Page 70 of Wicked King

Would she still insist on an open marriage? Would she at least allow me to fuck her first?

I’ve dreamed of sinking my cock into that sweet pussy since the moment I first laid eyes on her. Just the thought of it has my dick hardening.

Shaking my head, I heave in a breath. Cold shower and bed. That’s what lies in my future. But first, I have to get my wife upstairs. Gently lifting her off the couch, I cradle her in my arms. A faint sigh purses her lips, and she leans her head against my chest.

My heart kicks at my ribs. Dio, this woman has my heart and balls in a chokehold.

Nico’s words at the hospital a week ago flit to the surface of my mind: Love sucks, huh, fratello?

As I carry Jia up the stairs, I consider the last few months since this woman bulldozed into my life, and a smile threatens. After Isa, I vowed never to love again. I would never allow myself to be that vulnerable. Her death nearly destroyed me.

When I reach the loft, I tiptoe the final steps to the massive bed. The bed I haven’t slept in once since I moved into this damned apartment. Gently lowering Jia onto the silky sheets, I hold my breath so as not to wake her. Despite the pain pills, she hasn’t been sleeping well. She tosses and turns at night, sometimes crying out.

It kills me to see the fierce woman plagued by nightmares.

I’m all too familiar with the feeling.

Briefly contemplating removing the sheer-sleeved sundress she wears, I reconsider, knowing how pissed she’d be at me having undressed her in her sleep. Instead, I pull the comforter up and tuck it around her sleeping form. Her chest rises and falls slowly, the slight movement entrancing. I spent the past week in the hospital watching her sleep like a psycho. She’s not the only one who needs rest.

Before I consider the ramifications, I lean closer and brush a kiss to her forehead. Another faint sigh tumbles free, and my stupid heart pinches. This damned, fiery woman will be the death of me, I’m sure of it.

Forcing my gaze away from her peacefully sleeping form, I slowly back away and disappear into the closet. Stripping my clothes off, exhaustion sets in, bone deep. Fuck the shower. It can wait until tomorrow. I’ve suffered through blue balls for months; another night isn’t going to make a difference.

Once I’m down to only boxers, I saunter back into the bedroom and head for the bed. I’m too tired to go back downstairs to the guest room, and this is my damned bedroom after all. I gingerly crawl onto my side of the mattress and the moment my head hits the pillow, my lids begin to close.

Until the feel of a warm body snaps them wide open.

Jia curls into my side, eyes still firmly closed. Her arm winds around my waist, and she mumbles something in her sleep I can’t quite make out. Her warmth seeps into me, flooding my veins.

Fantastic, now I’m hard again.

Sunlight streams in through the gap in the curtains, directed straight at my eyes. I groan and attempt to roll over, but Jia is still curled into my side. So much for a good night’s rest. I’d barely slept, scared to move and jostle her wound. And still, her mere presence insured I awoke with a raging boner.

Now I’m tired and horny as fuck.

On the bright side, at least Jia seems to have slept peacefully.

A dull throb pounds across my shoulder from remaining in the same position all night. Who knew Jia’s head was so heavy? Okay, I have to move… Carefully, I slide her head farther down to my chest, freeing my arm.

Not ideal, but better at least.

The ties of her sundress have fallen off her shoulders, revealing the swell of her breasts, and my cock twitches at the sight. Fuck, it’s about time for that cold shower. As I contemplate the best way to extricate myself without waking her, she begins to stir. Her arm glides down my bare torso and her slender fingers graze my hard-ass cock.

For the love of all things… I grit my teeth as her lids begin to flutter.

Jia lets out a yawn, her fingers still dangerously close to my raging erection. She finally glances up at me, and her eyes widen in surprise.

“Morning, spitfire,” I rasp out.

“M—morning…” She glances around the bedroom, but she doesn’t move. “How did I get here? Those pain pills must have been stronger than I thought.” She drags a hand through her tangle of dark locks. Shockingly, she doesn’t yell at me for crawling into bed with her either.

“You fell asleep on the couch, so I carried you up last night.”

“Oh.” As if she finally notices the precarious location of her hand, she pulls her arm back and rolls onto her back so her body is no longer pressed against mine. But her eyes roam to my visible arousal and remain there for an endless moment.

I wait for her squeal of disapproval, but it never comes. Instead, she just lays there, staring at it. “It’s time for that cold shower,” I finally mutter when the silence lingers on dangerously between us.

“Wait…” Her hand falls onto my bare chest again. “I’ve been meaning to thank you. You’ve been surprisingly decent since… everything.”

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