King’s (The King Trilogy #1)(48)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

He stepped even closer, our bodies barely touching, and I shivered. Being so close to King drew out an animalistic urge that had no rhyme or reason.

“You seem to have all of the answers, King. Why don’t you tell me?” I whispered and gripped the edge of the desk behind me.

“I think you secretly crave the dark side of this world. I think it’s what brought you here that night. I think it’s what draws you to me in this very moment when you know how truly f**ked up my world is.” He paused and ran his finger along my jaw, triggering another shudder. “Because you know, Mia, how dangerous I am; I could snap your neck in a simple heartbeat.”

I turned my face, and we were nose to nose, exchanging the air from our lungs, our lips an inch apart. “Then why don’t you, King? Because I’ll never be your obedient pet. You’ll never control my mind.”

He slipped his powerful hands to my waist and pressed his body firmly against mine. His stiff c**k pressed into my stomach and sent a flood of scorching hunger spiraling through my body. “I don’t need tricks to control your mind when I can control your body.” He snaked one arm around the small of my back and pressed himself tighter to me. His warmth, his smell, his hardness were a seductive elixir.

He had to be the devil. He had to be. That was the only explanation that fit everything: his power over me, his strange abilities, his raw sexual energy.

I closed my eyes, wanting to resist the urge to run my hands up his chest, loosen his tie, and unbutton his shirt. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to feel the steely curves of muscles pressed against my na**d flesh. I wanted to feel the weight of him on top of me, sweating, digging, and grinding. I wanted to hear the sound of his hard breath and deep primal groans in my ear as he thrust himself inside me.

King nuzzled my cheek, his breath steaming against my face like a bull about to charge. He leaned his chest into me, forcing me to sit on the desk. He pulled his head back and stared deeply into my eyes. I felt lost in the shimmering depths of silvers, grays, and pale blues of his gaze that seemed more like a dark ocean, swimming with mystery, framed by thick black lashes.

His hands moved from my h*ps to my knees and slowly opened them, hiking up my black dress.

He hit me with the full force of his lips and pushed himself against the juncture between my thighs, reminding me that I’d not worn any undergarments that night.

I nearly fell completely back onto the desk, but braced myself, propping my arms behind me. His lips and tongue were a fiery mess of smooth, soft roughness. He tasted like salt and whisky. He tasted better than any food or drink ever to touch my tongue. He tasted like pure male, pure lust, pure need.

With his one arm pillared at my side, King hovered over my tilted body and cupped the back of my head, smashing our mouths together in a powerful tangle of friction and motion. All I could think of was how I didn’t want this. I didn’t want this dark, ruthless man that was more like a deadly beast designed to break me. But I couldn’t stop what my body wanted.

I thrust against him with my heaving chest and backed him up, breaking the kiss. I sat upright, wanting more than anything to see him, all of him.

Our eyes locked, I slid my hands up his chest and loosened his black bow tie. Then one button, two buttons, three…The look on King’s face was intense and carnal, as if he might devour me while I desperately labored to strip him of his clothes.

Buttons finally worked free, I pulled his shirttails from his pants, where I caught the unmistakable outline of his massive c**k thrusting against his zipper. He bent his head to mine and kissed me again. I shed his shirt and coat to the floor, leaving him bare from the waist up. He held my head tightly to his mouth, sensually working me with his tongue and full lips while my hands satisfied the urge to explore his body.

Broad shoulders, rounded ridges of well-defined pectoral muscles, arms swelling with thick biceps, every inch of King was lean, hard, menacing muscle. When my hands made their way to his rippled abdomen, I jerked back, wanting to drink him in with my eyes.

That’s when I again noticed the intricate tribal collar tattoo covering his collarbone and upper pecs.

I ran my fingers over the design. “What is this?”

“It’s nothing.” He brushed my hand away and returned to ravaging my mouth. His hands glided behind me and unzipped the back of my sleeveless black dress. He peeled it down, running his hot hands over my shoulders. Again he leaned into me, forcing me to tilt back on the desk so he could access my neck. His mouth slid and sucked and massaged its way down. His arm worked its way around my back and forced me to arch my chest into him.

“Mmmm…No bra,” I heard him whisper right before his mouth made contact with my nipple. The sharp suction turned the throbbing ache between my legs into a scorching wave of carnal defeat. There was no going back. I had to give into the rush of wanting something that I shouldn’t, into the rush of holding something so volatile and dangerous close to my skin.

“No underwear either,” I said. My hands reached for his belt and began unfastening.

“I find that very arousing.” His hand journeyed under the hem of my dress and began stroking me with a thick finger. I froze for a moment and groaned, as did he, but then my body quickly answered the urge to rock against his hand.

“That’s right,” he said when I widened my legs further for him.

Oh my God, the way he touched me was pure sin. I had never wanted a man so badly.

Wait. “Condom,” I breathed the word.

King slid his free hand over my tattoo and whispered. “No need for that, Mia.” Then his sinful mouth returned to mine.

No need. No need. The thought of protection evaporated from my mind like a wisp of smoke. Just get him inside me.

The phone on the desk rang, jarring me for a moment, but there was no stopping the momentum, the burning necessity deep inside that begged for King to take me right there on top of that goddamned desk.

King broke our kiss. “I need to answer that.”

“No.” I pulled his mouth back down to mine. I would evaporate into nothing if he stopped.

He reached for the phone and held it to his ear, only stopping our frantic kissing and grinding for a moment to say, “Yeah?”

He kissed me some more.

“Fine,” he said to whomever it was, then hung up the phone, returning his hand to that heated, throbbing spot between my legs.

I unzipped his pants and gripped him in my hands, savoring the feel of his insane thickness, of his length, of his pulsing, velvety hardness.