Page 147 of King


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His lips brush mine. Once. Twice. And on the third time, he presses his to mine. Hard.

And I cave. Opening my mouth to kiss him back.

King groans at my submission, and his hands slide down from my shoulders to my breasts, cupping and squeezing them through the thin fabric of my dress.

My hands go back to their original goal, and start working on King’s shirt, until it’s unbuttoned all the way.

I press my palms against King’s stomach, feeling the muscles beneath his skin flexing at my touch.

“Grab my dick, Baby.” King rolls his hips forward and I drop my hands to comply, palming him over the material of his pants.

He’s so thick. So hard.

King releases his grip on my chest to rip off his belt and shove a hand down the front of his pants. He leaves them on but adjusts himself so that his cock is pointing up, the tip sticking out of the waistband, a bead of precum glistening in the faint light.

He swipes his thumb across the tip, gathering his essence, and brings the drop up to my mouth.

“You’re gonna come twice tonight.” He drags his thumb across my lips. “Once before I get inside of you. And once while I’m pumping you full of my seed.”

Sweet mother of god, I’m about to come now.

I lick my lips, tasting him. Flooding my panties.

“Can you do that for me, Savannah? Can you be my good girl and come twice?”

I nod.

“I want your words.”

“Yes, My King.”

King’s grin slithers across my skin.

“Fucking perfect.” King dips down, gripping me by my ass, and lifting me into his arms. “You are fucking perfect.”

His mouth fuses to mine and warmth swamps me when he hugs me tight against his body, and I can feel his length against my core.

I’m soaked. And the pressure on my clit pushes a moan out of my throat.

With his big hands spread across my ass, his fingers work their way under the edges of my underwear, until his hands are against my bare skin.

His tongue is still invading my mouth and the constant rumble in his chest feels like heaven against my nipples.

Gripping my ass, his fingertips spread me, making me squirm in his grip, as the fabric of my underwear rubs against my back entrance.

Through all of this, King keeps rocking me against his length and I’m embarrassingly close to coming already.

“King!” I pull my mouth from his to gasp for breath.

Up here, at his height, I can see over King’s shoulder into the room behind him. And the man within.

My body tries to stiffen, but I’m still wrapped around King, and he just hugs me closer. Still rocking me on his length.

The man is sitting in the middle of the room, tied up and gagged, with a taut chain wrapped around his neck and suspended from the ceiling.

“Trust me,” King whispers against my ear.

But there’s a man. Tied up in a basement.

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