Page 133 of Dangerous King
My fingers clutch at his jacket, curling into the fabric over his arms to feel the muscle beneath. I let him take whatever he needs, whatever he wants, because I want it too. I want him to consume me.
"You shouldn't sneak up on me," I gasp between kisses.
"You shouldn't look that good when I'm already half out of my mind," he growls, his voice ragged, his mouth tracing down the line of my jaw to my neck. "God, I've been wanting to do this all night. You look so hot in that dress, and all I can think of is ripping it off you."
Again, his lips descend, he groans into my mouth, and makes me so hot, I feel my panties soak. Unrelentingly, his tongue takes my mouth hostage, and I surrender. A soft moan escapes me as I cling to him like I'm drowning.
"Cat," he mumbles, breaking the kiss. His hot breath is on my face, my heart is beating erratically, and my entire body burns with an alien heat. I need him. My body needs him.
The memory of his thick cock buried deep inside me rears up, spreading an ache through me that goes so deep I know only he can fill it. It's reckless and wicked, but I know what I need.
"We need to stop," he rasps.
"Don't stop," I reply, rising on my tiptoes. My body is so coiled with need, I throw every caution I've ever learned to the wind. "Please don't stop."
"You don't know what you're saying," he replies breathlessly. His hands move over my body, cup my ass, and grab my hips.
"I do. I know what I'm saying," I pant, reaching for the bulge in his pants, spanning my hand as far as it can reach over it, rubbing it. He's so hard, and my pussy is dripping, and the ache is only growing.
"I just needed to kiss you…" His hands move over my flank, his thumbs rubbing against the swell of my breasts, and I moan. "Fuck. Cat. I don't think I can stop." His breathing is labored.
"Then don't," I respond recklessly. I don't want him to stop, even though I know we should. We are in someone else's house. There is a party going on just a corridor down. I have no idea how this will work. From the looks of it, we're in some kind of cleaning storage room, the size of a coat closet. And there is no bed.
"We don't have long," he murmurs into my ear. "But I need to mark you, Cat. Need to remind you who you belong to."
His lips are at my throat, biting into the tender flesh teasingly, sending shivers of want down my spine.
"I shouldn't take you here. This is not the place," he tries to talk himself out of what we both know is going to happen; we're both too far gone to stop now.
"Any place is the right place for you and me," I tell him.
That seems to be enough. With a growl, he puts his hands on my hips and spins me around. I feel him hard against me, pressing through layers of satin and lace.
"Yes," I whisper, instinctively knowing that he'll stop if he feels the slightest bit of hesitation or doubt from me. With a low curse, he puts his hand on my back; my body follows his lead and bends over my hips. He grabs my arms and brings them up against the wall. I brace myself against it. Only then does he let go of my wrists, and his hand slides back down and up, bunching the skirt of my gown, baring my thighs. The cool air kisses my skin just before his warm palm replaces it, slow, possessive. He moans at the sight of my thong. His hands are on my bare ass, and I shiver at the promise they deliver. His fingers curl around my panties and tug them down with one hand. They fall to my ankles. My breath catches.
"Spread your legs." He orders hoarsely by my ear. Fuck, I'm so wet, my juices drip down my thigh. Commanding Enrico is even hotter than the other versions of him.
I obey.
His hand dips between my thighs, stroking once, then twice, until my knees threaten to give out. My head falls down, my updo comes loose, but I don't care; all I care about is the electricity flooding me at his touch.
"You're soaking," he groans.
"For you," I pant, and another growl escapes him.
"Shit, this is not how this is supposed to be," he curses again. "But I fucking need to be inside you."
"I'm rea—dhyy," I squeal because just then his fingers find my clit, and I swear, I'm about to explode like a live grenade.
I hear him unzip behind me, feel the heat of his skin as he leans over me.
"This," he rasps, guiding himself to my entrance, "is not going to be gentle."
"Good," I breathe, heart racing. "I don't want gentle."
And then he pushes in. One long, brutal thrust that punches the air from my lungs and fills me with him, completely, irrevocably. I arch, gasp, and press my palms against the wall ahead of me. "Oh my God?—"
His hand wraps around my throat, not choking, just holding me steady as he drives into me again. Deep. Demanding. Possessive in the way only he can be.
