Page 40 of Teasing a King

I watch as Van’s narrow further in confusion then widen with understanding. One side of his mouth curves up into a smile.

“I think,” he says slowly, “They’re saying you want me as much as I want you.”

There’s a question in his words, a slight hesitation. No doubt he’s thinking of my list. Rule number 2. I keep my eyes locked on his in the mirror as I give him the barest nod in answer. Something shifts in his eyes. All at once, I can see the desire, the need, the hunger he’s kept hidden from me. I feel moisture pool at my center.

Keeping his eyes locked on mine, Van slowly lowers his head. He’s giving me time to change my mind, I realize. But I’ve made up my mind. I want this. I want him. I’m tired of pretending. I can’t do it anymore. I push the possible consequences and what it means for tomorrow out of my head. Tonight, I’m doing what I want. A tiny voice whispers that this is the kind of thinking that got me into this situation in the first place, but I shove it to the back of my mind where I can’t hear it.

Van’s head dips lower until his lips graze the side of my neck. I’ve been so starved for his touch, that even that small contact has me sucking in a breath. He kisses my neck, lingering there for an agonizingly long time before moving to my shoulder. His teeth graze the tendon there, pulling a soft gasp from me. He reaches up to slide the strap of my tank top down my arm. He moves slowly, leisurely as if we have all the time in the world. It’s a stark contrast to our first time together. My eyes fall closed as I focus on the sensation of his mouth and hands on my skin. His lips trail back up my neck to my jaw before pulling away from my skin altogether.

“Mya,” he whispers, his breath warm against my neck. “Keep your eyes open.”

My eyes fly open, and I meet his gaze in the mirror, a question on my tongue. Van smiles wickedly.

“I want you to watch,” he says. “You need to see how much I love your body. How sexy I find you.”

I squeeze my thighs tightly together, shocked at how much the idea turns me on.

“Okay.” I nod. My voice is a shaky whisper.

Van’s eyes flare with heat again and he lowers his mouth back to my neck. I take a small step backward until my body comes into full contact with his. I suck in a breath when I feel something hard press against my back. Any questions I have about whether he’s turned on are answered by that hard ridge resting against me. Van’s hands trail down my arms before moving to encircle my waist. His large hand splays against my belly for a moment before moving up to cup my breasts.

“I love touching you,” Van whispers, squeezing lightly. “God, I’ve missed the feel of you.”

His hands go to the hem of my tank top, and he slides it up. He moves slowly, giving me time to stop him if I wish. But I don’t. Instead, I raise my arms high, letting him slip the shirt up and off. My hair falls around my face in a mass of tumbling waves. I reach up to push it away from my eyes, my gaze still trained on our reflection. Van’s gaze is on me, taking in the newly exposed skin. I have the urge to raise my arms, to cover myself, but I don’t. I can tell from the look on Van’s face that seeing me this way turns him on.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, trailing a fingertip over the tip of one breast. Goosebumps ripple across my skin and my nipple hardens into a stiff peak.

Van moves around in front of me, blocking my view of the mirror for a moment with his large frame. I reach out a hand to touch him, feeling the hard planes of muscle under his t-shirt. Sense memory kicks in, taking me back to our night together when I ran my hands over every inch of his body. I pull in a shaky breath, willing myself to be patient. If Van can take it slowly, so can I. No matter how much I want him. I trail my hands up to his neck, my fingers tangling in the soft strands of his hair. My gaze lands on his mouth. How many times have I thought about kissing those lips? More than I can count. Now, I don’t have to imagine it.

I pull him down toward me as I rise on tiptoe to meet him. I see the little grin on his lips.

“So impatient,” he murmurs as our lips touch.

It’s still there, I marvel. All the heat and urgency and desire from the first time is still here between us now. I want to rush headlong toward it. I want to strip us both bare and let him fill me fast and hard until we’re both too weak to move. Van seems to have other ideas. He keeps the kiss slow and gentle, his lips and tongue teasing mine in little nips and slow caresses. It’s maddening. It’s slow, sensual torture. I love every second. When he pulls away, a little whimper escapes me and I lean forward, eager for more of his mouth on mine.

“Patience,” he whispers, trailing his lips down toward my neck.

“I’ve been patient for weeks,” I mutter, making Van huff out a laugh against my skin.

I reach for him, sliding a hand under the hem of his shirt to feel the warmth of his skin on mine. My hands smooth over soft skin stretched over taut muscle as I push the shirt higher. Van steps back long enough to pull the shirt over his head before reaching for me again. His mouth returns to my neck trailing kisses lower. I skim my hands over his bare back, longing to pull him closer. But he seems content to take his time and draw this out. I can see the mirror over Van’s shoulder now. The sight makes something inside me quiver with need. His head is bent low as he trails kisses over my collar bone. He looks so large as he looms over me, making me feel small and almost delicate in his arms.

Van’s shorts are slung low on his hips, making me long to push them down and take what I want. But he’s still moving so insufferably slow. He kisses and caresses his way down the slope of my breast, inching closer to my nipple with every teasing touch of his mouth. My nipple hardens in anticipation, and I feel another rush of moisture to my center.

“Van,” I whisper. “Please.”

I feel him smile against my skin. “So impatient,” he mutters just before I feel his mouth close around my nipple.

I let out a startled gasp as my body jerks. I hadn’t realized how sensitive my nipples had become. Van freezes, trying to pull away. I put my hand on his head to urge him to continue.

“Just…sensitive,” I murmur. “Don’t stop.”

After a moment, Van continues. His movements are gentler now, but they’re no less effective. I gasp and writhe under the onslaught of his lips and tongue and teeth against my sensitive flesh. My gaze goes back to the mirror, and I’m frozen by the sight. Van is nearly on his knees before me, worshipping my breast with his mouth and hands. I sink my fingers into the silky strands of his hair, holding him there as my mouth drops open in a silent gasp. He pays the same attention to my other breast. By the time he moves lower, I’m nearly panting with need, and I know I’m soaking wet.

He trails kisses down my belly to my hip until he meets with the barrier of my cotton shorts. His fingers curl under the waistband and he slides them down slowly, taking my panties with them. I watch as Van slides the last of my clothes down my legs and waits for me to step out of them. He tosses the garments aside and grins up at me before licking his lips.

Holy shit,I think.That’s hot.

He kisses my thigh first, just above my knee. I try to hide my disappointment, but I can feel him smile against my skin.

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