Page 82 of Kingmakers, Year Two

I have to laugh. “Why are you surprised? Hasn’t it been obvious for a while?”

“When did you start loving me?”

I think back. “In the infirmary. When you told me not to pity you.”

She shakes her head at me, a slow smile stealing over her soft, full lips.

“I love you too, Miles,” she says.

“Since when?”

Now she’s smiling all the way, her eyes gleaming.

“Since I saw you naked,” she says.

I laugh, seizing her and kissing her hard.

“Is that the only reason?”

“Yes. I’m horribly shallow.”

“You know what, I’m fine with that. I’ve always wanted to be objectified.”

I pull my sweater over my head, baring my chest.

“Feast your eyes.”

Zoe does look at me, her amusement turning to lust in an instant. Her eyes rove over my body, and she runs her fingertips down my chest, raising goosebumps on my arms.

She kisses me right over my heart, her soft, warm mouth sending shivers across my skin. Then she runs her tongue softly along the lines of my left pec, and my cock goes rock hard in my pants. I want her tongue in other places. I want my tongue on her even worse.

She’s wearing trousers again today, with suspenders over her pullover, and lace-up oxfords on her feet. I love when she looks tomboyish. The juxtaposition between the boyish clothes and the ultra-feminine body underneath is wildly erotic. I pull down her suspenders, then take off her top, and put the suspenders back up on her shoulders again so the wide elastic just barely covers her nipples, pressing down on her breasts, making them look rounder than ever.

“Let me take a picture of you,” I say.

“Like this?” Zoe looks down at her near-naked torso, shaking her head and blushing.

“Let me do it,” I say. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

Zoe bites her lip, considering. Then she says, “Alright. Tell me what to do.”

If there was any blood left in my head, it all rushes to my groin as soon as she starts taking orders. If there’s one thing I can agree upon with that psychopath Rocco, it’s that there’s no greater rush than having a woman as brilliant and gorgeous as Zoe bent to your will.

The difference is that I want her to do it willingly, gladly. I want her to get off on it just as hard as I do.

“Stand by the window,” I tell her.

The golden evening light streams through the dusty glass. The glass is too thick and bubbled and filthy to worry that anyone could see Zoe from the other side—at most she’d be a shadow moving behind the opaque pane.

The light glows on her skin. It highlights the curves of those phenomenal breasts and the indents of her waist. Her figure is an hourglass inside the boxy male clothing. Her thick, dark hair gives her a wild, untamable look. Yet, I’m taming her. She obeys me as I tell her how to stand, which way to turn.

I use my phone to snap the pictures. With each shutter click, my cock gets stiffer and stiffer.

“Lean back against the window. Lift your arms. Lower the suspenders.”

Zoe obeys, her eyes fixed on me and her cheeks flushed pink. When she drops the suspenders, her nipples have gone dark and pebbled, jutting out from her chest, tightening her breasts.

Tiny bits of dust float in the sunbeams, dancing around her skin.

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