King of Me (The King Trilogy #3)(32)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

“I must ensure you are ready. I do not wish to hurt you.”

“I’m ready,” I panted. “I’m ready.” In fact, I was about to orgasm. “Please…”

“If you insist.” He kissed his way up my torso, and the moment his hard c**k was within reach, I had it in my hand, guiding it toward my entrance.

He quickly gripped my wrists and pinned them above my head. “I do not require any encouragement.” Hips slightly raised, he laid the massive bulk of his body over mine and kissed me deeply for several long moments. The anticipation was torture.

He broke from my mouth and kissed the side of my neck, still pinning my arms over my head.

“Oh my God, please. Please…”

He lifted his head and stared into my eyes. “Please what?” he said with a husky voice saturated with sex.

I wanted to say, “Fuck me hard with your thick long cock,” but I didn’t want to shock the poor man with my modern ask-for-what-you-really-want ways. So instead, I simply said, “Fuck me.”

“Is this what you want?” He released my arms, gripped himself in his hand, and began circling the tip of his shaft over my moist entrance teasingly, as if priming his c**k for penetration.

“Yes,” I breathed, bringing my h*ps forward.

He backed off, denying me the end to the sexual torment.

“Don’t do this to me. Please, King, I’m begging you…”

“If you are begging…” He slowly thrust his hard shaft between my legs and gazed deeply into my eyes. Everything became so damned clear. There was no separation of time when it came to love; it saw the past and future in one blinding light. And I’d never let go of that light. Not ever.

“Yes,” I panted.

King thrust himself inside me once more, his hypnotic blue gaze never leaving me. I cupped his face and opened myself as far as I could, wanting to savor the feeling of his thick rigid flesh driving into me, of his body inside mine.

“Harder,” I panted, knowing this might be our one and only chance. “Fuck me harder.”

He smiled with that wickedly wolfish grin I now knew like the back of my hand. “I’d never f**k you, Mia.” He thrust himself so deeply that it stole my breath. “Only love.”

Tears filled my eyes, forcing me to close them from the intensity of the emotion and pleasure while King pounded away, pushing us toward a brilliant light filled with ecstasy. Again and again, he moved his large c**k in and out until my body couldn’t help release that erotic tension in one giant rapturous explosion.

I drove my fingertips into his taut tanned back and cried out. He slid his large hands beneath me and cupped my ass, allowing him to drive his c**k deeper, to hit that special spot head-on, igniting me once more. I moaned for him while he slid and grunted, coming hard inside me.

Moments passed before I even remembered we were lying there in broad daylight, the sun scorching my face, and our bodies covered in slippery, sensual sweat.

“Holy shit, King,” I panted.

“Yes,” his chest heaved with exertion, “I am your king. And don’t you ever forget it, woman.”

I smiled and brushed the sweat-soaked strands of long black hair from his beautifully bronzed face. “Yes. You are.”

Still inside me and still rock hard, he dropped his head to my chest and slowly began moving.

“I need more,” he said.

“Take all you want.” I sighed, gazing up at the beautiful blue sky, three thousand years in the past, knowing that all the pain and suffering had led me to this moment.

And it was…beautiful. Breathtaking. It was everything.

~~~

“Mia, we have to talk.” King hopped from the steaming tub and wrapped his large, lean, and muscled frame in a piece of white cloth.

I sat still, glowing and weak from hours of ravenous lovemaking. The man was insatiable. In fact, at one point, I had begun to wonder if he’d taken some sort of ancient herbal supplement because I’d never heard of a man coming twice in a row, then being ready for another round thirty minutes later. But he did. And he had. And after a sensual swim in the ocean—our bodies and lips glued together the entire time—to rinse the sand from our sticky skin, we’d dressed and returned to his chamber. He ordered a day’s worth of food—wine, fruit, bread, and cheese—my favorite meal of all time—and instructed the guards to ensure we wouldn’t be bothered until further notice.

We ate, we drank, we shared stories. He told me about growing up on the island, and of the pressure knowing he’d someday be responsible for so many. He didn’t talk much about his parents or how they died, but I had the impression they’d been loving people who’d instilled the importance of loyalty and duty in their children. When I told King about my family and snippets of the life I’d had before everything changed, he listened with such intensity that I knew he was visualizing every detail. He asked questions about what that part of the world looked like, how many people lived in my “village,” and why I hadn’t married at the age of sixteen.

Yeah, that was kind of cute. But cuter still was the look on his face when I told him lots of women never married, choosing to focus on their careers instead. The open mouth and blinking blue eyes told me that King didn’t get it.

“You are saying that they refuse the protection of a husband?”

“Yep,” I responded.

“And…they are not whores?”

Like I said, it was cute. But cute quickly turned into wicked and sexy the moment his body was ready for more. This last round, though, when he’d bent me over the edge of the tub, his hand bringing me to orgasm three times in quick succession as he pounded his c**k into me, was by far the best. It was as if our bodies were so attuned to one another that every touch, lick, and thrust was perfectly calibrated. I couldn’t imagine ever living without him now—not because the sex was more amazing than anything on earth, but because it was proof we were connected in a way that literally defied…everything. Absolutely everything. Which is also why his desire to talk and the serious tone scared the hell out of me.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” I looked away, knowing that was a huge lie. There were a ton of things to say, like he needed to abandon—forever—any thoughts of sacrificing himself.

“Do not pretend that the situation has changed,” he said.

I looked at the murals of fish and octopi on the wall. “Can’t we just pretend for a few more hours?”