Page 43 of Merciless King

Her pussy clamped down on my cock and I lost my shit, started fucking her harder, deeper, unable to take my eyes off her as she thrashed and cried out beneath me, fucking me back, taking everything I gave and giving me more.

Finally, I dropped down, buried my face against her throat, and groaned, coming so hard I damn near blacked out.

I kissed the side of her neck and her jaw, cupped her face, and looked down at her. “Okay?”

Her face was flushed and she gasped as her pussy spasmed around me again and then again.

Fuck me. She was coming again. I rolled my hips, fucking her gently through it, unable to look way. Jesus fucking Christ.

Finally, she collapsed back, her beautiful full breasts jiggling with her panted breaths, hair spread out all over my pillow. I gently kissed one of her tight little nipples then moved up, taking her gorgeous mouth.

I wanted to fuck her all over again.

And that’s exactly what I planned to do.

10

London

I was standing in the kitchen when Van moved up behind me. His hands went to my thighs, just below the hem of the T-shirt I was wearing. His T-shirt. Van seemed to like it when I wore his clothes. He buried his face in my hair and breathed me in before his mouth went to the side of my neck and he kissed me, lips moving to my ear as he slid my hair to the side.

“Morning,” he said, voice all husky and yummy.

“Morning.”

“How you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” I said, finding it hard to find my voice all of a sudden, especially with his lips moving over my skin, gently sucking my earlobe. My bravado from the night before, when I’d stood in the living room and told him what I wanted, was absent in the stark reality of day. No, I did not regret it, not one bit. But that awkwardness, the shyness, hadn’t magically vanished because of what we’d shared, which was why I colored when he turned me around, slid his hands under my butt, and lifted me onto the counter.

“Okay?” he said.

His hands went to my knees and spread them, his hips filling the space. He was wearing jeans that were undone, and you could see he wore nothing underneath, like he’d just tugged them on and walked out. My mouth went dry.

His fingers slid under my chin and he tilted my head back. “Just okay?”

There was concern in his eyes and I felt guilty for putting it there. So I pushed past my shyness. “A lot better than okay,” I said. “So much more than okay.”

He grinned, and I was glad I was sitting or I might have melted into a puddle at his feet.

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” he said, stating the obvious.

His hands were back on my thighs—long, strong fingers massaging, sliding higher.

I tucked my hair behind my ear, not sure what to do with my hands. “I needed to get ready for work. I thought we could both do with some coffee.”

He dipped his head, mouth close to mine. “I woke wanting you again and you weren’t there. I thought maybe I dreamed last night,” he said, voice full of gravel. “Thought I better find you and make sure.”

His intensity, this kind of intimacy, it wasn’t something I’d ever had to deal with before. I was definitely feeling self-conscious and awkward. “Nope, not a dream.”

You’re talking loud again!

He moved closer, brushing his hard cock, barely restrained by his jeans, against my inner thigh. His hand slid up, all the way up, the backs of his fingers pressing gently against my core through my underwear. I gasped.

His gaze locked on mine and he took my chin in his other hand. “You sore, sweetheart?” he said in that gritty, sexy morning voice.

I colored further. Oh God, did he know?

“You’re gonna be sore after the way we went at it last night…” He paused, those almost black eyes growing even more intense. “Especially if you haven’t had a man before.”