King of Me by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Author:Mimi Jean Pamfiloff [Pamfiloff, Mimi Jean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 22206620
Publisher: P&S, Inc.
Published: 2014-10-19T04:00:00+00:00

~~~

“Mia, we have to talk.” King hopped from the steaming tub and wrapped his large, lean, and muscled frame in a piece of white cloth.

I sat still, glowing and weak from hours of ravenous lovemaking. The man was insatiable. In fact, at one point, I had begun to wonder if he’d taken some sort of ancient herbal supplement because I’d never heard of a man coming twice in a row, then being ready for another round thirty minutes later. But he did. And he had. And after a sensual swim in the ocean—our bodies and lips glued together the entire time—to rinse the sand from our sticky skin, we’d dressed and returned to his chamber. He ordered a day’s worth of food—wine, fruit, bread, and cheese—my favorite meal of all time—and instructed the guards to ensure we wouldn’t be bothered until further notice.

We ate, we drank, we shared stories. He told me about growing up on the island, and of the pressure knowing he’d someday be responsible for so many. He didn’t talk much about his parents or how they died, but I had the impression they’d been loving people who’d instilled the importance of loyalty and duty in their children. When I told King about my family and snippets of the life I’d had before everything changed, he listened with such intensity that I knew he was visualizing every detail. He asked questions about what that part of the world looked like, how many people lived in my “village,” and why I hadn’t married at the age of sixteen.

Yeah, that was kind of cute. But cuter still was the look on his face when I told him lots of women never married, choosing to focus on their careers instead. The open mouth and blinking blue eyes told me that King didn’t get it.

“You are saying that they refuse the protection of a husband?”

“Yep,” I responded.

“And…they are not whores?”

Like I said, it was cute. But cute quickly turned into wicked and sexy the moment his body was ready for more. This last round, though, when he’d bent me over the edge of the tub, his hand bringing me to orgasm three times in quick succession as he pounded his cock into me, was by far the best. It was as if our bodies were so attuned to one another that every touch, lick, and thrust was perfectly calibrated. I couldn’t imagine ever living without him now—not because the sex was more amazing than anything on earth, but because it was proof we were connected in a way that literally defied…everything. Absolutely everything. Which is also why his desire to talk and the serious tone scared the hell out of me.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” I looked away, knowing that was a huge lie. There were a ton of things to say, like he needed to abandon—forever—any thoughts of sacrificing himself.

“Do not pretend that the situation has changed,” he said.

I looked at the murals of fish and octopi on the wall. “Can’t we just pretend for a few more hours?”

“No.

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