All Chapters of TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING: Chapter 351 - Chapter 360

EMBER’S POVI lean down, my mouth brushing the shell of his ear, and roll my hips once, dragging my soaked cunt along the rigid length of him. He jerks under me, wrists straining hard against the cuffs.“You made me think Rafael was in the house,” I whisper, rolling my hips again, letting him feel exactly how wet I am. “You dragged me out of bed. Scared the life out of me. Then had the nerve to call it romance.” Another slow grind. His cock twitches under me, and I smile against his ear. “The scales must be balanced. Elder Catherine agrees. Queenie agrees, enthusiastically. And you—” I rock against him again, slower this time, savouring the way his whole body tightens under me “—you are going to lie right there and learn, in exhaustive detail, exactly what happens to men who viciously prank their wives.”“Ember.” It comes out half warning, half plea, his wrists pulling hard at the cuffs, every muscle drawn taut under me. “Ember.”“That’s my name.” I sit up, smiling down at him, the he

EMBER’S POVAnd goddess, it’s tempting. The herb is singing in my blood too, making everything hotter, needier. But I shake my head and press my mouth to the pulse hammering in his throat instead.“Nice try,” I breathe against his skin. “But I’ve waited all day for this, and I am going to enjoy it. You’ll get your turn.” I pull back and smile down at him. “Eventually. When I decide you’ve earned it.”“Ember—”“Say please.”He glares at me, chest heaving, pride warring with want. I wait, patient, savouring every second of watching the King lose.“…Please,” he finally says, wrecked.And I lean down to give him exactly what he asked for.I slide down his body slowly, taking my time. When I reach his trousers, I unbutton them with deliberate fingers and free his cock.He’s so hard it looks painful — thick, flushed, dark, the head already leaking. The herb has him throbbing in my hand.I wrap my fingers around the base and give one slow stroke, watching the way his stomach jumps.“Ember—”

EMBER’S POV“You were so fucking smug chaining me up… and now you’re just a shaking, dripping mess. Couldn’t even last ten minutes once I got my hands on you.”He bites the back of my shoulder, then flips me onto my back again. This time he hooks both of my legs over his arms and folds me in half, nearly bending me in two as he slams back into me. The angle is brutal.He’s so deep I can feel him in my stomach.“Mine,” he growls, staring down at me with pure possession. “This tight little cunt is mine. You are mine. And I’m going to fuck every smart little plan you had tonight right out of your head.”He does.He fucks me until I’m crying from how good it feels.He makes me ride him while he sits up against the headboard, one hand on my throat and the other gripping my hip, biting and sucking marks into my skin while I bounce on his cock.Every time my movements get sloppy he growls and thrusts up hard, forcing me to take him deeper.“You wanted to edge me all night? Look at you now —

EMBER’S POV“Absolutely not,” Nathaniel says. “I refuse.”“You don’t get to refuse.” Queenie doesn’t look up from the tablet. “You’re the getaway.”“I am the strategist. I engineer the plan. I do not sit in a car.”“You sit in a car.”We’ve been at it for two hours, spread across the war table in Knox’s east study — me, Knox, Queenie, and Nathaniel, who arrived this morning with three encrypted drives and a face like a man who has slept four hours in the last three days.And I have learned two things.One: planning a heist is much less glamorous than the word “heist” would suggest.Two, whatever fragile thing exists between Nathaniel and Queenie right now is going to make the next several hours deeply uncomfortable for everyone in this room.“Let’s start from the top,” I say, because someone has to. “The casino. What am I walking into?”Nathaniel pulls up an image on the big screen. A building, sleek and dark and windowless, tucked into the mountains a few hours out, the kind of place

EMBER’S POV“Ember—”“No. No. You want me to walk into the most dangerous room on the continent, in front of a room full of rogues who read lies off your skin, and sell that I’m there to—to violently edge a bloodthirsty street-fighter while pop-quizzing him on car parts?!” I gesture wildly. “Why does it have to be that? Why can’t I just be a bored heiress who wants to gamble? Rich people gamble! That’s a whole thing rich people do!”“Because gambling gets you the ground floor,” Nathaniel says patiently. “And the ground floor doesn’t touch Devika. The floor she runs — the floor where the real secrets get wagered — you only reach it two ways. You either spend twenty years building a reputation at the Slaughterhouse, or you walk in as a whale, and the whales are the ones who come with the most impressive fetishes. Exclusivity is the whole architecture of the place. Money isn’t enough. You have to want the expensive thing.” He shrugs, one-shouldered. “And the expensive thing is a bad nigh