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He’s already hard. I only saw a glance, but I can feel his length pressing into me. Trapped between his huge, strong body and my own smaller, more fragile one.
I open my mouth, and he invades it. His tongue lashing against mine.
And I feel everything.
I feel the way I hurt him.
I feel the way I scared him.
Hands tangle in my hair, and he yanks my head back, making my neck arch.
“Tell me you’re sorry,” he growls against my mouth.
“I’m sorry!” I cry.
He hasn’t given me any proof. Hasn’t given me anything but his word. But I believe him. And the guilt I feel over not trusting him claws at my insides. Even after everything he’s put me through, I hate that I thought the worst of him.
“Tell me you’re sorry for leaving me.” King sounds so mad.
My hands reach out for him. My fingertips digging into the bare skin at his sides.
His hands slide down to my waist and he lifts me.
“Tell me,” he growls.
“I’m sorry,” My apology turns into a moan when my legs wrap around his waist and I can feel himthere.
“No more running,” he shoves his hips against mine, his cock almost painfully hard against my sensitive center.
One hand leaves my waist to roughly cup my breast. My unpadded bralette and tank top doing nothing to hide the way my nipples are straining for his touch.
Another moan wraps around me.
My body is so primed for him. So ready to take him. And I want to hate myself for it. I know I should hate myself for it. But he came for me.
I ran. And he came for me.
King hooks a finger in the front of my shirt, catching the edge of my bra at the same time, and yanks them both down. He pauses for a second, as the cash I forgot about tumbles free, but then he hikes me higher against the wall and wraps his lips around my nipple.
I practically sob at the sensation.
His hot mouth. The way his tongue licks at my nipple while his teeth press into my soft flesh.
A groan rumbles from King’s mouth to my skin, and I can’t stop my hips from rocking.
It feels so damn good.
When King pulls down the other side of my shirt, hard enough to snap the strap of my tank top, I move my hands up to cling to his shoulders. Feeling his muscles flex and bulge while he suckles on the other peek.
“Jesus.” He laps at my flesh. “Fuck.” His teeth graze over my breast. “Hold on.” When I don’t react, he lifts his head to snap at me, “Hold on to me.”
I circle my arms around his neck and hold him close as he presses his chest against mine, pinning me against the wall with his weight.
Then I feel it.
His hands between my legs. Grabbing at the material.
A tear rips through the air a second before fingers touch my panties.
