Page 73 of Wicked King

His head falls back and a laugh roars out. It’s deep and genuine and sends my heart staggering. When the laughter finally falls away, he pins those mesmerizing eyes to mine and grins. “You feel okay? Nothing hurts?”

I slowly shake my head. For the first time in a week, I haven’t thought about the shooting or my wound.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“It’s not bad…”

“Liar.” With his eyes still fixed to mine, he slips a finger inside me and I’m so wet, he glides right in. “Damn, you’re so tight, wifey.”

The sudden intrusion is so unexpected, a squeal escapes. Then he starts to move, pumping in and out of me, and my hips take up the tantalizing rhythm. His thumb finds my clit as his finger continues to thrust, and again, that rush of heat consumes me.

“Eyes on me, spitfire. I want you to remember exactly who gave you the best orgasm of your life without even using my cock.”

My breath hitches. I’m a writhing, wriggling mess, the intensity of his gaze only heightening the desperate tangle of sensations.

He glides a second finger inside, and the feeling of utter fullness nearly sends me plummeting over the edge. “We have to get you ready for me, spitfire.”

My eyes widen as I regard him, genuine fear lancing through my chest. Now that I’ve had a front row view of his cock, I’m not certain he’s the best option considering my virginal status. I must tense up because his cocky smile falters.

“Relax, it’s not going to happen today—but trust me when I say it will happen. And not only because we should consummate the marriage.” His eyes smolder as they regard me. “But because you are my wife, and I will claim every inch of you once you’re ready.”

With his thumb still teasing my clit, those fingers pumping in and out, and my orgasm looming closer, I simply bob my head. Because the truth is, I want him. I want my infuriating, philandering, arrogant husband to be my first. Possibly my only.

As if the silent admission frees something inside me, the fire blossoms and my fingers dig into the silky sheets as raging energy rushes my veins.

“Come for me, Jia. Me and only me.”

The orgasm tears through me with the force of a wild tempest, igniting every nerve and setting my senses ablaze with an intoxicating rush of euphoria. My eyes close at the rush of sensations but Marco’s reprimand snaps them open again.

“I said eyes on me, spitfire.” His irises are two pits of smoldering heat, one the most brilliant blue and the other the darkest midnight.

I do as I’m told because apparently, I become mindless in the midst of an amazing orgasm. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me, the vibrations encompassing my mind and body. I’ve never felt anything like this. Clearly, I’ve been missing out. The handful of guys I hooked up with in college did not know there way around a clit. But my new husband…

Another thrill skates up my spine as my gaze deviates from his and drops to the once again erect, enormous veiny beast between his legs.

My head falls back against the pillow as the final tremors fall away. I suck in a deep breath, refilling my lungs. That orgasm has literally stolen all the air away.

A smug grin curls Marco’s lips as he crawls up the bed beside me. “Tell the truth, spitfire, was it the best you’ve ever had?”

Like I’d ever give him the satisfaction. “It was fine.”

Another wild roar of laughter bursts free. “Right…” He brings his finger up between us and pops it into his mouth. His tongue swirls around his thick digit before his cheeks hollow as he sucks. “Mmm, I could get used to this sweetness.”

Oh. My. God.

I’ve never been with a man who speaks like this.

“Have you ever tasted yourself?”

My lips pucker as he offers me his middle finger. The one which was just buried deep inside me. “No, thank you.”

“You’re missing out, spitfire. You taste like spiced honey, a hint of fire with a sweet finish.”

Another blast of heat streaks below my belly button. I clench my thighs to smother the lusty sensations. “I’ll take your word for it.”

As the conversation falls away, I glance over the edge of the bed in search of my panties. They’re nowhere in sight. Then it occurs to me, Marco is still completely naked beside me, and his big, thick cock looks ready to go again. Worse, there’s something about the look in his eye…

“I think I need to change the dressing on my wound.”