Lost Cause (Killer of Kings 8)

She yearned for his touch, his affection, anything he offered her.

Priest kissed her. Actually kissed her. It was the first time she’d been remotely intimate with a man. His lips were firm, and he kissed her slowly, impossibly slowly, as if trying to memorize her every detail. It was sensual and safe and delicious. She reached out, her hand landing on his very bare shoulder. His skin was warm and hard with muscle. Every nerve in her body was coming alive in the wickedest way, all the energy seeming to settle deep between her legs.

She was in bed with her kidnapper. A broken man she was ready to give herself to in exchange for a slim chance at love. She didn’t want her heart broken, but that was all she knew. What harm would it be to give this craziness a chance? She’d spent a long time with him already and never wanted to the ride to end.

“I’m a virgin,” she whispered against his lips. Part of her felt it would be a deal-breaker. They were literally in a whore house, and Priest had to be very experienced.

“I know,” he said.

Had she told him before? Right now, she could barely remember her own name. She was ready to give her virginity to Priest and hope he didn’t walk away after.

He took a deep breath, hoisting himself up. He braced an arm at either side of her, holding up his weight. She reached up and ran her hands over his biceps, waiting, hoping.

“Boss said you’re my problem now,” he said. “Only he doesn’t realize just how important you are to me.”

“I am?”

He groaned, a sexual sound. Priest dipped his head and nuzzled her neck. He smelled so good, a rich masculine scent. She tilted to give him better access. “I’ve never wanted anyone. Not since I closed off my heart. I want you, Cleo. I want to claim you, own you, make you mine. Even if Boss didn’t give the order, I’d have taken you with me.”

Holy shit!

Those words were like crack to her. She needed everything he offered, more than breath, and she’d never realized how alone she’d been all her life until right now.

His strong thigh parted her legs, his hips settling over hers. She felt the hard ridge of his cock pressing against her very sensitive core. She stifled a gasp but let out a needy puff of breath instead. He paused. In the too-quiet room, she may have well screamed instead.

“I’m going to marry you,” he said.

She tried to fight through the erotic fog clouding her thoughts. “We’ll talk about that later.”

“Right.” He began to pepper kisses down her neck, then trailed his tongue along the shell of her ear. This time she couldn’t hold back, wiggling beneath him and moaning as he toyed with her erogenous zone.

She loved the feel of his back as she ran her hands all over his body. When he reached between them and undid his pants, her nerves picked up. This was all a new experience, but no way did she want to stop now. Cleo was already in her bra and panties, and now Priest was naked over her. She was glad for the darkness as she wouldn’t feel confident with the lights highlighting all her rolls and stretch marks. She always kept covered up or people she knew would comment about how it wasn’t possible to have so many stretch marks when she had no children. Better to avoid the rudeness.

He ran his fingers along the seam of her panties, so close to where she needed him. She held her breath. When he slipped under the fabric and reached down to cup her pussy, she arched up on instinct and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

“Priest…”

He groaned, a deep masculine sound. “You’re nice and wet. So fucking sensitive. You’re going to feel like heaven wrapped around my cock.”

She never expected him to talk dirty to her. Never expected to be sharing a bed with him period. The rough timber of his voice, his probing hand, and filthy tongue—she was afire with need. She wanted him buried deep inside her, taking away the desperate ache.

Priest stroked her pussy, paying special attention to her clit.

She dug her nails into his shoulders.

“Do you like that?” he asked.

She let out a sequence of faint pants. “Yes. More.”

“I like the sound of you begging.” He used a knuckle against her entrance but refused to use his fingers. It was torture, exquisite torture.

“Please.”

“Ah, such a good girl, asking so nicely.”

He wiggled her panties down her thighs until they were gone. She felt so exposed, even in the darkness. When he returned to her, he immediately unfastened her bra, her huge tits spilling out to the sides.

Priest cupped her breasts with both hands, rubbing his face and that rough stubble against her cleavage. He growled like an animal, and she thought she’d spontaneously orgasm. After settling between her legs again, his thick bare length against her moist pussy, he suckled her tit into his mouth. He tongued her nipples, engorging himself, giving each breast equal attention.