Page 85 of Kneel with the King
My entire body goes taut as he pounds back into me, and each brush against that magic button has me closer and closer to my climax.
“King, I’m?—”
He places a hand over my mouth, and when my eyes meet his, something snaps inside of me just as he drives into me again. My eyes roll back again, my legs begin to quake, and the tension inside of me waiting for a release explodes like a bomb.
I see white as my cock bows, as my balls pull up, as my toes curl. King grunts on top of me and the next time he pushes into me, I come apart completely. It’s unlike any orgasm I’ve ever had. I feel the pleasure in every part of me, lighting up inside of me and spreading to my limbs. It feels like I’ve been shocked by electricity, and I already know I want to do this again and again and again.
My cum shoots across my chest in thick spurts, and my ragged breathing becomes uneven as King groans. Warmth fills me, and I can tell by the way his hips stutter that he’s coming, too.
Arching my back, I continue coming, pulse after pulse, coating myself, and it feels never-ending. The pleasure continues, lingering with every micro-movement, every twitch of King’s hips, every curve of his cock against my internal walls.
When we both come down from it, moments apart, we’re panting and shuddering. Our foreheads press together, and neither of us speaks. There’s a sticky mess between us, and when King pulls away a few seconds later, I look down.
There looks to be an entire cup of cum on me. He pulls out, and as we lie next to each other, neither of us says anything.
“Okay?” he asks.
All I can do is nod.
As my heart rate slows, and as King gets off the bed to clean us up, all I can think is how utterly we both just lost whatever war was waged between us.
King at Rest
King
The knockat the door came and went. I probably could’ve answered. Instead, I stayed where I was, watching the shadow of Asher’s lashes against his cheeks as he breathed deeply in his sleep. Somewhere nearby, people on the sleigh ride were probably laughing their way across the snow-covered tundra. But it’s clear we aren’t going—there’s no way I want to wake Asher.
That thought catches in my mind, and I examine it from all sides.
I’m just warm,I think. Cuddled up in bed with him, clothes halfway off.
My knee still hurts.
He’s tired and deserves to rest.
It’s going to be really fucking cold.
Excuses… all excuses for why I should stay cuddled up in bed with Asher fucking Harrison.
I bet Walter and Jacques will gossip about how we skipped the sleigh ride. I can cite my knee, I suppose. But that doesn’t negate the fact that I just don’t want to get up for anything. We’ve been lying here too long for it to be casual. His foot restingagainst my ankle. My arm still under his head. My eyes feel heavy, and I can’t remember the last time I felt this comfortable.
There’s a fragile stillness in the room, and I’m afraid moving will break it.
And I don’t think I’m ready for that.
Asher stirs, stretching his long body so that his feet hang off the end of the bed, like mine. These kinds of resorts aren’t built for tall people like us.
He speaks so quietly that I think I imagine it at first.
“I’ve never told anyone I’m bisexual.”
I turn my head to face him. His eyes are fixed on the ceiling, like if he looked at me, he might take it back.
“You just did,” I said.
“Yeah. Guess I did.” His voice wavers.
“Okay,” I reply.
