Page 252 of By His Vow

“I promised to show you how much better I am than a dream, and you passed out.”

His words are teasing, and the deep rasp of his voice only makes the feeling of him down there even better.

“Undo the buttons on my shirt, baby. Let me see those tits.”

Without instruction from my brain, my hands move and I pop each button open until I’m able to pull the fabric apart and give him what he craves.

“Fuck, yes. Play with them. Show me how you like it.”

My head swims with his orders, the lingering haziness of sleep still holding me in its clutches, but that doesn’t matter for my body—it follows orders easily.

His eyes widen, his normally electric green turning almost black as he watches me pull at my nipples, putting on a show as he gently grazes my clit with his teeth.

“I’m not letting you out of this bed until you’ve come over my face, around my fingers, and finally on my cock.”

My chin drops at his words as I palm my breasts harder.

Perfect start to a Saturday morning.

He sucks me hard and my back arches off the bed, pleasure racing through me, making all my nerve endings spark with what’s to come.

Kingston might be a lot of things, but he is a fucking god in bed.

No, not a god. A fucking king.

“Yes,” I cry as he works me with the perfect pressure and speed.

His grip on my thighs tightens until I know that I’ll be rocking bruises in the shape of his fingerprints for a good few days.

I want to hate the idea of being branded by him, of being forced to remember him when I look at myself. But I don’t.

I’m already wearing his ring; I may as well wear his bruises.

In only minutes, he works me to my first release of the morning.

He sits up with his face glistening with my juices and a shit-eating grin tugging at his lips.

“Count,” he demands, his eyes dropping to my tits before moving down to my pussy and then back up to my eyes.

“One,” I whisper, barely able to form words as I continue to ride out the aftereffects of my release.

“Good girl,” he praises as he plunges two fingers deep inside me, curling them just so before he embarks on number two.

“Fuck. Kingston,” I cry when he rubs at my G-spot. Abandoning my breasts, my fingers twist up the sheets beneath me as he pushes me to a fast and intense release.

Anyone would think he’s feeling a little impatient to get inside me.

“Eyes, Tatum. Look at me while I make you come.”

Like the good girl that I certainly am not, my eyes spring open and find him.

“I need you to know who’s doing this to you, baby.”

“I’m unlikely to forget,” I sass.

He smirks.

“I guess that’s what happens when I’m that much better than all the men of your past.”