Page 18 of The King's Pawn

“Condom?” he asked.

“I haven’t fucked anyone in five years.”

“You… What?—”

He tried to turn his head, but I gripped his neck, spread his ass with my free hand, and pushed my dick in, stretching his tight hole. Noah King finally stopped talking. But it didn’t last, and I didn’t want it to, not when the sweet, short gasps were all I needed to hear to push deeper inside.

“Goddamn, I never thought I’d get your dick.”

Bending over him, I kissed the back of his neck. “You wanted it since that day at the gym.”

“You knew?”

I straightened, grabbed his ass, and plunged deeper—so deep, Noah choked. I’d wondered about his long, lingering glances since that that day, wondered how he’d feel clenching my dick, until I made myself stop dreaming.

“I see your smile in the window, Killer,” he growled.

I looked up, and there we were, reflected in the window, him and me, bent over the kitchen sink, stripped of our lives, down to the bone, naked and fucking glorious. I rammed my dick home. Noah gasped, arched, and thrust back, hungry for more. Our eyes met in the glass and stayed fixed on each other as I fell into an easy, sweet rhythm. Noah’s gaze grew heavy, his mouth open, body alive under me. His soft, pining moans sharpened into lusty gasps.

Shifting him back against me, I reached around his hip and grasped his dick, picking up right where I’d left off, jerking himfast. He panted and rocked, his ass riding my cock as he fucked my fist, quickening until he lost himself in the race to finish.

His moans peaked, body stuttering. “Oh God!” He threw his head back and came over my fingers. I might have lost my mind in the next few thrusts, but I needed to get deeper, needed to be inside him, like I’d said, to brand myself on his soul. I grasped his hips, tilted his ass up, and fucked himdown, making him gasp and pant all over again. I was coming undone, falling into the electric dark, falling for him, and as the blinding pleasure snapped, I spilled with a guttural shout, forgetting who and what I was, just knowing the man under me waseverything.

I came back to myself, with Noah watching me in our reflection, his eyebrow raised. “We’re both fucked,” he said, adding his cocky smile.

We were both something, but what, I hadn’t yet figured out.

CHAPTER

EIGHT

Noah

I lay in the bed and watched Killian pull his pants on, then sit on the edge of the bed and shrug on his shirt, covering a body I’d tried to devour in all ways. I didn’t pretend to know what this was, if it was anything, but he’d said a lot of things last night, said things that had made my heart swell, made me think I wasn’t alone, made me hope there might be something more than living for today because tomorrow might never come.

“I’ll be back tonight.” His voice was thick from lack of sleep and from taking my cock between his lips. His hair, usually styled smooth, was a ragged mess, and his face had gained this weird thing called a smile. I hadn’t known he was capable of that, but there it was.

“Hey?”

He looked over his shoulder, and I reached for him but let my hand drop, not sure if we were there yet. Not sure what we were.

“Be careful,” I said. I’d never worried about him before. Never cared where he was or what he was doing. He was just there, always saving me.

He touched my hand. I raised my fingers, and his brushed mine. Not really hand-holding, but a soft, tentative promise of what could be.

“It’s just a question,” he grumbled, standing.

But he didn’t ask my father questions. That wasn’t how it worked.

I stretched under the covers and watched his gaze spill down my exposed parts, then pour over my bare leg, my hip, my chest, in all the places where his tongue had explored thoroughly a few hours ago.

It was a damn shame Killian hadn’t had anyone in five years, because he was fucking dynamite once his fuse was lit. The love he’d lost had torn out his heart. I saw that now—saw him. And I was fucking scared as he headed for the bedroom door; scared he might not return, scared we’d never get to explore this crazy thing we’d discovered between us.

But the snow had stopped, andthat lifewas pulling him back.

This cabin, this bed, all the things we’d done—it was already melting away.

“Stay here,” he said, opening the door. He hesitated, and I told myself if he looked back, then it was real. He’dsaidit was real, said I was his.