CHAPTER 14 - Nighttime Relief

Ryan My boots hammered the wooden floor, carving a line in the thick rug with every turn. Lyra's words echoed in my skull, sharp as claws. Those damn emerald eyes had seen right through me, exposed the raw mess beneath. She'd pushed me to the edge, and then just... walked away. Didn't even beg, or plead, or try to stay. Fury choked me, hot and tight. It made me flush. The heat starting in my belly, then moving rapidly up to the roots of my hair. A growl of frustration ripped through my throat. I wanted to go to her, to ensure she was safe and protected in her new dorm room. The beast within me roaring to claim what was mine. But I held back, muscles taut with restraint. Lyra wasn't yet mine to claim. I stopped pacing and took a deep breath, trying to calm my beast down. The temperature in the room burned hot. Claustrophobic. I needed some fresh air. The cool autumn breeze rushed in. It smelled of earth and decay, an unexpectedly comforting scent. I closed my eyes, imagining Lyra's face - her full lips parted slightly as she breathed heavily, her cheeks flushed from excitement or anger. The memory of her taste lingered on my tongue like honeyed wine. My fingertips tingled with the memory of tracing her soft skin. I stared out at the star-flecked night. In the glass, my reflection glared back - eyes glowing with blue fire, jaw tight with barely leashed frustration. Grasping the windowsill, the wood splintered under my grip. My heart pounded in my chest like a drum. I fought against the primal urge to fly into the night and see if she was all right. Each curve of her body held a promise, whispering of a wildfire barely contained. Her spirit, once a spark, now threatened to ignite us both. Yet she remained distant, untouchable, no matter how I treated her… with tender caresses or with disdain. Damn it! Why did I torture myself this way? She had made her choice clear. She could have stayed with me if she had asked. She chose to go with Sally instead. I wrenched myself away from the window with a low growl. My control was fraying, the beast I kept hidden, snarling against its bonds. I needed to clear my head before I did something I regretted. My shirt hit the floor, buttons scattering with a sharp clatter that pierced the quiet. Each piece of clothing came off with a rough tug, landing in a discarded heap. I'd check her dorm in the morning... maybe walk her to the orientation – play the role of the concerned Alpha. At that moment, though, I had to get away. I could go, hear Brittany sing. Maybe do a bit of dancing afterwards… I swiveled my gaze from the door to the bathroom and back again. The bathroom beckoned, promising the cold sting of the shower. It wouldn't wash away Lyra's smell or the picture of her, but maybe, just maybe, it would cool down the fire roaring inside me. The icy spray hit my overheated skin, but did little to cool the heat of desire. I braced my hands against the tiled wall, letting the water sluice over my tense muscles. Unbidden, an image of Lyra rose in my mind - her lithe form pressed against mine, slick and yielding under the pounding water. As I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, an image of her filled my mind - our bodies moving together in sync. With a shudder, I reached down and palmed my hardening shaft, feeling the smooth skin and the veins that ran beneath it pulsing with need. My hand moved slowly, relishing the sensation of its texture against my fingertips. With each stroke, I imagined Lyra's essence dripping from me, adding to the heat between us. Her sweet scent filled my senses; a heady mix unique to her. The hard peaks of her nipples begged for my touch as she arched into the water like a vessel of desire. My tongue darted out to trace along my bottom lip, wanting to taste her sweetness but only finding its own salty essence instead. As the cool droplets splashed against my skin, a tremor ran through me. I leaned into the sensation, wishing she were really there… My hips bucked forward, seeking release from this torment of wanting something so badly yet not having it within reach. With a groan, I pinched one of my own nipples, savoring the mixture of pleasure and pain that coursed through me as I did so. The fantasy became too real. My desire too intense. I could practically feel the warmth of her body, the softness of her skin, the gentle caress of her hands against mine. As I neared climax, I imagined sinking into the water with her, our naked bodies intertwined in a dance of love and lust. I stroked up and down, matching the rhythm with our imaginary fucking. I growled low in my throat as my orgasm rode on a building wave, my heart pounding in anticipation. The water raining down on me only added to the intensity of the moment. With a final thrust forward, I cried out her name and erupted into a torrent of release. Hot cum shot out in thick streams over my hand and onto the cool tiles below, splashing against them with each powerful pulse. The scent of Lyra filled my nose and my cock twitched slightly with each post-cum-stroke, still hungry for more. My knees weakened but held me upright, and I leaned against the cool tiles behind me for support. Nothing else mattered in that moment except for the connection I imagined… Then like the fantasy, the words she'd spoken came back to me unbidden. 'I'll never be yours.' I cursed under my breath and wrenched the tap all the way cold. The shock of it chased away the tempting vision, leaving me disgusted with myself. Lyra had made it abundantly clear she wanted nothing to do with me. And yet, like a fool, I wanted her to see me not as her captor, but the giver of her dreams.