Page 101 of Merciless Heir

Kingston strips the rest of his clothes off. “We’re not done, Sadie.”

“Good.”

He’s fucking me slow and it’s a revelation. I kiss him, undulating my hips to take him deeper into me and it’s like we’ve got all the time in the world.

“Fuck, Sadie, how does this keep getting better with you?”

I push him so we roll and I’m on top now, and I move in that slow, sweet, deep way we’ve been doing, but now I’m fucking him and it’s just as good and he’s so right. “I don’t know.”

My palms are flat on his hot chest. Everything about him is perfect. From his cock to his chest to his face. That doesn’t take into account the way he can kiss, or the way he thinks.

“You drive me crazy,” I say.

“That’s my line.” He flips us again so we’re on our sides and he has one of my legs pinned, giving him the control as he slides his hand along my other thigh, then lifting it and he looks down at where we’re joined, at my pussy clinging to his cock with each long, slow thrust.

I know he’s looking. I am, too.

And it’s fucking erotic.

It’s hot.

“I could fuck you forever,” he says, and kisses me.

I’m lost in him again and he keeps that slow drive into me until he’s got me teetering again and then he reaches between us, fingers on my clit and I jump and moan.

“Come, Sadie. Come for me.”

I can’t help it. I do. The pressure builds, and it’s too much and I start to shatter, but he keeps going, right through it. He keeps those long, slow thrusts as I dip back down and he keeps playing my clit. I try to stop him as I’m so sensitive, but he doesn’t.

“Kingston—”

“I’m not done. You’re not done. I want you to lose control of everything but me. I want you to forget everything but me and you and this.”

And he keeps going. He’s sweating, his muscles like iron. He’s keeping himself under control and I grind down on him as he moves again, so I’m riding him, and he whispers words at me. Taunts, demands, pleas.

And that thing inside that still breathes starts to unfurl and I push harder and harder and I come again. And again, but it’s still unfurling and I dig into him, my control nothing as all that exists is this feeling of pleasure that lurks at the edges, something so huge, something that’s mine, something new, and I start to come in deep, compelling waves and my entire body is one contraction of blinding pleasure so much I’m shouting, I’m crying, I’m whispering and he’s losing it, too. And his voice joins mine and we’re both gone.

Completely.

Together.

And when it’s over all I can think, as he kisses me in slow, half desperate and bone drugging kisses, is that I want more.

More.

Always more.

With him.

It’s almost four in the morning when I dress silently and leave. We’re at my place, not his, and ordinarily I wouldn’t leave a man there. Especially not Kingston.

But I don’t have anything he wants. And I need to do this now.

I stop a few doors from my place and breathe in the biting cold air.

I’d love to say we only had sex once and it was quick and boring, but that’s not what happened. I did something weird. Unforgivable. I spent the day and next night with Kingston. Even thinking about it sends shudders of heat and awareness through me.

Kingston.