Coldsnap: The Billionaire Alpha's Fated Pregnant Princess (GL)-Chapter 423 - (R18) [K] This Pleasure And Pain Is Very One-Sided

Chapter 423: Chapter 423 - (R18) [K] This Pleasure And Pain Is Very One-Sided

A/N: Decided not to break up the flow, so we have a long(er) single Chapter. Enjoy~

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***[POV: Confused Consent Kyrie]***

Ah. This is actually happening?

Dream could explain the feeling of her skin on my transformed tongue. The scent of wilderness and mint and milk.

"Don’t get brazen, just-"

But it’s the first time I’ve ever licked someone, in this form. I can’t compare to anything real.

I’ll do it again when I’m sure we did wake up.

Even if it’s only a dream, even if everything she said to get me to mark her sounds like an excuse. Even if it hurts just a little to hear her claim she won’t return it.

I bite.

Following instinct. My wolf driving me on, with it searching for the other side where-

Where she has no other wolf in her.

I can feel it when it does. When it starts to grow a link anyway.

To Citra. To MY Princess.

I growl deep and hold her tighter.

Every, single, fiber of my will pushes back at the power it holds. The ’spirit’ as she calls it, that has been part of me for two thirds of my life.

At the wolf in me which the Lunar Goddess we revere placed.

I push it. To get out. For even thinking I will *share* her.

☾ Doesn’t work that way. ☽

> ...Make it work. <

☾ You’ve just totally stopped respecting me in favor of her, huh? All three of you. At least pretend to pray like you used- oh, okay, you’re too mad right now so I’m going to forgive those thoughts. ☽

"...Good."

> TAKE IT OUT. MAKE ME LIKE HER! <

If it was two of us with two of them, I might... but not this way. Not-

☾ I bet the next thing you’ll both want is to make yourselves foxes instead. I guess my world and its rules just was never good enough for anyone. Good luck. I love you, child. ☽

< Hope. >

I feel her arms gripping me tighter the moment that primal consciousness in me... tears away with that final wish for us.

A loss I regret for a second. So quickly filled by the magic of the moment finally striking me.

Something in me can *feel* her. Like I am becoming a part of her. But I know she won’t be a part of me, this way. She won’t mark me back.

"Keep biting. Finish it..."

No idea why she would order me now. There’s nothing else I’d rather be doing.

People will know. Who she belongs to. And I will know. Who I belong to. That is enough.

My teeth all work loose and my tongue cleans the blood running out from what I’d done. And I’m even more sure that I simply... never woke up earlier.

Things are too good to be true.

She just lets me do it, lets me take care of her as her head lolls dazed to the side. Lets me poke my nose into hers and lap a ’kiss’ under her chin.

There’s no way a real Citra would allow this. Without some sort of resistance. Resist...

That feeling of something missing strikes again. Gone. My wolf.

The entity that has... been partnered with so many of my actions. Ever since the year it was granted to me.

How am I supposed to return to a human, now? Staring at my claws, held over her shoulders, is clearly not the answer.

I try to simply *will* it. The way I tried to expand my partial shifting ability... and it actually works.

Though it’s painful in a way it didn’t use to be. Sluggish. Fighting back.

Leaving me panting. Disoriented. Totally unprepared.

To be tackled to the ground. Causing me to smash my head on hard floor.

"Cit-"

Not a dream. My dreams are softer than this.

Her tongue always works its way in gradually in them, after kissing and caressing. Not reaching in instantly... like she lost something down my throat.

With half transformed fingers clawing hungrily at my skin. Painful and sharp, deep and assaulting. Tugging at this *feeling* in me.

I realize quickly, when a wound flayed almost to bone closes in seconds, that this was only the werewolf healing. Thankfully.

It... my wolf left behind its power with me. Control.

Not just some masochism from her actions awakening. Surging well past the *limits* I’d hoped I would stay to.

"Please... I need... distraction. Give me... give me your hand."

Sounds like desperate begging, but she just grabs and takes it. Like a thief.

My left wrist is yanked hard. My mad, lost mate works it between us while crawling over my side.

Panting with sudden whimpers and random growls. Burying her whole head under my right breast like she can’t face me.

Seeming at once to try and be with me - and drift away from me. Chin scraping hard on my ribs as she wallows across them.

Her hand controls mine throughout, pressing against her heat - against her bucking. Her breathing so ragged when she ends up at my armpit.

"...What the hell..."

Only for her lips, her tongue to suddenly trace my tricep. Start to nibble on the first soft flesh she finds a second later. Then bites really fucking hard once.

Curling quickly away in a C shape, she drags me partially onto my side. As she tries to back away from her use of teeth like it burned her.

And also pull my hand back into touching her, like she needed to melt. And I don’t know what to do here.

Very, very different than last time we had sex. She’s acting completely insane from the start!

Writhing, far too out of her wits. Lost in libido like we’d been at it for an hour. She doesn’t even seem in control of herself. Is it the bond... doing this?

"Are you okay?"

A moan releases at the sounds of my voice. She spreads my fingers and presses significantly harder into her flesh.

Facial muscles flex and bloody canines show. Her eyes pry open. Lilac, glowing like a floodlight... mounted on an empty house.

They briefly wobble into a ring around her iris. A core of unlit grey. A fragment of-

"Keep going. Ah, mmm - don’t let me bite you!"

Her motions start to make just a bit of sense, from that order. She wants this release this bad, but is scared of marking me back.

She’s always been so very scared of it. Committing. But this... this isn’t right, is it?

Her words are asking but... this definitely isn’t in her right mind. Not valid consent.

I should stop... I should...

Shove my palm in her mouth. And deepen my voice so she’ll listen.

"Quit."

Talking myself down lasted less than a minute. Only long enough to see her free hand scratch against carpet so hard it tears it up.

To see her sharp teeth that had sunk into my arm sink into her own lip. So hard it bled, trickling onto the floor. And she bites just as savagely now.

"This hurts, Citra."

I say that, and mean it. But I could stand it. Being eaten by her.

Bone by bone, muscle by muscle. Just can’t stand her doing that to herself... or to her son’s nursery. I spent a lot of effort here...

"Okay. Okay. Just let me... handle this. Handle you."

I hope she doesn’t remember the way I said that. It sounded... well, who cares compared to how she looks.

The way she is gnawing on my hand is clearly, completely unhinged. But so am I, for turning proactive. I feel criminal, rolling to my knees over her leg.

Just so I can lock my right arm to pinning her down so she can’t do... what she apparently doesn’t want.

"Why am I trying to create logic for you... when you’re like this..."

This morning... what is this morning. Great dream into subtle living nightmare? How can I enjoy this if she might be ashamed later?

The hand that had been forcefully stressing that I touch her seems satisfied I wouldn’t stop. She presses up at me with breathy sounds around the flesh of my palm. Starts an undulating rub across my stomach.

Expressing slight reward, even in her desperation - and punishment, when she deems necessary. Because damnit, she bites *so much* harder if I slow her pleasure down at all!

I can feel little hand bones shattering and reforming. Like she’s trying to suck my stamina dry a different way.

Yet she claws uncomfortably at the ground if I go any faster. It makes it easy to tell... when she is at a happy medium.

"I feel like I’m being trained."

Like a game. To learn to service her right. But she also doesn’t sound like she is planning this with control.

"Fuu...fuu...hah...mmn..."

Sounds more like she is seeking calm. Breathing in patterns until a short, tense little moment in her core makes her knee reflex.

Slamming up *uncomfortably* vicious into my bare sex and making me grunt. Why am I only getting hurt, here!

Her hands both scramble at my arm where it was touching her. Holding on tight.

Something unintelligible slithers from the tongue under my palm.

Trying to hear her words was a mistake.

She slips away the moment I lose downward force against her face. We tumble and roll toward the floor length window like cats fighting for the ground position.

Somehow... she still ends up under me again after the short wrestle. Flat on her face.

Holding my *used* left up to her nape, with both her hands and their ridiculous grip trying to get me to press on my own.

"Kyrie... please... I’m begging. Hold me down tighter. Be rough if you have to."

She repositions her knees while talking with clarity. Raises her ass in the air, close to my right side... clearly, she has spatial awareness enough to know where my free hand is.

And I do feel a bit of shame. That I am somehow enjoying this enough to barely hesitate.

"Rough?"

A groaning purr releases from her chest when I shove her face closer to the glass. A noise from her that makes me shiver and growl back.

Makes me grip and press down firmly as she lets her own holds go in trust that I will continue whatever my warm, needy mate wants whether she is sane or not.

But she really is, now... my mate. So... this... it should be fine.

"Are you sure?"

She nods under my hold. Whimpers under my question and fingers testing her entrance.

Then immediately begins speaking things I don’t recognize.

Kind of resembles what I think is called ’sutra’? Is she praying as I am about to...

"I almost think you have to be fucking with me at this point, Princess."

"Yes, fuck your Princess."

After that sudden moaning *command* that sounds *enough* like consent for my fraying restraint, the calmer cadence of her mantra continues.

Those syllables I don’t know the meaning of. Along with wiggles and forceful bumps into my fingers.

A sensation that I do know. But have never loved as much as with her.

Insatiable, both of us questing for what she craved. I lose myself in rhythm and need until her core strength works against her for a bit. An orgasm as strong as she is.

"Citra, it’s okay."

Trying to get her eased down, get her slumped across the soft wool rug. Calling her name, calling her every endearment I learned or can imagine. Massaging out the tension and massaging in my love.

Conflicted at what doing this caused. Petting her gently on her throat. Especially around where I bit. In apology, in care.

Until fully light gray eyes peek open at me.

"Shānti... Shānti. Tṛptāsmi, Pyārī."

I’m not sure what she is saying. Herself again. I hope. Clearly speaking again in her native tongue.

I wish I handled more of the India contracts with Lunarizon myself. Shouldn’t have hired out for that region.

But both of her hands seek the sides of my face. Her thumbs brush, alternating... praising the center of my forehead.

"Thank you. It was wonderful."

She seems herself again. But for how long? The pull is supposed to get stronger the longer it is ignored.

Her eyes wince as I stare, but brightly. With wry smile, not physical pain.

"I’m alright. I’ll be alright, Kyrie. I can handle it."

I know her enough to hear the unvoiced ’probably’. Would it be so bad if I just... disregard her next time?

Let her complete it. Let her mark me back.

As she said - what is the worst that can really happen?