In the Arms of the King by Heather Killough-Walden

Author:Heather Killough-Walden [Killough-Walden, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: vampire romance, sex scene, werewolf romance, fae romance, dragon romance, paranormal love scene, paranormal romance love scene
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The Winter King

The Kings, Book Eight

Oh my God! Poppy’s mind spun wildly out of control. She had no power over what her body was doing. One second, she’d been sitting way too close to a man who was way too beautiful, and he’d been laughing in that way that made her insides turn to absolute jelly, and in the very next heartbeat her hands were on either side of his face, and her lips were pressed against his.

There was half a second in which she processed what she’d done and how she’d actually done it. And then, with the force of a hurricane, Kristopher Scaul crashed right back into her.

If she’d had the ability to gasp or squeal or cry out in any manner, she might have done so, it happened so fast and so hard. But he claimed her lips in a take-charge kiss that pried them apart and opened her up without mercy or pause, and she lost all ability to do anything but feel.

She made a small sound, captured hungrily by him as he expertly turned with her on the bed, and she found herself pinned beneath him on the mattress, her chest against his. The weight of his body kept her pressed into the furs beneath them as his hands encircled her wrists.

She opened her eyes as he suddenly eased away, breaking their kiss. Her breathing was ragged, shocked into that fluttering-heart madness that promises pleasure, but threatens fainting spells. But he rose above her, and their eyes met.

His were glowing.

“Holy sh-shit,” she muttered, unable to stop herself. She wasn’t quite sure which sentiment she was expressing – her surprise over the kiss? Or the fact that the glowing eyes were one more reminder that he was supernatural king? Or both?

“I’m sorry,” he said.

And despite the silhouette of him, the rock hardness of a man he was, the odd thing was he actually sounded like he meant it. “But I like the way you taste. And I love the way you moan.”

He shrugged even, just a little, and Poppy felt mystified.

“You really do like a lot of things about me,” she whispered.

He gazed down at her through those eyes that looked like fire-lit glaciers, and then he laughed, and the sound moved deep in his rumbling chest, like the engine of a freight train. Oh gods, she thought helplessly as the sound and movement poured over her like its own kind of magic.

Her heart wouldn’t slow down. His chest was like a brick wall against her nipples, and they were so hard at that moment, they actually hurt. Of course, that could also have been the temperature in the room. It was an ice hotel. In Iceland.

But if he was going to be honest with her, then she might as well do the same. “I admit,” she said rather breathlessly. “I like a few things about you too.” Like pretty much everything.

He grinned, flashing perfect pearly whites. “I know.”

Poppy’s eyebrows rose. Cocky son of a bitch. “Oh?”

He laughed again, and she bit her lip.

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