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“Hey, did you go for a run?” I assess his body, admiring his strong physique, bulging muscles, tight six pack and lean hips hiding under his shirt—that lead to the most impressive ten inch cock. Controlling my thoughts, I do my best to stay focused on him and the fight last night.
“Yeah, I had some aggression I needed to get out.” I look down at the lemon in front of me peeling the sticker off and trying to look busy, his comment sticking to me like glue. He meant aggressi
on I caused him, I don’t want to be someone’s problem or reason for aggression again.
“Sorry,” I mumble, keeping my eyes honed in on my task.
“Don’t be.” He removes his shirt and my knees almost give out. I grab the counter for some stability. Kingston Troy Donovan is the most irresistible man I have ever touched, seen, or had. His tattoos cover nearly his entire body, both arms, his chest—my name between his hips. That tattoo caused the biggest fight, followed by the best make up sex. See that’s what we do; we fight, we make up, then we make love. It’s a vicious cycle, a war zone.
“I’m gonna make breakfast. Do you want some?” He stands guard across from me, gauging my mood, not saying a word, just eyeing me up and down. I feel myself sweating under his watchful stare. I wanted to say sorry, but I’m drawing blanks.
“What?” I ask dryly, my throat in its own drought. I heard him say something but didn’t catch his low husky voice.
“I’m sorry, angel.” My resolve shatters, part one of our cycle commences. Kingston looks so calm, his voice sounding sweet, his eyes vulnerable and filled with unmistakable regret.
“No, you can’t say sorry. I shouldn’t have said hate, I don’t hate you Kingston. I used that as a defense and that was so fucking wrong—you don’t deserve that shit.” He rounds the counter and grabs me, placing me on the countertop in one fluid motion, nudging his hips between my legs.
“I know you did it to push me out, I know who you are Lana, and that’s why I won’t stop. I’ll never give up on us.”
“What if it takes forever, Kings?”
“Forever it is. I would spend a thousand forevers waiting just to have you for one.” Those words strum a cord in my heart, making me weak and desperate for him. Never has my smug cocky man been this way for anyone but me, and the realness in his raw words has me aching to shut myself up and go against my will to keep him.
I lean in and kiss him, giving him a sincere apology with my lips. “Besides, as long as you continue to kiss me the way you do, then surely I can wait for forever,” he says taking my lip between his teeth. Kingston can be so blissfully carnal that I can do nothing but show him how I feel with my body. Because right now, that’s all we have, our physical touch, but unattainable hearts. I will selfishly take what I can get. What my heart will not let me have.
“I want you.” My hormone induced desire and sudden epiphany kick into gear.
“Who doesn’t?” And he’s back, so cocky.
Untying my robe, he slides his hands up my nighty. I lift my ass as the material stops around my hips. When he tries to lift it past my waist, I react, stopping him with my hands on top of his. Kingston knows I don’t like him to see my chest. There’s a huge scar from Joel. I told Kings I have one—not how—just that I have one and I’m insecure about it. That story is a long one to weave, and I just want him inside me already. I need to make up for last night, if I don’t I will continue to feel this empty hole in my chest.
His eyes flash with disappointment, the rejection setting in, making my stomach tie in knots. Never once has he seen me fully naked, not my chest at least, which has him irritated, desperate to see me completely. The scar too ugly, marring my skin, I distract him. “Take me now.”
He smirks, looking down at his cock. “Pull big man free then, my Queen.” Kingston calls me his Queen and it’s one of the many things he does that makes me feel most worshipped. I’m anxious inside as I reach down to release him from his running pants, thankful I don’t have to work with buttons or zippers.
All glorious ten inches spill over and bob around hard and ready. The tip already laced with pre-cum, his veins thick and pronounced, the tip red and hungry. When I look at it my core tightens, half in pleasure, the other in pain. I’ve had him so many times, regardless of that I still feel pain with the first thrust or two—or three.
“You like this big dick, don’t you?” he asks. I nod stroking it for him. He’s always the one in control but he gives me just enough to make me feel comfortable—safe. “Take it then, slide it into that wet, tight pussy and take it, dirty girl.”
“Yes,” I moan, causing his resolve to give. He pulls me forward—hard—guiding me right onto his waiting dick.
“Kingston!” I scream out. Completely full to the point of pain, I look down and see he only has a few inches of himself inside me. Not only is he long, he’s thick, the cock of a King, just like his name.
“Does it feel good? You’re soaking.” He bites my collarbone, then soothes it with the run of his tongue over the sensitive flesh.
“Yes, baby.”
“I love it when you call me, baby. Makes me feel like I’m yours.”
“Oh, Kings, you’re mine.” My words undo him, undulating his hips in a fast pace, he thrusts into me over and over again, deeper and harder. Even if I can’t be with him, I don’t shy away from the fact that he’s the only man I want touching me.
“Yeah, I am and you’re mine.” I almost protest and push him away, that’s one of my triggers. Before I can, though, he reaches between us and flicks my clit, causing an abrupt orgasm to consume my body.
“You’re squeezing me so tight, I need your words Lana, I need them.” Kingston is a dirty man and he needs those sexy little words... moans... screams, to help him reach his ultimate high. I think he needs it to feel some sort of ownership over me, some kind of connection that ties us together, in ways outside of what I won’t give him.
“Come deep inside me, Kingston.” He looks me in the eyes and I grab his face, I do his favorite thing and bite the corner of my lip and squeeze down on his cock.
“You’re so bad, a bad fucking girl.” He’s so foul when we make love, his words raw. If this were any other man, I would feel dirty. But with him I feel sexy and irresistible. I don’t feel like a whore, I feel like a desired queen.
