Chapter 14 #3
When he didn’t respond, nor move, I searched his tightened features. Harsh breaths sawed between his gnashed teeth. His eyes squeezed shut a moment before he groaned and dropped his head to my neck.
My feet fell to the bed. I frowned at the ceiling between the bedframe. “Brey?”
No answer.
Just heavy breaths. They dampened my skin, my hair sticking to my neck. His mouth pressed against both as his shoulders heaved.
I reached up to touch them. When I trailed my nails down his back, his violent shiver pushed his cock deliriously deep.
I bit back a moan.
“No,” Brey panted—pleaded. “No touch.”
Smirking, I removed my hands. “Are you all right?” Again, there was no response, and I remembered what he’d asked me earlier. “Good?”
“Too good,” he exhaled out.
Grinning wide and unabashed because he couldn’t see it, I tortured him by dragging my nails through his hair and down his back once more.
He didn’t just shiver. His entire frame now trembled. “Ethel.” He groaned when my nails reached the top of his ass. “Fuck.”
“Let your hips move.” Fighting an orgasm when he evidently couldn’t win was pointless. Turning my head, I whispered tauntingly to his sweat-misted temple, “Let yourself fuck me, Brey.”
Still, he merely trembled atop me.
So I returned my feet to his ass and pushed him against me as I rocked into him.
A low growl filled my ear and caused gooseflesh.
Then he finally moved.
He pounded into me with no rhythm and sheer violence. I clung to his back, nails digging into his skin. Yet pleasure unfurled.
Seven thrusts, and he growled again. Louder this time. It morphed into a garbled groan as his body jerked—then he tensed and shuddered and gasped. His teeth latched onto my skin. As he emptied inside me, his cock delved so deep that it almost hurt.
Just before it did, he slumped over me.
My feet met the bed again. Some moments later, he realized it was hard for me to breathe and cursed. He muttered an adorably choked apology.
I didn’t tell him not to worry, nor that I didn’t need to breathe.
Brey pushed up onto his hands. Hair falling to my cheeks, he searched my face with his lip drawn between his teeth. Searched for disappointment or maybe even judgment.
Any other time, with any other man, I certainly would have been disappointed.
But I was here. I was lying beneath him.
And as I watched him watch me with those ever-assessing eyes, all I felt was a strange sort of swelling within me. Perhaps I was simply honored that I’d taken the king’s innocence.
As if sensing as much, something like wonder glinted in his eyes. “Are you not…” He swallowed harshly. “Bothered?”
I stroked my fingers down his side to his ass.
Brey’s eyes closed. He twitched inside me—hardened until I felt impossibly full once more.
Smiling, I said, “Define bothered.”
He knew exactly what I meant, and his rasped laughter softened the sharp edges of his features. He lowered onto his forearms, put his mouth against mine, and rocked his hips.
My breath caught.
Well aware that I liked it, he retreated to watch me. He rocked his hips again and again until he pulled a loud moan from me. Only then did he cease staring to kiss me—hard enough to halt my heartbeat.
“I want to see you come undone on my cock.” He lifted his head. “I want to feel it.”
“I want to,” I panted.
He stared again, intensely focused as he rotated his hips.
As pleasure sparked and spread, quaking my limbs.
“Tell me.” There was no vulnerability. No hint of uncertainty lingered in his voice.
That feline confidence returned, and I was given an order.
“Tell me exactly what to do to make you come for me.”
“What you’re doing. Just—” We both moaned when he slowly withdrew his cock from my body.
He pushed back in and ground against my clit. “Just?”
“Like that,” I gasped out, clawing at the bedding. “Just like that.”
His eyes gleamed. Feral satisfaction transformed his features into something both sinister and utterly ethereal as he took his time thrusting in and out of me.
Each time he filled me, he rocked his hips.
But he watched my reactions, listened to my every breath and moan, and his movements became divinely precise.
Too precise.
“There,” he crooned, and proceeded to deepen each agonizingly slow thrust.
I reached for his face.
He denied me with a low and almost insidious laugh. Purred, he taunted, “Good, lethal?”
He knew damned well it was. He knew because my hands slid down his biceps while I writhed beneath him, desperate and fucking mewling. “Brey,” I whined.
He shivered. “Though I could listen to that forevermore…” Intent on torturing me, he said, “My question still awaits an answer.”
But I wasn’t the only one being tortured.
His nostrils flared. His jaw had long tightened. Sweat dampened his hairline and slicked his skin where I gripped it with force.
He couldn’t hold on much longer.
So I grabbed my breasts. I squeezed them and brushed my nipple with my thumb. Then I moaned, long and loud, as I arched my back.
Distracted, Brey’s pace increased just enough to send me careening over the edge.
Breath failed me, silencing the cry that scraped my throat. My back arched even more as my quaking thighs twined tight around his waist.
Brey groaned. “Look at me.” When I did, he cursed and followed. His thrusts became erratic, then he stilled. His head tipped back, and a sighed moan dragged up his corded throat. For the fourth time this evening, his powerful physique shuddered.
I’d never seen anything more magnificent in my life.
I must have said the thought out loud—for when the king slowly lowered his head, a slight flush had entered his cheeks.
And I forgot to care about my foolish admission.
I cupped his warm cheek. “I think it’s my destiny to make you blush too, Majesty.”
“I’ll approve this mission.” Turning his mouth into my palm, he kissed it. “If you tell me how you might like to achieve it.”
I grinned.
Then I pushed him free of my body and onto his back. “How about I show you?”
As I straddled him, I thought he’d tell me to wait. That we’d played enough and he couldn’t possibly orgasm again.
But he gathered me to his chest and tucked some of my tangled hair behind my ear. “Lethal indeed.” Eyes stuck to mine, heavy-lidded and hungry, he murmured, “Kiss me first.”
Languidly, I did.
And while I spent the rest of the evening showing him nothing but my desire for him, he spent it learning, adoring, and tormenting me in ways I feared I would never recover from.