Lycan Contempt by S. Yule (reading fiction TXT) 📕

stil off, and she kept tripping over her own feet—uh, paws. He was gorgeous. His fur was thick and luscious and she wanted to run her fingers through it except she didn’t have any.

“You’re beautiful. What color are you?”

“Reddish brown. You are blonde, nearly the same color as your hair.”

“I want to see your eyes, Kish.”

He looked at her and her legs nearly buckled underneath her. This was the man she loved. This was Kish. Damn, he was lovely. She now understood what people meant about eyes being the windows to one’s soul. She was positive she could see a milion pairs of green eyes and be able to pick his out of them al in an instant. She was confident there would be no one that had eyes exactly like his. She couldn’t explain it, but these eyes were Kish’s and his only.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. It’s going to take some time to get used to seeing for the first time, but I’m okay.”

She now knew what worry looked like because it burned brightly in his eyes.

“We can’t run tonight, sweetheart. Not until you get used to your sight.”

She nodded in agreement. “How do I shift back?”

“Easy. Just relax and picture yourself, your human self.”

It wasn’t quite as easy as he indicated, but she accomplished it in the end. She was as unsteady on two feet with her restored sight as she had been on four.

She looked up at Kish in awe of the man standing in front of her. She couldn’t be any more thankful that they were both nude. She didn’t want anything between them the first time she saw him. She reached out to touch him, and she didn’t miss the way he seemed to flinch when she touched the scarred side of his face.

“You are amazing,” she breathed as she ran her fingers over him, learning what he looked like for the first time with her eyes. “You’re so big.”

“I think you’re just smal, and you are the one that’s amazing.”

He winced again when she ran her fingers over the scars on his shoulder.

“The scars didn’t matter to me when I couldn’t see, and they don’t make a difference now. They in no way make you less of a man in my eyes or detract from your sexiness one tiny bit.”

He growled, and she sucked in a breath. “They do glow,” she whispered.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Only when you have strong emotions?”

“Yes, which means right about now I’m about to throw you down and take you right here on the ground.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks and between her legs.

“I’d rather make out in your truck like a teenager.

You promised me we’d do that sometime.

Remember?”

He nodded. “Yep.”

She squeaked when he picked her up. Damn, the man was glorious, and she couldn’t wait to get a closer look at certain parts of him. Up close and personal.

Within a couple minutes, he had her inside the truck and pinned under his big body. She ran her fingers over every part of him she could reach and he groaned.

“I know you want to explore, sweetheart, but right now I need to be inside you.”

She nodded. “I’d like that very much.”

He took her mouth, and she threaded her fingers through his thick, reddish-brown hair. The stubble on his face chafed her skin as he kissed her, and she loved every minute of it. As he sank inside her body, she opened her legs wider and arched her hips to welcome him home.

She had so much to look forward to. Exploring her new wolf side, her newly gained sight, and Kish. No matter how long they were together, she’d never grow tired of exploring him.

She moaned as he drove his hips deeper and she dug her nails into his shoulders.

“I love you sweetheart,” he rasped.

“I love you too, Kish. Always and forever.”

Epilogue

Did they actualy think they could catch him? At this point, he hoped they did because he was tired of running for being labeled something he wasn’t. He was no rogue. He was an ancient who chose to live his own life. He never went against the lycan laws, but he refused to answer to anyone. He was his own man, always had been, always would be.

Sanctuary was a place run by his kind, mostly ancients and their mates, a place where rogues who were thought fit enough to reform were taken. Now he had been labeled a rogue, and had been relentlessly chased for the past six months. The few times he’d tried to talk some sense into his pursuers, they hadn’t wanted to listen to him. That put him in a difficult situation. Run or fight his own kind. And if he chose the latter, things wouldn’t turn out wel for them.

He didn’t want to be responsible for kiling any of his species. He’d done enough kiling in his lifetime, but he’d about had enough of this chase the rabbit bulshit. If they’d give him a damned second to explain, they’d realize he was probably older then al of them put together. He’d been around a long time.

A damned long time.

“Whenever I find that little punk-ass motherfucker, I’m going to rip his fucking head off,” he muttered.

He’d make an exception about kiling his own kind then.

Terrance. The little whiny bitch he’d had a run-in with nearly a year ago was the reason for al of this.

He’d had lots of time to figure out who could have labeled him a rogue, who could have set Sanctuary on his ass, and every path led back to Terrance. The rogue had been taken to Sanctuary a little over eight months ago. He didn’t believe it was a coincidence that al of his problems started shortly thereafter.

From little bits of rumors he caught, he’d put enough pieces together to figure out that Terrance had taken revenge against him by teling the ancients at Sanctuary that he, Galen Soloman, had been his leader. That he was a ruthless rogue. One that had committed atrocious acts