Page 12 of Ruined By King

"Oh god⁠—"

"Not god." I switch to the other breast, biting gently before soothing it with my tongue. "Just me. And you're going to be saying my name a lot louder than that before I'm done with you."

Her laugh is breathless, shaky. "Promises, promises."

I pull back and look at her — half-naked on my desk, lips swollen, chest heaving. The Sergeant-at-Arms of a rival club's daughter. The woman I should stay far, far away from.

And all I can think is mine.

"Lie back," I tell her.

She does, bracing herself on her elbows, watching me with those dark eyes as I reach for the button of her jeans. I pop it open, drag down the zipper, and start pulling the denim down her legs. She lifts her hips to help, and a moment later she's in nothing but a scrap of black lace that's already soaked through.

I can see how wet she is. Can smell her arousal, musky and sweet. My cock strains against my jeans, painfully hard.

"This wet for me?" I trace my finger over the damp lace, and she shudders. "All this for the man who's supposed to be your enemy?"

"You were never my enemy." Her voice is barely a whisper. "You've been under my skin for months."

"Good." I hook my fingers in the lace and drag it down her legs. "Because I'm about to be a lot deeper than that."

I sink to my knees in front of the desk, spreading her thighs wider, and take a moment to just look at her. Pink and glistening and so fucking perfect I could die happy right here.

"King—" she starts.

I lean in and lick her from entrance to clit in one long stroke, and whatever she was going to say dissolves into a moan.

She tastes even better than I imagined. Sweet, tangy, addictive. I grip her thighs and bury my face in her pussy, eating her like I've been starving for it, because I have. I circle her clit with my tongue, then suck it between my lips, and her hips buck off the desk.

"Fuck— oh fuck—" Her hips buck off the desk.

I slide two fingers inside her, curling them to find that spot, and her whole body arches. She's so tight, clenching around me, and all I can think about is how good she's going to feel wrapped around my cock.

"That's it," I murmur against her, pumping my fingers while my tongue works her clit. "Let me hear you."

She's not quiet. She moans, she whimpers, my name falling from her lips over and over. When I add a third finger and suck harder on her clit, her thighs clamp around my head and she comes with a scream, her pussy pulsing around my fingers.

I work her through it, licking and sucking until she's trembling, until she's pushing weakly at my head.

"Too much— I can't⁠—"

"You can." I stand up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, and reach for my belt. "And you're going to. I'm nowhere near done with you."

Her eyes drop to my hands as I unbuckle my belt and shove my jeans down. My cock springs free, hard and aching, and I watch her lick her lips.

"Like what you see?"

"Get inside me and find out."

I don't need to be told twice.

I grab her hips and drag her to the edge of the desk, lining myself up. The head of my cock presses against her entrance, slick with her arousal, and I have to grit my teeth against the urge to slam in all at once.

"Look at me," I tell her.

She does. Those brown eyes lock onto mine, and I see everything — want, trust, defiance. She knows exactly what she's doing. And she wants it anyway.

I push inside her, one slow, relentless inch at a time.