Page 78 of Exposed

Lord Almighty, does he suck.

I arch into his mouth for more.

King isn’t taking his time. There’s no working up to anything.

The button on my shorts rips open as I lose his lips and mouth when he puts a hand to the bed and looms over me. He looks straight into my eyes when he slides a hand down my shorts and straight into my panties.

“I’ve been thinking about this since the first moment I kissed you at The Pink and you had no fucking idea who I was. Held you in my arms, tasted your tongue on mine, and I knew it wasn’t enough. Knew I’d need more of you. What I didn’t know is that the promise of you would be so much, that this part of you would just be a bonus.”

His fingers slide easily through my sex, and I’m not the only one who notices.

“You’re so fucking wet. The promise of this is just as sweet as your heart. And right now, I don’t want to stop until I’ve earned both.”

Earned.

That hits me somewhere deep I’ve never felt before.

I put my feet to the bed and press into his hand.

His eyes roam my body, from my shirt askew revealing one breast, to my shorts ripped open with his hand buried deep inside.

And I have no idea what my expression looks like. My entire body is on fire in the best way possible.

“You like this.”

His smooth, cool tone gives me goosebumps. When I open my eyes to look at him, a satisfied expression sits on his handsome face.

“I do,” I confirm on a breath.

I’m not sure what’s different about King. Maybe it’s the stress from the last week. But I don’t overthink or compartmentalize or evaluate why I want this more than anything I’ve wanted in a long time. Maybe ever.

But I’m in control, and I love that.

I give into my aching desire.

For him.

“Don’t stop,” I plead and realize this is the second time I’ve begged for his touch.

That wins me a firm circle of my clit. It’s delicious and slow. It also takes my breath away.

So when I do lose his touch, my complaint slips out before I can stop it. “What … what are you doing?”

“Do you think I’d really leave you like this?” His smirk swells into a grin that looks too good on his rugged face. “I want to see.”

As I lie here in a state of twisted sexual frustration, he dips hisfingers into my shorts at the hips and pulls. Denim and cotton slide quickly down my legs and clear the tips of my toes.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs.

When I look up, King is staring down at me, studying me like there might be a test later.

He pushes my knees away and my legs part. He’s hungry. Ravenous. It’s his expression that pushes me to a place that is so not like me, I hardly recognize myself.

I’m not embarrassed or shy or self-conscious.

I should be.

The real me would be mortified.

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