Page 65 of Kings Fear No One
An energy ratchets up between us. Heat from tensions boiling over, accompanied by a spine-tingling wave of familiarity.
Maybe, just maybe, we understand each other better than anyone. Nobody else has been through what we have and survived the way we have.
We stand alone on our own island, separate from the rest of humanity.
Still searching for meaning in what we went through. Still faltering for a recovery that doesn’t seem to come soon enough.
My hard gaze anchors to hers, drinking in every beautiful, unique feature. Hers flicks up to mine, just as attuned. Curiosity lives in her eyes, like she’s lost in a thousand questions that run through her pretty little head.
I let myself be greedy. Let my gaze dip down the short slope of her button nose ’til I’ve reached her lips that are full and soft and that she won’t stop nibbling on. What would she think if she knew how many times I’ve imagined pressing mine against them?
All the times I’ve woken after a night she’s spent in my bed and I’ve barely been able to contain myself. I’ve rushed off to the bathroom to handle business, my lust-driven fantasies full of the things I wanted to do to her…
We exist in the suspended moment for what almost feels like an eternity. Then restraint snaps like a band pulled too tight, and I can’t hold myself back another second. I crush my lips to hers, kissing her like I’ve done only in my dreams.
Deep. Hungrily.
A man that’s got no business experiencing something so soft and sweet, yet I’m claiming it for myself anyway.
The Bible and pillow she’s holding onto fall away, crashing to the floor. She arches up into me as my arm curls around her waist and oxygen strangles our lungs. We find a rhythm in the fierce kisses we trade, feeding off each other, fueling the passion that’s exploded.
Fire burning out of control.
We melt together, the moment blurring into quick movements toward the bed. She fusses with the buckle on my belt, her hands shaking. I drag the straps of her dress down her shoulders, exposing the swell of her breasts and then taking one peak into my mouth.
She whimpers as my tongue flicks against the hardening bud. I lick and suck away, filling my hands up with her ass and hips. I’ve got her dress bunched at her waist, savoring how supple and squeezable her bare flesh feels against my rough palms.
My erection hardens to the point of pain, throbbing hard against the constraints of my denim.
How could she ever think I didn’t want her?
I’ve got the opposite problem—I want her too damn much. More than I ever should.
She’s got the kind of body you want to feel against you lying in bed and the kind of sweet smile you want to wake up to in the morning.
She smells like fucking flowers and has the purest heart of anybody I’ve known.
All things that shouldn’t be afforded to me. That I’m not good enough for.
We tug off the rest of her dress and finish unbuckling my pants.
I ease her down on the bed without breaking contact. My mouth’s traveled from her breasts to her neck, a sensitive spot of hers I quickly discover. Little moans pour out of her, fingers sliding into my hair, her hips canting up toward mine.
My cock’s heavy and insistent between her thighs, throbbing away like crazy. Mere inches away from the slick wet heat it craves.
The same wet heat it remembers from the last time I had her. But those times were different. I want to show her it doesn’t have to be like that.
It could be good. It could be fucking fantastic. She could feel things she never imagined. Pleasure that could make her see a galaxy of stars. I could be the man who gives that to her.
We lose ourselves in more passionate kisses. Mouths wide open, tongues lash in teasing. My wide hands canvas the curves of her naked body, pausing along the way to knead and squeeze her flesh. She trembles beneath me, fighting to keep up.
Explore.
Feel the muscles that flex and bulge. Trace the tattoos inked on my skin. Take me into her soft grip as her fingers wrap around my girth and I choke out a groan.
Immediately, she goes to let go, probably thinking she’s done something wrong. My hand clamps over hers, returning it to my hot, thick cock, guiding her in a slow stroke up and down its length. Showing her how I like it to be done.
Our kisses grow wilder, more urgent, as heat floods me. The primal feeling clawing away only heightens. Teysha doesn’t let up, her strokes making my already stiff cock ache that much more. Up and down the silken hard flesh, the pads of her fingers tantalizing against the network of protruding veins.
