Page 47 of The Dragon King

My eyes softened. “That was kind of you.”

“He had a family, and I didn’t care whether I lived or died.”

The softness faded as a wave of sorrow struck me. I could hear the pain in his voice, see the bottomless pit in his gaze.

“I’d been a fisherman for the previous year, so I was a good addition to their crew. I did what I was told and didn’t say more than a couple words for years. But then things started to change. Captain Blackstorm took a liking to me and made me his commander. We sailed the seas far and wide…and I think the ocean healed me in some ways.”

“Do you miss it?”

He considered my question for a long time. “I don’t miss who I was. I was more dead than alive. Just going through the motions day after day in the hope I would either die or the pain would stop. Captain Blackstorm told me I was the bravest man he ever knew, but I just had a death wish.” He kept his eyes on the wall. “But I do miss the simplicity. All we would do was sail andplunder. Over and over. Through the winds, the tides, and the storms. Celebrate our conquests with a big pint at the pub and laugh about all the times we almost died. Khazmuda says it was all a waste of time, just a distraction from what we needed to do, but I was still broken and in shock…and I needed that time to come alive again.”

I hoped he would share more about his life, but I wouldn’t pressure him into it when it might just push him away. “Thank you for sharing. I’m sure you were a very sexy pirate.” Whenever he came to port, the women would have been eager to get a piece of him. He probably had a gorgeous tan and muscles just as ripped as they were now.

He didn’t smile, like his mind was still in the dark.

“I’m surprised that you knew how to sail since you were meant to be a king.”

“My father said every man should know how to hunt and survive, regardless of his station in life. So, he taught me and Silas how to sail and wish and survive in the wild.”

“Silas?”

He hesitated, even his breath stopped. “My younger brother.”

I could feel his pain in those simple words, feel how hard it was for him to say it out loud. “I’m sorry…”

“It never gets easier,” he whispered. “You just get used to them being gone.”

“Yeah.”

“If my father hadn’t taught me those things, I’m not sure where I would be.”

“I’m glad that he did, because it brought you to me.”

He let those words hang in the air for a moment before he turned to look at me, his eyes hollow and lifeless…with a light far in the distance. When his sight locked on mine, it stayed there, looking at me with a new depth.

I felt the bumps on my arms, the heft in my heart, the desire between my legs. I never thought I would look upon a man with this much feeling in my soul. To feel a connection that transcended words. To have someone I would die for without having to think twice. My body had been battered and bruised and my heart had been beaten to death, but he healed me.

He leaned back onto the bed before he climbed up my body, moving over me until his face was just above mine where it rested against the headboard. With his signature intensity, he looked at me like I was his sun, his moon, and his stars. He dipped his head and brushed his nose against mine, giving me affection that was somehow as good as a kiss.

I felt the breath leave my lungs, felt my body burn and go numb at the same time. I felt my heart leave my chest and jump into his, where it wanted to stay forever.

He dipped his head and kissed me, a slow touch of our lips, a kiss that was so gentle it was like a leaf that fell onto the calm water of a lake. His eyes were open and still on me as he kissed me, watching my reaction to his touch and letting me see his in return.

He turned his head the other way and kissed me harder, giving me a kiss that nearly bruised my lips. Then there was his tongue, his breath, all of him. All while he held himself over me, his body tight and strong, veins popping out of the strong muscles.

His arm circled under my back, and he lifted me slightly, dragging me down until I was flat on the bed, my head on the pillow.

He moved over me and kissed me harder, his hand fisting my hair while he made me his with just his perfect mouth. He grabbed one of my legs and hiked it over his hip as he fit his body between my thighs, bringing our bodies close together despite the clothes that separated us.

My hands explored the body I already knew by heart, feeling the heat that burned from his skin, the hardness of the muscle that bulged underneath. My lips got lost with his in the passion, and I felt my body melt like snow from the top of the mountains, rushing downstream like a river.

When he reached for my panties, I automatically lifted my hips so he could pull them free because I was eager to feel him inside me, eager for him to feel just how ready I was to take him. I’d had him many times, but I somehow desired him more with every passing day. I pulled down his boxers so his big dick could come free.

His hips slid between my thighs, and I tilted my pelvis so he could fold me, so his dick could find my wet slit and slide inside. The second he reached my entrance, he moaned like he felt it, felt how gushing wet I was for him. “Baby…” He pushed inside and sank nice and slow, his eyes on me all the way down.

My fingers dug into his hair as I moaned for him, feeling him invade me like no other man who had passed through my gates. He erased the mark of a lesser man, made my invisible scars disappear from memory. My ankles hooked together at the top of his ass, and we moved slowly, locked together like we never wanted to break apart.

Chapter 9

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