Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals!

Chapter 228: 228. Tracker II

Maisie

Soren grabbed a scalpel in his other hand and moved in behind me.

"Don’t you fucking dare–"

Mercer slammed me harder into the desk and I felt Soren’s hand hook in the collar of my hoodie and yank it aside, exposing the side of my neck and the upper slope of my shoulders.

Tears stung my eyes. Any lower and he would find the scars underneath. And everything would’ve been for nothing.

But he didn’t.

I felt the sharp press of the scalpel to my neck and then, the metal sank in. I cried out at the pain as he sliced even deeper, fingers steady but hard. I thrashed harder but Jericho and Mercer’s grip were bruising, pinning me effortlessly. My cheeks stayed pressed to the table and I could feel every shift of Soren’s body behind me.

Something small and cold pushed into the open wound, and I felt it in my body, heard it latch onto the inside of my skin.

My skin crawled at the foreign sensation and my Lycan paused from her temporary whine of want, enough to feel irritated enough to want to rip the tracker out of where it had latched to my spine.

But then, Soren’s cold, gloved fingers moved across my neck. I felt him lean down. And then, I felt the wet heat of his tongue drag slowly over the cut.

My body jolted.

He licked the wound closed in hot, languid strokes, a deep growl of sick satisfaction rattling his chest. Each pass of his tongue was intimate and violating at once, and my knees weakened, my Lycan’s rage dissolving into mindless want.

Heat flooded my stomach so fast, it made me dizzy. My fingers curled helplessly against the table as a shameful tremor ran through my thighs. I didn’t realize Mercer and Jericho had released me until Soren’s hand jerked me higher on my tip toes, my back slamming into the hard wall of his chest.

A ragged exhaled escaped me as his tongue flicked once more over the sensitive skin. My legs weren’t working right anymore.

My breathing was too fast, my skin too tight, and every nerve where his mouth had been burned, even as his lips traced my skin slowly, dragging along the curve of my ear. His voice was dark, the rich timbre rough as he whispered, "If I reached between your legs, would I find you wet, Adams?"

I recoiled away from him, but he held me firmly against his chest, one hand wrapping fully around my throat and the other banded around my waist. Mercer slipped in front of me, holding my thighs apart as I kicked hard at him. Jericho blocked out the surveillance camera by crowding me.

"Stop it," I hissed when Mercer’s fingers hook in the waistband of my pants.

He didn’t. He popped my button. The sound of my zipper being tugged down filled the air.

"Stop it!" I choked out, my nipples pebbling and straining against the thick fabric of my bra. "I have rights and I don’t consent to..." I swallowed a moan as his hand twisted, cupping over my heat. "...to... this..." My mind temporarily blanked out as his fingers caught the edge of my panties and pushed it to the side.

"Humans, wolves, Lycans, have rights," Soren said, catching my earlobe between his teeth. I fought the urge to arch my body into his. "Criminals like you don’t." Mercer’s fingers parted my folds just as Soren added, "But then again, this is merely a collection of evidence that you are indeed, a filthy little liar, and we do not repulse you as much as you claim."

Mercer’s fingers found my entrance and pushed into me.

I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from making a sound as his fingers slid through with little to no resistance, buried to the knuckle and curled so hard against a spot that made my hips buck.

I tried to slam my legs shut but Mercer’s hand on my thigh tightened hard enough to hurt, wrenching my thigh wider like I was some piece of offering to him.

And shame heated my cheeks at the scent of arousal that filled the air. Jericho sucked in a sharp breath as he did nothing but watch.

"You’re soaked," Mercer said coldly. He looked at me like I was nothing. Like he wasn’t knuckles-deep inside me. Like this was a chore. His mouth was a flat, cruel line as he dragged his fingers out slowly, then slammed them back in deeper. The wet sound was obscene in the bare office, echoing back to my ears, along with my pride all over the floor.

"All that shit-talk and your cunt still drips down my wrist," he seethed, eyes glittering with loathing. And lust. Maybe he hated me. But he still wanted me, and that enraged him. And when Mercer was enraged, he said things he didn’t mean. Things that cut too raw, too deep.

I knew this, but it didn’t make it hurt any less when he said, "Did he touch you like this? Did you like it, spread your thighs like this for him? You’re so damned easy, it’s appalling."

I shook my head, frantic, even as my hips jerked to meet the next thrust. Desire burned so hot it felt like a fever. Every lie I had told them was collapsing under the way my body clenched around him greedily.

And when he curled them inside me again, I couldn’t stop the sound from escaping me fast enough.

Mercer laughed humorlessly.

"There it is. That sound. I imagine everything with a dick and enough wads of cash in their wallets in every city you took off to know that sound by now." He leaned in closer, breath harsh against my cheek as he fucked his fingers deeper into me. "No wonder you ran. Must be exhausting pretending you’re anything else."

My eyes burned and tears spilled down my cheeks. And yet... and yet... I clenched around him, hips bucking, chasing the cruel rhythm he set.

My thighs began shaking as I fluttered around his fingers, already too close. And it was out of habit that his name tumbled off my lips as I forgot where we were entirely, forgot our situation, forgot why I couldn’t let this happen.

I gasped. "Mercer–"

His hand clamped over mouth instantly, muffling the rest of the sound. "Don’t you ever," he snarled, "say my name like that again."

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