Page 45 of Teasing a King

I shake my head. “Do we need another lesson on how beautiful you are?”

Her eyes shift and I know she’s thinking of the mirror. She pulls in a shuddering breath as I step closer. She shakes her head. “I don’t think I’ll forget that lesson anytime soon,” she says in a teasing tone.

She tips her head up and I bend down to kiss her. Her tongue flicks out and teases my lips. My lips part and her tongue swirls against mine as she grips the front of my shirt to pull me closer. A small sound escapes her when I deepen the kiss, my fingers firm but gentle on the back of her neck, holding her still for my onslaught. When I finally lift my head, Mya’s eyes are dazed and full of heat. I smile down at her, pleased that my kiss had such an effect on her.

“I’m glad you’re home,” she says. Her gaze slides down to the front of my pants which is only a few inches from her face. She raises a brow. “In fact,” she says, planting both hands on my thighs and sliding them upward. “Let me show you how happy I am to see you.”

My cock turns to stone at the sexy look in her eyes. She looks up to meet my gaze as she pops the button on my pants free, then slides the zipper down. Mya licks her lips before tugging my pants down. My boxers go with them, pooling around my ankles. Mya looks up at me and smiles as she lightly grips my cock, stroking its length. My breath hisses out as I watch her lower her head and take me into her mouth.

Mya’s tongue swirls around the head of my cock, pulling a groan from me. Lightly gripping the base, she takes me deeper with each dip of her head. My breath comes in pants, and I can’t resist touching her. I reach out and bury my fingers in her hair, pulling it loose from the bun as I lightly grip it. She hums her approval, and I can feel the vibrations along my shaft.

“God, Mya,” I rasp, trying to keep it together. “You feel so fucking good.”

She moves faster, increasing the suction of her mouth on my cock. Her tongue flicks over the sensitive underside as she pulls back until just the tip is in her mouth only to take me deep into her mouth. I’m lost in a haze of sensation, feeling myself edging closer to release. I grip her hair a little tighter and say her name. It’s a warning. But Mya doesn’t stop. Her eyes turn upward, and she meets my gaze as she takes my entire length in her mouth. I feel the moment she relaxes her throat and takes me down, looking up at me all the while.

Every nerve ending in my body comes alive and I shout as my release finds me. Mya keeps her mouth on me, swallowing every drop I give her. My legs feel weak as Mya gives me one last lick before sitting back in her chair and grinning at me.

“Holy fuck,” I gasp. “You’re incredible.”

She stands and kisses my cheek. “You looked like you needed to blow off some steam.”

“Pun intended?” I ask, bending down to pull up my pants.

Mya shrugs. “Not really, but it works.” She takes my hand. “Now, take me to bed.”

I follow her without hesitation. “Yes, ma’am.”

Later, after I’ve made Mya come twice and we’re lying sated in what I’ve come to think of as our bed, I run my fingers through her hair.

“How’s work coming along?” I ask.

She snuggles closer to my side. “Good. I was able to get a lot done tonight.”

“I’m glad,” I say. “I worried that you wouldn’t be able to write here. Like maybe being in a new place would kill your mojo or something.”

She shakes her head. “Nope,” she says. “I’ve never really had that issue. I either have the ideas or I don’t. It never matters where I am. I got used to moving around a lot when I was a kid.”

As she says the words, her entire body tenses as though she hadn’t meant to say it. It strikes me that I really don’t know much about Mya’s childhood. She never talks about it. Any time I’ve tried to ask about it, she directs the question back to me or turns the discussion toward the baby. I want to know why. I want to know everything about her. But I don’t want to push her. I don’t want her to turn away from me before we’ve had a chance to figure out what this is. So, I change the subject.

“I have a confession to make,” I say. Mya’s still tense beside me.

“What’s that?” she asks. I can hear the nerves in her voice as she waits for me to tell her.

“I’ve known who you were since before Hope came to Oak Hill,” I say, smiling in the dark.

Mya leans up and looks down at me. I can’t see her face, but I can imagine her eyes narrowed in suspicion. I grin up at her.

“I subscribed to your blog 5 years ago,” I say.

“What?” Mya sputters.

I shake my head, feeling embarrassed. “I came across one of your blog posts by accident when I was looking for ideas for the restaurant. It wasn’t long after Wyatt and I had bought the building and we were in the process of gutting it. It was a post you wrote about a trip to Costa Rica.”

“That was such a long time ago,” Mya says. “One of the first travel pieces I wrote. Hope and I took that trip after college. We were so broke, but we had the best time. I came back and wrote a piece about vacationing on a budget. I can’t believe you read that. Not many people did.”

I nod. “Well, I did. And I loved it. I signed up for notifications for each post. I felt like I was there with you every time I read about a trip you took or some exotic food you tasted. You’ve got a gift.”

“For adjectives, you mean,” she scoffs.

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