WOLFLESS: Accidentally Marked By The Devil's Son-Chapter 119: Throbbing

Chapter 119

The first touch was a ghost of a kiss, a trembling, fragile question asked in the heavy silence of the master suite.

Lucian’s lips stayed stone-cold and rigid against hers, paralyzed by a bone-deep fear of what he might become if he truly let go.

He stood there like a statue of ancient marble, breathless and terrified of his own shadow.

Isabella didn’t give him a choice.

She leaned in, her toes digging into the plush mattress as she tilted her head to capture his mouth fully, her resolve hardening. She nipped his lower lip hard enough to draw a metallic tang of blood, her tongue slicking over the small sting before forcing its way past his teeth to seek a dominance she had never dared to claim.

A low, vibrating groan ripped from Lucian’s chest the second the sugary, intoxicating taste of her hit his tongue.

The discipline he’d spent twenty-four hours perfecting died in an instant. His hands, previously twitching at his sides, blurred into motion, catching her waist in a bruising, iron-clad grip.

He bunched the charcoal silk of the shirt against her skin and hauled her off the bed until she collided violently with his chest.

The impact was electric, sending a jolt through both of them.

The pressure against his hidden wounds forced a sharp, pained hiss through his teeth, but he didn’t recoil. If anything, his grip only tightened, using the agony to fuel the rising fire in his veins.

He took the lead with a ferocity that made Isabella’s head spin, his tongue tangling with hers as he tasted the lingering, honeyed sweetness of the grapes she had been eating.

Isabella gasped into his mouth, her hands flying to his hair, her fingers locking into his long, dark locks to pull his head down as if she wanted to merge their very souls.

Every muscle in Lucian’s massive frame was locked tight against her, his pulse thundering so hard that Isabella could feel the rhythm vibrating against her own breasts.

Lucian backed her against the edge of the bed, his mouth never leaving hers for a single second, kissing her like a man dying of a thousand years of thirst.

One hand palmed her neck, tilting her head back to expose her throat, while the other crushed the small of her back until there wasn’t a single inch of air left between them.

His senses were completely clouded by the thick, sweet smell of arousal rolling off his mate in waves.

He crowded into her space until Isabella’s back hit the plush duvet, the air leaving her lungs in a startled puff that he immediately swallowed.

His lips tore away, leaving hers swollen and slick, before he buried his face in the sensitive curve of her neck. His breath came in hot, jagged hitches that scorched her skin. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

Isabella threw her head back, moaning loudly as he nipped at her, his teeth grazing the pulsing vein that drove his thirst into a predatory frenzy.

"Lucian... ah..." she whimpered, her body a live wire of sensation. She felt him move lower, his mouth reaching the swell of her breast through the thin, expensive silk.

"Yes..." She let out a sharp, wet gasp of encouragement. Lucian’s fangs extended fully, throbbing with a hunger that was pure physical pain.

He tore his lips from her skin for a heartbeat, terrified of piercing her, but Isabella was relentless. She arched her back, her fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him back down to her.

"Please," she breathed, the word a shattered plea. The sound broke the last of his restraint. Lucian’s hands slid from the mattress to her thighs, his palms hot and rough against her bare skin.

Since she only had his shirt on, there was nothing to stop the friction from sending her over the edge.

He pushed the fabric upward, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, moving high enough to feel the radiating heat from her throbbing core, though he didn’t quite touch her yet.

Isabella’s legs tangled with his, her heels digging into the duvet as she let out a long, broken moan that echoed through the room.

The sensation of his hands on her thighs and the nipping heat of his mouth against her right nipple made her mind go completely white.

She arched into him, her mind spinning; he wasn’t pulling away this time. Lucian’s fingers were a fraction of an inch from her center, the heat of her skin scorching his palms.

Isabella was lost, her head thrashing against the pillow, her body arching into his every touch with a frantic, desperate hunger.

"Lucian... please..." she gasped, her voice breaking into a needy sob, she had no idea what she was pleading for but in her pleasure-dazed state, she needed more. She needed him skin-to-skin.

Her hands fell from his hair, grasping blindly at the collar of his black silk shirt. She gripped the fabric and hauled him downward, trying to rip the barrier away so she could finally feel his skin against her own.

Lucian hissed out a sound so sharp and agonizing it cut through the thick haze of their arousal like a blade.

Isabella’s fingers stuttered over his chest, catching on something beneath the silk that felt wrong. It wasn’t the smooth, hard muscle she expected.

It was thick, ridged, and felt like raw, mangled earth and the wet stickiness of fresh blood seeping through the fabric, coating her fingertips in a heat that wasn’t from their bodies made Isabella hand freeze.

Lucian’s eyes snapped open, the crimson swirling with a violent flash of pain and deep-seated shame. Before she could even gasp, he was moving.

He tore himself away from her, his weight vanishing from the bed so fast it left the air cold and empty. He scrambled back, his boots hitting the carpet with a heavy thud while his chest heaved up and down in the dark.

Isabella sat up, her hair a wild, golden mess, his oversized shirt falling off one shoulder to reveal her flushed skin. She looked down at her hand, her eyes widening as she saw the dark, wet smear of red staining her fingertips.

"Lucian?" she breathed, her voice trembling as the pleasure fog lifted, replaced by a cold, hollow dread.

He stood by the door in the shadows, his hands shaking as he clutched his own chest. His knuckles were white against the black silk that was now visibly ruined, stained with a large, growing patch of dark crimson.