Submitting to My Lycan Prince Mate

50 Liam's Past

Claire's POV

In the dimly lit room, I lay exhausted on the disheveled bed. Prince Louis held me tightly against his body, embracing me.

He buried his head in the crook of my neck, using his wet, scorching tongue to lick my skin. Several hours had passed, yet our bodies remained connected. This position didn't allow for excessive force, only gentle friction against my most sensitive spot, but it felt like a different form of torment to me.

My garden was swollen, filled with what he had released earlier. Each time he brushed against my most sensitive point within, I let out hoarse moans, unable to stop curling my body in response.

But still, he wouldn't let me escape.

My hands remained bound together, wrists marked by red imprints from the tie. He used his hand to touch the area where we were joined, occasionally stimulating my c.litoris.

Despite being fed water a few times, I had long exhausted my stamina in this endless hell of o.rgasms. I was nothing more than a broken doll being manipulated recklessly on the bed, feeling the searing object reenter me with a newfound depth—

"Louis," I finally couldn't hold back, sobbing as I begged him again, "How can you possibly let me go? I can't take it anymore..."

The man behind me emitted a low, raspy laugh, his sensual voice combined with the stimulation below almost causing me to convulse once more.

He nibbled on my earlobe and softly asked, "What's wrong? Don't you like this? You've climaxed so many times, yet you pleaded for me to go faster earlier."

As he finished speaking, he rolled over, pinning me beneath him. I was on all fours, my hands pressed against the headboard, as he violently thrust into me.

"Can you hear the sound of water? What a sensitive body you have. You actually want me to be rougher, don't you? "

It was as if he had flipped some twisted switch within me; he kept provoking me with various words. His words left me burning, and involuntarily, I started to envision that scene—I was like a mindless female beast, groveling beneath him, humbly begging for pleasure...

Suddenly, a trembling, icy-cold object pressed against my c.litoris!

Almost the moment it came into contact with my body, I reached c.limax. My fingers clenched the pillow, every muscle in my body trembling, as if I were about to break free from Louis's grasp.

The scream was caught in my throat, and amidst the dizziness, I could almost see Louis's lips curl into a cruel smile. He held my neck tightly, disregarding my confused pleas and my body still in the throes of or.gasm, only increasing his speed, allowing me no chance to catch my breath.

I was on the brink of losing consciousness from his relentless actions; the continuous waves of o.rgasm seemed never-ending. I sobbed in a state of collapse, ravaged repeatedly like an object by him, and the suffocating darkness gradually enveloped me.

After the final or.gasm, utterly exhausted, I slipped into unconsciousness.

The next afternoon.

Prince Louis, bare-chested, stood at the bedroom doorway, and I promptly smacked him in the face with a pillow.

"Pal," he feigned calm, as if trying to console me, "I didn't mean it. It was just a bit carried away yesterday. Fancy something to eat? Shall I feed you?"

"Get out! No coming in!"

I buried myself under the sheets, my voice hoarse to the point of nearly losing its original tone, and yelled at him.

There's not a single part of me that isn't sore now, as if I've just emerged as a survivor of a royal rumble. Especially my garden, I can barely sense its existence anymore.

All that reverence for the monarchy, all that awe for the prince, it's all gone from my heart after last night.

The scoundrel was an absolute beast! Ah!

Thinking about how he had mercilessly pushed me to my limits last night while I begged for mercy, it made my blood boil with anger.

"Get out! I don't want to see you!" I shouted in a fit of shame.

Louis scratched his head and turned to find Alfred standing by with his hands behind his back. He glanced down at the marks I'd left on his body, sighing.

"I'll go downstairs for a meal," he said, wisely opting for a relatively serious topic to converse with me, "Alfred, could you try to calm her down?"

Alfred replied coldly, "Your Highness, I am merely a butler."

In the end, Prince Louis found himself sitting by the bedside with his lunch, under my icy gaze.

"Regarding the exchange student matter, I've already discussed it with the headmaster of the Royal Academy," he cleared his throat, wisely choosing a more formal topic to communicate with me, "They've confirmed that they can start classes next Monday."

I gave him a cool glance but still opened my mouth and swallowed the food he handed me.

Because I was hungry.

"I'm worried that they might be bullied by the local students as exchange students in the Royal Academy," I had concerns about this matter and, despite my sore throat, I still proactively asked.

"I wouldn't know about that," Prince Louis shrugged, "You know, I never attended that school."

I frowned slightly, curious, "Why not?"

"Because it's Liam's alma mater," Louis said casually, "When he was there, he practically beat up every guy in his year. I don't want to end up cornered in the bathroom by those blokes once I step inside."

I chuckled at his words.

Seeing my smile return, Louis breathed a small sigh of relief. He ventured, "Would you like to hear about Liam's stories?"

"Is it okay?"

I looked at him, concerned that it might bring up painful memories.

"Pal," Prince Louis's face lit up with a hint of a smile, "I'm more than happy to share everything with you, including my past."

So, I nodded, but quickly wore a stern expression to remind him, "This doesn't mean I'm not mad at you anymore. You understand?"

Louis: "...Understood."

He sat on the edge of the bed, slowly beginning to recount the tales of his older brother.

In Prince Louis's eyes, Liam, his elder brother, was a generous and domineering Alpha. Excelling in academics, decisive in his actions, strong in prowess, full of charm, he had garnered countless followers since school days and possessed all the necessary qualities to be a king.

"Even Garfield, who you can't stand, was once captivated by Liam's charisma," Louis sighed, "He thought Liam was a hundred times better than me, that I couldn't compare to my brother in any way."

"I don't see it that way," I remarked.

Noticing his gaze, I spoke earnestly, "You don't have to take that jerk Garfield's words to heart. He's just envious of you."

Louis stared at me, somewhat lost in thought.

"He's envious of me?" he softly inquired, "Envious of what?"

I pressed my lips together, starting to regret uttering those words.

However, looking into Louis's determined eyes, I quietly revealed my inner thoughts, "I think he's just jealous that it's you who survived."

The room fell silent.

After a moment, Louis lowered his head, placed the now-empty bowl aside, and let out a soft sigh.

"You're right," he said, "Actually, I've thought the same thing."