Page 45 of Cannon (King Family Saga #3)

Queen

His arms were around me again, and everything in the universe felt right.

I pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, those dangerous blue-green eyes that saw right through me.

I’d spent hours thinking he was locked up, that I might never feel this again, and now here he was, standing in my living room like a miracle.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my fingers tracing the hard line of his jaw. “For what I said before. About your choices being stupid. I had no right to judge you like that.”

Cannon’s mouth curved into that slow smile that always made my heart skip. “You were right though. It was stupid. Holding onto that grudge was just hurting me, not them.”

“I still shouldn’t have—”

He cut me off with a kiss, his lips claiming mine with a hunger that stole my breath. I melted against him, my body remembering exactly what it felt like to surrender to this man. His tongue swept into my mouth, tasting me, owning me, making promises his body would keep.

“I took the money,” he murmured against my lips.

I pulled back, eyes wide. “You did?”

“You talked some sense into me.” His hands slid down my back, gripping my ass and pulling me against the hard ridge of his erection. “Now I need to teach you a lesson about how you talk to me.”

Heat pooled between my thighs at the dangerous edge in his voice. “What kind of lesson?”

His eyes darkened as he backed me against the wall, one hand coming up to wrap around my throat. Not squeezing, just holding me there, reminding me who was in control.

“The kind that’ll have you screaming my name,” he promised, his lips brushing against my ear. “The kind that’ll make you think twice before you disrespect me again.”

I should’ve been offended. Should’ve pushed him away and reminded him who the fuck I was. Queen Marie Davenport didn’t take orders from anybody. But the truth was, I wanted this, needed it even. Needed to surrender control to the one man who’d earned it.

“Take off your clothes,” he commanded, stepping back to watch me.

My fingers trembled as I pulled my top over my head, letting it fall to the floor. His eyes burned into me as I unhooked my bra, my heavy breasts spilling free. I slid my leggings down my thick thighs, taking my panties with them until I stood completely naked before him.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, “Now get on your knees.”

I sank down slowly, the hardwood floor cool against my skin as I looked up at him through my lashes.

He unbuckled his belt, the soft leather sliding through the loops with a whisper that made my pulse quicken.

The button of his pants, then the zipper, each sound building the anticipation until I was practically panting with need.

When he finally freed his dick, thick and hard and perfect, I licked my lips in anticipation. I’d dreamed about tasting him.

“Open that pretty mouth,” he ordered, his voice rough with desire.

I obeyed, letting him guide the head of his dick between my lips. The salt-sweet taste of him exploded on my tongue as he pushed deeper, testing how much I could take.

“That’s it,” he groaned, one hand tangling in my hair. “Take all of daddy’s dick.”

I hollowed my cheeks, sucking him deeper until he hit the back of my throat. My eyes watered but I didn’t stop, didn’t pull back. I wanted all of him, wanted to please him, wanted to make him lose that iron control he always maintained.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his grip tightening in my hair. “Look at you, taking it so good.”

I moaned around his length, the vibration making him thrust deeper. Saliva dripped down my chin as he fucked my mouth, each stroke making me wetter, needier. I reached between my legs, desperate for relief.

“Don’t you dare touch yourself,” he growled, noticing my movement. “That pussy belongs to me tonight. You don’t get to come until I say so.”

I whimpered, dropping my hand obediently. The denial only heightened my arousal, my clit throbbing with each beat of my heart.

After what felt like an eternity of sweet torture, he pulled out of my mouth with a wet pop. Before I could catch my breath, he was hauling me to my feet, spinning me around to face the wall.

“Hands above your head,” he commanded, pressing his still-clothed body against my naked back.

I placed my palms flat against the wall, my heart hammering in my chest as I felt him undress behind me. Then his naked heat was pressed against me again, his dick sliding between my thighs, teasing my dripping entrance.

“You’re soaking wet,” he observed, his fingers finding my clit and circling it slowly. “All this from sucking my dick? You that hungry for it?”

“Yes,” I admitted, shame and desire mixing into something intoxicating. “Please, Cannon. I need you inside me.”

“Not yet,” he said, dropping to his knees behind me. “First, I’m gonna taste this sweet pussy. Spread your legs wider.”

I obeyed, widening my stance as his hands gripped my ass, spreading me open to his hungry gaze. The first swipe of his tongue made my knees buckle. He caught me, holding me firmly in place as he devoured me from behind, his tongue exploring every fold, every sensitive spot.

“Oh my God,” I moaned, my forehead pressing against the wall as pleasure built inside me. “Cannon, please…”

He sucked my clit between his lips, and I nearly came on the spot. But just as I teetered on the edge, he pulled away, leaving me trembling and desperate.

Not yet,” he said, rising to his feet. “You don’t get to come until I’m inside you. Until you’ve learned your lesson.”

Before I could protest, he spun me around again, lifting me effortlessly. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me to my bedroom, his mouth never leaving mine. He tossed me onto the bed, following me down, his body covering mine completely.

“You think you can disrespect me?” he growled, pinning my wrists above my head with one large hand. “Think you can talk to me any kind of way?”

“No,” I whispered, arching against him. “I’m sorry.”

“Show me how sorry you are,” he demanded, positioning himself at my entrance. “Beg for this dick.”

Pride warred with desire inside me. I don’t beg for anything. But the throbbing between my thighs overrode my ego.

“Please,” I whispered, looking directly into his eyes. “Please fuck me, Cannon. I need you inside me. Need to feel you stretching me open.”

Something flashed in his eyes. It was a look of satisfaction, possession, maybe even something deeper. Then he was pushing inside me, stretching me deliciously as he filled me inch by inch.

“Fuck,” I gasped, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. “You’re so deep.”

“This what you wanted?” he growled, pulling back only to thrust deeper. “This dick?”

“Yes,” I moaned, wrapping my legs tighter around his waist. “God, yes.”

He set a brutal pace, each thrust pushing me higher, closer to the release I desperately needed. His mouth found my neck, teeth scraping against my sensitive skin as he marked me as his.

“You’re mine,” he growled against my throat. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” I gasped, the words torn from somewhere deep inside me. “All yours, Cannon.”

He reached between us, his thumb finding my clit, circling it in time with his thrusts. The dual sensation was too much, too good, and I felt myself hurtling toward the edge.

“Come for me,” he commanded, his rhythm never faltering. “Now, Queen. Let me feel that pussy squeeze my dick.”

The orgasm hit me like a tidal wave, washing over me in pulsing waves of pleasure so intense I screamed his name. My body convulsed beneath his, walls clenching around him as he drove me higher, extending my pleasure until I was sobbing with the intensity of it.

Only then did he allow himself to follow, his body tensing above mine as he buried himself deep, his release hot inside me. He collapsed beside me, pulling me against his chest as we both struggled to catch our breath.

For a long moment, we lay in silence, our bodies cooling in the aftermath. His fingers traced lazy patterns on my back, and I felt something inside me shift and settle. Something that had been restless and searching for as long as I could remember.

“I’m getting that bed and breakfast,” he said suddenly, his voice rumbling through his chest beneath my ear.

I looked up at him, not sure I’d heard correctly. “What?”

“I’m gonna give you everything you deserve, Queen. Everything.”

I swallowed hard, emotion threatening to choke me. “Why?”

His hand came up to cup my face, thumb brushing across my cheekbone. “Because you’re the first person who’s seen me. Really seen me. Not what I can do for them, not what I can give them. Just me.”

I kissed him then, soft and sweet and full of everything I couldn’t say yet. When we pulled apart, I rested my forehead against his, breathing him in.

I should’ve been denying this. He was younger than me. We weren’t a good fit. But it felt so right. It felt perfect.

“Thank you for coming back to me,” I whispered.

His arms tightened around me. “Always will,” he promised. “No matter what.”

I believed him. Against all odds, against all my carefully constructed walls and years of disappointment, I believed Cannon when he said he’d come back to me.

And for the first time in longer than I could remember, I wasn’t afraid of what tomorrow might bring.

We lay there in peaceful silence, our bodies still tangled together.

The afterglow of sex had me feeling warm and safe, something I hadn’t felt in longer than I could remember.

His heartbeat beneath my ear was steady, reassuring.

“I still can’t believe you’re going to buy me a bed and breakfast,” I murmured, tracing the tattoos across his chest. “That’s some real fairy tale shit.”

Cannon’s laugh rumbled through his chest. “Not just any bed and breakfast. The best damn one in upstate New York. You deserve it, Queen.”

I propped myself up on my elbow to look at him. “You know you don’t have to spend your money on me, right? I’m not with you for what you can give me.”

“I know that,” he said, his fingers playing with a strand of my hair. “That’s why I want to give you everything.”

My phone vibrated on the nightstand, breaking the moment. I groaned, reaching for it. “If that’s ZaZa saying she’s staying out all night again, I swear—”

But the screen showed an unfamiliar number with a New Jersey area code. My stomach tightened.

“Hello?” I answered, keeping my voice neutral.

“Is this Queen Marie Davenport?” a deep male voice asked.

“Yes, this is she. Who’s calling?” I sat up straighter, pulling the sheet to cover my nakedness even though the caller couldn’t see me.

Cannon’s eyes narrowed, his body tensing beside mine. He could sense my unease.

“This is Detective Morris from the Elizabeth Police Department in New Jersey. I’m calling about Adele Davenport-Jones.”

My mother. My heart stuttered in my chest. “What about her?” The words came out sharper than I intended, years of hurt and abandonment making my voice brittle.

“I regret to inform you that we found Ms. Davenport deceased in her home earlier today.”

The room seemed to tilt sideways. “Deceased?” I repeated, the word hollow in my mouth. “What do you mean deceased?”

Cannon sat up now, his hand coming to rest on my lower back, strong and steady.

“Ms. Davenport, I’m sorry to tell you this over the phone, but your mother was found murdered.”

I dropped the phone. Guilt immediately washed over me because the last time we spoke, I had cut her off. She was paranoid and felt like someone was watching her. Perhaps she was right.