Page 72 of Vengeful King

“Good girl.” I shove her back down again, fuck her hard. She gasps out in pleasure. “Are you wet? Is your tight little hole hungry for me?”

“Yes,” she manages, the word broken when she moans. “Please—”

I slap her ass again, but I don’t finish. I turn her fast and lift her onto the counter. I blindly reach for the knife I know is there and cut her top off, throwing it to the side.

I grab her ass and yank her to the edge of the counter. I drive into her without warning; she throws her head back, a moan shaking her body. I twist her nipples, take one in my mouth as I fuck her hard. The sound of her body against mine is addictive.

I can feel her get close again, tightening. I don’t want her to come yet. I’m too lost in the feeling of her heat, the way she’s tight around me. I don’t want her to come already; I want to draw this out as long as I can. I want to break her entirely, just like my resolve is broken.

I pick her up again, this time slamming her against a wall. I fuck her there, grip her hair and make her look at me as I thrust deeply. Every time her eyes flutter from pleasure, I tug at her hair.

“I want you to look at me,” I say, my voice a rough growl. “Look at me when I’m fucking you. I want to see you come.”

I can see the desire and need in her eyes. There’s no way to hide it like this; there’s nowhere for her to go. She just shakes against my body, eyes hazy while I fuck her hard.

She comes hard, a cry torn from her lips. I feel every muscle tense, her body tight around my cock. I let her finish and then I grind against her, not letting her breathe—she comes again to my cock in her, pushing her orgasm again.

I can’t hold back.

I pull away from the wall, my hands still on her hips, and make her ride my cock. Every time I raise and lower her I feel the need burning inside me, every inch of her body responding to me. She clings to me as I move her, unable to do anything else, her nails biting my back.

I fuck her as hard and deep as I can. I don’t care about anything but this, the feeling of her on my cock. I know I shouldn’t do this but right now, I don’t give a shit. I only know what I want.

I can feel her shudder around me, oversensitive and spent, and I drive into her until I come inside her. It’s sudden and powerful, a blinding heat that takes over everything.

When it’s over, I step back to the counter and let her down after a moment. The feeling of her sliding off my cock is addictive; I want to get inside her again just to feel what it’s like. But I let her breathe for a moment, sitting there with flushed cheeks and hazy eyes.

It only occurs to me as she’s sitting there, basking in the aftermath, that I didn’t use a condom.

I always do it. I always take precautions with the women I bring home; I know I can’t afford anything that might happen. I’ve always been wary of the possibilities—paternity claims, someone who’s not clean.

I wasn’t even thinking this time. I was so caught up that it didn’t even cross my mind.

That’s dangerous. I know it is; I feel my chest clench, a tightness entering where I was ignoring it before. This was more than just stepping over the line. I might as well have fucking sprinted across it.

I look at Katrina and see a question in her eyes. I’m not sure if she realized what I did.

“I’m clean,” I say, resting my hands on her thighs. I shouldn’t keep touching her, but I can’t help it.

She nods, cheeks still flushed from exertion. “It’s okay. I’ve been on the pill.”

I don’t know why, but a stab of disappointment hits me. It doesn’t make sense. I know that’s dangerous, too—liking the possibilities is dangerous. It’s dangerous, being attracted to the thought of her not being protected, of me not giving a shit, of us doing this.

But I don’t want to think about it. I brush the thought aside; I can’t consider what it means. I shove everything aside, because it can wait. I don’t want to give a fuck right now.

I move closer to her. I’m still hungry for more; I suck on her neck, wanting the taste of her on my tongue again. I’ve already given in once. The dam has been broken.

Now?

“I don’t plan on letting you leave my bed until you can’t walk,” I murmur gruffly, a promise in my voice.

CHAPTER26

Katrina

It’s been days. Days since Lachlan kissed me in the kitchen and then made me scream for him, since we both broke down and finally crashed together like two planets drawn into each other’s orbit. I’m in his bed now, sore and sated, but alone.

I can still smell him on the sheets. It surrounds me, the richness of his cologne and soaps. There’shimunderneath it all, too. I turn and bury my nose into the pillow, inhaling deeply.

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