The Lycan King's Puppet-Chapter 51: Caught

The sound of her dress ripping in his hands made him wild. Her creamy skin was finally bare to his view.

She had been sweating, he noticed.

He bent and licked a bead of sweat that made to trickle down her breasts.

She arched back as his mouth grazed her skin.

He was near his limit. Fantasizing about having her beneath him never prepared him for the reality of how intoxicating she was.

To his surprise, she helped him pull the gown down to her waist.

Her chemise stood between him and her luscious breasts.

As if sensing his intention, she held up her hand to stop him.

Then, she started loosening the laces that held the thin fabric at her shoulders.

As each strap fell apart, he let out a low, almost inaudible groan.

She tensed slightly when his arousal pressed against her abdomen.

Alas, her breasts were bare to his view. They were just as he imagined - perfectly round, firm and supple. And they fitted his hands perfectly.

Her moan when he cupped one of them made his blood roar like liquid fire in his veins.

He lowered his lips to the glorified orbs. A shiver coursed through her and her eyes drifted closed.

She groan, a sound coming from deep in her throat.

One of her hands clutched his head, keeping him there.

He hadn’t registered the knock on the door - his head was in the clouds.

Until he heard someone cough.

Claire jerked first, pulling up her gown and chemise to cover herself.

Yeren was glad his body was blocking her from Andon’s view.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, barely able to catch his breath.

Claire fixed the straps of her chemise quicker than he could speak and tugged on the ruined dress.

Then without a word, she slipped out from behind him and ran out of the room.

Andon’s gaze followed her as she ran past him.

Everything blurred before him. All he saw was a flurry of peach skirts.

He ran his hands through his hair.

His robe had slid open, exposing his chest.

"Wine?" Andon asked, as if he hadn’t just witnessed his King having his way with his Cupbearer.

Yeren drew in a long, deep breath and exhaled.

"Yes, please. I need it."

Andon quietly poured two goblets and handed him one, watching Yeren over the rim of his goblet as he drank from it.

Yeren flushed and downed the contents of his own cup in one go.

"It was a mistake." He blurted out.

Andon finally let the grin he’d been holding in loose.

"I know. And I won’t judge you."

Yeren felt his shoulders relax.

His hands were still trembling. The wine did nothing to erase the taste of her from his mouth.

"How did it happen?" Andon asked, eyes gleaming.

"She came to resign from her position... and I lost control."

"Resign? She finally confronted you about it?"

Yeren blinked.

"So you knew?"

Andon smirked.

"She mentioned it at the picnic this afternoon."

Yeren sighed, sinking down at the edge of his bed.

"Did she say why?"

"Let’s just say I provoked the reason out of her. But I will not share it with you."

Yeren threw his hands up in the air.

"Why bother telling me if your intention is to leave me hanging?"

Andon’s gaze drifted down.

"She left you in a really bad state."

It took a moment before Yeren comprehended his meaning.

He covered his arousal with his hands, flushing for the second time that evening.

Andon had the guts to smile.

"If only situations were different, Yeren."

"More wine. Let’s drink these unfortunate turn of events away."

Andon held up his hand.

"We would drink all night if we must, but I have something to tell you."

Andon’s tone made him go rigid.

"What is it?"

"Lord Bronan is dead."

He paled instantly.

"How did he die?"

Andon shrugged. "There are many truths going around. I can’t be sure what to believe."

He clenched his fist. Bronan always kept to himself, only offering suggestions and guidance when it was directly asked of him.

"He was an agile man."

"Yes, he was," Andon quickly agreed, "But he was also old."

Yeren glanced at Andon. The other man kept staring at the contents of his goblet.

"What else? Say it all."

"His son, Aldrich, will be joining the council in his father’s stead."

He rose up and went to the window. The cool air didn’t soothe him. The room felt too warm - he felt over-heated.

Harrick Stenly died, now Gordon Bronan was dying as well?

He heard Andon whistle softly behind him.

"Your pretty guest left something behind."

Yeren glanced over his shoulder. It was a lace strap from her chemise.

"Give it to me." He stretched out his hand.

Andon held it back, wagging his finger playfully.

"I don’t trust you to go near her. You’re lucky she didn’t leave her stocking lying around your room - the servants love to gossip."

"What are you going to do with it?"

"Give it to her myself." The devilish man had the audacity to wink.

"I don’t think that would be wise."

Andon tilted his head. "And while I’m at it, I’d give her advice on how to prevent herself from falling for your charms."

When Andon relaxed, he reached for the strap. But, the other man seemed to have foreseen his intention, hence the ridiculous smirk on his face.

"No tricks. Now, about that wine. Shall I pour us wine till oblivion?"

He could only nod. Wine made things easier to handle and less burdensome. But when it came to her, he was unsettled in all states of sobriety.

Andon brought him a full goblet, joining him at the window without his permission.

The edge of the bright moon was gradually becoming red.

The blood moon was closer than he expected.

And now he knew the real reason he dreaded it.

They hadn’t had a blood moon in the past fifteen years.

The Lycan part of him would surface.

Andon patted his back affectionately.

As if gauging his thoughts perfectly, Andon sighed and said, "I’ll be there if it happens."

And they both drank.