sex like that for the rest of my life.*

The thought shocked me with its depravity, and I quickly pushed it away, my cheeks burning with embarrassment even though no one could hear my thoughts.

But I couldn't deny the truth of it. Last night had awakened something in me, something hungry and insatiable that I wasn't sure I'd be able to control.

I took stock of my body, assessing the damage. The burning pain that had consumed me yesterday was gone, replaced by a different kind of heat—still present, still demanding, but manageable now. Pleasurable, even.

My abdomen twisted with a deep, aching desire. My sex was swollen and wet, throbbing with need. My breasts felt tight and sensitive, my nipples hard and aching to be touched.

The heat was still there, churning inside me, not yet strong enough to trigger the agonizing spasms of yesterday, but impossible to ignore.

I was hungry. So desperately hungry.

Not for food.

For him.

I was lying on my side facing the wall, and I slowly turned over, careful not to make any sound, stealing a glance at the King.

He was lying on his back, his hands behind his head, his eyes closed as he stared at the ceiling. I couldn't tell if he was asleep or just resting.

My gaze traveled downward, and I bit my lip, my eyes burning with hunger.

Even in its soft state, his cock was impressive—so large and long, like a pillar of flesh. Thick and heavy, resting against his thigh, the head partially visible beneath the foreskin.

I suppressed a moan, pressing my thighs together tightly, trying to contain the burning desire coursing through me.

*I want it so badly. I want it inside me.*

I glanced up at his face again. His eyes were still closed, his breathing deep and even.

My hand moved almost of its own accord, reaching toward him. My fingers made contact with his soft, silky skin, and I held my breath, waiting for any sign that he was waking.

He didn't react.

Emboldened, my touch became bolder. I traced my slender fingers along his soft length, marveling at its size and smoothness. As I continued to explore, I felt it twitch under my touch, beginning to swell and harden.

Growing larger. Thicker. Harder.

I suppressed another moan, my throat dry with desire. My other hand moved to touch myself, continuing to stroke him while gently playing with my own sensitive flesh. I circled my clit with my fingers, a jolt of pleasure shooting through my entire body, making me gasp audibly.

His mushroom-shaped head was large and enticing, the memory of how it had felt inside me making me burn with renewed need.

And his knot...

I let out a soft whimper at the memory. The sensation had been intense, almost uncomfortable, but I was already addicted to it. The way it had stretched me impossibly wide, the way it had locked us together, the constant pressure against my most sensitive places...

His cock now stood proudly erect, fully hard and pulsing with life. It was beautiful. Breathtaking.

I stole another glance at his face. No reaction. His eyes remained closed.

Surely I could—maybe—sit on it, right? Could I dare to pleasure myself while he slept, completely unaware?

I needed to feel him inside me again. Needed it with a desperation that bordered on madness.

I carefully rose to my knees, then slowly straddled him, my movements cautious and deliberate. The sheer size of his body forced me to spread my legs wide to accommodate his broad frame. I settled onto his strong thighs, a rush of sensation flooding through me.

This position felt good. So good.

Should I do this?

Probably not. The King might wake confused and disoriented. Or angry.

The thought of his deep, authoritative voice scolding me—that stern, commanding tone—didn't frighten me. It sounded... enticing. Or perhaps he would use that regal, majestic tone, severe and powerful.

I liked that idea too.

He was beautiful, almost impossibly so, sleeping so close and so vulnerable. A fierce possessiveness seized me.

*He's mine. Mine!*

All my reservations vanished. I felt bold, hungry, and reckless.

I rose up again, positioning myself over his erect cock, my breath catching as the tip lightly touched my swollen entrance. I slowly began to sink down onto him, his head parting my wet lips.

A cry escaped me as that massive head pushed into my slick entrance. The sensation was overwhelming—a delicious stretch that made me feel complete. I almost wanted to cry at how good he felt.

His eyes opened.

I froze, my breath catching. The King's gaze was sharp and alive, burning with heat as it locked onto me.

Caught.

Our eyes locked, and I felt like a mouse trapped in a snare.

When had he woken? How long had he been watching me?

What should I do now? Stop and get off him?

But I didn't want to stop.

My hips moved involuntarily, grinding against him, because I couldn't control myself. Rocking on him with just the tip inside me, moaning lowly as pleasure built.

"Look at you," his voice was low, laced with seductive reproach. "Such a little slut. You don't even care that I was sleeping. You're so desperate for it that you'd steal it. Isn't that right, young lady?"

Shame and embarrassment flooded through me. I lowered my head, nodding stiffly, my cheeks burning with heat.

"You feel ashamed, but that didn't stop you from acting on it." A smug smile played at his lips.

"Stop."

"Please..." I cried out, desperately grinding against him. Oh, it felt so good. "Stop. Now."

It took every ounce of willpower I possessed to obey. I held still, my eyes welling with tears.

"Good girl. Look at you, trembling with the effort of holding that position, keeping yourself from sinking down. You want it so badly."

"I—I want it," I whispered, my voice shaking with need. "Please let me have it."

"What do you want?" The King watched me like a hawk, his gaze sweeping over my flushed face, down to my spread legs... focusing on that intimate point where we were barely connected. His eyes darkened. "Say it."

"Your cock," my whisper was barely audible.

"Beg me."

I whimpered softly, my arms sweeping across my face, burying my eyes in the crook of my elbow, shaking my head.