The Villains Must Win-Chapter 186: Lyander Wolfhart 36

[WARNING! Mild Mature Content ahead!]

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She didn’t hear his approach. freewebnøvel.coɱ

There was no rustle of movement, no padding of paws against the forest floor. But suddenly, she felt him.

His massive body pressed lightly into her back, heat radiating from him like fire. His thick fur brushed her spine, her hips, her thighs, stealing the air from her lungs in a sharp exhale.

Liora shuddered violently.

He didn’t retreat.

Instead, he leaned in, rubbing the length of his side against her, slow and deliberate. His body was tall enough that his weight pressed along her full frame, from her back down to her calves. She gasped at the contact—soft fur and raw power mingling, overwhelming her senses.

Then he began to circle her, still touching her, marking her skin with every pass. His presence was inescapable. His scent clung to her now, wrapping her in something primal and unmistakable.

A claim.

A promise.

And a warning to the world.

She was his.

But there was more than just Lyander’s usual addictive scent in the air now. Something richer . . . sharper. Even Liora, who didn’t have heightened senses like a werewolf, could recognize the shift. It rolled through the atmosphere like a storm front.

Pheromones. Male. Potent. Raw.

He was no longer just aroused.

He intended to mate.

The thought struck her with electrifying clarity, and her body responded as if it had been waiting for this moment all along. Heat flooded through her, radiating off her skin in thick, invisible waves. Her breath hitched. Hormones she didn’t know she could produce pulsed from her in response, and between her thighs, wetness pooled instinctively.

Lyander’s nostrils flared as he took in her new scent—his chest rising sharply before he exhaled with a low, primal groan that rippled down the length of his powerful frame.

Liora’s fingers were still tangled in his fur as he brushed past, his body moving like liquid power around her. Every inch of him screamed control, dominance, readiness.

He circled her again, slow and deliberate, until he reached her side.

"Open," he commanded, his voice deeper than before—an order layered with heat and authority.

Liora blinked.

Open?

She wasn’t sure what he meant at first . . . but then it clicked. Her cheeks flushed, and with trembling breaths, she spread her legs further apart, adjusting her stance, wide and exposed.

She didn’t know why he wanted this—but she didn’t question it.

She obeyed.

And then—without warning—his tail snapped up between her thighs and struck her sex with a sharp, surprising impact.

A startled gasp tore from her lips. "Oh!"

Her legs trembled. Her grip in his fur tightened instinctively as pleasure burst through her like lightning. The unexpected jolt of sensation was hot and overwhelming, sending shockwaves straight to her core.

He didn’t pause.

Still circling, he brushed her again with the length of his tail, this time dragging it deliberately through her slick folds before it retreated. Her breath came out in short, soft pants, her body completely at his mercy.

Then he was behind her.

She tensed.

Another sharp flick of his tail lashed up from behind, landing against her sex again—but harder this time. Like a spank.

Her body jolted. She inhaled sharply, pelvis clenching hard at the sudden impact. Wetness gushed from her, and her inner muscles spasmed uncontrollably as the pain melted instantly into something more delicious—more addictive.

And then came the reward.

That same tail—the one that had just spanked her—now slid back with featherlight grace. Its silky softness dragged over her heated flesh, teasing her tender skin, tracing the evidence of her arousal.

She moaned low in her throat, knees shaking as she tried to remain standing.

Liora whimpered, the sound unintentional, needy.

Lyander’s wolf let out a low growl—not cruel, but commanding.

Still.

The message was clear. She’d had her turn before, when he trembled beneath her touch. Now, the power had shifted.

He was in control now.

And he wanted her to remember that.

His chest rumbled as he passed her again, slow and regal. She could smell herself on his fur—her arousal clinging to him. When his tail came back around, it struck once with that same delicious sting, then returned with a soothing glide through her thighs.

Once. Twice.

She was shaking by the time he completed the second circuit. Her legs barely held her up. She didn’t know how much more she could take before she collapsed into the need clawing at her insides.

And then, just like that, he stepped away.

The absence of his touch was like being plunged into cold air. She whimpered again, desperate and empty without the heat of him against her.

He didn’t leave her wanting for long.

With a sharp nod toward the soft blanket near the fire, he gave her the next command, voice low and final:

"Lay down."

Her legs were trembling, the aftershocks of his touch still echoing through her limbs, but Liora didn’t hesitate. She moved exactly where he wanted her, stepping carefully toward the blanket near the fire.

Her breaths came fast and shallow, each one stoking the growing heat in her core.

With a slow exhale, she lowered herself onto her back, the soft fabric beneath her contrasting with the raw anticipation flooding her senses.

Her eyes—half-lidded and heavy with desire—never left him. She watched each movement, each step of his powerful frame, as though it were the most important thing in the world.

He approached her, looming above with quiet intensity, and then—deliberately—nudged the inside of her thigh with his snout.

Liora understood.

She bent her knees, shy but obedient, her breath catching as he nudged her again. This time, he didn’t stop until her legs were parted just the way he liked. Spread wide. Open. Exposed.

For him.

Her entire body flushed with awareness. She felt every drop of arousal, every beat of her heart pounding in her chest like a drum.

Her fingers curled into the blanket at her sides, clenched with nervous excitement. She didn’t dare move—she wanted to be good for him.

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