King (Sydney Storm MC 7)

I’d never felt this in my life.

Ever.

And maybe that was some of the problem. Maybe I was out of my depth with knowing how to navigate the love and passion I had for him.

“How long have you been sitting in this tub thinking?”

The sound of King’s voice startled me. I’d been so lost in thought I didn’t hear him come home. I looked up, watching as he came and sat on the edge of the bath. Exhaustion lined his face.

One of the things that struck me about King was how he read people so well. In the grand scheme of life, we’d known each other for a blip of time, and yet he knew me better than anyone. He connected dots fast, and when we’d started seeing each other, he’d quickly connected my bath time with me sometimes losing my mind to the confusion that too much thinking could create. He knew that if I’d been in the bath too long, I could be a handful afterwards.

Needing contact, I placed my hand on his. “Long enough to have decided I’m out of my depth with us.”

He studied me for a long moment. Contemplative. “Why?”

This was the King I needed right now. His earlier mood had shifted, giving me the man who listened and reflected on what I said. “I love you too much. I’m not sure I can see things rationally when it comes to you and how we are together. You push buttons I didn’t even know I have, and I’m confused about my reactions to some things that happen between us.” I sat forward, coming closer to him. “The only thing I know for sure is that I can’t get enough of you, and while that’s exactly how I want to feel about the man I love, I need to have boundaries surrounding my love. I’ve already had one failed marriage with no boundaries. I don’t want a second.” It hurt my heart to even consider our relationship failing, but I had to be realistic and smart this time around.

His chest rose and fell as he took a long breath, thinking about what I’d said. I knew his tells as well as I knew my own. “Boundaries aren’t something I’m good at, Lily.”

I searched his eyes, finding honesty blaring from them. King had told me he wasn’t good at relationships; I believed the opposite. I believed he’d just had to find the right person. That was true for everyone. With the wrong person, we didn’t flourish. We descended into a hell of bad arguments that had no hope of going anywhere. We suffered from doubt, indecision, and days of feeling less worthy than we were. With the right person, we grew and thrived. We felt supported and encouraged to be all we could be. Arguments led to better places, doubt was short-lived, and while our days could be hard, love took the edge off.

I knew what it felt like to be with the wrong person.

And now I knew what it felt like to be with the right one.

King was all kinds of right for me.

And as much as he thought he wasn’t good at boundaries, I knew he was a man who could do anything he put his mind to.

“Neither of us are,” I said. “Yet.”

He took that in and sat with it for a moment. Finally, he leaned forward and cupped the back of my neck, pulling my mouth to his. Our kiss was slow to begin with, but just like always, it quickly turned urgent and frantic.

King pulled me out of the bath and carried me into our bedroom. Dropping me on the bed, he lifted his shirt over his head and stripped out of his jeans. He was naked underneath; King wasn’t big on underwear. He particularly wasn’t big on me wearing underwear, but because I had a preference for wearing it, he’d filled my drawers with his preferences. That mostly consisted of scraps of material that covered very little, but he made sure to get anything with bows on it that he could find. He told me the bows were for me, but I knew he’d taken a liking to them since meeting me.

“Stop thinking, Lily,” he ordered, taking hold of his dick, “And get on your knees.” The pulse of darkness in his tone thrummed in my veins.

I loved King’s crudeness in the bedroom.

His filthy desires.

He’d awakened my filthy desires.

I did as he said, keeping my eyes locked with his while I knelt. The approval I saw there hit my core and I slid his cock into my mouth on a moan.

Placing his palm to my head, he held me in place while I sucked his dick. I didn’t need any encouragement; this was one of my favourite things to do. I’d gotten my gag reflex under control since meeting King and embraced the hell out of his love for deep throating.

Placing my arms around him, I took hold of his ass and pressed him to my face while sucking and licking exactly how he liked it. The sharp dig of my fingernails into his skin caused him to hiss and tighten his hold on my head. Knowing my nails fuelled his hunger, I increased the pressure while sucking him as far back as I could. When he hit my throat, he growled so gutturally that it caused me to moan again.

“Fuck,” he rasped as the vibration of my moan hit him.

Needing a better position, I pulled away and turned around so my back was to him. I sat with my knees up, feet backed against my ass, hands flat to the floor behind me, and leaned my head right back. King stood over me, and I guided his cock into my mouth, taking him in deep. He fucked my mouth, allowing me to take control of the speed and depth, and allowing me to swap his cock for his balls every now and then.

I could deep throat him daily; I loved it that much. Especially because I knew how much he loved it. The exchange of power thrilled me, because while King could take over and force control of my mouth, he never did. This was one part of our sex life where he handed all that control to me.

Just when we’d found a good rhythm, he pulled out and headed in the direction of our wardrobe. He searched in the area where we kept our sex toys, grabbed what he wanted, and came back to me, jerking his chin at the bed. I did as he directed and spread my legs wide for him because I knew what he had planned by what he held in his hands. King could be one of the most unpredictable men I knew, but there were some things I could predict.

This was one of them.