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Tyrant (King #2) Page 41
Author: T.M. Frazier

We stayed there, lingering in the feel of one another, existing in one another’s space, breathing each other in.

Until it was no longer enough.

Because with us, it never was.

He was real, and right in front of me. I was like an addict who’d not just fallen off the wagon, but leapt off blindly, while it was still in motion. In that moment, I was willing to do just about anything to feed the insatiable hunger that was erupting inside of me, occupying every sense I had. I wanted to touch him, taste him, smell him, drink him in.

I wanted it all.

We weren’t starving for one another.

We were fucking ravenous.

We were still kissing when he reached behind him and yanked his shirt off over his head, but he didn’t do it fast enough. I needed to see him. I needed to feel his warmth against me. I needed to taste the sweat on his skin on my tongue. When he was free of his shirt he tossed it onto the dock.

King was even less patient. He didn’t remove my shirt entirely, just yanked it down to expose my breasts.

That was exactly how I felt.

Exposed.

Being vulnerable in front of King was a risk I was more than willing to take, because it was well worth the reward. His gaze dropped to my breasts. He growled from deep within his throat, looking down at me with both animalistic need and something that I didn’t expect from King.

Appreciation.

“I love your fucking tits,” King said, droping to his knees. He wrapped his full lips around the very tip of my nipple, licking ever so slightly. I moaned at the contact, needing more. So much more. King chuckled. “I got you, baby,” he said. Flattening his tongue, he slid it over my stiffened peak in a long lick that made me want to cry out. And then he did it again, at a pace that was so torturously slow, I’d rather him bite me and draw blood than continue the lazy lapping of his ridiculously talented tongue. “So fucking perfect.” He released me just long enough to speak the words against the swell of my breasts before he started back up again on the other breast. This time he started off slow but then increased the speed until he was interchanging licks for light sucking, leaving me almost unable to stand on my own. Sensing my imbalance, King held me upright by my waist. I writhed against him, holding on to the top of his head. His short hair bristled against my palms as he brought me to the edge of oblivion.

And then he stopped.

King was still holding onto my waist, but his attention was elsewhere. His gaze firmly fixed on my belly. Tentatively, he reached up and placed his hand flat against the slight roundness of my stomach. “It’s so crazy,” he whispered. He traced circles around my belly button, pressing a kiss to the skin right below it, inhaling as he made his way back up to my neck, lifting himself off his knees. There was a certain reverence in his eyes, but that didn’t dim the fire, if anything it blazed brighter. Hotter. I was almost overwhelmed by the way he was looking at me so when King took a step toward me, I took a hesitant step back. “You running from me, Pup?” he asked with low ferocity in his voice.

“Maybe I am,” I teased, turning and bolting up the dock back toward the house. King caught up to me and spun me around, the barbarity in his gaze forcing me to retreat again until my back pressed up against the wall. He was being rough, but cautious at the same time, taking great care to make sure the burn on my back stayed out of harms way. It was then I realized I wasn’t backed up against a wall. It was a pillar.

The pillar.

The one where King and I had first had sex. Angry, hot, hate filled, love fueled sex.

“There,” King said, “much fucking better.”

“Reminiscing, are we?” I asked, biting my bottom lip. King reached around to the back of my neck and tipped my head up to him.

“Maybe,” he whispered. “And later, when I’m done with you out here, I want to take you upstairs and reminisce some more. Maybe cuff you to my bed. He traced my lower lip with his, and when I made a move for more contact, he pulled back. “Would you like that, Pup? Do you want me to cuff you up so you can’t move? Run my tongue between your legs, make you come so hard it fucking hurts? Or should I use a belt again? Wrap it around your neck so I have you right where I want you.” He kissed the corner of my mouth, tasting me, teasing me. Making me wild with lust.

Anyone could have walked by us and I wouldn’t have paid them any attention. They could fucking watch for all I cared. All I wanted was for him to touch me in a way that didn’t leave me throbbing and trying to press my thighs together for relief.

He ran his tongue behind my ear, sucking the sensitive skin into his mouth. I practically launched myself at him, throwing my hands around his neck in an effort to get closer, but again he denied me what I was seeking, what I needed. “Not yet, Pup.”

I was going to strangle the asshole.

“Are you trying to piss me off?” I asked. My chest rising and falling with my impatience. I was going to be the first person in history to ever die from lust.

Female blue balls.

“Maybe. But I remember how hot it was to fuck you when you were angry. Right here against the house. I get so fucking hard every time I think about being inside you that first time, all the while you wanted to claw my fucking eyes out. I wanted to make it all okay between us, but at the same time, I wanted to make you even angrier. Make you burn hotter. You were so fucking pissed off, but so fucking beautiful. You burned so hot it was like your pussy was begging for my cock to punish it. Punish you.”

“Yes. Punish me,” I whispered. “Please. Punish me.”

I was past having any shame and had moved onto begging. And then, if he ever did fuck me, afterward, I was going to drown him in the bay.

King grinded his huge erection against my thigh. “You see what you do to me? Do you feel how badly I want you?” All I could do was nod. I wasn’t even sure of what he was asking. At that point, the answer to everything was going to be YES. “Don’t fucking move,” he ordered. Inserting two fingers in the waistband of my shorts, he pulled them down my thighs. On his way back up, he pressed his nose between my legs and inhaled deeply, darting his tongue out for a lick.

“Holy shit. You’re fucking dripping.” He sucked my clit into his mouth.

“I missed the way you taste, Pup. Fucking sweet and innocent. You taste like more.” His words vibrating against my core which was so beyond ready for him to put the monster throbbing against my leg to good use. Instead, he stood back up, forcing me harder against the pillar. He reached between us and between my folds, spreading my wetness, pushing his thick middle finger inside of me.

His finger was barely halfway in but I was already clenching around him. “Your pussy missed me,” King said, his voice rough and strained. The confidence he possessed just moments ago now an obvious struggle as he attempted to stay in control.

I dropped my head back against the pillar. He pushed all he way in and hooked his finger slightly. When he began to pump I writhed against his hand.

Each and every time he pulled out it felt just as amazing as when he pushed back inside. He started to pump faster, steady at first, then more erratic. More desperate. More like King’s only mission in life was to tear an orgasm from my body.

I was lost in the sensation of the in and out.

The push and pull.

The clench and release.

The throb and pulse.

The fucking mind-blowing amazingness of being able to not only see this man again. But to kiss him. Touch him.

Have his baby.

There was a time not that long ago, when I truly thought I’d never see him again. I certainly never thought he’d be finger fucking me back against the pillar where it had all started.

Where we had started. It was in that very spot where I gave myself to him the first time. And it was in that very spot again where I gave myself to him all over again.

Even though in my heart I’d never really stopped being his.

Sensation started building on top sensation. Pleasure on top of pleasure. I could no longer tell a push-in from a pull-out. I was so charged up, I felt like I could power an entire city on the energy humming inside me.

The mounting pleasure became almost too much. I desperately needed some sort of release before I fell apart under the pressure.

“Fuck!” I cried out.

“That’s the plan, Pup.” King removed his fingers and sucked them into his mouth. “Fuck. My tongue is going to be spending a lot of time getting reacquainted with that beautiful pussy of yours, but right now I need to put my cock inside you.”

“Yes,” I panted.

King made quick work of his belt and jeans. His cock sprang free of its confinement. Without another beat King wrapped his hand around the thick shaft and pushed the head into my folds, soaking it with my wetness, before pushing inside with a long hard thrust that made us both cry out at the same time.

King gripped the back of my thighs, his fingers pressing roughly into my flesh.

And then he kissed me. Hard.

He kissed me as if it were that very kiss sealing our connection. Our fate. Our lives.

Together.

I was close. So close that I was almost afraid of how hard I was going to come. King’s breathing changed from steady against my lips to erratic as he hammered into me hard and fast. My nipples grazed his chest with every thrust. My clit rubbed against the base of his cock.

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T.M. Frazier's Novels
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