Page 64 of The Kings of Kearny

He dropped another kiss on my clit and glanced up at me beneath his lashes, and this time I went utterly still beneath him. Because damn it, he was beautiful. It was a savage sort of beauty, like looking at a tiger stalking past the bars of its cage and knowing if it ever got out, you were totally fucked. And yet there was something else in his eyes. Something that made me feel safe and appreciated.

Seen.

He’d been taunting me this whole time, but the longer I held his gaze, the less of a teasing edge I saw in his expression and the more a deep-seated desire began to take over. I felt like he was finally letting me see him back.

The last bit of mischief faded from his eyes, replaced by what looked like raw, voracious need. He lowered his mouth back to my aching bud, slicked one long, thick finger into my pussy, and sucked at my clit. My orgasm hit so hard and so fast that my entire body clenched up. Thank God, otherwise I might have been screaming. He lapped at me, urging me on, drawing out every shudder of pleasure until the last waves rolled over me and I went boneless beneath him. He gave me one more lingering kiss and then wiped his face off on the sheets before rising and moving toward the dresser.

I turned my head to watch him, taking in the way his muscles rolled and flexed with every movement. No wonder the Romans had been obsessed with statues of muscular men. There was something so intrinsically carnal about a body honed by years of hard work.

“You should always be naked,” I said, feeling sex-drunk. I might regret the words later, but right now I couldn’t bring myself to care. At least I’d had enough sense left to keep my voice down.

He ripped a condom open and rolled it over his girth, shooting me a look when he was done. “Remember that the next time I say something to piss you off.”

“I want you naked even when you piss me off,” I told him. Because it was true.

His cock visibly stiffened at that, and he prowled back toward me. I expected him to crawl onto the bed, but he dropped to his knees at the foot of it, hooked his arms beneath my hips, and carefully pulled me half off the mattress. I landed in his lap, and even as he steadied me, I was reaching for his dick. I wanted more. Harder. Deeper. Clitoral orgasms were great, but they were nothing compared to cervical ones, which lasted longer and made every nerve in my body simultaneously ignite with pleasure.

He lifted my hips, shoulder muscles straining, and I guided him to my entrance. In one smooth, excruciatingly delicious stroke, I slid down his length until he bottomed out. Like this, we were almost eye to eye, and I watched his lips part on a small, barely audible moan. I had to bite my cheek to hold back an answering sound. He was bigger than any other man I’d been with, and the feel of him filling me up, stretching me out, was almost too much.

His eyes, pupils blown wide with lust, searched my face, a small crease forming between his brows as he shifted his hips back and then surged into me again. My breasts bounced with the movement, and he dropped his gaze to them as if transfixed, thrusting deep again. A surge of fierce pride streaked through me. I loved that I had this effect on him. A moment ago, I thought he’d been in complete control, but now, this close, there was no way he could hide the fact that he was quickly coming undone.

I leaned back and braced myself on the mattress behind me, trusting that he was strong enough to hold my weight up. His hands gripped my ass, steadying me.

“Again,” I said.

He surprised me by leaning forward, into me, shifting our angle, the skin of his lower abdomen slicking over my clit as he slammed home. And then his lips were at my neck again, just below my ear. The heat of his breath warmed my skin as he started a steady rhythm. His strokes were deep and even, his pace smooth. Just like last time, Jakob treated this like a marathon instead of a sprint.

He rose up a little, and I hooked my legs around his waist. Like this, I had to arch my back to keep the contact of his skin slicking over my clit, and it pressed my breasts up as if I was offering them to him. He made a low sound and dropped his lips to my nipple, and I lifted my hand and palmed my other one. I had contact everywhere I needed it, was being stimulated on so many parts of my body that the pleasure was beginning to blur together in a way that made me feel weightless and dizzy.

“Jakob,” I said, helpless to stop the keening moan building in the back of my throat.

His mouth crashed against mine, lips working as he thrust his tongue inside. I gripped his shoulders and shifted my hips with his, losing myself to the lust coursing through me. He hit a spot deep within me that felt so good I wanted to scream for him, but I couldn’t. Instead, he drank down the noises I made and continued to drive into me, slow and steady. I clenched my eyes shut as another orgasm built. If my first one had been hard and fast, this one rolled through my body with the slow, devastating force of a tidal wave. It felt like I came for minutes on end, my inner muscles squeezing so tight that Jakob could barely move.

He pulled out when it passed and turned me around so that I faced the bed. The mattress sat on a platform, low enough that bent at the hips like this, I could fold forward and rest my sweat-slicked upper body on the sheets. I still shuddered with aftershocks from the strength of my orgasm when Jakob gripped my hips and, in one smooth thrust, buried himself in me from behind. I thought he would pick up the rhythm now. His dick felt huge inside me; he had to be close. But he just kept up that same, torturous tempo, and when one hand snaked around so he could stroke his fingers over my clit, I knew he wasn’t finished with me yet.

I gripped the sheets in my fists, scrambling for purchase. “I can’t,” I whimpered. If I came again, I would have an aneurysm. I just knew it.

“Yes, you can,” Jakob said, voice low and demanding. “Give me another one, Krista.”

His fingers picked up speed on my clit, and soon I was shoving my hips back to meet his thrusts, my body moving on an instinctual level as I chased after another mind-melting rush of release.Oh no,I thought, as a deep, aching pressure built inside me. I couldn’t survive another one, could I? But it was like my second orgasm had never really faded, and soon I had to bury my face in the sheets to smother the high-pitched sounds of need I was making.

I tumbled over the edge a second later, spine bowed, slamming my hips backward. Thank God for the A/C unit and the nearby washing machine, otherwise the sounds of our skin slapping together might be audible to anyone walking by the room.

Jakob’s fingers left my clit and landed on my good hip. His other hand gripped my shoulder. He yanked me toward him and thrust hard, dick stiffening inside as my orgasm triggered his. The feel of him pulsing deep against my cervix prolonged my pleasure, and by the time it faded, I collapsed, spent.

Jakob slid out of me and pulled me off the mattress, gathering me against him. Our skin was slicked with sweat. I felt his heartbeat pounding against my back, proof that he’d come as hard as I did.

“Holy hell,” I panted. Three orgasms. My thighs shook. If not for Jakob’s arms banded around my waist, I would have sunk to the floor in a heap of useless flesh.

He dropped his lips to my neck and made a low, appreciative sound. “I knew you had another one in you.”

“Don’t sound so smug about it. You almost killed me.”

“Nah,” he said. “You’ll get used to the feeling.”

Used to three back-to-back orgasms? “Are you sure that’s safe?” I said, my voice little more than a squeak.

He chuckled, the vibration of his laughter moving through me in a way that sent another small aftershock of release rolling through my core. It was like he’d set something seismic off inside me.

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