Page 84 of Wicked King

My chest aches as I take her in and before I can stop myself, I’m on my feet moving toward her. Cazzo, I’m in love. My ribs constrict, squeezing my failing organ at the visceral truth. I’m totally out of my mind in love with my wife. Her dark gaze rakes over me as I approach, and I halt abruptly only a few inches before I reach her, my arms longing to wrap around her waist and hold her close. Maybe she doesn’t want me to touch her. Maybe I hurt her, and she’s really pissed. “I’m sorry,” I mutter.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one that freaked out and ran. I’m sorry.” Her eyes meet mine, and my jaw nearly unhinges at the unexpected apology.

I release a breath of relief and reach for her hand. I’m pleasantly surprised when she allows my fingers to tangle with hers. “Are you okay?”

The hint of a smile curls the corner of her lip. “Just a little sore from your ridiculously large cock.”

I bark out a laugh and draw her into my chest, squeezing her slender form tight against my own, nearly forgetting all about the wound. “Why didn’t you just tell me to stop?” I whisper against the top of her head.

“Because I liked it.”

I hold her out to arm’s length because I have to see her face after that startling confession. “You did?” I don’t know much about a woman’s first time, because I never cared to, but from what I’ve seen in movies, it seemed painful.

Her intense eyes chase to mine, and the darkness from a moment ago lifts. “It hurt like hell for a few seconds, but then, it was starting to get better.”

“Then why did you run?”

She pulls back her arm and slams her petite fist into my chest, right at the dragon’s snout. “Because I didn’t want you to see me cry.”

“It hurt that bad?”

“No,” she squeals. “I wasn’t crying because of the pain, you idiot.”

Dio, I don’t think I’ll ever understand this woman. “Then why?”

Her gaze casts down to the floor, one hand still pressed to my chest and the other toying with the long sleeves of her robe. “I was just emotional… I honestly don’t know what came over me.”

Hmm, interesting. She wouldn’t be the first woman I’ve made cry during sex, but it was for completely different reasons the other times. “So…you enjoyed it?”

“Yes.”

I reach for her chin, trapping it between my fingers and force her eyes to mine. “And you’d like to do it again?”

A lopsided smile curves her lips. “Maybe…”

My cock hardens at the thought. And wearing only boxers, the effect that one word has on me is painfully evident. Her gaze dips to my fully tented crotch.

“Not right now,” she squeaks.

“Why not? Wait—I have an idea.” I scoop her into my arms and carry her toward the stairs.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.” I race up the steps, taking them two at a time as anticipation sends heat and a rush of blood to my throbbing cock. The image of Jia in the bathtub, all wet and covered in indecent bubbles has my footsteps quickening.

When we reach the master bathroom, I prop Jia on the edge of the marble tub and spin the faucets.

She wraps the robe tighter around her waist and glares up at me. “What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious? We’re taking a bath.” I drag my boxers down and they slough onto the marble floor.

She shakes her head, something like panic streaking across those expressive midnight spheres. “Nope, not happening.”

“But why? You said you were sore… this will help. I promise, I won’t even touch you if you don’t want.”

“I said no.” She knots her arms across her chest and shoots me a narrowed glare.

“Come on, Jia, why not?” Turning off the running water, I drop down beside her. “Please, just tell me what it is. I want to understand you.” I drag a hand through my hair, a mix of frustration and confusion elevating my pulse. “I’m really trying here…” I pry her hand from beneath her underarm and press it between mine. It’s so small and delicate compared to my big, rough ones.

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