Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
His kiss is no less gentle than anything else I’ve shared with him. Yet this time there’s a fire spreading through me that is more intense than before. My body is urging me to take more of everything this man offers. It’s so powerful that I moan as his tongue tries to control mine. He swallows down the sound and somehow deepens the kiss. It’s sublime—pure magic, and it is the best kiss I’ve had in my life.
For a moment, those old thoughts push through me, but I beat them back as my hand slides down his stomach. Just the gentle touch of my fingers sliding against his taut abdomen allows me to feel the power and muscle he carries. It should intimidate me. With my history, it absolutely should. Instead, I feel safe and cared for. It’s a heady sensation, the likes of which I’ve not truly felt since my father used to spoil me. He slowly got away from that—thinking Dom was taking up that job. If he had bothered to watch how Dom was at his club or around his brothers, he would have known better. Yet I did my part in making him believe that’s how it was. So, I can’t lay all the blame on him. Plus, I was older—supposedly an adult. I wasn’t, but I played at being an adult, at least until it was all ripped away from me. Nothing like being hit, cut with a knife, and raped to take the ol’ blinders off.
I beat down those memories again, just as I push away the thoughts of my own past sins. I can’t allow them a way in right now. Later, they can swamp me when I’m alone. Later, I will drown in them. Not now. Not with King. Here, I let myself pretend I can be enough for him. Here, it can only be me and King—at least until he discovers I’m not worth his time.
With that thought—and that alone—I let my hand move down, then move even further down until my hand wraps around the base of his cock. Being nude with him isn’t easy. It’s something he only introduced a couple of days ago. He keeps it dark in here, with just the light from the bathroom slowly drifting in. My body is usually covered too. He takes my panties off, but I wear his T-shirt to bed, and I keep it on. I know he wishes he had free access to my body. I see the hunger in his eyes as he brings me to climax. Yet, he never pushes for more. He never makes me feel lacking. I trusted him before. If I hadn’t, I’d never be able to do what we’re doing. Yet since becoming intimate with him, that trust has grown substantially. I have complete faith in him. Tonight is the first night King has come to bed without gym shorts or joggers on. He’s completely nude. Although he’s kept his body under the sheet, his body has touched mine and I haven’t felt fear—which surprised me. No, the fact he’s naked only increased my desire for more—which has been the biggest shock of all.
“Sunshine,” he groans, his entire body tensing. “You don’t have to do this.”
I contract my hand, squeezing him. He feels like heated velvet, and it’s as intoxicating as it is addicting. He’s so … large. Bigger than I was prepared for. My fingers don’t reach around him. The man could probably tear me in half, but I can’t imagine caring. I know without a doubt that King would take care of me. I’ve never had that confidence in a man before—at least not since my very first time with Dom. It should scare me how much faith I have in King, but it doesn’t.
He's my safe haven.
“I want to touch you, King. Please?” I ask, needing him to understand.
“I’m yours for whatever you want, Gabby. You know that. I’m all yours, woman.”
My heart turns a somersault in my chest. I want him to be mine. I fucked everything up and made that impossible before I ever even met him. He doesn’t see it right now, but he will. Still, this is the here and now. For as long as he’s with me, I’m going to do my best to enjoy the moments I have with him.
I stare into his eyes as I hold him firmly and then slide my hand up, keeping my grip firm. I twist as I hit the crown of his cock, then move back down. I pump him slowly, my gaze locked with his. I want to watch him. King doesn’t hide his pleasure from me either. I see it on his face and especially in his eyes. I lose myself in the bliss bleeding through his features and I pick up my face. For a second his eyes close and without him returning my stare, I start to question if what I’m doing is right. King is older than me. He’s been married and a member of a club for a long time. I know from experience this means he can get laid anytime he feels the need. It’s more than that, though. It’s simply … a man that looks like he does could have any woman he came across. That’s not an exaggeration. He’s that spectacular. Now doubts hit me. A man like King would think a hand job was lame, mostly because it is. On this thought, my stroke falters. Shit. What was I thinking? King must think I’m a clueless juvenile. Part of me wishes I could be confident with a man. No, that’s wrong. I wish with everything in me I could be confident with King. That I could be the woman he deserves. Most of all, I wish I didn’t make it completely impossible for the two of us to work.