Heart Of A Lycan Prince

5.

"You're insane," was all he said as he pulled my hand and dragged me out of the diner into the dense night outside. I didn't resist, even though all I wanted was to pull my hand away and tell him to stop touching me.

But I didn't. Because as much as I don't like this, I hate the attention I was drawing to us even more. I hate that people are watching. Waiting to see what happens between us. So I didn't pull away, or perhaps, that was just an excuse I needed to savor the warmth of his hand clasped in mine. The dangerous pull. The push and pull going on in my stomach, and the uncontrollable urge to lean into him. To feel him.

And I hate it. Oh Nyala, I hate these stupid feelings stirring in me. Hate that I have no control over how I feel, how to react. And so, it sends me over the edge even more. I smoothed my free damp hand over my dress as I tried to bring my breathing back under control. But it wasn't working.

Nothing seemed to be working on this cursed damn night!

"Open the door," his voice snarled close to my ears, drawing me out of my thoughts I had stupidly let into my head, so much so that I didn't notice we had arrived at the door to my room. How he knew that, I didn't dare ask as I pulled my hand from his hold, fished out the card with shaky fingers and swiped it across the lock.

The door unlocked in an instant and I stepped in, with him trailing behind me closely. Ah, so maybe we are doing this.

"What were you thinking? Don't you know how dangerous this is? You can't just book a stranger for some s****l gratification you have spinning in your head..."

"Excuse you!" I snapped, walking away from him and stepped more into the living room, then flicked the lights on. "Dangerous? It doesn't seem that way to me considering this is what you do," I whirled around only to find him standing behind me. The big brute hovering over my short form. Damn! I've never hated my height as much as I did now.

"That's different. I am telling you to stop this. It is dangerous."

I simply scoffed, walking over to the centre table. I set my bag down as I filled a cup with water and drank it in seconds. I needed that.

"You don't tell me what to do with my life. You have no rights over that. Besides, need I remind you that you are here for a job? To fulfill my s****l gratification as you called it," I relaxed my braids from the bun, massaged my sore temples then looked up at him. The brute still hadn't moved an inch from where he towered over me.

"We. Are. Not. Doing. Anything, Sherneil," he gritted.

'If we weren't in a complicated situation right now, I'd have swooned over the way he just called your name,' Robyn murmured, glaring up at him. 'And like I mentioned before, we don't have to do this anymore. Send him away and we can spend the rest of the night watching cartoons.'

'The hell I am!' I snapped. 'We are doing this. I won't be the one backing down here,' I answered, blocking off our connection as I focused it all on Mav.

"Of course we are. Isn't that why I booked you? And why you are here?"

"This is different! You are my mate, for Nyala's sake!"

"Oh, so now I am your mate?" I asked, refusing to let the surge I felt in my chest at the word mate. But I was slowly easing into the role I am playing. The role where I am in control. "I thought you didn't want the bond?"

"You thought wrong," he clenched his jaw, squinted his grey-green eyes and stared down at me. "Do not pretend you know what I think when you don't even know me." He breathed.

"Unlike someone, I do not stalk others," I said, as I began to tug the zipper of my dress down. "I think we've talked enough. Let's get this over with so I can rest."

Making the first move would give me an opening. It would give me the control I wanted in this, which is the only way I can keep up with this fiasco of mine. Which is the only way I can do this.

"Don't," Mav said, gripping my hand from behind. "Don't pull the dress off, Sherneil. We aren't doing anything."

"Will I get a new escort sent if I complain to the agency now?" I blinked at him innocently. "If I understand you correctly, you don't want to do this only because I am your client, right? Well, that is fine. You can leave and I'll demand for a replacement from the agency," I added, walking up to where my bag was laid. "I wasn't expecting you to be the one who would pleasure me for the night either, so imagine my shock when I saw you," I forced a flirty smile I normally see women give, hoping it sent the message in mind. "I can..."

"The h.ell you are booking another escort!" Mav roared, snatching my phone from my hand and tossing it behind onto the rug. "You want to do this? Then fine!" he hissed, pushing me onto the couch behind us. Then he slipped my shoes of my feet.

I began thinking what comes next, what I should do to take back the control I felt was slipping away.

But he took the decision out of me, the one decision I had over this as he kicked off his black leather shoes and threw them behind him. When he finished, he shrugged out of his black shirt and tossed it on the chair next to my bag, revealing a deep brown skin, taut bare muscles underneath, and tattoos.

Lots of tattoos. It stretched from his neck, down to his chest and upper arms, and his jeans rode low on narrow hips.

I couldn't help but stare. Despite the wheels turning in my heart. Despite the clenching of my guts.

His body was raw sculpted muscle and loose-limbed coordination. He was by far the finest male specimen I'd ever laid eyes on. Not that I've seen a lot of men bare chested.

And we were going to do it.

The reminder that I had pushed for this despite his insistence that we stopped, knocked a wave of panic through me as I continued to stare at him. He did nothing. He simply stood before me, arms crossed over his chest and muscles rippling everywhere. So much so that I began to think how his body would feel beneath the touch of my hands.

Maybe I can't...do this.

"Excuse me for a moment please," I mumbled, cursing myself at the sound crackly sound of my voice.

I took a desperate breath and marched into the bathroom in the living room, where I braced my hands on the cool granite and stared at my reflection in the mirror.

My eyes were open a fraction too wide, and my face was sweaty. My once painted lips with nude lipstick are now almost dry, and have a little crack on them. I unconsciously dragged my tongue over them to wet, as though that would calm the raging in my nerves.

I don't think I can go through with this. I shouldn't even have started this in the first place, or insisted that we do this. I should've just left him at the diner and returned to my room.

What had I been thinking?

My lips twisted with a grimace. No, I hadn't really been thinking. It'd been his eyes. Those grey-green eyes that had caused this. The moment I saw them, I stopped thinking, and what did I do? Book an escort that ended up being my mate!

A sane person would've definitely ended this. But I didn't, only because I wanted to prove to myself that I didn't care what he does with his life. That I simply wanted an advantage. And if he's the one to give that to me, I'd gladly take it.

Lies. Damn fvcking lies!

I felt Robyn nudging, but I refused to give way. I had already come this far, and backing away now would only make me a coward. I refuse to make a joke of myself before him.

A movement behind me caught my attention, and through the mirror, I saw him step into the doorway and lean against the jamb.

That motion alone was so s.exy. So much so that I felt my heart trip, stumble, and scramble to continue beating. He walked into the bathroom and stopped behind me, his eyes locked on mine in the mirror. His face closed off, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't study him. Or what he was thinking.

"Are you ready?" He asked quietly.

And funny enough, I freaking nodded!

Mav stepped into the bathroom, pushed my braids to one side, then slowly, he began to massage my scalp.

Within seconds, the tension on my scalp released, as he eased his fingers into my braids, separating the tendrils so they fell to my shoulders and down my back. I vibrated with tension as I waited for him to initiate intimacy and send my body into nervous lockdown.

It was going to happen, and then he'd see what he was working with.

"You look tense," he whispered, his breath on my neck.

Of course I look tense, because I am seriously considering my choices. All of the choices that had led me to this point.

"Come," he added, walking me back to the living room, and settling me down on the couch. There was something a bit different about him. He was closed off, yet a bit open? I can't seem to understand what was going on, but there's definitely a shift in him.

"What do you want to start with?" He asked quietly, kneeling before me.

How do I begin telling him that I have no experience whatsoever on this? The act is just slapping two bodies together. Nothing more. I can't remember feeling anything besides the slap of skin, or how uncomfortable the whole act had been in the two scenarios I've done this. I can't remember feeling anything, which made me wonder if it was because I was terribly bad at it. But one thing was for sure though, I certainly did not enjoy the act.

Not even a bit.

However, I was not about to tell him that, so I swallowed, look him dead in the eyes and answered. "Why don't you surprise me? After all, this is your job not mine."

His face closed off even more before it eased, then his lips curved with a slow, crooked grin, showing off perfect white teeth, as a dangerous glint flickered in his eyes.

Shit.

"Well, prepare your throat for some screaming. Because I am going to make you scream till your voice turns raw and hoarse, Kitten."

There was a promise in there. A deep rooted kinda promise that shook my entirety. But then, who calls a person Kitten?

Just what have I gotten myself into?

Then before I could say anything, he was on top of me, his frame leaning over my petite form, but not enough to press me down, just enough for his breath to hit harder, and for his scent, which I still couldn't place what it was taking over me. Completely.

I let my eyes wander down his throat, towards the curve of where the tattoo started on his neck, to the swirls of the black ink against his deep brown skin sliding down his chest, his torso, and disappearing into the hilt of his trousers.

My throat worked on an involuntary swallow at the thought, and a wave of heat swept over me. I'd never seen tattoos this close. Never found them alluring. Or sexy. Until now. Maverick with a tattoo was just about the hottest thing I could imagine.

The dangerous pull returned, and all I could feel, all I could think about was touching him. Touching his tattoo. But he wasn't touching me yet, instead, he braced his hands on either side of the couch and simply stared down at me, those eyes raking over me. Intense and somewhat, dangerous.

Then suddenly, he caught my hand in his and pressed it to his skin. An electric jolt shot from my fingertips straight to my heart. He looked so perfect, like carved stone, but his skin was smooth and hot, firm but giving, alive.

"You looked like you wanted to touch me," he murmured. "You can touch me," he added, "anywhere."

An invitation. An opening for control. Even as the invitation thrilled me, it gave me a pause.

Touching was such a private thing. I don't understand how he was able to do it so well with people he didn't know. I don't understand how anyone is ever comfortable touching others. Especially sexually.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" I found myself asking. Because the idea of touching him when he doesn't want to be touched does not sit well with me.

That crooked grin returned in full force. "I like being touched. And I'm here for you like you said. If touching me is what you want, then do it."

I didn't like the sound of that, or the way his eyes glazed before whatever it was vanished. I didn't like any of it. But if that is the game he wants to play, then that's fine.

But when I continued to hesitate, he gathered my hair to one side and brushed a fleeting kiss behind my ear.

It happened so quickly that by the time my body tensed up he'd already pulled away. When he didn't move to repeat the caress, my muscles relaxed once again. The place where he'd kissed me burned with awareness.

"I don't know what sets you in the mood. But kissing is always the best way to start. So I think you should kiss me," he said in a husky voice.

My heart squeezed tight, and my skin pricked with panic. I was a horrible kisser. At least, that has been proved on the three occasions I had initiated it. And all had not been when I was with those Omegas I had been intimate with. I've never kissed during s*x, and I wasn't about to start. My awkward attempts were sure to embarrass us both.

"On the mouth?" I asked stupidly.

The corner of said mouth kicked up. "Wherever you want to. This isn't your first time kissing, right?"

"Of course not," I bristled, my cheeks heating up. I really really don't want to be kissed. Instead of saying that, I found myself saying, "maybe I should brush my teeth. I can do that right..."

He pressed a thumb to my lips, silencing me, but his eyes were gentle. That touch, too, was gone before it fully registered in my brain.

"I will do the kissing..."

"No! Wait!" I put a hand between us, pushing him just a bit so I could sit up properly. I can't do this. Not kissing. Not smacking of tongues. Not anymore.

"I have a few rules," I said. "First, I do not entertain the idea of lips smacking and tongue sucking. The idea of exchanging saliva with someone just doesn't seem right or healthy to me, so, I'd like to avoid the whole kissing part."

He stared at me for a moment, the smug grin returning in an instant. I wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face by slapping him hard, but that would automatically show just how much I cared, and I wouldn't be giving him that pleasure.

"That's fine by me," he finally said. "I don't go around shoving my tongue into every woman's mouth."

"But you shove yourself into everyone you find?" I asked, sounding a bit more bitter than I intended to.

Another crooked smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Dammit! Why did I show that anger? That bitterness?

"Only those willing to let me in. Like you," he answered.

I was seeing red. Everywhere. From each angle. From each side. The unblinding rage coursing through me was so demanding, so gripping that for a moment, I wanted to slap him hard.

But I didn't. I simply clenched my fists on the sides and snarled at him.

"Get off me," I said quietly, so quietly that at first, I thought the voice didn't belong to me.

He didn't argue. He slid off the couch and off me, but before he could move back an inch, I was standing up and had my arms wrapped around his neck. "No kissing," I hissed.

He stared at me for a moment, and for the briefest blink, I thought I saw a flash of something in his eyes before it completely vanished.

"Not on the lips. Yes," he agreed, then dipped his head to the side of my neck and sucked hard.

My eyes rolled back in. I found myself gasping for air, yet nothing. All I could feel were his teeth and mouth sucking on my neck, causing my toes to curl and my stomach to curl and uncurl in ways I couldn't explain.

"Kitten..." he drawled, his mouth leaving my neck and trailing down to my throat as he slowly began to continue zipping down my gown.

I decided I needed to touch him too. That I would touch him. So I did.

My touch was timid at first, but when he didn't object, I grew bolder. I pushed my hands across his firm chest, enjoying the ridges of defined muscle and the smoothness of his hair filled skin.

He paused from sucking my throat, and lifted his head a bit to look at me. I didn't stop, however, I allowed my fingers to continue roaming on his bare chest, allowed my hands to familiarize with the curve of his body. His thick muscles. The feel of them. The tattoos. The skin. The heat. The scanty hair scattered on his chest.

Tactilely, I couldn't discern a difference between his inked skin and his unmarked skin. Fascinating. My fingertips bumped down his abdomen, and I counted under my breath, "...3. 4. 5. 6. 7."

My fingers met the waistband of his trousers, and his stomach muscles flexed and rippled as he took a breath.

"Like what you see, Kitten?"

I thought that should be obvious, so I didn't answer. Besides, it was getting difficult to concentrate. The sight of his perfect athlete's body and his excessive tattoo, the feel of his hot skin, and his delicious scent overwhelmed my senses.

"Just lay back," he suddenly said, pushing me fully into the couch as I laid back, my lower body bare to him. "Lay back and let me do my job, Kitten."

Then he grinned down at me, his eyes twinkling with something raw. "Time for you to scream, Kitten."

And screaming I did. As embarrassing as it sounds. As stupid as I had made myself looked, I screamed, because there was nothing left to explain what Mav was doing to my body.

And when I came, I left the earth and returned.

I laid there, breathing hard, willing for my heart to calm down. For my senses to return. We stayed that way for only Nyala knows how long, before he moved.

I watched as he stood up, walked into the bathroom. I heard the sound of the shower, and something sank in my chest.

With a slow degree of awareness, my senses returned to me. My sweaty body. What I had just done. And with whom. I was finally thinking. Until I remembered this was nothing but what I had paid for. Until I remembered this meant nothing to him. That this was just intimacy. This was just something I had paid for.

Emotion clogged my throat. He was in there washing off whatever it was we shared. Every single shard of it. Would I ever feel what it's like to be...wanted? For real?

He strolled into the living room lazily, water trickling down his body as he buttoned his black shirt.

"Should I expect a 5 star review from my mate as well?" He drawled, stopping before me.

Something clutched my throat again, a firm grip that twisted my knots. I shouldn't be surprised. Shouldn't even be bothered by this, because this was all it had been.

An intimacy between an escort and his client. What was I expecting? That he acknowledges the bond now?

"I'll see to it that you get a 3. It wasn't what I had expected if I may say," I heard myself say, the lie slipping off my tongue easily.

He clicked his tongue. "Even with the way you kept screaming? Kept begging me to go faster?"

I flushed in embarrassment. But I won't show it. I won't. So, I counted to 7, gripping my gown that now laid over my naked body, and twirled my ring. "You said you’d make me scream. I just didn't want to embarrass you. I'll see to it that you get your 3 star review, Maverick. You can leave now."

He stared at me for a moment then smiled, a slow grin that looked too innocent. Too simple.

"It is obvious I exceeded what you paid for, Kitten. That much is obvious. And we both know a 3 star is a lie, because I did more than you bargained for. I do this for a job, and I know how a satisfied woman reacts. And you are one. I'll take my leave now, but think twice before you book an escort next time. You might not be so lucky to get me. Have a goodnight rest, Kitten."

It took me seconds, no, minutes for his words to register in. For a reaction to evoke from me. And by the time I threw a curse at the door, Mav was already gone.

And I was left all alone, with nothing but self loathing over what I had done.