Page 92 of Vicious Kingdom

And it was.

“Fill me up,” I whispered, kissing the side of his head. “Mark every inch of me.”

That did it.

Leo’s rhythm faltered, his control finally breaking.

A roar bellowed from him, muffled against my flesh and the pillow. His body went rigid, another guttural moan escaped him as he drove deep and stilled. He pulsed inside me, and I felt each throb, each hot spurt as he emptied himself. Our bodies shuddered in a sweet relief.

For several heartbeats, we remained locked together, trembling and gasping. His weight pressed me into the mattress, a delicious anchor keeping me from floating away. When he finally lifted his head, he stared down at me, and although I couldn’t see his shadowed face, I didn’t need to know it was scrawled with pure, unadulterated possession.

Because that was how I looked up at him.

He kept our bodies connected as if he couldn’t bear to separate just yet. Our breath mingled together, neither of us catching it as we panted.

“Say it again,” he growled.

My brows knit in confusion. “Mark me?”

He shook his head and then dropped down so our foreheads pressed together. “Say what you said on the couch.”

“Oh.” I laughed. “I chose you, Leo. It’s always been you.”

He nodded once, our noses brushed, and then he rolled to his side, still keeping our connection in place. He adjusted my bent leg, wrapping it over his back, and then we lay there until our breathing returned to normal. And that was how sleep eventually found us.

Chapter 32 – Annaliese

The bed was cold. Sitting up, I gulped lungfuls of air, searching the room, looking for evidence—searching for him. This was his apartment. It hadn’t changed in five years. Not the dark bedspread, not the soft dovecote walls. It was as if time stood still.

Retrieving my athletic shorts and tee, I tiptoed to the bathroom before making my way downstairs.

Baldwin sat at his island, paging through his tablet.

He didn’t hear my approach, so I paused to watch the somber man going about his morning routine. My imagination painted the picture. Creativity rose to my aid. I saw a king, solitary and alone, sitting in his castle that overlooked an empire. There was sorrow etched in his aura, longing pulsing at the edges. If I was to write him as a character, this was where he had to make a choice. Continue in his bachelor, lonely ways.

Or change his whole landscape.

Maybe I made a noise while scripting the possible plot points. Maybe it was a sixth sense that proved he wasn’t quite human. Either way, he stiffened and turned sharply toward me.

“Good morning.” I smiled.

His charcoal gaze swept over me. “You slept well. Was it as restful as it seemed?”

My cheeks warmed. “It was.”

“Good.” Leo gestured toward the fridge. “I ordered you one of those strange beverages and some breakfast.”

Going to the fridge, I discovered a large, cold matcha latte with foam bleeding down from the top.

He remembered.

“Thank you.” My smile felt like it would crack my face in two.

“You’re moving in. Today.” He reached into his pocket.

“I’m—” My voice faltered.

“I want you here, where I know you’re safe.”