Page 78 of Kingmakers, Year Two

The power Miles has over me is heady and terrifying. He literally holds my life in his hands. I know that if he wanted to cut off my air, there’s nothing I could do to stop him.

My blood thunders harder than ever, concentrating in my pussy while my head floats high and light.

The harder I ride him, the more intense the sensation becomes. Miles’ eyes are locked on mine, his powerful hands squeezing around my throat, applying just the right amount of pressure to put me entirely under his control. I’m dizzy and hot, and I can’t stop, I’m bucking my hips, feeling that intense warmth and pressure in my belly again, that feeling like I’m going to erupt. Nothing on this earth can stop it.

I cum again, even harder than before. My brain soars and I’m delirious, bright flashes of color popping in front of my eyes. Miles lets out a roar that I can barely hear in the midst of my own ecstasy. His cock twitches and pulses, slamming deep inside of me, forcing out one last burst of pleasure for him and for me.

When I come back down to earth, I can’t see or speak. I take huge gasps of air, the oxygen tasting like pure, cool mountain air in my lungs.

“What . . . the hell . . .” I moan.

“Did you like that?” Miles asks.

“It was unbelievable.”

Miles seizes me and kisses me, biting my lips.

“You’re mine,” he growls. “All mine.”

“I only want to be yours,” I sob. “Don’t let him take me.”

“I promised you,” Miles says. “I don’t make promises easily. And I never break them after.”

He crushes me against his body, holding me so tight that I know for certain he’ll never let me go.

I touch my throat with my fingertips. I expect it to feel swollen or sore, bruised even, but it’s completely fine. Even in the fever pitchof his arousal, Miles never lost control. He was careful not to hurt me, not even to leave a mark.

I stay on his lap a long time, curled up against him, listening to his heart racing against my ear. Eventually its beating slows, becoming a steady metronome instead.

Hours have passed. It’s late at night.

Still, we stay together.

When Miles finally shifts, I feel a stab of disappointment.

It eases when he says, “I don’t want to take you back yet. Let’s stay a while longer.”

“Yes, please,” I agree.

Miles picks up the remote again, switching the music to something slower and more romantic. He pulls me up off the sofa and then into his warm embrace. We sway together, naked but not cold, wanting every inch of our skin to touch.

“This song’s from a movie, too,” he says. “Do you know it?”

I shake my head.

“I’ll play it for you next time.”

I look up into his face.

“How many next times will there be?”

“Infinite,” he says.

14

MILES

All through January and February, I strategize how to break Zoe’s marriage contract.

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