Stolen by the Beastly Lycan King-Chapter 111: Giving Up

Though she had already climaxed countless times, the tingling began to build within her once more.

Her body gave way to another torrent of ecstasy, a surge of fluid spilling over him as she quaked uncontrollably. Lorelai felt like she was on the brink of losing her mind, her vision swimming as her green eyes lost focus. Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes, streaming down her flushed cheeks in hot, unrelenting rivers.

"Say my name," Rhaegar demanded in a low voice. His tongue flicked over her tear-streaked face, his breath searing her sensitive skin. "You need to remember who’s making you feel this way, princess."

She could only cling to him, her body surrendering completely. In a haze of fear and pleasure, her last reserves of strength went into wrapping her arms around his neck. Her trembling lips parted, and in a voice shaking with emotion, she whispered his name.

"... Rhaegar."

The king’s amber eyes glimmered with satisfaction as Lorelai clung to him more tightly.

"Yes, Lorelai," he murmured, his voice softening with approval. "Good job."

He leaned down, sinking his teeth into her neck, leaving another possessive mark. The sharp pain made her cry out loudly.

"Rhaegar... please, ugh..."

His thick, rigid manhood plunged deep into her one last time, and with a powerful groan, hot liquid surged inside her, filling her completely.

Lorelai’s body shook uncontrollably, her arms and legs trembling from the overwhelming waves of pleasure. Even as her body went limp, her fingers continued to quiver from the intensity.

As she drifted in the haze of her orgasm, Rhaegar kept moving inside her, his slightly softened length still buried deep. She whimpered softly, a mix of despair and lingering pleasure escaping her lips as he continued, deliberately rubbing his seed into her inner walls.

"Ah..."

Her insides were already drenched with his release, yet Rhaegar kept moving, as though determined to draw out something more.

Lorelai’s vision blurred, her breaths coming in shallow, uneven gasps as she fought to stay conscious. Clinging to the remnants of her awareness, she began to count the number of times he had filled her—and despaired.

It had only been twice.

She didn’t want to pass out again—not this time. But the king never stopped until he was fully satisfied.

Every time they made love, it always ended the same way. Even when she cried and begged, telling him she couldn’t take anymore, he would soothe her with his low, coaxing voice before continuing, relentless, until her body gave out.

Weakly, she called his name, her voice trembling with exhaustion.

"Rhaegar..."

"Tell me, Lorelai. What is it?" he murmured softly, his voice rough but threaded with attentiveness.

Desperate to distract him, to halt the seduction she could already feel in his tone, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"I’m so tired," she whispered, almost without thinking.

For a moment, Rhaegar froze, his body stilling as her words sank in. Then his expression shifted, a deep frown darkening his handsome features.

"...Damn it," he muttered, his voice laced with frustration. "But what can I do? I can’t stop now, princess."

Despite his words, his amber eyes roamed over her body, scanning her with concern, as though he were checking to ensure she could still endure him.

Lorelai let out a soft moan as he finally withdrew from her, the motion sending a warm flood of liquid spilling from her. That’s when he saw it—the fresh, deep cut on her arm.

The sticky mixture of his release and her fluids trickled down her thighs, but Rhaegar moved with surprising tenderness. Grabbing her discarded nightgown, he carefully cleaned her before wiping himself. Then he pulled a blanket over her, tucking it snugly around her petite frame.

"You should have told me she did it to you again," he said, his tone soft but tinged with frustration.

It seemed he had interpreted her earlier words as a sign of neglect. The misunderstanding worked in Lorelai’s favor, giving her a moment of reprieve. Her body relaxed slightly, the tension ebbing away as exhaustion began to take over. Her eyelids grew heavier, her mind clouding as his attention shifted elsewhere.

Rhaegar’s deep voice broke through the haze, soft and reassuring as he whispered in her ear.

"I’ll take you to my place," he murmured. "Where the beasts are staying. You’ll have good food, and no one will bother you. You’ll be able to rest. Don’t worry—I’ll bring you back before dawn."

Lorelai nodded faintly, too drained to fully process his words.

Her head lolled against his chest, her body pliant in his strong arms. The warmth of the blanket, the steady beat of his heart, and the soothing promise in his tone began to lull her into sleep.

For now, she allowed herself to let go of her worries. For the last time.

***

Rhaegar wrapped his strong arms around the princess, ensuring his movements were gentle enough not to wake her. Fortunately, Lorelai was so utterly exhausted that even when he leapt from her balcony, she didn’t stir.

Moving confidently through the guest palace, the lycan king’s steps were silent, yet a pair of glowing golden eyes emerged from the shadows of the dim hallway, following his movements.

"I hope she’s not dead," the man said quietly, though his tone carried an unmistakable note of disapproval.

Rhaegar hissed at his aide, tightening his hold on the princess as if shielding her. "Stop talking nonsense, Alim. Instead, why don’t you do something useful and call Naveen? I’ll be waiting in my room."

"Shall I ask her to bring ointment?" Alim asked, his tone dripping with mockery, though the question came with genuine concern.

Rhaegar paused, considering the suggestion. After a brief moment, he nodded curtly. "Yes, I will allow it this time."

As Alim watched his king vanish behind the doors of his bedroom, a sharp wave of bitterness surged through him, twisting his stomach into knots.

For the first time in his life, he had seen Rhaegar on the verge of giving up.