Page 114 of Kings Fear No One
Taking all the time in the world to enjoy her curves.
Her hips and thighs. Her breasts and stomach. Her ass as I palm the round shape of it, sliding my hand down the back of her denim jeans.
She gasps into my mouth at the feel of my rough touch. Our tongues tangle, our kisses fueled by passion.
There’s no stopping once we get going. Once we’re so damn turned on we’ve got to have each other right here and now.
I help slide Teysha’s jean shorts down her legs and she pulls out my dick. We’re like addicts fiending for another hit in the second leading up to it—the moment I slide myself inside her pussy and we both groan at how incredible it feels.
I’m surrounded by heat. Slicked in her juices. Clenched by walls that pulse and stretch to accommodate me.
“Damn, baby,” I grunt, my hand on her tailbone. “Tell me you want it. Tell me how it feels.”
“So good,” she breathes, kissing my lips. “I’m so full, Logan. You’re so big.”
“I know, baby. But you can take it, can’t you? You can handle it, right?”
Her brows knit as I draw back then sink back in. She’s closed her eyes, every emotion playing across her beautiful face in real time. I watch her closely, stroking into her, kissing her lips, cussing at how fucking good it is.
The moment runs away from us. We’re enveloped by the pleasure.
The heat that burns through us. The tingling wave that strikes us down.
All the ways we make each other feel as our bodies lead us and we lose the air in our lungs.
We come so hard, we damn near see shooting stars in the sky. They twinkle before our eyes as I slip deep inside her pussy and she squeezes her thighs around my waist. Our lips crash together amid our heavy pants and we hold onto each other like we’re the only thing keeping us grounded to the earth.
We’re the only ones living in this intimate moment. No one else knows. No one else bore witness but us.
It’s only the beginning to the rest of our night.
We return to the apartment more charged than when we started in the field. We rip off our clothes all over again, with me hoisting Teysha back up into my arms and her clawing at my chest.
In a flash, we’re on the bed, bodies slick and limbs tangled. I’m kissing every patch of naked skin within reach, squeezing every curve I can. She writhes under me, so unbelievably sexy, moaning my name a thousand times as I make her come.
I make her whole body seize up, my cock buried deep and my fist in her hair.
Teysha learns yet again the possibilities are limitless—I can satisfy her in so many different ways. So long as we’re together, I always will.
“Yes, baby, squeeze my cock,” I growl, my thrusts hitting all new angles. We’re folded up in another position, her legs thrown over my shoulders. “Squeeze that tight little pussy around my big cock.”
Her cries of pleasure become a song that bounces off the walls. She tips her head back, her mouth agape as her orgasm washes over her. I come in close, silencing her cries with a hard kiss, stroking harder and faster as I’m right behind her.
Mine is even more satisfying knowing I’ve already pleasured her. I’ve earned my release, planting myself deep, groaning at the soft, hot pussy I spill into.
We’re so damn drunk in the aftermath that we can’t stop smiling. We can’t keep our hands off each other as we lay tangled together, soaking up the post-orgasm high.
But only one thing’s on my hazy mind—how unbelievably lucky I am in this moment.
It weighs on me how undeserving I still feel that Teysha wants this; she wants to be with me.
After everything that’s happened and all that we’ve been through, she’s chosen to be my wife. She’s chosen me as her husband. It didn’t start out that way, but what was once forced has become something else altogether.
It’s grown into something that’s real and deep.
Something I don’t think I can ever let go of.
I stroke her cheek and she smiles at me—the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. The dark threads that are her hair spill across my pillowcase, her brown skin radiant and dewy from what we’ve just finished doing. The rest of her is wrapped up in my bedsheet, the cotton fabric molded to her curves.
