I wanted her to be my wife as well as my life because then maybe people would have a better chance at fathoming the depth of my feelings for my woman, but I couldn’t do that.
Not now.
Not when I was prospectin’ for The Fallen and shit with the Venturas was so bad, I was thinkin’ we’d be mountin’ a full-scale gang war against them sometime soon. Not when Staff Sergeant Danner was makin’ it his mission to take down my father by any means necessary. Even if those means weren’t so legal.
How could I ask the best woman I knew to put herself in the line of fire just so I could have the male satisfaction of seein’ my ring on her finger?
The only reason I’d waited so long was to give her time to know her new self, the one born of our love that she’d been hidin’ inside herself like a second soul for so many years. Wasn’t fair to my girl to make her mine before she’d even really had a chance to be hers.
So I didn’t like Cress bein’ my “girlfriend” or this kid callin’ her Professor Irons instead of Professor Garro, but I could live with the bad taste in my mouth so long as she was safe.
“Yes, unfortunately sometimes, this bossy boy is mine,” she said with a frown that she undercut with twitchin’ lips. “I’ll be in my office next week if you need any help then, Mary. Okay?”
Mary nodded her head, shot me a quick look accompanied by a fierce blush, then hustled up the stairs and outta the room.
“Having fun?” she asked me with a cocked brow and a hip at the same time, sass personified.
I smirked at her. “Always, with you.”
She shook her head at the ceiling. “How am I supposed to be irritated with you when you’re always romantic as hell?”
“Is hell romantic?” I asked, leanin’ forward to tag her hand and pull her between my legs so I could fit my hands around her waist.
“For the morbid and the literary.”
“Dante might argue that.” I ran my nose down the line of her open shirt so I could smell her warm apple scent. “Not sure he found anything romantic in the circles of hell.”
She shrugged, but a hand found the back of my head and began to comb through my curls. “I think anyone who’s read the Inferno or Purgatory would disagree even with the author himself. An adventure to the bowels of hell is not without its magic and beauty. And isn’t that what romance is?”
“You tell me.” I softly bit the top inner crest of her breast and looked up at her with my cheek to her chest.
“That’s what you make me feel,” she whispered as she tipped her head down to feather her lips and her words against my forehead like fairy dust. “Magical and beautiful.”
“You are,” I agreed easily as I let one hand wander down her outer thigh, then back up under the hem of her tweed skirt so I could feel the texture of her thigh-high stocking give away to silky bare skin just before I reached the satin of her panty-covered sex. I traced my index finger along the edge of the fabric and ran my thumb over her clit. “Show you just how much magic and beauty we can make, babe.”
She softened slowly, melted warmly like butter poolin’ in my palm, but her low-lidded eyes darted toward the door at the top of the stairs. “King…” she breathed, but it wasn’t a true protest.
My girl liked the risk, the tang of danger that resonated metallic as blood on the back of the tongue.
I planted my palm on her belly and pushed her backward until her ass hit the desk, then farther until her hips canted and my momentum pushed her on top of the wood. I swallowed her gasp and ate at her sweet mouth until that lost breath turned into a deep moan.
My cock throbbed harder and harder as she sank deeper into her desire for me. I loved the evolution of this classy, educated woman into a sensual wanton who came alive just for me.
Nothin’ else made me feel worthier of my namesake.
More like a fuckin’ king.
I slid my fingers under the crotch of those panties, felt her wet against the back of my knuckles, and ripped. The fabric gave way, and I wasted no time in slottin’ my hot cock against her openin’. I sank my other hand into the thick hair at the back of her head and tugged so that her mouth bloomed open for me, pantin’ and wet, and her gaze clingin’ to mine.
“You’re mine,” I told her. “And I can take you wherever I want, can’t I, babe?”
She blinked slowly, lids tremblin’ and heavy. “Yes.”