His Lost Lycan Luna (Kyson and Ivy)

Chapter 22

“I am not angry at you, Ivy,” “If you hate the way they treat rogues, why do you let them,” I realized instantly the mistake I made. I just questioned the king’s ability to rule fairly, insinuated he was unfit.

“I … I didn’t mean. You are a good King,” I blurted out in a panic, yet his features never changed. Though I was shocked when he answered.

“I am working on it. Adults know their crimes are responsible for them, we stopped the k*****g of Rogue children, and most packs agreed to even take them in or cast them out once of age. Some, however, did not agree with the laws. But then some packs started k*****g them. Eventually, that also stopped, but then rogue children started showing up d**d again recently; that is why I went to your pack that day. We were investigating your Alpha.” Content property of NôvelDra/ma.Org.

“You want to help the rogues?”

“Yes, they are still part of my rule. Just because some are bad doesn’t mean all are, Ivy. I never agreed to them k*****g rogue children. I tried to prevent it. I will try harder,” He says.

“Why my Alpha, though?” I questioned.

“Because his pack is the only pack that still k****d rogues when they came of age, also I found it odd only two girls were listed in the orphanage as a rogue. It seemed odd,” I nodded.

“Yes, we had a few come and go, but once the new Alpha took over, no one lived. He k****d them all,” I answer him.

“All of them?”

“Yes, eventually, we were the only ones left. I overheard Mrs. Daley speaking of the rogue attacks that she expected new children to come, but they never did,” I answered him. His brows pinch together, and he nods.

“I will have to go back there then,”

“So you don’t have a fetish,”

“No more like an obsession,” He says, cutting me off. I blink down at him before realizing where my hands had fallen.

“Sorry,” I muttered, moving them off his muscular abs. The King places them back. “I like when you touch me, Ivy, so don’t be afraid to,” he whispered, making my eyes dart to his.

He moved my hands over his abs and over his pecs and chest to his shoulders, forcing me closer to him. My palms tingled violently, and I pulled one looking at it. My brows pinched, wondering why they did it. Turning my face back to him, I was leaning on him and his face was barely an inch from mine. His scent was overwhelmingly strong so close to his neck and I inhaled before I could stop myself from pressing my face to the side of his. I only realized what I had done when I felt his fingers run through my hair and I jumped.

“What do your instincts tell you to do Ivy?” The King asked. I couldn’t answer that, my instincts were all over the place, I wanted to touch him, caress him, smell him, lick him. My mind falters at the last one. I shouldn’t want to lick him what a weird thing to want to do.

“What if I told you my instincts were the same as yours, you are just better at suppressing them,” he whispered, and I turned my face to look at him.

“Pardon my king,” I asked.

“What if I want to touch you, smell you, have you close, share my bed with you, Ivy?”

“Sir?” I ask and try to pull away, but he grips my neck and pulls me back close, forcing me to lean against his chest.

“What if I wanted you to do the same? What if I wanted to kiss you?” he wanted to kiss me?

He wants to kiss his rogue servant? Yet the thought as appalling as it sounded, I wondered what his lips would feel like against mine, would the same tingling sensation b**n them.

“Would you stop me, Ivy?” he asked, his lips brushing against mine as he spoke. I swallowed. Could I stop him, was I allowed? Did I want to? I shook my head when he purred the sound making my heart rate slow, like a low thrumming calling me to him when I felt his lips press against mine. A strangled noise left my lips before I gasped as he pulled me closer.

His tongue brushed over my bottom lip before I felt his thumb press on my chin, forcing my mouth to open slightly. My lips burned and tingled, and I didn’t think the sensation could get stronger when his tongue was suddenly in my mouth, brushing against mine and tasting every inch of my mouth.

He groans, crushing me against his chest, and his grip tightens on my hair. His tongue brushed mine again, and a moan escaped me at the taste of him before I kissed him back, loving the taste of him, the feel of him holding me. I pull back against him, becoming light-headed and needing air, and he let me, pecking my lips softly. He doesn’t let me pull away, instead, pulling me down and pressing my head against his shoulder.

I inhale his scent, breathing the smell of him in. He turned his face toward mine and kissed below my eye.

“So you will you come with me tomorrow, or should I organize Abbie? I have no ill intentions with you, Ivy.”

“Yes, my King,” I answered, feeling a little weird that I kissed the man and was now laying on him so casually.

“For gods sakes, woman, call me Kyson, just say it once, please,” he says, pulling away to look at me. I peek at his waiting face.

“Say my name, Ivy,” I chewed my lip, and his eyes darted to them before he brushed my face with his nose and purred.