Page 119 of Serpent King's Prisoner

His mouth moved against my neck, his breath warm against my skin. “Is this okay?” He asked between kisses, his hand continuing its motion within me.

“Yes,” I breathed out, my head falling back as the pleasure built within me. “I need your cock.”

The words were a needy plea, one that made Nathan’s eyes flash dark with desire. But he didn’t rush, didn’t go on autopilot mode in his eagerness to seal the connection between us. His fingers stilled within me, his palm pressing against my heated core.

“Are you sure?” he asked again, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down my spine. His other hand cupped my face, his thumb stroking my cheekbone as he watched me.

I nodded, biting my lower lip as I looked into those dark eyes dilated with need. “Please,” I said, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him closer. “Don’t make me wait anymore.”

His groan echoed in the silent car as he pulled his hand away, quickly sliding his pants and boxers down before aligning himself at my entrance. I felt the tip of him against me, the moment of tension before he pushed in, making me whimper in anticipation.

It was as if the world stood still. His gaze held mine captive, offering a silent vow that echoed in the stillness of the car. Then, slowly, he pushed inward, his girth stretching me in an achingly sweet way.

The sensation was startlingly intense, but I welcomed it. I welcomed him. His breath hitched as he began to move slowly, his eyes never leaving mine as he filled me again and again.

Our rhythm was slow and deliberate, the tension winding tighter with every thrust. He was careful and considerate, pausing every now and then to make sure I was okay. Each touch, each movement showed his commitment to my pleasure, to us.

His voice was a low growl, sending shivers down my spine as he murmured into my ear, “Abby.” Just my name, but uttered with such raw emotion that it sent me over the edge.

I clenched around him, gasping as my climax took me. His fingers dug into my hips, his thrusts growing erratic as he too succumbed to the pleasure, our bodies moving in a desperate rhythm. “Nathan,” I whispered, clinging to him as waves of pleasure washed over us.

Slowly, our breathing began to normalize. Nathan pulled out gently, allowing me to sit back in the passenger seat. He zipped up his pants and buckled his belt before leaning back in his seat, reaching out to take my hand.

“We’re going to change things,” he murmured softly, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand. “For us. For the future.”

I tried for a smile. “Yeah. I know.”

I did know.

I just didn’t think it was how he wanted things to change.

I didn’t like that no matter what happened, I would hurt him. But fuck–at least I got to get out of this alive.

Chapter Fifty-Three: Nathan

I’d only just had her in the car, but I was already hard for round two.

The heat between us hadn’t cooled one bit as we stumbled up the stairs from the garage, lips locked like our lives depended on it. My hands couldn’t get enough of her, roaming across her back, pulling her closer.

“Abby,” I groaned against her mouth, the taste of her driving me insane.

“Right now, Nathan,” she gasped out, her breath hot on my face. It was a demand, not a plea, and it lit a fire in my gut. I needed her, right then, and nothing was going to stop me.

The door slammed shut behind us with a thud that echoed through the empty stairwell. Our kissing was frantic, all tongue and teeth and desperation. She clung to me, her nails digging into my shoulders through my shirt, and I reveled in the sweet sting.

“Forever,” I mumbled into her hair. It wasn’t just lust talking—it was something deeper, stronger, something I never thought I’d feel. Every step we took up those stairs was a step further into territory I’d never dared to explore. With every breath, I wanted her more—not just her body, but everything she was.

Abby Harper, with her fierce green eyes and that spirit that matched my own intensity.

“I’m yours, Nathan,” she breathed, her voice heavy with desire. Her words were a vice around my heart, tightening with every second. We crashed against the wall, barely noticing the pictures that rattled in their frames.

This was more than sex; it was a claiming, a promise without words.

“Mine,” I said back, voice rough, echoing down the corridor. It was a vow, and I poured all of myself into that one word. Abby Harper, the woman who could hold her ground against anyone, had chosen me. And I was hers, completely and irrevocably.

I yanked at her dress, a deep growl rumbling from my chest as the fabric tore away with each step we ascended. Her fingers were just as impatient, fumbling with the buttons of my shirt until it hung open, revealing the tattoos that snaked across my skin—a permanent reminder of the life I led. My slacks followed, kicked aside without a thought.

“Upstairs,” I grunted, the need for her eclipsing all else. And she complied, her own urgency matching mine as we stumbled up the last few steps towards my room. Our clothing marked our path like breadcrumbs; a dark trail of discarded intimacy leading to the one place where I could have her completely.

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