The Orphan Werewolf and Her Two Kings

4: A Loving Stranger

King Samuel doesn’t glance at me when he has me secured in his arms. He carries me to the shower and turns it on before letting me try to stand on my own feet. My feet might be lead, but I have no trouble standing upright and comparing our height. He is a head taller than me, which is unusual, as I’m tall for a girl. I’m used to being at eye-to-eye level with men, so I feel tiny next to him.

He doesn’t let me go even if I can stand just fine, but holds me close. I bend my head back so he can rinse my hair without a problem. I try to ignore how close he is to me, but it’s impossible. There is a current sizzling everywhere I’m skin-to-skin with him. It’s so right and wrong at the same time!

“I need to use both hands,” whispers King Samuel before he lifts my hands around his neck.

First, when he is sure I’m holding on to him, does he release me from his hold. He massages the shampoo into my hair and flushes it out several times. It’s methodical, and eventually, I relax. Usually, I wouldn’t trust anyone to wash my hair, but he seems to know how to treat curled hair. His fingers working on my scalp feel divine. When he rinses my hair again, I’m like melting butter next to him.

Even as relaxed as I am, a part of me still hunger for more. My hips lean towards the king, and my core is dripping. I’m not the only one affected; his p***s is hard and erect against me. We have a silent agreement to ignore the attraction.

Only it’s never that easy. There is an attraction between us, and it’s difficult to ignore when he twitches every time a whimper of delight slips out of me. His eyes are dark and full of lust, and I’m too close to pulling him down for a kiss. I close my eyes and try not to think.

When King Samuel is done with my hair, he keeps me secure against him while massaging my body with soap. He doesn’t do it roughly, as in the tub, but he takes his time. I know he is just being thorough, but it makes it worse. I struggle hard against my moans waiting to escape.

His hands feel themselves around from my fingertips, alongside my arms, over my shoulders, and down towards my back. He squeezes me into a close hug as he washes my back, overriding all my senses. Then his hands go lower to my buttcheeks, and he caresses them. My heart flutters as one of his hands finds the crack between my cheeks, and he lets it slide in between. I gasped and opened my eyes again.

My p***y longs for that hand to keep going. Instead, they go up my back again, trail my spine, and over my shoulder to my front. My savior cups my breasts and kneads them carefully in his hands. I’m unsure if he is washing me or exploring my body as my n*****s become hard pebbles, and he pinches them.

“I don’t care how wrong this is; I want him to f**k me! Now!”

I swallow hard, biting my lip. I squirm in King Samuel’s arms, confused and wanting more. His eyes flash, and a growl in his chest vibrates the hand resting there. I open my mouth in shock, and he takes it as an invitation. He lifts me up, cupping my butt, and kisses me with a passion I’ve never felt before. My legs widen, making it easier for him to hold me. He takes a step to the wall so he can lean against me.

Up till now, he has done all the touching, but I’m no longer controlling myself. My hands follow his chest and back up the neck. I can run my fingers through his hair, finding it as soft as I expected. I respond to his kisses with the same hunger as him.

I want to scream with frustration when he slows down. I sense a change in him. The king is no longer desperate to f**k me. Or he is, but he is taking control of himself. He ends the kiss, still leaning against me, panting against my neck. Some part of me wants him to bite and mark me, but I only think that’s my horny side of me speaking.

“I have to make sure all the wolfsbane is gone. I haven’t washed your legs,” he finally says, his voice hoarse with lust.

I don’t want him to stop. We haven’t even started f*****g, and I’m close to an orgasm already. Desperate for him to continue, I lick his earlobe and try to trail kisses towards his mouth, but he sets me down again.

I’m left panting and disappointed against the wall. My heart beats a rhythm of unresponded need as the ruler of my country kneels down to soap my feet and legs. I look down at him, and he’s shaking from the effort. He might have won control of himself for now. However, his nose is close to my core, and my p***y is dripping wet, waiting for him to change his mind.

“You should clean my everywhere to be on the safe side,” I suggest to him when he has finished washing my legs.

He smiles, showing dimples, and takes my hint without hesitation. His hand trails up to my wetness. He parts my lips with a finger, finding my soaked heat waiting for him. His finger slips in without effort, and I moan a little “oh,” slightly surprised by the sensation.

“Lean back,” he orders me as he lifts my legs onto his shoulders. I long to be f****d by him, but I’m not gonna complain about this royal treatment.

The king licks and tastes my nectar. My moans escape me freely as he finds my clit. He slips two fingers in as his tongue concentrates on my nub. I was close to orgasm before he paused the situation. Still, it doesn’t take long before I return to the sensation of being near ecstasy. I grip his hair, not able to think. Then he growls into my p***y, and I become undone. The orgasm keeps on for longer than I’ve ever experienced before. I don’t think I’ll ever land as long as he continues to lick me.

“Oh, please,” I moan, unsure if I begging him to stop or continue.

Still flying high, a new build-up comes faster than I expected, and I’m close to cumming again. The king doesn’t let me go. From the brief smirk on his face, I’m sure he is taking his time to enjoy my taste and moans. When he inserts another finger, I’m a goner again. I let the orgasm flow through my body, squirting in his face as my p***y clamps around his fingers.

This time, he lets me land. Carefully, he sets me down. We both pant for a few seconds before he is ready for more. He kisses me up my stomach and breast as he rises. He takes his time with my breast and sucks on one of my n*****s. I might have landed, but sensations still override my system. I’m not finished.

“f**k me!” I moan, using my nails on his back.

He looks up from my breasts; his black, hungry eyes are back. This man is not used to taking commands, but is happy to listen to mine. He rises quickly and cups my face before he devours my mouth. I answer him with the same passion, tasting myself on his lips.

My hands trail slowly down him, and I find his member happy to see me. I stroke him, letting the head come out from its hood so I can touch the soft tip. The low rumble comes from his chest again. I recognize the sound. It’s his wolf telling me he likes this.

I trail my nails down his length and slap him on the jewels. Some men hate it, and others love it. My king is of the last group, as he loses it and lifts me again, ready to enter me. I’m afraid he will ram his p***s into me, but he controls himself enough to start off slowly.

If I hadn’t known better, I would have guessed if he’s afraid to hurt me. I appreciate it because he is the biggest I’ve ever been with, and one so large might need some preparation on my part. Preparation I haven’t had control over because my head was somewhere else while he fingered me.

He’s not only the largest man I’ve been with, and I’ve seen my share of d***s. He is unique in more ways than one. I’ve never had this kind of connection with my former boyfriends or clients before. It’s magnetic, and just by his first dip into me, another orgasm surfaces.

Starting at a slow pace, he widens my core. When I no longer struggle with his size, he goes faster as he fills me up again and again. I work my hips in his rhythm. My hands wander over his chest, finding his n*****s. I pinch them as he did to me. His growls become louder, and he pounds into me. His balls slap me in the ass, only adding to my pleasure.

I c*m again, screaming freely, but he’s not finished and keeps going. Multiple orgasms hit me wave after wave as he f***s me to oblivion. Right before I can’t take it anymore, his balls tighten, and he spills his seed in me for the second or third time. I clamp around him as he fills me up.

King Samuel grunts from the effort. Neither of us moves. We stand under the shower, taking deep breaths while he is still inside me. His p***s is twitching as if he is getting ready for more. I, on the other hand, am totally exhausted.

The wolfsbane has drained my energy, and even if it’s no longer on me, I’m not up to my usual self. Not to mention losing count of my orgasms. I have never gotten as many in a row before. My body has had enough, and I begin slipping into sleep. I try to stay awake but have nothing to say in this battle.

“I’m so sorry. I went too far,” King Samuel whispers into my ear when he realizes what’s happening.

When his c**k slides out of my p***y, I moan from the lack of him. Even half asleep, I want him there. My body can’t take more, but I desperately want us to repeat what we did. I’m not given a choice, as I’m no longer strong enough to keep myself upright.

The king cleans me up, dries me, and wraps a thick, luxurious towel around me. I keep glimpsing with my eyes when he lifts me up bridal style and carries me away from the room where the madman’s body is lying mangled between glass shards. King Samuel carries me up one or two floors to where the suites are. He enters the door to what I guess is his room. Inside, I hear a woman whisper.

“What in the moon's name was that stunt?”

My savior, and the best lay I’ve ever had, only shush the voice and carry me through another door into a bed. There, he tucks me in carefully. He strokes a loose curl behind my ear and kisses me softly on my forehead. Being taken care of like this feels good, but unnatural. He is, after all, a stranger, behaving like he loves me. Like I’m his mate. Which is impossible.

“Why did you jump through that window?” the semi-whispering voice keeps inquiring.

“The Moonless” is all the explanation the king gives before making the other person leave the room. I fall deep asleep, too tired to think about who the Moonless might be.