Page 62 of The King's Man
“That’s good. That will help. But it’s not what I meant,” he said gruffly.
His eyes shadowed, but he didn’t look away. He stroked me again and my jaw went slack. I swallowed and tried to keep my head.
“The only way to find out if this is going to be a problem is to try,” I said, as rationally as I could.
He nodded, then entered me with a third finger. My eyes slid closed and I smiled—then gasped as he pulled his fingers apart to stretch me as he drew them out.
The sensation was strange—half-startling pleasure, half-discomfort. Then he pressed into me again, a low rumble ofapproval in his chest when my jaw dropped and I let my head fall back on the bed.
I’d spent my life around soldiers. I’d heard men talk aboutfinger fuckingsince I was a teen. Back then I thought it was simply a coarse description for aggressive foreplay. But now…
There was no denying that the sheer stature of the Nephilim led to a certainimpact.I was both thrilled, and a little apprehensive. But the pleasure and anticipation building low in my belly soon overwhelmed rational thought.
As Jann moved his touch in and out of me, that building pressure within made me tremble and promised orgasm on the horizon. I clenched on his fingers and he groaned and picked up the pace.
Gasping his name, I rolled my hips with him and reached for his arm, wanting to pull him in as I would if he’d actually entered me. But even though he continued to make those deep, ragged noises in his chest, every time I began to edge towards a climax, he’d slow.
I hissed a curse the third time he took me to the edge then eased back. “Jann,please.”I lifted my head—I was sweating!
“What?” he said, his chin low and eyes dark and glittering.
“You know what!”
“No, Diadre… I want you to tell me. In specific terms. In excruciating detail. Tell me what you want.”
I broke. I sat up fast and grabbed his face, pulling myself up to kiss him when his mouth opened to protest, sucking on his tongue and biting his lip, then tipping my forehead against his when he repaid me by plunging those fingers deep again.
“Dear God,” I gasped, holding his face and breathing against his skin.
“No, just Nephilim.”
“You’re not funny,” I rasped.
“Actually, I’m hilarious. You just lack the requisite admiration—”
“Jann, I am very ready to admire you,” I panted. “In fact, if you don’t get undressedright now,I’m…”
“What…” he growled, then kissed me deeply so I thought he’d give me what I wanted. But a few moments later, with another groan, he pulled back to meet my eyes and beckoned within me again. “What, Diadre? Spell it out.”
“I just did!”
“Okay,” he growled—then to my horror, he pulled away from me, drew his fingers out of me, and pushed to his feet.
I blinked and gaped as he straightened to his full height, staring down at me with eyes dark, chest heaving, as he reached back to the neckline of his shirt and tugged it off forward, over his head—his head popping up with hair messy and eyes flashing as he threw it aside.
Then he reached down, unbuckled his belt and shoved his leathers down like they offended him.
I was half-sitting, braced on my hands, and treated to the sight of that golden bull of a man in his full glory. His eyes blazed, his full lips pulling up on one side in a half-grin that made my belly clench again. His shoulders rippled with muscle, his chest expanding and retreating quickly, every muscle, vein, and tendon in his body and arms popping like it had been carved from marble.
He growled as I raked my gaze down his body to stop at that thick pillar rising from between his thighs.
“Only if you want me, Diadre,” he growled. “Only if you choose me. Every time. I own my prick, and I own my control. You have my word, I’ll never use it against you. Ever.” He took himself in hand and stroked himself slowly—something I’d never found particularly erotic until this moment.
He was the most carnal man I’d ever seen. His bodymadefor strength and control and…admiration.
Mouth suddenly dry, I swallowed and sat up.
He made a strange noise like I’d startled him when I reached for him.
