Page 44 of Making the King

I can see it in the way her shoulders tense, and how her hands open and close into fists, over and over.

“Hit me,” I say, placing my gun on the table by the door.

“What?” she asks, stopping abruptly to frown at me. “No.”

“Fucking hit me,” I urge again, slapping a hand to my chest, asking her to use my body to take out her frustrations.

Slowly, she shakes her head, but the way she bites the corner of her mouth, tells me she’s considering it.

“Come on, Killer. It’ll help with your anger.” I slap my cheek this time. “Hit me.”

And she does. I barely see the punch coming before her fist slams into my jaw, rattling my teeth.

“Shit,” I hiss, eyes flaring wide. “You’re strong. Do it again.”

She does, this time the blow coming to my chest, causing me to cough a little as the wind flies from me.

“Again, Killer!” I yell, feeling the blood in my veins ignite.

This punch slams into my gut, bending me at the middle, and I don’t get the chance to tell her to go again before she swings, but this time, I catch her fist and shove her hard against the wall by the door.

“Fuck me,” I demand, staring into her furious gray eyes as her nostrils flare. “Fuck this anger out of your system. Use me, Cara. Take what you need and fuck me.”

“I don’t know how.” She breathes, even though I can see how much she wants this by the scorching heat in her eyes.

“Then give me permission and let me fuck you until you can’t fucking think anymore,” I demand and fuck, she nods.

“Yes.”

I’m on her in an instant, my lips claiming hers even as I palm her tit through the fabric of her top.

“Get this off,” I growl, moving back as I drop to my knees, happy to see her hurrying to do as I ask.

Working her leggings down, I drag her panties with them exposing her flesh, and my heated gaze travels up her body as she flings her bra to the side.

“Look how filthy you still are.” I press my nose to her exposed cunt and inhale audibly. “My dry cum makes your cunt look like a delectable treat.”

Her heated gaze widens even as her lips part as she watches me close the distance and lick over her seam.

Instantly, her hands fist in my hair, and I love this about her. How she likes to hold on. Make sure I stay there until the job is done.

I wonder if she even realizes she does it.

Flattening my tongue, I press it into her clit as I drag it, and she widens her stance, giving me better access.

“Fuck, Killer. You’re already so wet.”

“I-is that bad? Should I be embarrassed?”

I growl against her mound, gliding my fingers up her inner thigh before pressing two fingers to her opening.

“Fuck no. Wet is good, remember. Wet tells me you want me. Just like a man has an erection, a woman’s slick cunt is her version of a stiffy.”

“Oh.” She cries out, when I sink the fingers into her tight hot heat, stretching her.

As I start working my fingers into the spongy wall of her g-spot, I watch her face transform into a lust crazed expression.

“Tell me how to say beautiful in Spanish,” I ask her, and she presses her head back against the wall as she starts to move her hips, chasing her high.

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