Page 56 of King

CHAPTER 26

King couldn’t get enough of this woman. She felt like she belonged in his arms, like she was always meant to be there. His hands moved over every curve of her body, memorizing the softness, the heat, and the way she trembled beneath his touch. His mouth claimed hers, fierce and unrelenting, not just wanting more but demanding it.

He had been with women before—plenty of them. But none had ever done this to him. None had ever made him feel like he was on the edge of losing control. It was as if he was standing at the precipice of something he couldn’t name but knew was dangerous as hell. She had a hold over him that both thrilled and unnerved him, and no matter how much his instincts told him to slow down, another part of him wanted to possess her completely.

When Amara’s lips and tongue traced a hot path across his chest, a guttural growl rumbled from deep within him. His entire body tensed, veins bulging as he fought to rein himself in. She was small and delicate, and he had no idea when she had last been with a man. He refused to hurt her, refused to lose himself so completely that he forgot to be careful. And yet, his alphainstincts screamed at him to take her, to flip her around, grip her hips, and make her his in every way imaginable.

“Amara,” he rasped, his voice hoarse with restraint as her tongue flicked across his nipple.

She didn’t answer. Didn’t even acknowledge that she had heard him. That was his breaking point.

He tilted her chin with a snarl, forcing her gaze to meet his. Her lips were swollen, her eyes hooded with desire, and damn if that wasn’t the sexiest thing he had ever seen.

Amara’s breath hitched, but instead of fear, her gaze challenged him. She leaned into him, pressing her body against his, her warmth searing through him.

“Please, King,” she whispered.

King’s restraint snapped like a frayed rope. With a curse, he lifted her off the ground and carried her up the basement steps straight to his bedroom. Once inside, he slammed the door shut with his foot. His mouth crashed against hers, devouring, claiming, branding. There was no turning back now. She was his. And after this, there would be no denying it.

King laid Amara down on the bed, his hands steady but his pulse wild. He took his time undressing her, savoring every inch of skin he revealed, his eyes drinking her in like she was something rare, something sacred. Because to him, she was.

She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

A frown tugged at his lips when she shifted slightly, moving her arm to cover her stomach. The hesitation in her eyes and the uncertainty didn’t sit right with him.

“I’ve lost too much weight,” she whispered, barely audible, but the self-consciousness in her tone cut through him like a blade.

King wasn’t having any of it. “Never hide yourself from me.”

Bending down, he grasped her wrist gently, moving her arm away, exposing the soft curves she tried to hide. His lips pressed against her stomach, slow and deliberate, leaving a trail of kisses that stopped just at the edge of her underwear.

His breath fanned against her skin as he lifted his head, his gaze following the path his mouth had traveled—from the dip of her navel to the swell of her perfect breasts to the soft, parted lips that had already brought him to the brink of madness. And then, finally, to her eyes. Those gorgeous eyes filled with uncertainty, with worry.

King clenched his jaw. He wouldn’t allow her to doubt herself. Not here, not now, and never with him.

“You are beautiful, Amara.” His voice was rough, strained with emotion, and something far deeper than desire. “And if I have to prove that to you every damn day, I’ll do it without hesitation.”

She swallowed, her lips trembling slightly, and when she reached up, cupping his face, something inside him shifted. This wasn’t just lust.

This was something raw. Something real. Never in his life had King made love to a woman. Fucked them? Yes. Owned their bodies for a fleeting moment of pleasure? Absolutely. But this—this was different.

As he slowly slid her panties down her legs, his eyes never left hers. He needed her to see him, to understand that this wasn’t just about physical need. It was more. It was everything. He bentdown, pulling the fabric away, his gaze dropping to the treasure now bare before him. A low growl vibrated in his chest.

No man would ever know Amara the way he was about to. Every inch of her was his. His claim settled deep in his bones, primal and absolute. Lifting his gaze, he met her eyes, dark with desire and something deeper, something he wasn’t ready to name.

“You are mine, Amara.” His voice was rough, a growl of pure possession that he didn’t try to hide.

A shiver ran through her, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she sat up, sliding to the edge of the bed, reaching for his jeans with deliberate intent. He let her. King wanted to watch her, to see how she took him apart with just her touch.

Her fingers worked the button, then the zipper, being careful as she freed him from the denim. A slow, hungry smile curved her lips as she glanced up at him before focusing on the thick length of him.

Stepping out of his jeans, he reached for her, but she beat him to it, wrapping her small, warm hand around him, her thumb teasing the bead of pre-cum at the tip. His jaw clenched as a ragged breath left his lips.

“Amara…” His voice was strained, raw with need.

She didn’t stop. Didn’t hesitate. And as her lips parted, her breath hot against his throbbing length, King knew he was about to lose the last shred of control he had left.

“Fuck!” King hissed, then stopped her. Her sexy grin, as she looked up, told him that she knew exactly what she was doing to him. Never one to pass up a good blow job, King refused to letthat happen now. Later, absofuckinglutely, but right now, he was going to show her how precious she was.

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