Bloodbound to the Lycan King Chapter 222 222: Grace: "Stargazing"

Caine's bizarre behavior is too much for my sleepy brain to compute, and for so reason he seems to be hiding sothing from , only looking at from over his shoulder.

It's too dark to make out what he's doing, but also I have to admit I'm not really focused on figuring it out. Instead, I'm trying not to stare at his butt or how broad his shoulders are or how he slls so damn good.

The man's turning into a closet pervert and I'm not sure how I feel about it.

"Do you want to look at the stars?" he blurts out.

I blink. "The stars?"

"Yes. Outside." He gestures vaguely toward the door with sothing big and bulky in his hand, only to jerk it out of sight again and hold it in front of him. "It's clear tonight."

He wants to go stargazing? At oh-dark-thirty?

I should say no. I should go back to bed, where Sara and Bun are sprawled across my mattress like tiny dictators. I should absolutely not follow this man outside where anyone might see us while wondering if he's going to slam against his truck and have his wicked way with .

Wow, my imagination's really broadening these days.

"Okay," I say, and it's not because I'm tempted by the strange thoughts going through my head. It's not.

The night air hits my bare legs as Caine opens the door, and I imdiately regret not grabbing pants. At least I'm wearing panties this ti, though, and the shirt is oversized enough to cover my thighs.

Still, I tug at the hem, trying to make it longer through sheer willpower as Caine does an awkward waddle out the door and tosses sothing under the camper.

I reach for the light switch for the strip lights on the camper's exterior, but he suddenly jumps up the few steps to cover my hand with his.

"Don't," he says softly.

His touch sends a familiar jolt through —the strange, electric current that connects us, mixed with the brain-lting heat of desire.

"Okay," I whisper, completely lost to whatever sexual siren call he's putting out. My inhibitions are very clearly zero.

He releases my hand, and I miss his touch imdiately.

Everything is quiet and still; this isn't a bustling area at any ti of day or night, but I wonder how many people are in the shadows watching. There's no way Ellie doesn't have at least one spy on at all tis.

The whole "secret relationship" plan is unraveling by the minute, and I can't make myself care a single bit.

Caine suddenly stops, and I nearly crash into his back. He turns and grabs my wrist, his grip gentle but firm.

"Don't trip and fall," he says quietly, like he isn't the reason I almost did.

Still… he has a point. In the darkness, I can barely make out the ground, much less the details of it. And I'm barefoot.

"Okay," I say for what feels like the hundredth ti tonight, letting him guide to Lyre's truck.

He opens the passenger door, not the tailgate.

I slide in, confused. If we're supposed to be stargazing, why are we getting inside the vehicle…?

Before I can ask, Caine nudges my hip, pushing toward the middle seat. I scoot over, my sleep-shirt riding up dangerously high. He climbs in beside and slams the door, plunging us into silence. The little bit of natural noise outside is gone and only the harsh beating of my heart remains.

"What are you—"

My question dissolves into a squeak as he grabs my waist and hauls into his lap, my legs straddling his thighs. He's all hard muscle and radiating heat and…

Ahem.

Other things.

I'm suddenly, acutely upset I'm no longer commando.

"You can look at the stars through the windshield if you want," he says with a smile. But he's positioned facing him, my back to the windshield, making his suggestion completely ridiculous.

It's clear star-gazing is not the point of us leaving the camper tonight, and my face flushes.

My head spins from exhaustion, arousal, and the sudden energy transfer happening where our bodies connect. It's flowing out of faster now, making lightheaded and warm. I lick my lips, trying to think clearly.

"I'm not sure this is a good idea."

" neither," he admits, "but I'll go crazy if I don't touch you."

His warm hands encircle my wrists and tugs down with gentle force, until our foreheads press together in a strangely innocent, intimate mont, even as I can feel the hard length of him pressing against from below.

His exhale warms my face, slling faintly of chocolate.

"I won't kiss you," he promises. "I just want to hold you for a little bit. Can you handle it?"

"Yes," I whisper, ntally kicking myself for not even trying to get control over it from the beginning. I was too busy being dazzled by his… assets.

Sucking in a deep breath, I close my eyes, trying to focus on the torrent of arcana flowing between us. Sothing's different about it tonight. The usual wild rush feels... tar. More contained. Almost obedient, even. When I ntally nudge it to calm down, it actually does, leaving wildly confused.

"Are you upset with ?" Caine asks, and I open my eyes to shake my head at him.

"Just confused, because it's easier to control than before."

He nuzzles his nose against my cheek. Warm breath assaults my ear, sending a tremor through my entire body. "Mmm… Have you been practicing?"

I have, actually, in stolen monts on the road. Testing how quickly I can sense the energy in objects, specifically in cars zooming past. I hadn't realized how second-nature it's beco until the laundromat earlier today. The way I zeroed in on the first dollar bill wasn't random; once I'd pinpointed what I was looking for, I'd known there was sothing there.

Is it possible that even this little bit of practice has had this much effect…?

"A little, but—"

The rest of my sentence dissolves into a gasp as Caine bites my earlobe, my body stiffening when his hips rock up against mine. Heat surges through , pooling low in my belly, and I grind down without thinking.

"You said you wouldn't kiss ," I accuse, though my voice is a little too breathy and lted to have much impact.

"I'm not kissing you, Grace." He drags his teeth down the side of my neck, flicking his tongue against my skin, then bites firmly.

A whimper escapes , and my control over the arcana flowing between us falters. It surges again, wilder now, responding to the spike in my pulse. He slides his hands down, linking his fingers slowly with mine, and the feel of our fingers rubbing together sends electricity zapping up my limbs, then down into the core of . I shiver, every nerve ending achingly aware of everywhere we touch.