Page 42 of Teasing a King

Chapter Seventeen

Van

“Holy shit,” Mya breathes, collapsing in a boneless heap against me.

My heart is pounding, and my breaths are coming in pants. I can’t feel my legs. I realize all at once that I’m still on my knees, my legs tucked under me. No wonder I can’t feel them. Mya is still straddling my lap, my cock still inside her. I know I should move, but I don’t want to let her go just yet. Still holding her to me, I manage to maneuver enough to straighten my legs, ignoring the pain as the feeling rushes back to my extremities.

“You can say that again,” I manage.

Mya laughs, her forehead resting on my shoulder. “That was amazing,” she says. “Mind blowing. I think I may have levitated.”

“About rule number two,” I say, a question in my voice.

“What’s that?” Mya asks, raising her head to look at me. Her hair is wild, tumbling around her face and shoulders in waves. The sight of her wide smile sends relief coursing through me. I’d wondered if she might regret what we just did, but her words and that smile are enough to set my mind at ease.

I grin back at her, cupping her ass in both hands. “I already forgot what it was,” say, lowering my head to kiss her. Mya responds by kissing me back with a hunger that matches my own. I can feel my dick stirring to life again already, despite the force of my recent orgasm. And it had been spectacular. More incredible than even our first night together. That reminds me.

“Are you okay?” I ask, looking her over. “I didn’t hurt you or anything?”

Mya laughs. “I’m wonderful,” she says. “You definitely did not hurt me. In fact.” She wiggles against me, causing my dick to harden further. “I don’t think I’ve had enough of you just yet,” she murmurs, kissing her way down my neck.

“Fine, fine,” I say in a long-suffering voice. “You can use me for your own amusements. I just have one request.”

“What’s that?” Mya asks, leaning back to look at me.

“We move to the bed,” I say, laughing. “My knees are killing me.”

Mya’s shoulders shake with laughter. She kisses me one last time before climbing off my lap and standing and stretching her arms up over her head. I immediately miss the feel of her in my arms, but I use the moment to my advantage. I take in the sight of her naked body, my eyes traveling from her head to her toes. She’s incredible. How she ever felt anything less than beautiful astounds me. She finishes her stretch and looks down at me, catching me staring at her.

“What?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

I move to stand, not taking my eyes off hers. “You,” I say, reaching out to gently pull her arms away from her body so I can see more of her. “I like looking at you.”

Mya smiles, clearly pleased with my answer. Her eyes rake over my naked body. “You’re not so bad to look at either,” she says, lacing her fingers through mine.

She walks toward the bathroom, tugging me along with her. I realize her intent when she reaches into the shower and turns on the water. Mya kisses me while we wait for the water to warm up. I pull her against me, feeling myself harden again. I know we just had sex, but I feel like I’ll never get enough of this woman.

Judging by the way she’s kissing me back Mya feels the same way. Part of me wants to think about what this will mean for the two of us going forward. What it will mean for our little family, for our child. But right now, I don’t want to think about tomorrow. I want to take this moment for just the two of us. I let Mya pull me into the shower with her and let the warm water wash away all thoughts of the future.

Later, we eat a dinner of leftover pizza. Mya sits on the kitchen counter wearing my shirt and those skimpy shorts I love so much. I can’t keep my eyes off her, or my hands. It seems the feeling is mutual, because Mya keeps finding reasons to touch me. A brush of her hand on my arm or a nudge of her knee against me. I marvel at the change in our dynamic now. Things between us feel easy and free. The tension that had existed between us is gone. It’s as though now that we’ve given ourselves permission to act on our desires, we no longer need to hide part of ourselves from one another.

When I move to stand between Mya’s legs, she gives me a mischievous look and wraps her legs around my waist, locking her ankles together to trap me against her. My hands go to her thighs, stroking her soft skin. I lean in and kiss her, feeling her respond immediately. Her tongue darts out to meet mine, swirling against it. My dick twitches and I marvel at the way a simple kiss can garner such a reaction. But it’s not just a kiss. It’s Mya. She’s the one causing this reaction in me. She’s the only one who ever has. I don’t know what that says about me or about this relationship, but I think I’d like to find out.

When I wake up the next morning, Mya isn’t lying beside me in my bed. I know she’d been there when I’d gone to sleep because she’d fallen asleep on my chest. After one last round of sex, we’d lain in my bed talking until Mya had drifted off to sleep. I’d watched her sleep for a bit until I’d followed not long after. But now it’s morning and she’s not here.

Part of me is worried she woke up with a change of heart. Maybe in the light of day, she regrets what happened last night. I know it’s a silly fear, but I can’t help thinking of her list. Rule number two. I know what she said last night, but I also know how adamant she’s been about the baby being the most important thing in this situation. I completely agree with her on that front. I just also think her happiness and mine shouldn’t be discounted. And last night had made me incredibly happy. Unless I’m way off the mark, it had made Mya happy as well. I just hope she hasn’t changed her mind.

I throw on a pair of gym shorts and brush my teeth before I go looking for her. I go to her bedroom first, but the door is wide open and she’s not in there. In the baby’s room, I see the nearly assembled crib that we’d abandoned the night before. But no sign of Mya. I turn to go downstairs. I’m halfway down the stairs when I hear singing. I pause on the stairs, trying to make out the words. I’ve never heard Mya sing, but I recognize her voice. The song is vaguely familiar, but I can’t quite place it. I move slower, trying to be silent as I follow the sound toward the kitchen.

The singing grows louder as I near the kitchen and I can tell Mya is never going to win a Grammy. My lips twitch into a smile as I finally recognize the Pat Benatar song. I stop in the entryway to the kitchen to watch as Mya dances at the stove. Her back is to me as she flips something in a pan, her hips moving in time with the song. Now that I’m here, I can hear the low music coming from her phone on the counter. She’s singing along, keeping time with the lyrics if not the key. I lean against the wall to watch, crossing my arms over my chest. I smile wider when I notice that she’s still wearing my t-shirt. It just skims the tops of her thighs. I like the sight of her in my clothes. I can just see the hem of those cotton shorts peeking out from underneath when she shakes her ass to the music. It shouldn’t be a sexy outfit, but damn. I can feel my body stirring to life, despite the number of orgasms I had last night.

When the song builds into the chorus, Mya stops her actions at the stove to focus entirely on her performance, using a spatula as a makeshift microphone. My smile stretches wide across my face as she belts out the words with feeling. She can’t carry a tune in a bucket, but I’ll gladly stand here all day if she wants to keep singing. When the chorus ends, Mya switches to quietly humming along to the music as she cooks, still swinging her hips. I watch her for a bit, waiting to see if she’ll start singing again. When she doesn’t, I walk closer.

“Do you take requests?”

Mya jumps and lets out a startled squeak. I try to hide my laughter, but I’m not completely successful because she shoots me a glare and swats at me with the spatula when I walk closer. I duck out of the way, still smiling.

“Don’t sneak up on me!” Mya says through gritted teeth. “You scared the shit out of me.”

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