Being with King is like being on drugs. Hardcore drugs. I’m high—so fucking high. Euphoric. Mind-melting, body numbing, life changing.
I should be scared. Worried. Nervous. With King I’m gone, so high, and nothing else matters.
“Slow,” he growls in my ear, making me shiver. My body is pinned to the cold tile shower wall by his overpowering frame. One hand braced against the wall next to my head and the other gripping my ass, he holds me up, and still.
“Hard,” I counter, needing more when he slides into me.
He’s big—huge. My body stretches, almost to the point of pain, but it’s a good pain. Sweet pain. Like a toothache you just want to bite down on.
I don’t know why it’s like this with King, why when he’s inside of me everything feels right, but the second he pulls out, shit falls apart. I want him so bad but hate him so much.
Looking at me, licking his bottom lip, he says, “We do this shit my way, baby.”
I don’t argue because I’m desperate. I want him to move, want him to work my body good. Touch me. Use me.
“Slow,” I agree, eyes rolling when he goes deep, pushing me even farther into the tile.
I cling to him, legs wrapped around his waist as his cock slides into me, so thick and hard. Over and over. Slowly. Torturously. Deliciously.
In hard, out slowly. King is the master of a slow death.
He fucks me hard and slow, taking his time, savoring me, enjoying my body.
Burying himself deep inside, he grinds down, and I swear I feel it in my toes.
Lifting his head, King looks at me, his eyes dark. “Every time,” he grunts, his voice almost mad. “You fuck with my head, Princess. Here to keep you alive and that’s it, but here we are, again. Been ten years and we’re still doin’ this shit,” he growls, lifting me higher and pulling me down onto his cock, holding me tighter. “Still fuckin’ crazy about you after all these years.”
My heart fucking explodes in my chest. That’s the most King has ever said about us and the shit we do when he swings through town.
It’s always a fast fuck. A messy fuck. A hard fuck. This time it’s different.
This goes way past sex with King. So far fucking beyond it, it scares me. I’m terrified.
“Don’t stop.” I beg when he hammers into me.
My head’s foggy, high on his body and his words.
I do something I’ve never done in the years we’ve slept together, something I’ve always wanted to do. I kiss him. Wrapping one hand around the back of his neck, I pull his mouth to mine. He comes easily.
His kiss is brutal. Savage. Hard and hungry. And I give in, my body needing his.
“I won’t stop,” he growls.
My mind is gone, lost and wandering dangerously close to the edge of not coming back. I can’t risk falling in love with King. He’s unlovable in the most profound way. His heart’s walled off with bricks and steel, wanting nothing from anyone, and he’s okay with it. He doesn’t want more from me and I can’t want more from him.
“Good girl,” he groans, licking my bottom lip. “Squeeze me, just like that,” he urges as my orgasm builds.
All we have is sex. Good sex. Great sex. Mind-blowing, life-changing sex. There’s nothing more with King and I have to remember that.
Standing at the kitchen island in nothing but an oversized tee, I eat cold pizza and drink wine out of the bottle, staring out the window at the roses all over the road and sidewalk, lost in thought.
A shiver races up my back just thinking of someone being in my house, my safe space. I wonder how he got in here and when. I wonder if he left after I did or if he left before I got here. I wonder why he’s doing this. What I did or what I said to make him pick me.
“Stop,” King growls, walking up behind me and wrapping a strong arm around my stomach, his chin on my shoulder. “Get out of your head or I’ll get you out if it.”
Letting me go, he turns me around, my back to the island, caged in by his body. Jesus, he’s too much. Shirtless and tattooed. Hard and built. The man’s just too damn much.
Laughing softly, I take a drink of the cool white wine that’s sadly almost gone. “If that’s a threat, then it’s a pretty weak one.”
“Nothin’ weak about me, baby,” he teases, flexing one tattooed arm. I’ve seen King be mean. I’ve seen him be angry, cold, and deadly, but I’ve never seen funny or anything close to it. The man’s usually steel.
Squeezing his bicep, I shrug. “Eh. I’ve seen better.”
“You’ve seen better?” There’s a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“What? I’m just sayin’, I’ve seen bigger.” I’m lying. King is cut, ripped, and lined with hard edges made from hard work and brute force. The man’s a fucking machine in so many ways.
Grabbing my hips, he lifts me up and plops me onto the counter, my ass meeting cold granite, and shoves his way between my thighs, a smirk on his lips. He’s so goddamn sexy. Grabbing my jaw, he tips my head back and looks down at me. “Go ahead and tell me how weak I am again.” The hand on my thigh rubs small circles on my skin, intoxicating me.
“I mean, you could probably lift a tire or somethin’,” I say softly, fighting a smile.
I’ve never seen this side of King—soft and silly. I fall in love with it instantly.
“What kind of tire?” he asks, kissing my lips. His rough beard rubs on my skin, making me shiver. His tongue tastes my mouth, making me melt.
“Bicycle?” I whisper, cracking a smile against his mouth.
King does something I’ve never seen him do—he smiles, and it’s stunning. But it doesn’t last long.
His phone rings, ruining it.
Pulling away from me, King grabs his phone, answering it. “Yeah?” His voice is short, annoyed. He nods a couple times, listening, before he says, “I’ll be there.”
My heart sinks. He’s leaving, leaving me.
Too good to be. Too good to last.
Stuffing his phone in his pocket, he looks at me, with what I’m sure is a frown on my face.
“Time to go,” he tells me. No emotion. Everything from moments ago is gone.
Nodding, I cross my arms, suddenly cold and lonely. “Okay.” I knew it wouldn’t last.
“Okay,” he agrees, staring. Waiting. “You gonna go put some fuckin’ clothes on, or do you want me to dress you?”
“What?” Now I’m confused. This man gives me whiplash.
“We’ve gotta go.” I nod along, still a little confused.
“Where am I going?”
He sighs. “Jesus, Sam. I’m not leavin’ you alone again, and I have to go to Buck’s place. You either get dressed or I dress you. Your choice.”
“Okay,” I mumble slowly, sliding off the island and onto my feet. Walking toward the stairs, I don’t bother asking anymore questions. I just roll with it, knowing I don’t have much choice.
Passing King, he grabs my arm and pulls me into him, shocking me for the millionth time tonight. He kisses me. A rough, chaste kiss. It’s quick, but it’s good. “Wear somethin’ warm,” he says against my lips before smacking my ass and sending me on my way.
It’s been weirdest night of my life, and it looks like it’s not over yet.