Page 38 of Hostile King

All of him.

He’d been the very first male to introduce me to orgasms, to make me come without inhibitions. It would normally build within a few hot minutes. Until now. I buckle as he takes charge of me. His fascinated eyes matching my lust.

“Tomás,” I breathe his name, past the point of caring for my moral code. “She could barge in here at any minute.”

“The door is guarded. If anyone tries to enter, Costa will shoot them.”

“Even her?”

“Even her.” He repeats, his hoarse voice thick with sex. “She can’t get in, and you can’t get out. You know how this goes, Cari. You’re the only one who understands. You give me what no one else ever could.” His baritone slips through the layers of rabid lust we’re both drowning in. “Sonotfucking you isn’t an option.”

And then, before either of us considers the weight of our indiscretion, our willpower to resist disintegrates all over again. I shamelessly hit the end of my limit and surrender myself to the hurricane of mixed emotions, all of them focused on him.

He devours me like he wants to rip me apart, to consume me—to kill me.

We don’t unite with caution or sweet affirmations of love, just forceful strokes of his tongue, groping firm hands, and ownership of my every breath. And in the moment, having found my place beside Tomás again, I let him conquer the battle I’d tried so hard to win.

Taking a second to part, he watches the hem of my dress glide to my toes. My breasts heave with every air hungry breath. Biting his lower lip, eyes now trained to the silk around my neck, he unfastens his belt. The buckle jangles against his thigh as he unzips his suit pants and frees his cock with speed.

The tip oozes pre-cum signifying his readiness to fuck and the glossy shaft bulges with angry looking veins. I can’t keep my eyes off it.

He clearly doesn’t have the patience to push his boxer briefs to his ankles, because his hands are on me again, wrestling with the length of my dress until it’s gathered at my waist.

It feels so good to be in his masculine arms and huddled against his protective height. Victim to his manliness.

My forehead drops to his chest, savoring the delicious musk of his salty scent. “You’re killing me, Tomás.” I clutch his biceps. “I can’t stand by and watch you marry someone else.”

He makes a pained noise, the rumble tangled with torment. “I’ve never had the desire for a wife. All this talk of weddings and new family makes me sick to the pit of my stomach. Loving a woman isn’t something I know how to do—or consider it possible. But hear me when I tell you this, Bianca is of no consequence to me. You, however…you’re different. You’re the woman I’d go to war for.”

My heart stops, shocked he wants me so desperately.

Grabbing my leg, he raises it high and angles himself to my entrance. We’re face to face, a breath apart, his ebony eyes bloodthirsty and his grunts starved.

“No one else will ever fill your sweet little cunt full of cum. Not while there’s still air in my lungs and blood in my veins. That’s my vow to you.”

And then he thrusts in deep, giving me no room to wrestle or argue. My wet insides quiver from the stimulus of his dirty words and feral invasion. I’m beyond ready for his fated abuse, to be used as his personal vessel of agonizing pleasure. Blustery shivers run out-of-control when his hand collects mine.

Palm to palm, our fingers link. His blood emulsifies mine. A white-hot chain loops the cracks of this furious reunion together.

I let the crest of passion drown me, inhaling him into my lungs, caressing his silky muscles, and feeling him move inside me. A small part of me quells tears, while the other part voluntarily surrenders.

His throaty roar of satisfaction tingles in wicked waves. Ruthless fingertips dig into my hips as he takes me harder. Together, we reach a united plane, joined together by sex and blood. The hardness of his cock punishes me without remorse and stretches me wide.

My spine grinds into the wall behind me where shards sporadically dive to the tiles like icicles. If it weren’t for the lace clinging to my shoulders, my flesh would be torn.

“Holy…shit.” I breathe into his mouth, completely consumed by his possessive control over me.

He both hurts and pleasures me, but most of all, the boundary between his soul and mine blurs from existence. With each forceful thrust, he tunnels in further, inscribing his delicious torture within me.

“You always know what I need…your body is my therapy, Cari.” He confesses with a breathless grunt.

Coaxing me higher and higher, he snarls with the furious movement of feeding every hard inch of his cock in deeper. I gasp, on the precipice of an orgasmic release. My body sizzles from his harsh punishment, forgetting we’re in Mexico, in an unknown territory where his reign has threats.

“Fuck, I missed this,” he mutters into the side of my face, rutting in faster. “And that’s a big problem.” I’m barely balanced on one heel when he heaves me upwards. Both legs now clamp his hips, incapable of doing anything else other than gluing myself to him. “Come for me while I’m buried so far inside of you that the tip of my dick can feel your heart beating.” Hungry teeth sink into my neck, the choker slipping away.

“Come for me, Cari. Set me free,” he hisses.

My core catches fire, the sparks flitting between us in the form of disastrous embers, clouding the washroom with a white light that I’ve never seen before.

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