“What’re you doing? Don’t stop,” she whines.

It’s my turn to laugh. “Don’t worry, my queen, you’ll get what you want.” My fingers are still twined in her hair. I drag my sex-wet finger across her bottom lip, then suck it between mine. “You taste like you’re ready to come,” I whisper.

“Please, King.” She squeezes my erection.

I brush the tip of my nose against hers and ease my hand back into her panties. “Are you? Ready to come?” This time I push two fingers inside and feel the slight pulse as I brush her clit with my thumb. “I think maybe you are.”

I watch her face as I move my fingers inside her, enthralled by the sweet moans and whimpers that grow louder and lower with every curl and pump. She releases my erection so she can grip both of my shoulders, nails digging in as she rolls her hips. “Please tell me your mouth is next.”

“As soon as you come you can ride my tongue,” I assure her.

Apparently that’s the right thing to say, because she clenches around my fingers, body shaking with her first orgasm. I don’t even let her ride it out. Instead, I yank her panties down her legs—I don’t destroy them, though—and, like the last time we were in my bed, I stretch out and move her to straddle my face so I can bring her to orgasm again with my mouth while she takes me in hers. When she’s come twice more, I lay her out so her head rests on the pillows and kneel between her parted thighs. Her hair is wild and tangled, lips swollen, cheeks flushed. Her eyes are glassy and soft.

I use the head of my erection to tease her wet, swollen sex. “Tell me what you want.” I know what I’d like to happen now, but I want to make sure we’re on the same page.

“More of you.” She stretches out her legs and rests her heels on my shoulders. “All of you.”

I kiss her left ankle and drag the head down, nudging at her entrance. “Do you want me to fill you up?”

She moans and fists the sheets, toes curling. “Please, yes, God.”

I shift her leg so I can reach the nightstand drawer.

“What’re you doing?”

I pause. “I should get a condom?” I don’t know why it comes out as a question. It’s definitely what I should do. It’s the safest, smartest option.

“I get the shot. Every three months. I’m safe.” She bites her lip, uncertain. “You can pull out if you’re worried.”

“I’ll make a mess of you.”

“I don’t mind. We can take a shower together after.” She gives me a coy smile. “You can clean me up after you get me all dirty.”

I laugh and shake my head. “You really are perfect for me, you know that?”

“You’d be perfect for me if you’d stop teasing me and just fuck me already.”

She nudges the back of my neck with her toe, and I let her pull me down on top of her until her knees hit her chest. I adjust her legs so they’re wrapped around my waist and brush my lips along her jaw. Rolling my hips, I slip low again. I don’t push in, though, instead savoring her soft moans and the tremble in her limbs.

“Make me yours.” She drags her fingertips down my cheek. “It’s all I want, just to be yours.”

I curve my palm around the back of her neck and push inside on a low groan that she echoes. She arches, chin tipping back, eyes rolling up, and I shudder at the feel of her clenching around me.

“God, Queenie, are you coming already?”

Her nails dig into my arms and her lids flutter open, her hazy gaze meeting mine. “Is that what you want?”

Heat slams through my veins, and the urge to just . . . take becomes painfully acute. “Yes.”

“Tell me,” she murmurs.

“I want you to come while I’m inside you.” I suck her bottom lip and roll my hips again. “I want to covet every single one of your orgasms, and when I’m done with you there won’t be any question as to whether you’re mine.”

“Was there ever really a question in the first place?”

“Not for me, no.”

She strokes the edge of my jaw, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. “And are you mine?”

I sweep my thumb along the side of her neck. “All yours.”

“Good.” She pulls my mouth down to hers, smiling against my lips. “Now fuck me like I know you want to.”

I ease my hips back, pulling out all the way to the ridge before sinking back in. The first few strokes are slow, but with every moan and whimpered plea from Queenie to go harder, faster, give her more, make her come again, goddammit, the final threads of control threaten to snap.

“I’m not made of glass. Stop worrying that you’re going to break me.” She slaps my ass.

I push up on one arm and give her a look, sweat dripping from my temple to the pillow beside her, dangerously close to her cheek. I lean to the side, still trying to maintain some kind of rhythm as I wipe my forehead on the sheets, then shift so I can see her face again. “Jeez, Queenie, how much harder do you want me to go?”

“Why? You getting tired? Need to get on your back and let me do the work for a while?” She arches a challenging brow. “I’m more than happy to bounce around on your cock like you’re my personal pogo stick if you need a break.”

“Are you questioning my stamina?”

“Maybe we should do a couple of shots. You were a lot less restrained last time,” she goads.

“Last time I wasn’t inside you.” I punctuate the statement with a heavy thrust.

Queenie groans and slaps my ass a second time. “Again.”

So I do. And it gets me another ass slap.

“Stop slapping my ass.”

“Or what?” She does it again.

I give my head a slow shake. “Remember that you asked for it.”

Her eyes light up with something like triumph and then confusion as I push up, sit back on my heels, and pull out.

“What—”

I grab her ankles and flip her onto her stomach. She shrieks and then gasps when I grip her wrists and stretch out on top of her, raising our hands over her head. My erection slides along the crack of her ass, and I adjust my position until I’m nudging against her entrance again. I brush my lips over her cheek. “Is this okay?”

“Yes. More than okay.” Her voice vibrates with excitement. “This is what I’ve been waiting for.”

I press my lips to her temple. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

“It won’t be.”

I ease in and Queenie lifts her hips, pushing her butt up with a groan. And I give in, letting need and desire take over as I drive into her. I release her wrists, afraid I’m cutting off the circulation. She reaches back, fingers twining in my hair, twisting her head, seeking my mouth. I tuck one hand under her chin, tipping her head up and back so I can kiss her while I . . . basically pound her into the mattress.

There’s not a lot of finesse on my part. The headboard slams into the wall, a piece of art hits the floor, but I keep moving over her, groaning as she clenches around me, ridiculously pleased that she’s coming again, because it means I can let go.

The orgasm hijacks my body, slamming into me like a punch in the spine. I bite her shoulder, my erection kicking inside of her as I come. It isn’t until I collapse on top of her and she grunts out a “You’re really fucking heavy, King” that I push up on my dangerously shaky arms and roll off of her.

I wipe my sweaty face on the pillow. “Crap, sorry.” I brush her wild hair out of her face. It’s a knotted, tangled mess, and that would be 100 percent my fault. I skim the bite mark on her shoulder and cringe. “Are you okay?”

She props her chin on her fist and grins. “I’m great. How are you?” She reaches out and runs the fingers of her free hand through my damp hair.

“I’m . . . are you sure you’re okay? I went at you pretty hard.”

“I’m positively positive. I’m actually fantastic times a thousand. Also, I asked you to go hard.” She bites her lip, eyes searching my face. “I can handle a good dicking, King, especially since the only thing you’ve done in the past two weeks is dry hump me for a few seconds when you kiss me good night and graze my nipple through layers of fabric. I think we both needed that, don’t you?”

I laugh. “Yeah, I guess we did.” I slide an arm under her back and pull her closer so she’s sprawled out over my chest.

I brush her hair away from her face, but she’s just as sweaty as me so it sticks to her cheek, and it takes me a couple of tries before I manage to tuck it behind her ear.

“I think we need a shower,” I say.

“Probably, but it might be a good idea to get in sex round two before we do that, since I assume we’re going to get sweaty again.”

“You want a round two?”

She arches a brow. “Don’t you?”

“Well, yeah, of course, but—”

“But nothing, then. This time I get to ride you.” She braces her hands on my pecs and straddles my hips. “And if I forgot to mention it, I’m staying over again, but this time I won’t do a runner in the morning.”

CHAPTER 15

MORNING AFTER

Kingston