Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 192

Davelina's POV

He pulled back just enough to speak, milk glistening on his lips. "Yes. God, yes. It's like... like cool water on a burn. The fire in my veins is fading."

Then his mouth was on me again, more urgently this time. He sucked harder, deeper, his tongue flicking over my nipple between pulls. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, a strange mix of maternal comfort and sexual arousal.

I could feel my other breast leaking, milk running down my ribs. Fergus noticed too, and after a few more moments, he switched sides, his mouth closing over my other nipple with the same hungry intensity.

"Fergus," I moaned, unable to help myself. My hips were moving restlessly, seeking friction, seeking relief from the building pressure between my legs.

He made a sound—half growl, half groan—and his free hand came up to cup my abandoned breast, his thumb rubbing over the wet nipple. The dual sensation made me cry out.

This was wrong, I thought distantly. This was supposed to be medicinal, healing. But it felt so good, so intimate, so unbearably erotic.

Fergus pulled back again, his eyes meeting mine. They were clearer now, more focused, but burning with desire. "Davelina," he said, his voice rough. "I need... I need more than just your milk."

I knew what he meant. I could feel his hardness pressing against my thigh through his breeches, could see the hunger in his eyes.

"Yes," I breathed. "Yes, please."

He kissed me then, hard and desperate, and I could taste my own milk on his tongue. His hands were everywhere—cupping my breasts, squeezing gently, making more milk leak out. He broke the kiss to lap at the droplets running down my skin, his tongue tracing patterns over my ribs, my sternum, the valley between my breasts.

"You taste like heaven," he murmured against my skin.

His mouth found my nipple again, and this time when he sucked, his hand slid down my body, pushing up my skirts, finding the wet heat between my legs.

I gasped as his fingers found my entrance, already slick and ready. He pushed two inside, and I arched off the bed, my breast pushing deeper into his mouth.

He established a rhythm—suckling at my breast while his fingers worked inside me, his thumb finding that sensitive bundle of nerves and rubbing in slow circles.

The pleasure built rapidly, spiraling higher and higher. I was making sounds I'd never made before, desperate little whimpers and moans that seemed to spur him on.

"That's it," he murmured, releasing my nipple long enough to speak. "Let go. Let me feel you come."

His mouth closed over me again, sucking hard, and his fingers curled inside me, finding that spot that made stars explode behind my eyelids.

I came with a cry, my body convulsing around his fingers, my breast releasing a rush of milk into his eager mouth. He swallowed it all, groaning with satisfaction, his fingers continuing to work me through the aftershocks.

When I finally came back to myself, gasping and trembling, Fergus was looking at me with such tenderness and desire that it made my heart ache.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked simply.

I nodded, unable to form words. He quickly shed his remaining clothes, revealing his body—scarred and muscular and beautiful. His cock was hard and thick, the tip already glistening with precum.

He positioned himself between my legs, the head of his cock pressing against my entrance. For a moment, we just looked at each other, the weight of what we were about to do hanging between us.

Then he pushed inside, slow and steady, filling me completely.

We both groaned at the sensation. He felt enormous, stretching me almost to the point of pain, but it was a good pain, a necessary pain.

"Davelina," he breathed, his forehead resting against mine. "You feel incredible."

He began to move, slow and deep, each thrust deliberate and controlled. But I could feel the tension in his body, could sense him holding back.

"Don't," I whispered. "Don't hold back. I can take it."

Something in his eyes flared—hunger, need, possessiveness. His next thrust was harder, faster, and I cried out in pleasure.

"Yes," I gasped. "Like that. Please."

He didn't need more encouragement. His hips began to piston, driving into me with increasing force. The bed creaked beneath us, the headboard hitting the wall with each thrust.

His mouth found my breast again, suckling even as he fucked me. The dual sensation was overwhelming, pleasure radiating from both points of contact, building toward something massive and inevitable.

"Touch yourself," he commanded, his voice muffled against my breast. "I want to feel you come around my cock."

I obeyed, my hand sliding between our bodies to find that sensitive nub. The moment I touched it, I knew I was close.

Fergus must have sensed it too, because his thrusts became almost brutal, each one hitting that spot deep inside that made me see stars. His teeth grazed my nipple, not quite biting but close, and that was all it took.

I came with a scream, my body clenching around him, milking his cock as my breast released another rush of milk into his mouth. He swallowed it greedily, his hips never stopping, prolonging my orgasm until I was sobbing with pleasure.

"Davelina," he groaned, pulling back from my breast. "I'm going to—I can't—"

"Inside me," I gasped. "Come inside me. Please."

With a roar, he buried himself to the hilt and came, his cock pulsing as he filled me with his seed. I felt each spurt, felt the warmth spreading inside me, and it triggered another small orgasm that left me trembling and gasping.