King’s (The King Trilogy #1)(32)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

My gaze fell a bit lower, and I caught something odd in my peripheral vision. Pink, pale skin. Me! Holy shit! Why am in my underwear? I scooped up the top of the sheet and covered my bra. The scene was eerily similar to the dream I’d had only a few days ago.

“From the sound of your frantic heartbeat and near-hysterical breathing,” King said, in a low, groggy voice with his eyes closed, “you must be awake.”

I was horrified. Had I had sex with King? With that…monster? “Why am I almost naked?”

He rolled over and gave me his back. “Because I f**ked you like a beast.”

What? Those were the words he used in my dream.

“No. Please, please no.” I felt the unwanted tears welling in my eyes.

I watched his back inflate and then deflate with a heavy breath. “Don’t flatter yourself, Miss Turner,” he said calmly. “You’re not my type.”

“Why the hell are you na**d in bed with me? Why am I in my underwear?”

“I removed your clothing and sent them to the wash after you passed out.”

Passed out. Passed out? The memories flooded my brain. The pain. Oh my god, the pain. He’d filled my entire body with deep, soul-crunching pain. And the look in his eyes, the way he enjoyed holding me as I agonized, unable to scream or cry, was horrific.

“You…son of a bitch!” I pounded on his back with my fists. I hit and clawed with every ounce of hatred and anger I had. “I’ll f**king kill you!”

King quickly rolled over and caught my arms, pinning me beneath him. “Calm down.”

I lifted my head and pressed my nose to his. “Calm down? You tortured me. You…hurt me.”

His eyes twitched. “I taught you a lesson. That is all. And if I wanted to really hurt you, your body certainly wouldn’t be in such pristine condition this morning.”

“The condition of my body isn’t what I’m talking about. You got inside my head. You…you…got inside…” My words tapered off when I suddenly realized that I had a na**d man pinning my almost-naked body against the bed, our lips inches apart. I felt his heart beating against my br**sts, the weight of him blanketing my body, the coarse hair between his legs pressing into my bare hip.

As if King had suddenly realized the same, his pale eyes locked onto mine. The fringe of black lashes and his thick black stubble made every elegant, masculine feature of his beautiful face more pronounced.

Then I felt the heat of his body and the flesh between his legs harden and elongate against my intimate juncture.

He stared into my eyes, and time seemed to stop. I didn’t know what to do. I was lost in the inexplicably erotic sensations triggered by our bodies touching.

How could I be feeling like this after what he’d just done? It was impossible. Impossible! He had to be doing something to my head.

Slowly, perhaps hesitantly, he lowered his mouth to mine. I closed my eyes and felt my mind melt away into a blissful stream of physical sensations. The heat of his lips, the softness of his tongue slipping inside me, the rough maleness of his body.

A soft sigh escaped my lips as his kiss deepened. I opened my mouth further and allowed him to enter me, to stroke me. And each time he slid his tongue against mine, all I could think of was how good he would feel sliding between my thighs, deeper and deeper.

A dream. Another dream, I thought. Why do I always dream about King? There is no good inside him. But I wanted there to be. I did. Then these feelings would all make some sort of sense.

King began to push his rigid c**k against me, slowly grinding and allowing me to enjoy the feel of our bodies pressing together, igniting. His hand released my wrist and slid down over my neck and shoulder to begin massaging my breast.

We were suddenly caught up in a cataclysmic frenzy of lust, driven by our bodies and not our minds. His hand then traveled from my breast to my hip and stopped behind my knee, where he gave it a little tug to widen my legs for him.

I groaned when the pressure of his c**k hit that sensitive spot head-on.

He moved his mouth over my neck and nuzzled the tender area just below my ear. “I think I found a new punishment; the regret you’ll feel after we’re done.”

Punishment. My eyes sprang open. I looked around the room. Not a dream. Real!

I slammed my fist into the back of his shoulder. “Get off!”

He lifted his head and looked at me. “I believe that’s what I was about to do,” he said in that perfect, gentlemanly tone.

“Not with me, you won’t.” I pushed him away. “Get off me!”

He rolled over and then swung his feet to the floor, his bare back to me. I could see a strange pattern of scars, like crisscrosses over his entire back, as he panted from the exertion.

“Please. D-don’t do that again,” I stuttered.

He blew out a slow breath and then gave his neck a little crack. Without a word, he rose from the bed and headed for the bathroom. His ass was a work of art, perfectly formed, round hard mounds of muscle. I tried not to look. I tried not to let his raw masculinity affect me. But I’d never seen a man like him before.

“Your clothes will be here in a minute. Get dressed. We leave in ten.” He shut the bathroom door, and I took a moment to process. What had he done to me last night? And why, of all things, had he removed my clothes? What a complete SOB.

There was a light knock. I gathered up the bed sheet and wrapped it around my body. I winced as I made my way to answer the door. My entire body felt sore and tender, like I’d overdone it at the gym.

“Yes?” I looked into the hallway, and a young woman held out a bag.

“Yer clothes, Miss Turner.”

“Uh. Thanks.” I reached for them.

“And Mr. King says yer teh be downstairs in five minutes. The car’ll be waitin’.”

“Uhhh…” I glanced at the bathroom just a few feet away. I turned back to the woman. “Mr. King?”

She nodded. “Ay. I just saw him headin’ down.”

“But I-I…” I pointed to the bathroom. “Never mind. Thank you.”

I shut the door and stood outside the bathroom. I wanted to hurl. She couldn’t be right. I’d just seen King enter the bathroom. Was I losing my f**king mind?

I raised my hand to knock, but hesitated. What if he was still inside? Then who had she just seen?

“King?” I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. I pushed it open. Empty. The bathroom was empty.

What’s happening to me?

CHAPTER ELEVEN