Page 108 of American King (New Camelot Trilogy 3)
“I should shave more.”
“And then where would I go for such scratchy kisses? Don’t you dare.”
He kisses my chest and stomach, and then he carefully unfastens my pants, undressing me as carefully as a valet, folding my clothes and setting them aside as I prefer instead of just dropping them on the floor. We both make a noise as he peels off my boxer briefs and my erect cock springs free, glistening at the tip, and then he repeats, “I want you to be my king when we do this. Please.”
“Do you want me to be in charge?”
He breathes out, and it seems to free him and shame him as he answers, “Yes.”
“Hey,” I say, taking his hand. “We can change at any time, okay? If you don’t want me to have the reins five minutes from now or sixty minutes from now, you just tell me and we’ll change. I can be your submissive or we can meet each other as equals. Nothing’s permanent tonight.”
Even as I say the words, a knife of fear slices a wedge out of my happiness, reminding me that tonight won’t last forever and that some things are permanent. Death, for example.
I shake away the fear, returning my attention to Embry. “Do you understand?” I ask. “I don’t care which way the power flows tonight or if it flows at all. I told you once that I’d be any kind of man for you, and I meant it. I want to share my body with you, whichever way you want it.”
Embry stares at me in the near dark. Our only light comes from the open door to the hallway and the streetlights glowing outside the window. “When you say you’ll be any kind of man for me,” he whispers, “my heart beats so fast. But oh, Ash, I don’t want you to be any kind of man for me. I just want you to be the man you already are.”
I kiss his sweet forehead, understanding. “Okay, little prince. We’ll start now, and just know we can stop at any time.”
“It’s insane that you need to tell me I can safe out when I’m going to be the one fucking you,” he says with a choked laugh. “But it makes sense somehow. You are more dangerous wielding love than you are wielding pain.”
It makes sense to me to me as well, and I suppose it’s always made sense, because it’s what I’ve wanted from the very beginning. People don’t look at you with the whole world in their eyes because they fear you—they look at you like that because they love you.
I pull away and walk over to the bed, where I recline against the pillows and make myself comfortable. “Show me your cock,” I order him. I don’t bother fisting my own—I’ll make him suck it in a minute anyway—and instead I turn all of my attention on him, on this last time I’ll get to see him go red with humiliation. This last time I’ll see him hook his thumbs in his pants and reveal the v of his abdominal muscles, the spread of dark hair at the end of his happy trail, the narrow lines of his hips. The bounce and sway of his full, hard cock.
He’s struggling with himself as he kicks his pants away on the floor, and it’s another last too, seeing him plunge through every depth of shame at my command.
“That’s just exposing your cock,” I say lazily, imperially. “Show it to me.”
He takes a deep breath and then uses a thumb on his staff to push it down, to make it jut perpendicular from his body. And then he takes a step closer, turning so that I can see his body in profile, the hard penis and the tight stomach above it. The glow coming from the window puts a silver burnish on his skin, limns every hair with light. He’s all man, all perfect.
“Mm
m,” I say. “I suppose that will do.”
The tiniest flicker at the corner of Embry’s mouth relieves me—he realizes what game I’m going to play—but then he ducks his head again, and I’m reminded that the game has power, that the game is real.
I spread my legs. “I need to be cleaned,” I say, again like a magistrate, bored almost, although I’m anything but bored as I watch the tremors ripple through Embry’s body as he approaches me. He climbs onto the bed with shaky limbs, his sides heaving hard as he lowers himself to his stomach and slides his arms under my thighs.
I watch his head dip low to my most secret place.
I feel the hesitant flicker of his tongue across sensitive, creased skin.
It’s unbearably carnal to witness, the dark crown of his head between my legs, and I have a moment when I realize this is what women see. This is what Greer sees when we eat her. I’ve seen a lover bob up and down on my cock, their every flinch and gasping inhale exposed to me, but this—it feels so private somehow, truly intimate, because there’s so much I can’t see—I see only the flutter of his eyes and the wrinkle in his brow as he concentrates so hard on rimming me properly. But I can only feel the bump and press of his nose against me, the sides of his cheeks smoothing against my hair-rough thighs—even the point of his chin feels like a new discovery as he turns his head this way and that to lick and nibble.
“We’ve never done this either,” I murmur, sliding my hand through his hair. “So much I’ve missed out on.”
He moans his agreement, and I feel the vibrations against my skin, which makes me moan. It’s so wet, so dirty, and so loving and servile, and intimate and earthy, and everything I’ve ever loved about sex all rolled into one. When I look down the length of Embry’s body, I see the hollows in his ass cheeks that reveal how hard he’s pressing his cock into the mattress right now. I wish I had the time to make him come all over the sheets first, I wish I could see his body trembling with an inadvertent orgasm while he had his tongue inside me, but alas.
Maybe in our next life.
I grab his hair tight and guide his mouth to my cock for a moment, purely so I can see and feel it one last time. The stretch of those refined lips, the flex of that perfectly chiseled jaw. Those dark eyelashes resting on his cheeks. His mouth so hot and wet and good on my skin.
Last time, goes the voice in my head. Last time.
I ignore it. “Put your cock inside me,” I say, as if I’m ordering him to give me a massage. As if I’m a spoiled king making the most depraved demands of his courtiers. “Make me feel good.”
Embry comes off my cock with color high in his cheeks and a gasp. “Yes,” he says. “Yes, I will.”
