The Villains Must Win
Chapter 197: (+18) Lyander Wolfhart 47

Chapter 197: (+18) Lyander Wolfhart 47

[WARNING! MATURE Content Ahead!]

Lyander took his time.

His gaze roamed over her, inspecting every inch of her body. As expected, there wasn’t a mark left on her skin. Not a hint of pink or redness remained. Her accelerated healing had already erased the signs of her spanking, and that was precisely why he hadn’t held back.

She could take it. More than that—she needed it.

Her natural resilience, her nymph blood, allowed her body to recover nearly instantly. It made her capable of enduring what others could not. And she had. Beautifully.

He huffed softly, his breath warm against her inner thighs, taking in her scent—ripe with need, open, willing.

"Perfect," he whispered, and this time, it wasn’t a praise. It was truth.

His tongue slipped out, tracing a heated path from her slick entrance all the way to her clit.

"Ah!" she cried, her back arching in reaction. Her hips lifted instinctively, offering herself to him more fully, wordlessly begging for more.

"You like my tongue on you?" he growled against her, the vibration sending shivers up her spine.

She gasped, unable to answer, her body trembling as he dove in again. Each stroke of his tongue grew deeper, more intense, curling and pressing against her sensitive walls.

Her moans deepened, spilling from her lips in broken cries as she rocked back, trying to take him in further.

"That’s it," he murmured between licks, voice thick with approval. "Fuck my tongue. Ride it."

A strangled sound burst from her throat—something between a moan and a mewl. She rocked harder, losing herself to the rhythm, her body trembling from the overload of sensation. His tongue was relentless, expertly coaxing her open, his hunger evident in every motion.

From inside his wolf, Lyander watched, his own breathing ragged.

She looked devastating—wild, flushed, utterly consumed. The bond forming between them pulsed, hot and electric. He could feel not only his wolf’s pleasure but hers as well—raw, overwhelming, and intimate in a way that left him shaken.

He couldn’t wait any longer.

Suddenly, his form shifted—no hesitation, no delay. The man returned, eyes glowing, body tight with restrained desire.

"What . . . ?" she looked over her shoulder, her brows drawn in confusion and something softer—concern, maybe even a flicker of hurt. "Why did he stop . . . ?"

"He wanted you," Lyander answered quickly, his voice a rasp. "Desperately. But I needed to make sure you are ready."

She nodded slowly, breath catching—and just then, his fingers pressed gently inside her.

"Oh—" she gasped again, her body stiffening, then relaxing as he stroked within her. He groaned.

"Gods, you’re soaked," he murmured, lowering his mouth to her ear. "You’re already hungry for my cock, aren’t you?"

"Yes . . ." she whispered, her voice strained with need. Her hips pushed back against his hand, silently begging for more.

He added another finger, moving carefully, scissoring them to open her up at a slow, deliberate pace. He was preparing her—knowing his wolf’s size, knowing the force of what was to come. But it was more than physical. It was symbolic. Reverent.

Once he felt her walls yield slightly under his touch, he shifted again, positioning himself behind her, the thick heat of his arousal pressing against her pussy.

"Lyander," she whimpered, moving her hips in subtle encouragement.

He wanted to go slow—to give her time to adjust, to ease her into the depth of their connection—but the moment his body aligned with hers, control slipped. With a low growl, he surged forward, sheathing himself fully in a single, powerful thrust.

Her cry rang through the lagoon.

"Argh!"

There was pain in her voice—but also ecstasy. She welcomed it. Welcomed him.

Lyander’s hands gripped her hips, his body trembling with the effort to hold himself still as her body stretched around him, adjusting inch by inch.

"Gods," he growled, head falling forward, "the way you take me—"

His thrusts resumed slowly, steadily, allowing her to catch up, to mold around him with each motion. When he leaned over her, his voice softened into something nearly reverent.

"I’m going to shift to my wolf," he warned gently, brushing her hair away from her damp forehead. "Slowly."

Her wide eyes locked on his, a mix of excitement and uncertainty flickering within. Still, she nodded.

"I trust you," she whispered.

That was all he needed to hear.

He pressed deeper, anchoring himself within her as the first ripple of transformation surged under his skin.

Liora tensed, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. "Agh . . . !"

Relax,

Lyander urged gently through their shared link. Just breathe . . . let your muscles go soft. He could barely form thoughts now—his voice already fading as the shift overtook him.

His human half clung to control, but fur spread across his back, his bones reshaping. His tail unfurled, and the change moved between them with a power he barely contained.

As the final pieces of his humanity slipped away, Lyander surrendered to the wolf within.

In seconds, the transformation was complete. His massive, furred form enveloped Liora from behind, powerful paws planted on either side of her shoulders.

Though the change was seamless, the sensation was overwhelming—for both of them.

Liora whimpered, her body struggling to adjust, even to his slow, deliberate movements. The stretch was intense, a burn that made her knees tremble.

Shhh . . . His thoughts brushed against hers, low and reassuring. You can do this. You were made for me.

He began to move—carefully—his hips rolling in shallow, measured thrusts. Her head dropped forward, and a low groan tore from her throat. Bit by bit, her body began to yield.

"That’s it," he praised, his relief palpable.

Only then did he let go.

One paw braced against the ground, the other wrapped around her waist as he held her close, his large body molded to hers. Then, with a growl rumbling in his throat, he pulled back his cock—and drove forward.

Her cry echoed off the lagoon. "Lyander!"

He found a rhythm quickly, his movements gaining speed as Liora writhed beneath him. Her words became jumbled, a mix of broken syllables and raw sound, each one stoking the fire in his blood.

Lyander’s mind spun. He hadn’t expected this—hadn’t known what it would feel like. Though he was no longer in control, the pleasure surged through both man and wolf, blurring the lines between them. His muscles coiled, his senses heightened. Everything was her—her scent, her voice, her heat.

Mine, the wolf whispered. My beautiful mate. All mine.

Couldn’t agree more, Lyander’s human side replied, dazed with pleasure.

Liora was close, her breath shallow and erratic, her body pulsing with tension. He shifted her hips slightly, and the angle drew a gasp from her lips as his rhythm struck deeper, rougher.

Wet sounds filled the lagoon, echoing louder with each thrust.

"Oh, gods!" she cried, rocking back to meet him.

When she finally fell over the edge, it was sudden and all-consuming. Her body clenched around him, the strength of her climax making him groan with both pleasure and pain. Her muscles gripped him like a vice, and still he held on, his breathing ragged, waiting.

Only when her cries faded into soft panting, her body limp and trembling in his arms, did he allow himself to move again.

And with one motion—one deep, instinctive thrust—she snapped back to life, her hips rolling with renewed hunger.

But it only took one deep thrust from him to fire her back to life. Her head snapped up, and in an instant, his little nymph was ready again—wiggling her hips, urging him on with a raw, silent demand.

Fuck . . . yes. Lyander thought.

Then, without warning, he pulled out.

Her head whipped around, eyes blazing. She looked at him like she was ready to tear him apart if he didn’t get back inside her pussy that very second.

Lyander couldn’t stop the laugh that rumbled out of him. His wolf’s eyes sparkled with delight at her reaction, and his chest swelled with pride—Liora wanted him.

He loved that wild, possessive you’d better fuck me right now look on her face, and he intended to coax it out of her as many times as he possibly could.

But for now, he had a plan.

As much as he loved taking her from behind, he wanted something else—something more intimate. He wanted to watch her as she took him, feel her mark him as he claimed her.

So he rolled onto his back.

Liora blinked, her brows drawing together in confusion. She hovered over him uncertainly, and the puzzled look on her face was almost too cute to bear.

"I’m going to have you in every way," his wolf said through her mind, voice low and rough. "But right now . . . climb on."

Her eyes widened as realization dawned.

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. "For now, I want you on my cock—facing me."

She drew in a sharp breath.

Laughter rumbled through his chest as he clarified, "I meant with your pussy in my mouth and you facing away from me."