Page 82 of King of Pride

“I want to eat you alive,” he growled, his rough voice sending shivers down her spine as he switched back to the other breast.

He pulled back slightly, slicking his lower lip with a swipe of his tongue, watching intently as his thumb and index finger rolled her sensitive tip between them, then released it. His palm engulfed the entire softness, his fingers flicking and caressing over and over again, driving her wild with pleasure.

“Maverick…” she moaned, realizing her breath came in shaky bursts, but he seemed oblivious to her need. His mouth latched onto her nipple again, switching back and forth, each movement drawing out sharp breaths from her. Her head fell back, a moan escaping her lips,

“Ahhh… hahhhh.” Every stroke of his tongue sent tremors through her body, and the pleasure overwhelmed her, compelling her to yield entirely to his desires.

Just as she felt herself nearing the edge, about to collapse into ecstasy, he grabbed her shoulders and turned her around. Her hands instinctively fell against the wall for support, her body arching back toward him, betraying her with an insatiable need she had never known. Trembling hands pressed against the wall, her face buried in its cool surface, breaths shuddering.

Moments later, she felt him press against her, his body moving in sync with hers, his hand sliding between her legs. The length of him brushed against her, one hand gripping his girth while the other clutched her hips, pulling her back as he guided himself inside her, inch by tantalizing inch.

“Mhhmmmm…” A broken moan slipped from her lips, making her tremble and quiver under his touch. A sound of pure longing, making her tremble and quiver under his touch.

With each thrust, he filled her completely, igniting every nerve ending, as she surrendered to the intoxicating rhythm, losing herself in the depths of his desire.

Her vision blurred as her breath fogged the wall, every thrust sending delicious shivers up her spine. Each time he buried himself inside her, she felt shockwaves of pleasure rippling outward, melting her from the inside until her legs threatened to buckle.

“Mmmm!” She tried to bite back a moan, to keep their secret encased in the storeroom’s four thin walls, but it escaped anyway—a jagged, helpless sob that vibrated against the bricks.

He moved harder, faster, his hips slapping her thighs in a cadence that made her dizzy. Rose dug her nails into the mortar, grounding herself in the scrape and sting of stone against her palms. The hand between her legs never stilled, two fingers stroking her with expert precision. It was obscene, the way he played with her body.

When she felt herself crest again—a white-hot, blinding flood—she tried to hold back, afraid she’d fall apart and disappear altogether.

But she couldn’t. Not with him pressed so tight and alive behind her, not with her own body so greedy for every inch of him.

“Hahhh…! Ahhh!” Shudders raked her shoulders as she arched back, every muscle aching for more. His grip tightened at her waist, bruising and sure, and for a heartbeat he bent to her ear, his breath hot as a fever.

“I absolutely fucking love it when you moan,” Maverick growled, voice rough with his own unraveling.

Rose felt peeled open, a nerve stripped to its rawest edge. Even muffled in this room, even with her cheek pressed to the cool bricks, every sound seemed to echo through her. Each slap and gasp a record of her need.

She clenched around him and he swore, burying his face in her hair. His rhythm snapped, wild and erratic now. The heat built, a sharp-sweet agony, and she surrendered to it, felt herself fracture into a thousand brilliant pieces.

She bit the meat of her hand, muffling her cry as she came, the world telescoping down to the throbbing, the wet slide, the heat drumming up her bones. He chased her over, hands feral at her hips, his own release shuddering through her with a desperate, low groan like an animal breaking its leash. For a second they hung together in that perfect, senseless ruin, a tight knot of pulse and sweat and heart.

It was only after, when she let herself breathe, that she realized how hard she was shaking. He stayed pressed to her, forehead to her neck, arms braced around her middle like if he let go she’d collapse. She felt wrung out, boneless, so ruined she might never gather herself again.

When he finally drew back, he did it slow, nuzzling her hair, drawing his nose along her nape before pulling free. They both stood for a beat, unmoored, silent except for the quick-cooling rasp of their lungs.

He was still hard, somehow, still humming with that livewire need. He stepped back, his pants and shirt gone in a second, all of him pale and taut and hungry. She could barely stand, thighs quivering, but he caught her—easy, like she weighed nothing—lifted her bodily and caged her against the wall.

She heard the thunk of her head hitting drywall and then he was inside her again, too fast, too deep, and she gasped, legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. They moved together, frantic, both of them slick and noisy and not caring who might hear. She raked her nails down his back, left half-moons, pulled at his hair until he bared his teeth at her.

She was already sore, every stroke dragging oversensitized nerves, but she wanted more, wanted him to fuck the memory of the last hour out of her skull. He pinned her wrists above her, one-handed, and she melted against the wall, let herself be nothing but sensation.

The only things anchoring her were his mouth, his hands, the blunt shock of each slam forward. She felt bruised and wanted, wet everywhere, the air thick with their sweat. Her voice snarled up in her throat—too raw for words, just ugly stabs of sound—and all the while, his grip got harsher, almost desperate, as if he was holding on to her to keep himself alive.

“Oh… hahh… ahhhh…” Her spine arched off the wall, scraping drywall dust into the sweat on her back.

He mouthed at her neck and collarbone, teeth grazing hard enough to sting. It rattled something loose in her, a molten core that started in her gut and ricocheted through her whole body. Her climax was brief and feral, a shockwave that left her shuddering and blind. When she blinked back, he was still thrusting, a rhythm falling apart at the seams, his mouth open and breath ragged.

He let go of her wrists and cupped her ass, fucking her up higher against the wall like he wanted to bruise the memory right into her skin. His hand was hot where it gripped her, fingers digging in, the pain barely distinguishable from pleasure anymore. He groaned—almost a sob—and came, hips thrust so hard she felt it in her teeth.

They clung together, animal and unsteady, until the aftershocks faded. He pulled out and set her down, gently at first, but her knees wouldn’t lock. She sank to the carpet, breathless and punchdrunk, the night air cold and sharp on her skin.

***

Rose shifted in bed, her back turning slightly as a soft sigh escaped her lips. Her body was still sore from the night before, every movement reminding her of how thoroughly exhausted she was, but she slowly turned over anyway.