Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals!

Chapter 117: 117. Sugar Daddy?

Mercer

My fingers wrapped tight around the steering wheel until I felt the steel beneath begin to bend.

None-the-wiser, Maisie’s friends were in the back seat, laughing, and they did, in fact, not keep the talk of knotting and pregnancies to a minimum.

I didn’t think she knew it, but Maisie’s friends were unhinged, and if I was in a better mood, I might have appreciated the jokes.

But I wasn’t.

Nothing was right. Nothing was fucking right. We’d walked around the laws for the Exiled and it was true. They could be in Greymoor. They could be around Maisie whenever they fucking liked, so emboldened by this that we’d found six of our guards dead yesterday.

Something was coming. And I hated walking into a battle blind. I just wished mother wasn’t too engrossed in her hatred of Maisie and us at the moment, and her useless pride, to see that the Exiles were up to something.

There had been way too many attacks in the last few weeks to be called random acts of violence.

”What is that for?” Maisie asked quietly an hour later, as the receptionist rang up my card.

They’d racked up the bill. The redhead had gotten herself a little diamond choker. I was wondering what the fuck she needed a diamond choker for. And then she added teardrops. And then she decided she wanted the whole collection.

They were using me like I was their fucking sugar daddy. Pay for this, Mercer. Buy this, Mercer. This would really look great on Maisie, Mercer. You know, you aren’t as bad as we thought you were, Mercer.

But I didn’t complain. Maisie’s friends being happy meant I got to stay in her good graces. Hopefully, the next time they were having conversations about measuring dick sizes, they would recommend mine to her.

I held up the flimsy swim suit. ”This? I like it.”

Maisie’s brows rose to her hairline. ”You’re going to put on women’s swimwear? It has a thong, Mercer.”

I held it up close to my face, squinting. ”What’s wrong with wearing a thong? Think my ass won’t fit?”

She started laughing. It was a silly laugh that escaped her without her permission. It was the first time she’d ever laughed for me. For real. When she wasn’t completely out of her mind.

Her hair was wild around her face, luscious, magical, and the fire in her blue eyes blazed me to the core. Some bizarre flutter ran deep in my gut and I frowned, puzzled by the clear anomaly.

Must be indigestion. Only women had butterflies.

Still, I had no idea what I was doing until I lowered my head and caught the edge of that laughter with my lips.

Maisie jerked away from me, eyes wide, my fingers touching up her bottom lip. Possibly to wipe it off?

The jealousy that rose in me was ugly, and for an insane second, I considered sinking my fangs into her lips just to make a fucking point, but I dipped my head instead. ”Sorry.”

The word tasted like poison. Of course I wasn’t fucking sorry.

She averted her gaze and nodded, but the air between us remained strained.

Twenty minutes later, she had been dragged over to the stall by the redhead, who was forcing her into a beautiful emerald dress that I was more likely to throw into the hearth because it revealed too much of her tits. My tits. She looked like a wet dream.

”It looks great on her, doesn’t it, Mercer?” the one named Jenny asked with a wicked smile.

I thought her friends had it out for me and were tormenting me on purpose.

All I could think about as I ran my gaze along the length of her legs was the last time I had them wrapped around my waist. It’d been too long.

The thought of some other guy who was still worried about how nice his ass looked in skinny jeans having these same thoughts about my mate pulled something feral in me.

”Go change,” I growled.

All three women looked up at me sharply. Wisely, her friends said nothing.

Anger flashed in Maisie’s eyes, but she disappeared into the stall and did as I asked.

Or so I thought.

Because when she re-emerged, I went still. My cock went stiff. My blood roared in my ears. A sardonic rattle came from my Lycan. Maisie was in a sheer black dress. And I didn’t need fucking Superman’s x-rayed vision to see her tits through the material.

”Let’s buy this instead,” she purred. ”I like it better.”

What was that clause again? I wear what I want? Fuck that. I didn’t care what game of chess she was playing with Soren. I wanted no part of it. I didn’t like this game anymore.

The store full of women fell quiet as I crossed the distance in two strides and picked her off the ground.

She screamed as I took her into small the changing room and planted her across from me with a single order. ”Strip.”

Maisie picked up the first thing she could find—a mannequin—and hurled it at my head. ”You are an asshole!”

I crossed the space between us, chest heaving. Her fists swung blindly, crashing into my chest, but I had her backed against the wall with no escape. ”Unless you want to be breached there, I suggest you keep your goddamn mouth shut and do as I tell you to.”

My Lycan was slipping out of my skin. I could hear him in my voice. He was mean. Meaner than I was. Controlling. It took more than it should to always keep him under control. Seeing Maisie in that dress wasn’t exactly helping matters. He wanted her. He didn’t understand why we couldn’t simply have her.

And there she was toeing a dangerous line by teasing me. Us.

Anger crackled in those blue eyes. ”Make me,” she spat at me with venom.

I grabbed the neckline of the dress and tore it down in equal halves.

Her bra tore off too, and though, that hadn’t been my intention, I couldn’t say the sight of her breasts were unwelcome. In fact, I was so enraptured by the pretty, pink pebbled peaks that I didn’t anticipate the slap until my head snapped left.

”Get out,” Maisie snarled at me.

My fingers rose to my face, caressing the sting. I tasted blood in my mouth. And I thought I might have gone deaf in my left ear. My cock throbbed painfully.

My chest heaved once.

”Maisie?” Regina called out. ”You okay in there?”

Maisie parted her lips. No doubt to scream my ears off. I slammed my fingers over her mouth, muffling the sound. ”Secret?” I whispered along the curve of her ear. ”I like being hit. Especially by you. The harder it is, the harder it makes me.”