ANIMALISTIC INSTINCTSE
scape! Escape!! Escape!!!
He had to keep her close. He had to keep her close! Not letting go!
King Lucien could not think past the animalistic urges that beat in his head. Could not hear past them.
She struggled against him. It angered him she was trying to get away from him. She was not leaving like his sister did! Not like Declan did! He’d do everything to keep her close!
Never! She was not getting away! He was not letting her go!
He palmed her thigh and lifted her leg, baring her to him. Pure animalistic instincts rode him so hard he was shaking with the urge to bury himself deep inside the soft flesh he caged before him. Positioning himself blindly, he bumped against her, but her body restricted his invasion. An animalistic growl tore from his throat and he tightened his hand on her waist and on her thigh.
“Take. Me. In!” The deep guttural growl tore from him as he nudged her opening with his dick again, more roughly and urgently. He breached her a bit, shoving the head of his erection into her.
Danika cried out, the pain rolling through her in waves. It had been so long since he’d taken intimate pleasures from her body, and she’d tried to prepare herself like Baski instructed her, but she wasn’t able to achieve that because the finger she’d gently put inside herself had hurt. She had given up after a few attempts.
Her lean, dainty finger was nothing compared to the king’s hardness. Absolutely nothing.
“Oh, Creator! P-please! Please!” She struggled blindly to pull free from him, unable to think of anything else at that moment.
Another savage growl emitted from his throat and his hand on her waist tightened to an iron grip. He withdrew jerkily, spread her wider for him and slammed into her again with so much force he breeched her body and buried himself to the hilt.
A scream tore through the air that sounded very distant to his roaring ears and her spine arched under his onslaught of savage greed. He pulled back almost immediately and thrust harder. Again and again and again.
Danika felt pierced. She burned from the inside—a very intense, painful burn. She screamed again and cried out against the very uncomfortable feeling as he plunged into her body repeatedly. With each thrust, he tried to go deeper, like he wanted to bind them together. Like he wanted to glue her to him so that nothing separated them ever again.
“Not… letting… go!” He thrusted with each word, harder and harder, his body overcoming over hers completely.
She laid her head on the wall in front of her, yelping with each stroke he took inside her. She felt like he sandwiched her between two hard walls. The tension that emitted from the king’s taut body was too much, and as he took her body so roughly, she felt as if he was owning her soul, too. Animalistic growls of pleasure left his throat with each thrust, his head pressed to her neck, his breathing erratic. Tears slipped from her eyes, her forehead pressed to the wall. Her leg—the one that met the floor—was trembling, unable to hold her. Whimper after whimper tore from her throat.
His hand shot to her hair, and he grabbed hold of it and gripped it tightly. Danika stopped breathing. Her body tensed up and her eyes snapped close as she tried to prepare herself for the searing pain she knew would come when yanked.
She waited, but he didn’t yank on it. Instead, he only held on as he kept plunging in and out of her. Relief crashed through her that he wasn’t pulling on her hair. Her king might not be in there, but whoever was behind her wasn’t intent on inflicting additional physical pain. No, he was only intent on possessing her with his body, like he wanted to brand himself in her. Like he owned her.
He was gripping her so tightly and so close, like he was afraid of letting her go—like he was afraid of her leaving him.
The way his family left him. The voice ghosted inside her, startling her.
Suddenly, Danika remembered Baski’s words. “Please, be patient with him, okay? Don’t struggle. Don’t fight him. If any woman can reach him and draw him out of the abyss, it’s you.”
Could this be what Baski was talking about? Was he truly holding her that way because he was afraid that she’d leave him like his family did? Could she truly reach him?
Danika squeezed her eyes shut, and the fight suddenly went out of her. She stopped struggling and melted into his hard body. Her eyes closed, her head tilted in surrender, and she gave herself to him and waited, her heart pounding.
He kept plummeting her body roughly. His hand let go of her hair and grabbed hold of her breast, which he squeezed roughly. Her fear skyrocketed, and the need to struggle threatened to overwhelm her. She forcefully shoved it down and shut her mind to it. Instead, she only arched back into him.
It went on and on. A low growl—more like a vibration—emitted from his chest behind her, like a hungry panther. Suddenly, she felt some of the hard tension leave him. He didn’t loosen her hand, but his strokes lessened somewhat. It gave her hope and courage to take the next step. She reached behind her and touched him for the first time. She caressed his bare hips tentatively—like a person soothing an angry lion—half expecting him to snatch her hand away or do anything physical to hurt her.
He stiffened. A shudder worked through his body.
She didn’t stop.
A soft hand touching him hesitatingly penetrated his drunk haze. So soft, and oh so soothing.
It reminded him of when he was a young lad on his mother’s knees. His mother would read to him and teach him how to do math. She would praise him and pat the soft curls of his head when he did things right.
The small hand that caressed his thigh, and now his hair, was like a soothing balm to his wounded soul. To his raving mad head.
One by one, his demons began receding. One by one, the dark memories faded. They loosened their fierce hold on him. Only a bit.
For the first time, he noticed his surroundings. Of the soft trembling body he pinned to the wall, thrusting savagely and hungrily into her.
Danika.