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King of Hearts

Page 43

   


Oh, God.
Finally, I spoke. “We’re in your bathroom, at the office. You corner me on the couch and flip me over onto my stomach.”
King’s eyes sparkled at my description and his hands went to my hips, one arm around my stomach. “Like this?” he asked, voice low, and then flipped me onto my belly.
“Yeah, just like that,” I moaned as I felt him press his cock into my arse, his breath hot and heavy on the back of my neck.
“What next?” he urged.
“You’re hard. You undo your belt buckle and pull down your fly, then you push my skirt up my hips and shove my knickers to the side. You touch me, feel how wet I am.” He moved as I spoke, hands completing the description I was giving him until his fly was open and his fingers were running over my folds, caressing them.
“You pull me up onto my knees.”
He gripped my hips, lifting me to all fours.
“Then you pull yourself from your pants, and you run your erection over my arse before sliding it lightly over my vagina. You tease me with it, find my entrance, and push in just a little, torturing me until I’m begging for it.”
I had to give it to him, King took direction just perfectly. His cock was free now, sliding inside me the tiniest bit before pulling back out. Sensation filled my entire body at the barest connection. His hand went to my neck, gripping it as he growled in my ear.
“I think this is your cue to beg, love.”
“Please,” I moaned.
“Not good enough.”
“I need you, please, I’m begging.”
“Almost there.”
My voice grew strained and demanding. I didn’t want to play anymore; I just wanted him inside. “Oliver, fuck me, please. I want to feel all of you,” I cried out.
“That’s better,” he purred, his voice laced with deep male satisfaction as I heard him pull something from his pants pocket. There was the brief sound of foil tearing before he positioned his cock, then drove it inside me, hard and so deliciously deep. I felt myself pulsate around him, like my body was thanking him for finally giving it what it needed. We went still, and I felt his mouth move over my shoulder blade before his face sank into my hair.
“Jesus Christ,” he groaned.
“Oliver, I need….”
“Hush, I know, darling, I know.”
He rose up again, hands finding my arse and squeezing. He growled and gave one cheek a light slap before grabbing my hips and gripping them tight. My fingers dug into the pillows as I held myself up even though my body just wanted to go limp. Everything just felt too good, and my muscles had turned to jelly. King pushed back into me, in and out deliciously slow. Then his movements sped up, and I swear I lost the ability to think. I’d never felt anything so heavenly in my entire life. My little breaths and moans filled the room; I was unable to hold anything back. King delighted in my sounds, murmuring worshipfully how much he loved them, how much he loved my body, my pussy, how perfectly we fit.
I’d never forget his masculine grunts as he hammered into me, the thick, hard feel of him as he filled me up. I felt like I wanted to die when he suddenly pulled out, but before I knew it, he was flipping me over and pushing me onto my back.
“I want your eyes,” he growled, lifting my thighs around his hips and driving back into me once more. He cupped my jaw in his hand, his thumb rubbing at my chin as he levelled me with his stare. He was beautiful in that moment, captivating. I wanted to look down, take in the sight of his gloriously chiselled body, but he wouldn’t allow it. He held me in place, never allowing my eyes to leave his, and something clutched at my chest and throat. It was an emotion I wasn’t quite sure I could identify: sharp and stingy but warm and lovely at the same time.
King’s expression grew serious. “Do you feel that?” he asked on a laboured breath.
All I could do was nod, and in the next second we both seemed to understand that we were completely and totally screwed. No way was this going to be a one-time thing. Already I wanted to crawl beneath his skin and never leave.
“You’re so beautiful, Alexis. You feel fucking beautiful on the inside, too.”
“Oliver….”
“Yes, darling?”
“Will you come for me?” I asked, my words a desperate plea.
“Anything for you,” he whispered, his movements slowing down but growing in intensity. He seemed to get even harder as his climax built, and just as I saw he was about to come apart, I pulled his lips to mine and kissed him desperately, swallowing all of his noises, letting them become a part of me. I felt him spill into me, groaning low and gravelly as he came hard, his body shaking a little with the effort. A soft layer of perspiration coated his skin as his delicious weight fell on top of me. His arms went around my body, pulling me to him tight and squeezing as he rested his face in the crook of my neck.
I stroked his hair, and he moved us into a more comfortable position so that his entire body surrounded mine. Feeling him plant light kisses to my neck, I let out a little purr of approval as his hand went between my legs.
“You think you could come again?” he asked in a sleepy voice.
“You’re exhausted, Oliver. Go to sleep.”
“But my hand is jealous of my mouth,” he whined playfully. “It wants to feel you come, too.”
My tender laugh soon transformed into a low moan as he started to stroke me. His fingers circled my clit, then dipped inside. I shifted and felt his cock begin to harden again next to my arse cheek, and already I could have gone another round. My body was sleepy, though, so I was content to simply lay there and let him work me up.