Page 6 of King of the Dawn

The sheets rustled behind me. I turned to catch Jericho stretching his arms over his head. His eyes were still closed. He was sprawled on his back, the black sheet hanging low on his waist. He yawned, then opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings.

His eyes darted wildly around the room, as if he were looking for something he lost. When they settled on me, he let out a sigh of relief. “What time is it?” he asked.

I headed for the bed, and when I reached him, I placed my book on the nightstand. “It’s almost time to leave,” I said, crawling on top of him. I pressed my mouth against his, holding his chin while I did.

He frowned, his brows wrinkling. “You let me sleep the day away?”

“You needed the rest.”

His nose scrunched in protest. “Shouldn’t you be at the spa getting pampered?”

I shook my head, brushing my nose against his. His mouth parted, and his head lifted for a kiss, but I pulled away before our lips touched. “I didn’t want to be away from you.”

Jericho’s hands ran up the nightgown I was wearing He squeezed, pinching the flesh of my arse so tightly that I moaned. Desire pulled in my belly the way it had whenever he looked at or touched me. I had forgotten sex could be so good when you had a considerate lover.

I rolled my hips against him, my center rubbing against his morning erection, the only barrier between us the thin fabric of my thong. The tip of his shaft pushed against that sweet bundle of nerves and I moaned, sliding along him for more friction.

The heat in my stomach coiled, spreading throughout my body, coursing through my veins. We were touching in so many places—my hands held his face, my thighs wrapped around his. Still, I was desperate to get closer to him. I wanted to mark our very souls with the other’s essence, so that even when we were apart, we’d feel each other—know we belonged together.

He let out a groan. “We’re going to be late to our own wedding.”

His voice was husky from sleep, as warm and thick as the vodka he drank.

“Let them wait.” I caught his bottom lip between my teeth. “It can’t start without us.”

He chuckled, and I drank in the sound as I kissed him. I slid a hand between us, tugging my panties away, and in one swift movement, shoved his cock inside. I cried out at the sudden fullness and pressed my hands against his chest to brace myself.

I whimpered in desperation as I rode him, fast and hungry.

“Fuck, baby.” His hands rode up the sides of my body, his thumb running along the ridges of my scars. I felt the hot metal of his ring against my skin; the one I had in my keeping long before I knew it belonged to him – that I belonged to him.

I felt like the witch he always called me, hungry and wanton, riding him to my completion… or as he liked to call it, bouncing. I moaned, his hands sliding up my bare skin until he reached my breasts. He pinched a nipple, twisting it between his fingers.

His panting grew with each motion of my hips, until we were both sweating and out of breath. I reached for his hand, braiding our fingers together, and slid them to where we were joined.

“I love you,” I whispered.

His velvet eyes held onto mine, speaking the words that were caught in his throat. He didn’t have to say them because I knew them to be true.

Jericho’s free hand snaked up, toward my throat. He clutched me and yanked my face toward his with that familiar firm grip holding me in place. Our mouths clashed in a dire need to be connected. I drank from his mouth, the taste of vodka still there from the night before.

Our lives together flashed through my mind. Children running through the garden. Both our children and the grandchildren Rose would be giving him. I could feel the presence of their laughter, the way my heart would cry for joy as I held them.

I saw the sprinkling of white strands on our heads until we both went white.

And then came more grandchildren. More happiness, more tears, and more memories that brought me joy. I saw a small candle shop where I could sell my oddly shaped gothic wax molds without being judged, the scent of lilacs and lavender wafting through the air, as the vision was here, now. So real and raw, and possible.

Jericho was my hope. He was the trickling of stars lighting my dark path. The reason I had the courage to kill my first husband, the reason my heart was beating.

My body tensed, the overwhelming emotions shuttering through me. I pulled my mouth from his, letting out an earth-shattering cry of pleasure while my climax took over.

Jericho wasn’t far behind, his already hard cock filling me even more with its twitching until he released deep within me. I collapsed on top of his chest, my fingers playing with the tuft of hair there.

I was sated in mind, body, and soul. My eyes grew heavy, and I refused to move even when he gently nudged me.

“We have to get ready,” he whispered against the top of my head. I groaned my displeasure and he laughed. “Come, sweet Evie. Time to start our lives together.”

I sighed but pushed myself up. Before I could climb off of him, he grasped my face between his hands, demanding my attention.

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