Page 80 of Brazen King

I rock relentlessly inside her, driving through her first orgasm as I demand another from her. And she cries out, thesound rushing into my mouth as I keep our lips locked in a passionate kiss.

Then fresh waves of a second release come throbbing along my length.

“Fuck,” I groan, my erection so stiff and swollen it almost hurts to keep pounding her. But she feels so damn good, I can’t stop.

And the sounds of pleasure issuing from her—soft, mewling whimpers—are driving me absolutely insane with molten desire. Natasha shudders, her hips jerking forward as her orgasm consumes her body, and as she takes me all the way inside her until I’m buried to the hilt, I find my own sinfully satisfying release.

Burst after burst of hot cum floods her channel, making her slick enough the friction blows my mind. And I groan as my throbbing release continues until I’ve emptied my balls deep inside her.

Lungs burning for oxygen, I finally break our kiss. Natasha and I pant together, sharing the air between us as I rest my forehead against hers. And the intimacy of having her in my arms, her pussy still rippling with aftershocks, urging my seed further inside her…it’s nothing short of heaven on earth.

I want to do this with her every day for the rest of my life—preferably as often as humanly possible. And my chest swells with such intense love for the captivating woman in my arms that I can’t be patient any longer. I can’t wait for her to face her feelings, to have that lightning-strike moment where she realizes what we are to each other.

I need her to be mine. Now and forever.

“Marry me,” I murmur, and I pull back to look deep into Natasha’s mesmerizing silver eyes.

“What?” Her question comes out breathy as she continues to drag in deep lungfuls of air, and her eyes are dilated witheuphoria. But I can see the flicker of conflict cross her face as my proposal catches her off guard.

My heart squeezes, the first trickle of anxiety returning to me veins. “Marry me, Natasha,” I insist, cradling her cheek with my palm.

And as I release her thigh to cup her beautiful face, she slowly lowers her leg until my cock slides out of her. Her expression shutters as she drops her gaze, and the intimacy of the moment vanishes—doused as if by a bucket of cold water.

She shakes her head, and it twists like a knife in my gut.

“I can’t,” she murmurs. “It would never work—our families are enemies, Killian. Not to mention my father would never allow it. Hehatesyou. Believe me, I’ve tried to change his mind.”

My heart flip-flops at her confession—the first time she’s actually admitted to wanting something with me enough to fight for it. But that momentary excitement is quickly replaced by cold, hard reality as her words hit home. Her father won’t allow us to get married, so in her mind, the decision is final.

Fiery determination ignites in my chest as Natasha works her dress back down her hips and thighs, smoothing it to hide the evidence of our passionate indiscretion.

But I’m not ready to throw in the towel. “If you told your father how you really feel about me, he might be persuaded,” I insist, tucking my cock back into my pants and zipping them closed.

But Natasha shakes her head again, and this time, she meets my eyes with brutal conviction. “Wake up, Killian. My father’s convinced you’re after his territory and power, a belief you’ve done nothing to discourage. He won’t be swayed so easily after everything that’s happened—even if hedoescare about my feelings and wants me to be happy.”

Resignation written across her features, Natasha brushes past me.

But I loop my fingers around her wrist, capturing her and turning her to face me once more. “I don’t care how long it takes. I won’t stop,” I warn her. “Not until you agree to be mine.”

“That’s never going to happen,” she says fiercely. “Can’t you just leave me in peace?” she demands, a harsh edge entering her tone.

My hold flexes instinctively around her arm, not willing to let her go without a fight. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask

“It means I can’t see you anymore, Killian. I don’t want to. So just…let me go.”

The pain in Natasha’s voice cuts like a serrated knife, sawing through my euphoria from a moment before. And I freeze, my grip loosening momentarily in shock.

She takes advantage of the opportunity, pulling her arm from my grasp.

Then, setting her jaw in grim determination, she turns away from me.

And she stalks away from me, returning to the ball without a backward glance.

35

NATASHA

Icatch sight of Killian’s right-hand man out of the corner of my eye. But I don’t turn my head as my cheeks start to flame. As grateful as I am that he appears to be standing guard, a barrier to stop anyone from walking in on us, I hate the very real possibility that he heard what just took place.

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