The Lycan King's Defiant Surrogate

"Absolutely not," I say.

Caleb seems taken aback, his brow raising at first, before lowering dangerously, "You would deny your king?"

"I'm not comfortable with that. I don't want something like that, that could kill someone so easily, not even to defend myself."

"You carry a blade," Caleb points out.

"That's different."

"How?" Caleb asks.

Okay, maybe he has a point. Maybe a blade can be just as lethal as a gun, but it still feels less lethal to me. My blade could be used to kill, but it doesn't have to. A gun, I feel, has the main ability to kill, with all other scenarios falling second.

I read once, when I was back with my pack, that a person shouldn't own a gun if they weren't confident that would pull the trigger. I was as least confident as I could possibly be.

"I will not budge on this," I tell him, and he glowers at me.

"You are the most frustrating woman in existence," Caleb says. "It is to be a gift, to help keep you safe, and you throw it back in my face."

"My blade was a gift, and a good one. A gun would likely just be taken from me and used against me. I have no desire to have it."

Caleb grumbles as he steps back, releasing me. With a foot or so distance now between us, he huffs a heavy breath as he pushes his hand through his hair.

"The most frustrating and the most vexing," he grumbles to himself. Louder, to me, he demands, "If you will not allow me to properly protect you, then you at least undergo self-defense training."

I could agree to that, I suppose. "Very well."

"In addition, you will take part in warrior training, taught by one of my subordinates," Caleb continues. "Learning the moves I teach you won't be enough. You need to train for speed and strength, if you will not rely on the trigger of a gun."

I won't, so warrior training it is. "Fine," I say. I wonder who he will assign to train me.

Caleb considers for a moment more. "You will also accept a large sum into a private bank account in only your name. To that account, I will contribute regular child support payments."

"I absolutely will not," I say, firm. "I'keep telling you, there is no child."

"Do not bother lying to me, Harper. The money will go into the account. If anything were to happen to me, I trust you to take that money and use it to keep yourself and our child safe."

"I wish you would believe me," I say. I've tried everything to make him understand that our one night together did not culminate in a pregnancy or a birth. I have no idea what faulty information he clings to so fiercely that has convinced him to not take my word at face value, even after I have proved myself trustworthy.

Just take the money, Harper."

He's impossible, but admittedly, it does give me some relief knowing I have a backup fund just in case the worst should happen, Not that I want anything bad to happen to Caleb. In fact, I will do my utmost to make certain he lives a long and

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"Now, With that out of the way." Clapping his hands, Caleb walks around me toward the center of the room. "Your first lesson begins now." "My first... lesson?"

"Self-defense lessons, Harper. Come here now."

idea When he suggested self-defense lessons, I had no that he meant to be the one to conduct them, else I might not have so readily agreed.

"Now, Harper," he demands, his voice dropping again.

Not wanting to incur the wrath I have worked hard to calm, I move toward him. Immediately, he steps around me, coming to stand behind me instead. Then, he stretches his arms around me from behind, grabbing my wrists. "Escape this hold."

Typically, in lessons, thamstruction is given before the test. Perhaps here, Caleb means to test my general knowledge before breaking things down? I'm not sure, but my general knowledge is fairly slight.

To defend myself in the past, I know to kick and bite and scream. None of those things I want to do right now with Caleb. Growling, he drags me backwards against his chest so hard that my back crashes against the hard muscle of his torso. Dropping his lips to my ear, he says, "You aren't taking this seriously..."

"I am," I try to say, but the words garble up in my throat, as new emotion comes washing over me.

This close, with my ass pressed against Caleb's front, I can feel the sudden twitch of interest in his pants. Immediately, my own body reacts.

It's been several days since the last time we'd been together. My body has been craving Caleb, waiting for any hint of a promise of pleasure. This is that hint. My knees start to go weak.

Caleb lightly scents the air. His hands drop my wrists, to paw at my hips instead, keeping my ass pressed tightly to the growing bulge in his pants.

"Harper... This is not what I intended."

""Me either," I assure him.

"This will not save you from a life or death situation," Caleb says. His voice pitches lower, dangerous, as he adds, "If you try it with any other man, I will kill them."

"I won't," I say, already knowing that I would never. The only man who has ever had this kind of effect on me is Caleb. With anyone else, I'd be struggling for my life. With Caleb, I want him to hold me closer. I want him to rip off our clothes, press me down onto the bed, and take me. "Caleb..."

He groans in my ear. "You smell so fucking good."

Suddenly, he swivels me in his arms, forcing me to face him. Without further warning, his mouth crashes down over mine, claiming me as his tongue licks inside. As I cling to his shoulders, my knees indeed do finally give out. He holds me up, his grip tightening on my ass. I push my breasts forward, pressing into his hard chest, searching for friction. I hate this bra. And all these other clothes that separate him from me.

Jumping up against him, I wrap my legs around his waist. He growls his approval into my mouth.

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His dick is hard now, pressing into the apex of my thighs. My pussy drips, overwhelmingly wet. Gods, it's like I haven't had sex in ages, ever though it's only been a few days.

It feels like a lifetime ago.

"I need you," I breathe against his lips.

"You do," he says in reply, and starts leading me toward the bed

Before we get there, a knock sounds on the door.

"Fuck off!" Caleb calls.

The knock sounds again, louder.

Caleb, seemingly ready to ignore it, drops me onto the bed, then crawls over me.

The door opens. Caleb, pushing up onto his hands, growls vicariously at the intruder.

Turning my head, I see is Tristan.Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

"Forgive the interruption," Tristan says.

"Get the fuck out, Beta."

Tristan seems apologetic, even if he is unmoving. "King Caleb, your parents are here."