Page 153 of The King's Man
As she sat up on me, I reached back to pull the tie from her braid and loosen her hair, about to tell her how beautiful she was, when she reached back to shake the braid out and the picture she painted stole my breath.
Her skin, paler than mine, glowing in the low, peach light of morning, her arms reaching up, elbows to the sky as she shook her hair out, arching her back and her hair tumbling around her shoulders, those loose waves from the braid curling around her breasts.
She was stunning, and when her hair was shaken out, she dropped both hands to my chest, bracing herself there, her upper arms pressing her breasts together and plumping them as she grinned down at me.
“You be careful, old man—let me do the work,” she said breathlessly, winking.
I grunted, then when she sat up again, grabbed her hips and pulled her forward and down on me—which made her overbalance again and laugh as she fell forward. Which, in turn, caused the hammock to swing.
“You are stunning, Dee,” I croaked, flexing my hips because she was rubbing herself against me and it felt divine,but not nearly enough.
“I like the way you look, too,” she said breathlessly, reaching forward to trace the line of my pec, then along the muscles at my ribs. Those little touches should have been nothing. But the light trail of her fingertips lit tingling in my skin and made my blood heat so my breath shuddered.
Suddenly, her sweet rubbing and touching wasn’t enough. I had tohaveher.
And she felt it too, bracing her hands on me and arching her back, sliding herself up and down, teasing me, her head sinking back so her throat was bared—and that sight of her touched something so deep inside me, the bond sizzled.
It was with trembling hands I reached for her, urging her to relax as I lifted her and positioned her over me, then let her slide down onto me with such a wash of ecstatic bliss that a strangledsnarl broke in my throat as I took her—and she responded with a throaty cry that made the fire in my blood flare higher.
Then, mouth open and breath harsh, she shifted her weight and found her comfort over me before she began to move, hips rolling, belly undulating, and the hammock continued to swing with us so the very world seemed to tilt.
The morning sun broke over the mountains behind me and shafts of light broke between the trees, gilding her skin until it seemed the world was brighter because of her. The bond thrummed and sang, driving me closer—and yet, I wanted to savor the moment, not to rush towards the end, because watching her like this…
I was speechless.
Very quickly, her eyes fluttered closed. She smiled and bit her lower lip, letting her head sink back and baring her throat again, her hair falling to tickle my thighs, a soft rush over my skin that made me goosebump and want to roar.
I held her at the hips, moving with her, keeping the pace slow and deep in time with the movement of the hammock, but I was beginning to sweat and shake.
As her breath caught and her nipples tightened, I reached for her, painting her sides, her breasts, her collarbones with my fingers, trailing fingers under her jaw and down her throat, touching her as I’d never touched another—like the precious, fragile treasure she was, and aching within because she was only more beautiful as she arched into my touch. And with every roll of our hips, and every release of her breath, my body drove me closer. Ached formore.And so did she.
Then, when she tightened on me, when her head dropped forward and her hair tumbled over her breasts, when I had both hands on her, soft cries tearing from my throat because I couldn’t get enough, when she grasped my wrists and bowed her back, holding my touch to her body and let her head roll backagain, sighing my name, I thought if I died, my life would be complete.
She was a vision—skin golden in the morning sun, her hair tangled and messy, her eyes closed and lashes fluttering, lips soft and full and her body embracing me… a surge of need tore through my belly like a wildfire combusting and I snarled, trying to fight back the urgency—but the fire lit in the bond as well and Diadre felt it too.
Her hips bucked and her lips formed my name, though she made no sound because her breath had stopped. Then the leash I’d held on myself snapped.
I grasped her hips, fingers digging into that plush skin and pulled her down hard. She cried out with pleasure and her throat jumped, her grip on my wrists tightening as beautifully as her body clenched on me.
“Lean back,” I breathed. “Let me see you.”
Diadre gasped and tensed, but then I thrust into her again and she gave a sweet cry, then did as I asked, leaning back, away from me, her hips tilting forward and up and her knees spreading so I could watch myself take her.
The wildfire consumed me.
Gasping, grunting, calling for her, I tipped my chin to my chest to drink in the sight of her taking me, her body loose and desperate—and full ofme.
Was there any sight more erotic? More carnal? Moresweet?
I bellowed her name and watched her flesh blush as I picked up the pace and she rode me, her hips jerking, her body tensing, tightening. Her nipples were tight rivets, puckered and sweet, turned up to the sun and I yearned to taste them again, but she was almost at her climax, and I couldn’t stop.
I shook with need for her, begging God to let her come before I did, beggingher.
“Come for me, beautiful,” I rasped, reaching to rub her with my thumb and cursing when she gasped and tightened on me in response. “Come for me…come for me, Dee…that’s my girl… oh,fuck.”
A jolt of pleasure rocked through me and I curled my toes to fight the release. “Dee…shit, Dee—”
“Don’t stop, Jann… please…” she breathed and I shook my head, vowing to die before I’d fail her, but my body trembling as I tipped closer and closer to that edge.
