King Maker (King Maker 3) - Page 39

“You think after all you did, regardless of your reasons, I’m going to have sex with you… here… ever?”

That last word was said far too weakly for my liking. It was too late to take it back and try for stronger and more resolved.

“I think you want me.” He looked pointedly down at my shirt.

Stopping, I gazed down and noticed what he had. Beaded peaks poked through the clingy shirt, giving away my excitement. I closed my eyes for a second. It was a good thing he hadn’t felt the dampness between my thighs.

One of Kalen’s first demands of me was that I should always wear skirts or dresses for him so he’d have easy access. Though I wore neither didn’t change the fact that I was one thrust away from a good fuck.

Crap, crap, crap. Why hadn’t I gone for my sleep pants before opening the door?

Because I had no idea I would see him tonight, I thought logically.

He stalked forward. I headed nowhere fast. The door was in the opposite direction. He easily caught me in my feeble retreat.

“Kalen,” I pleaded.

“This is going to happen.” His hand cupped and angled my head for what I thought was going to be a kiss. I turned away, knowing that was far too much intimacy and I would crumble beneath him. He hadn’t professed his undying love for me. He’d demanded sex.

“So not going to happen,” I said, trying to find my courage to deny him. I withdrew from his touch and moved toward the opposite wall.

“You are delaying the inevitable, lass. This thing between us gets settled tonight.”

Like a predator, he ghosted up behind me and snaked an arm around my waist. Effectively, he stopped my forward progress and my traitorous body leaned back into his warmth. His possessive touch wormed its way to cup my breast, starting the countdown to my detonation. My fuse was lit, my core on full alert.

With his heat at my back, there was no denying my need. My longing for this man made me weak in the knees. I knew what he could do, dammit, and my body craved it.

His other hand disappeared under my shirt, which rose up to the juncture between my legs. It took milliseconds for his talented fingers to stroke my nub with circular patterns. It didn’t take long for him to bring me to the brink, only to stop.

“What do you want, lass?” he dared.

Damn him and his sexy brogue. “You,” I cried in my frustration. It had been far too long since he had his hands on me.

He began to rub my clit once again after hearing the response he’d wanted. Then he dipped a solitary finger inside me. Stubbornly, I bit back a moan, not wanting to give him any more response than I’d already had.

Just as quickly as his finger glided inside, it slid out my silky depths. If I’d wanted to beg for him to do that some more, I wasn’t given the chance. He surprised me by smearing my arousal across my lips.

“Taste yourself,” he commanded with his cheek pressed to mine.

He reciprocated by sucking that same finger into his mouth, and didn’t that just turn me on more. Kalen was good at all things when it came to pushing my buttons. Imagining myself spread eagle before him made me wetter.

“You know what to say to stop this. It’s universal.”

With that, he spun me around to face him. The green of his eyes was lost in both the dimness of the room and the desire in them. I could have been turned off by his rough handling as he threaded his fingers in my hair. Instead, I grew more aroused the longer he held on. My body was trained for his touch no matter what he offered.

I should have been stronger and demanded he leave. Yet I wanted him any way I could get him. In the end, I feared my surrender and hoped I wouldn’t be too hurt emotionally in the process.

With a fist full of my hair, he tugged back and I released a gasp, not a protest. He pushed up my shirt with his other hand and tugged off my offending underwear as if it was tissue paper. My thong never stood a chance.

Like the very first time we had sex, I was amazed at what he could do one handed. He freed himself in record time. When he finally let go of my hair, he quickly lifted me up. Without any more foreplay other than the raw tension between us, he impaled me on his cock.

My body was so ready for him. There wasn’t much resistance other than adjusting to his size, his thickness, him. He stood holding me by his own strength without plastering me to the wall.

My head fell back and another sigh, something akin to being home again, left my lips. He lifted me up and down upon him as if I weighed nothing. The delicious friction caused small moans to fill the room that I was unable to suppress.

Tags: Terri E. Laine King Maker Billionaire Romance
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