Stolen by the Beastly Lycan King-Chapter 105: Addicted

Rhaegar’s words made her face flush so intensely that tiny beads of sweat formed along her hairline. A wave of doubt crashed over her again, threatening to drown her resolve, but Lorelai couldn’t bring herself to refuse whatever the king had in mind for her. After all, she had tempted him first.

Carefully, he positioned her between his legs, leaning back against the headboard of the bed. His movements were slow and precise as he bent to remove her slippers, leaving her barefoot. She shivered slightly at the intimacy of the gesture, her breath catching when his hands settled atop her thighs.

Gently but firmly, he began to slide his palms upward, lifting the long skirt of her white nightgown with an almost agonizing slowness. When the delicate fabric reached her stomach, exposing her soft, trembling thighs, Lorelai instinctively flinched and whispered his name.

"Rhaegar," she murmured, her voice so quiet and timid that any hint of protest she might have intended dissolved into nothingness.

"It’s too late to feel shy now, princess," he teased. He brushed his lips lightly over her soft blonde hair, a subtle mockery in his tender touch.

But she couldn’t help it. No matter how many times they had shared these moments, every time he brought her this close, Lorelai burned with embarrassment, her cheeks aflame and her heart racing.

"Can we..." she began, her voice faltering as she struggled to sound composed. "Can we blow out the candles first?"

The room was silent for a moment before the king’s low, velvety laughter filled the air. It wasn’t mocking, but there was a wicked charm in the way it curled around her nerves.

"You want to stay in the darkness?" he asked, his amber eyes glinting with a mischievous light. "But then I won’t be able to enjoy your body’s pretty little reactions. And, Lorelai..." He paused, his tone softening but growing more possessive, "this is our last time. I want to burn every second into my memory."

A fresh wave of embarrassment swept over Lorelai, painting her body in a warm, rosy hue. Her body betrayed her with its eager responses, but her heart was just as much of a traitor.

"Haa..." Rhaegar exhaled, his breath hot and heavy as it brushed against the crown of her head. "Close your eyes, princess. And do not open them until I tell you."

The request caught her off guard, her brows furrowing in confusion. She hesitated, unsure if she wanted to surrender to such vulnerability, but her body reacted on its own, nodding almost instinctively. Somehow, it felt easier to obey than to resist.

She gasped softly when his large, warm hand covered her eyes, guiding her trembling lids shut. The roughness of his touch contrasted with the tenderness in his actions, making her heart race even faster.

"Ahh..." Another quiet gasp slipped from her lips as his hand began to trace the contours of her face, moving slowly down her cheeks and over her delicate features.

"Is it better now?" he murmured in a deep voice as the back of his hand brushed lower, gliding over the gentle curve of her shoulders and grazing the hollow of her collarbones. Even in such a simple motion, Rhaegar’s touch was brimming with deliberate seduction.

Her breath hitched, and the flush on her cheeks deepened. She instinctively lowered her head, and the king’s lips curved into a knowing smile. Leaning closer, he licked the back of her neck, the sensation sending a shiver down her spine.

"With each passing moment, I discover more of your wonderful sides, Lorelai. I’ve been such a fool. I should have come to you every single day. That way..." His lips hovered near her ear, his tone growing darker, more possessive. "Perhaps I could have made you just as addicted to me as I am to you."

"...Don’t say that."

Instead of acknowledging her protest, Rhaegar leaned in and bit the back of her neck lightly, making her gasp. Lorelai quickly pushed his face away, her cheeks burning. She still remembered the last time he’d left his mark so boldly—she had been forced to wear high-necked dresses for days just to hide it. She wasn’t eager for a repeat.

But Rhaegar simply smirked, catching her protesting hand in his. Without a word, he licked her fingers, his warm tongue sending a jolt of heat through her.

"Rejecting my last souvenir?" he asked, feigning hurt. "I’m wounded, Lorelai."

Her blush deepened as he cupped her face, brushing the tips of his fingers gently over her trembling eyelids. "Close your eyes. I didn’t say you could open them yet."

With a quiet sigh of surrender, she let her eyelids fall again, her breath unsteady as his touch lingered on her skin.

"Thanks to you, I’ve realized something," Rhaegar spoke again. "I am a very jealous, possessive man."

Lorelai’s lashes fluttered, the confession catching her off guard, but she dared not open her eyes without his permission. "You are?" she whispered with uncertainty.

It felt almost impossible to believe.

Rhaegar was always so composed, so effortlessly confident—a man whose striking good looks and magnetic presence left women spellbound wherever he went. Even those who tried to deny their attraction to him couldn’t help but steal glances, ogling him from afar. How could someone like him feel jealous? How could he, of all people, harbor such possessiveness?

"Yes, I felt the same way that day in the forest," he replied, his voice low and filled with passionate intensity.

With her eyes still closed, Lorelai’s senses were heightened, every word he spoke vibrating through her like a distant storm. He pulled her closer, and the sensation of his touch sent a shiver down her spine once more, her toes curling involuntarily.

"When I saw you give that black hunting dog your ribbon," Rhaegar continued somewhat bitterly, "my blood boiled so fiercely I thought it might burn me alive."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. "I am jealous of every living creature that receives even a fraction of your attention."