Page 73 of Lycan King's Claim
“Since when did you care for traditions, besides the fact we have a baby together says tradition went out the window already,” I remind him.
“We should wait a little longer,” he tells me, but I shake my head.
“Mark me,” I assert, refusing to dance around the topic any longer. The desire to solidify our bond has been burning in me for so long. “Why haven't you?”
His eyes, usually so confident, now flicker with uncertainty. “In due time, Sienna. We need to be certain it's safe.” My heart aches at his words.
“I know you're terrified, Xandros. You think by marking me, you'll break me again. You won't, I'm right here, Xandros,” I tell him, stepping closer. His grip on my wrists doesn't relent, and instead he presses me back against the wall of the shower.
I flinch at the cold tiles when he presses his forehead against mine. “We'll consult the doctor at our next appointment,” he replies hastily, but the underlying tremor in his voice is unmistakable.
“No more delays,” I retort, my frustration evident. “You said that last time. Doctor Rami gave us the green light. It's your fear that's holding us back. Without marking me, you can't reclaim your throne.” His jaw tenses, eyes blazing with a mix of anger and despair when he grips my chin, tilting my head up and forcing me to meet his gaze.
“Fuck the throne! I don't need it. All I need… is right here, with you and Anna.” Tears prick my eyes, emotions threatening to spill over.
While his words are filled with love, the pain of his self-imposed distance is unbearable. “I need you, Xandros,” I whisper, “All of you.” His fingers tenderly caress my face, tracing the path of a lone tear.
“I'm here, Sienna,” he murmurs. “It's not the same, and you know it. Stop rejecting me, it was your rejection that nearly killed us last time, let's not go for round two,” I answer. I know it was a low blow, but why can't he see it's him that saved me, him that waited, him I need?
The tension between us is palpable; the swirling mix of emotions—love, frustration, desire, fear—filling the steamy enclosure of the shower. His deep voice resonates with my own turmoil. “Don't tell me I'm rejecting you when all I've done is love and wait for you.”
“Exactly, Xandros, you've waited. But don't you see? I've waited too. Watched you wrestle with your desires, watch you fight your own mind because of me, enough, stop punishing yourself.” I shoot back, my frustration bubbling to the surface, Xandros shakes his head and lets my hands go, pinching his brow between two fingers.
“We should-” His words cut off when, in the heat of the moment, my hand moves to his arousal. The intimate touch, both bold and defiant, forces a growl from his throat.
“Sienna,” he warns, but I don't relent. Instead, I gently stroke him, eliciting a throaty groan. “I don't want to hurt you,” he murmurs, his voice strained.
“Just as I'm done letting the pain linger,” I reply, meeting his smoldering gaze. Standing on my tiptoes, I bring my lips to his. He hesitates for a moment, fingers gripping the nape of my neck, then surrenders, deepening the kiss with a passion that takes my breath away.
“Please, Xandros?” My whisper is lost in the moist air between us, a plea, a demand, a desperate wish for him to give in. When I kiss him again, the last barriers between us crumble. His response is fierce, as if he's trying to convey every emotion, every yearning through that one act.
My hand continues to caress him, coaxing sounds of pleasure from his throat. Suddenly, he's lifting me, the surprise coaxing a laugh from me. The rawness of our emotions transforms into an urgent need. His hand finds my breast, teasing and squeezing, while his other supports me against the wet tiles. His arousal slides teasingly between my slick folds, teasing us both, before he hesitates again.
“You won't hurt me, and I'm not leaving you again,” I whisper.
“Promise?” he says breathlessly.
Tears shimmer in our eyes, reflecting the weight of shared pain and love. The heat of the shower blurs the line between the steam and the warmth of our bodies pressed closely together.
“Every heartbeat, every breath, every moment, they all belong to you. I promise,” I murmur, the weight of the words settling between us, binding us closer. He swallows hard, his voice barely more than a whisper, “You came back for our daughter, Sienna. You didn't come back for the man who broke you.” I shake my head, letting my tears flow freely. Why can't he see?
“You never broke me. I broke myself. I shattered my own heart, thinking I could ever stop loving you.” I reach out, placing my hand on his wet cheek.
“Foolishly, I believed I could defy fate and the pull of our souls. But the truth is, it's a force that's impossible to resist and one I refuse to any longer.”
His eyes search mine, as if trying to find any trace of doubt. “But I hurt you,” he murmurs, the weight of guilt heavy in his gaze. I reach up, brushing a stray tear from his cheek.
“Just as I hurt you. I won't make that mistake again. Our daughter was always safe with you, even in that state, I knew that, but it took losing myself to realize I was safe too. Your unwavering love, even when I felt lost, became my guiding light. I didn't return for Anna alone; I returned for the heart that never stopped loving me.”
“You won't leave me?” he asks once more, and I smile. “Never, I'm forever yours, my King,” I whisper, my lips brushing his gently. But this time, the waiting ends. He plunges into me, filling, stretching, finally becoming a part of me once more.
“Finally,” I gasp, the sensation of him inside me overwhelming as he stretches me. He pulls out and then slams into me again, and I let out a deep, throaty moan. Our bodies move together in perfect synchronicity, his hips slipping against mine as each thrust moves us closer to an explosive conclusion. I can feel my orgasm building with each movement that pulls us further from reality until all that's left is the feeling of euphoria as our bodies become one.
My arms wrap around his neck and my lips go to his jaw, traveling down his neck to where my mark should lay-a reminder of the freedom I now possess in him. His body tenses beneath mine as I clasp my mouth around the warm flesh of his throat before sinking my teeth into it and marking him as mine—forevermore. A low, guttural moan rumbles from Xandros' chest at the sharp sting that accompanies a claiming bite; pressing us both even closer together until not an inch separates us from each other.
I roll my hips against him when I feel him fumbling for the shower taps, he shuts the water off before striding into the bedroom and dropping me onto the bed. We are drenched, but with the heat in his eyes, I know he doesn't care for us ruining our bed.
The air is thick with our heated desire, the steam from the shower still lingering in the air. Xandros towers over me, radiating a hunger that matches my own. His eyes are pools of smoldering intensity and sweat beads across his forehead, sliding down his taut frame.
