King Tomb (Page 48)

And he didn’t stop there, doing as he said he would do.

Even though our heartbeats hadn’t even begun to calm, our aftershocks barely through, he pulled out of me and lowered his mouth to my flesh.

“Is there something you need?” the green-eyed devil purred quietly against my ear as he thrust into me firmly but gently from behind. On my knees, my hands dug under his pillows to press against the headboard. I whimpered against the plush black pillow, trying to push against his fingers more firmly where he had wrapped his arm around and under my waist, his fingers teasing my cl*t endlessly, taking me to the edge…only to stop before I got there, tormenting me. “I’m about to cum…and you know what I want…” He gently massaged with his fingers, making me jerk and moan, driving his h*ps against mine harder. His body began to tighten around me, proving he wasn’t lying. “Say it, sweetheart, and I’ll take you with me.”

He had made good on his word, tasting every part of my flesh, and already having given me the two orgasms earlier, and then another one with his damn talented mouth and tongue and fingers. But he had been going at it slow this time. He was building my orgasm to a fever pitch, so I trembled under him in need, a literal haze beginning to blind me. I shouted in frustration, again trying to press more firmly against him, but he only gripped my hip tighter with his free hand, groaning a chuckle, his body starting to tremble.

“Asshole,” I groaned low.

Again, he chuckled gently, his chest vibrating against my back. “That’s not the word I want,” he rumbled, biting my shoulder — without fangs, since I hadn’t offered up my blood — his thrusting c**k pumping faster inside me. “I can’t hold out much longer.”

“Oh, God,” I groaned, shaking my head back and forth, feeling his c**k stretch my slick channel to perfection. I shouted when he started rubbing faster with his fingers…only to f**king stop. “Fine…fine…I’ll say it.” I thrust my h*ps back. “Just stop toying with me.”

“Now.” A harsh demand. “Say it.”

“Fine,” I groaned. “Baby. There. Now do it! Please, baby.”

“Fucking right, wife,” he growled low as he drove into me more forcefully, his steady drives altering to a more hammering rhythm as he shouted my name, filling me repeatedly, the friction mesmerizing and making me scream as he pinched my cl*t firmly and rubbed in solid and quick motions like his cock.

We both stilled at the same time, and I shoved back against him as he slammed his h*ps against mine, sliding further inside my channel’s depths. Our shouts sounded in unison as we fell over the edge, our pleasure consuming us, a sensual mist shrouding me in flames of warmth as my channel pulsed in time to his c**k pumping his hot cum deep inside me. Our bodies trembled against each other in mutual pleasure. Bit by bit, we slid flush to the bed’s satin sheet, our chests heaving and heart rates slowly lowering.

Half passed out in pleasure and exhaustion, I barely heard him whisper against my ear, “You’re all mine, sweetheart.”

With his body’s warmth crushing my backside in a comfortable way, I tilted my head a smidge and yawned. Eyes closed, on the edge between awareness and sleep, I murmured, “And you’re my husband.” I yawned again, snuggling the side of my face into the pillow. “All mine, baby.”

And blessedly sated, I went under, unconsciousness taking hold, and he lifted away from me, the action feeling like a dream itself. His heat was gone for only a moment before it returned next to me as he furrowed his hand under the pillow my head rested on and slid my wedding ring back onto my thumb with a slightly cautious kiss to my damp forehead.

Chapter Eleven

Waking to the sound of an alarm clock buzzing, I yawned. Then I froze when I felt what was, by all accounts, a hot, na**d body lying behind me — actually spooning my own na**d frame — reach over me and slam their arm down, the thwack of flesh smacking plastic sounding.

The alarm stopped.

Startled, my eyes flying wide open, I viewed my surroundings as I scented the air. The most potent smell was that of the man burrowing his arm back under the black blanket over us and running his warm palm down my arm to my hand and entwining our fingers so that our thumb rings, our wedding rings, rested against each other. It was Ezra, my husband, and slowly the memory of last night filtered through the haze of sleep I lingered in. Sighing softly, I relaxed a smidge, even if still a little apprehensive of what this day after our carnal events of last night might bring, and I snuggled more firmly against his heated body.

He grunted softly, mumbling sleepily, “Don’t wiggle your ass like that or we’ll be in this bed all morning long and people might wonder where the hell we are.”

I stilled, whispering, “Sorry.”

He squeezed my hand, his voice gruff with sleep. “Plus, I have to pee.”

I blinked then chuckled softly. “I married a romantic.”

“A realist, more like.” He sighed. “Hell, now I seriously have to pee.”

Glancing at the time, I then stared at the poor alarm clock, which appeared to be on its last leg, as if it had been in one too many fights with my Vampire husband and had lost most of those battles. “You know, when you have to start duct taping your alarm clock so it’ll stay together, it’s probably time to get a new one.”

“If you can’t duct it…,” he rumbled, stretching behind me, his legs interweaving with mine, the coarse hairs on his legs tickling my smooth skin.

I blinked. “Maybe I could find one for you that’s industrial grade.”

He snorted. “I’d rather not have an alarm clock with Bambi buttons or duck designs or cartoon characters on it.” A pause, then polite words. “But thank you for the thought.”

I scowled at the ugly alarm clock. “I wouldn’t get you one like that, but even if I did, it would be better than that eyesore.”

“I like that eyesore, so don’t even think about it.” He pulled me onto my back and lay on top of me in one swift motion. Remarkable, sleepy green eyes stared down at me, his red and black hair a rumpled mess all over his head. He actually appeared adorable like this as his gaze scanned my face, which I would never tell him since he was a man who prided himself on being tough and cruel, so he would probably take my assessment as a knock to his virile ego. Leisurely, he lifted his hand and placed his index finger on my chin, and he began gliding it down the curve of my jaw, making me want to lean into the touch as he watched his digit’s motion. “And I didn’t mind you so much sleeping in bed with me.” His lashes lifted, granting me better access to his striking eyes as he spoke quietly, “How about you?”