Page 20 of The King is Dead
When I touched it, something pulsed.
Her.
Want and fear and possessive drive coiled through me like snakes, battling rage and betrayal and grief.
I was grieving her, and she didn’t fucking deserve it!
Except, her face when she’d spoken to me alone. The pleading in her eyes. The hope…
Could it be an act?
Around and around my mind wentagain.And still no more answers than I’d had hours before.
She had lied to me, at least by omission. Drugged me. Abducted me. And now she was holding me prisoner. There was nothing in that which inspired trust, or safety.
And yet I ached for her. Ached for her smile. Yearned for her voice. And now my body wanted hers.Iwanted her with a cock-hard fire that threatened to drive me mad.
And deep, deep down inside, under the layers of everything else, I was simply weary and possessive, knowing that crafty fucker Turo was doing everything in his power to take her from me. Somehow, I was desperately afraid of losing her, even thoughIwas the one keeping us apart. I hadn’t been here twenty-four hours and I wantedout.
Physical pain I could endure.
Waiting, I could be patient.
Battle I could meet with a prayer and a roar.
But this? This was torture.
To give in and reject the bond, reject her and this crown she offered… it would free my mind, but imprison my soul.
And yet, embracing her and this new role, with this new people, would mean fighting my own. My own who had never had a chance to exist without the leadership of a male who strove foreverythingruthlessly.
My people might be soulless—I wasn’t convinced. While it was true there were plenty whose throats I would cut without a second thought, they were notallbad. There were many with hearts and minds open to good.
Should I ignore those worth saving? Punish them alongside the brutal?
Then I heard my own thoughts and swore. She had me so twisted in my mind that I was weighing betraying my people against leadinghers?
God help me, I was a mess.
I rolled over, burying my face in the pillow, but the position brought my aching cock against the furs and my skin pebbled. My hips twitched as even the slightest movement sent waves of prickling pleasure washing through me, and images crashed into my head of Yilan, naked and sweating—
God, I needed tostop!
But my body fought my mind, and my weariness won out over my resolve.
With a low whine of despair, I relented and took myself in-hand and let myself imagine her there with me, bathed in moonlight. I saw myself take her slowly, watching her eyes roll back and her body shudder with pleasure. The remembered sensation of her clenching on me tore a deep moan from my throat, and I began to pump against my own grip.
Deep in my chest, something came alight—her.As my body tightened and trembled, as sweat sheened my skin, as the need grew demanding, then urgent, I fought the climax to extend the pleasure.
And through it all, I saw her in my mind.
Yilan.
My mate.
My soulbond.
My love.
