The Forsaken King

My head turned—and I met those blue eyes for the first time.

The first time…like this.

The light from the fire blanketed his face in a handsome glow, giving shadows in the hollows of his cheeks, under the line of his jaw. His eyes were a little brighter, a little more intense as they looked at me.

There was a small amount of dark hair in the center of his chest, the same color as the shadow along his jawline and around his lips. This was the same man who’d followed me throughout the castle, but now that seemed like a whole different person.

He pivoted his body slightly toward me, his breeches and boots still on. Now the trail of hair at the bottom of his stomach was visible, leading to a significant bulge in his trousers. It was hard and defined, my mind filling out all the details I couldn’t see.

My eyes lifted to his again.

It was just like the last time I’d looked at him, but this time, I wasn’t embarrassed.

His deep voice had a baritone that glided right over my skin. “I’m good at this.”

“Me too.”

“Then show me.”

I was paralyzed once again because that confidence made me weak in the knees.

He drew close, his smell coming into my nose, the heat of his body right against my skin. He did this sexy thing where he stared at my lips as if he admired me the way I admired the first flowers of spring. He came closer and closer, preparing for the landing, and then changed his direction to my neck. He pushed his mouth right into the crook, his hot lips touching my cold skin.

My reaction to the contact was instinct, and my head tilted back slightly to allow him more room to kiss me. A deep breath ballooned my lungs. My fingers dug into the fabric of my breeches. My heart fluttered like this was my first time, with a mixture of desire and nerves.

His kisses were powerful, like bites from an animal. His palm flattened against my back, and he supported me as he kissed me, as he lavished my throat with masculine kisses, making his way down to the hollow of my throat.

My arm circled his shoulders, and I felt our bodies flush together, his hard chest against my breasts, the heat of his skin so hot it was like a branding iron into my flesh. The sense of comfort came an instant later, the first time I’d felt safe since I’d been taken from my castle, the first time the world stopped.

He moved to the other side of my neck, his strong arm keeping me pinned close against him, his warm breaths drifting down my skin in sexy pants. He gave me a gentle bite right on the collarbone before he pulled away, his face returning to mine.

But there was still no kiss.

With his eyes on mine, he moved his hand up my thigh, traveling closer and closer to the apex. He watched my reaction but also guided me with his, giving me his confidence, the desire in his eyes.

My heart pounded so hard that I couldn’t hear my own breaths.

His fingers slid between the very tops of my thighs and found the spot over my breeches, his thumb hitting it like he already knew where it was. He gave a gentle press, and then he started circular motions, applying just the right pressure to make my breath escape my lungs.

He could have kissed me. But he watched me instead, which was far more intimate. His stare used to be a tool of intimidation, but now it’d become my guiding star, drawing me through this, assuaging the uneasiness.

He rubbed me harder, faster.

My hands held on to his shoulders as my thighs parted slightly, giving him more room, feeling the wetness already soaking through my underwear and leaving a stain on the crotch of my pants. I breathed deeper. Harder. My nails started to make divots in his flesh, but he didn’t seem to mind.

My forehead pressed against his as I enjoyed it, as he brought me closer and closer to the edge, getting me thoroughly aroused before he tried to shove that big dick inside me. Now I was hot and bothered, only living in this moment, with this man and the fire beside us.

My lips moved for his, wanting to taste them on my flesh, to feel their fullness between mine. They came into contact with a gentle collision, like two clouds that morphed into one, and he hesitated slightly.

His eyes closed and he kept his mouth against mine, but he was still. Then he met my affection with hungry lips, taking control of the kiss, leading it like he did with everything else. He was good with his mouth like he was with his hands, every embrace purposeful, with just the right pressure, with the kind of passion that made me feel like he wanted this—even if these weren’t circumstances of our choosing.