Page 39 of The Bonds We Break

“King,” she gasps, and I wonder what my real name would sound like on her lips. Would it sound as breathless? As needy?

“Take it for me.” I grunt. “I know you can.”

Her nails dig into my shoulders, and I don’t care. Let her scar me.

As if she can read my mind, she takes the initiative and starts to move just how I want it. “Perfect, Rae. Faster.”

I watch as my cock disappears inside her. Nothing, no porn clip or sexual endeavor, has ever been as hot as my view right now.

Her eyes lock onto mine.

My palms cup her breasts, my thumbs stroking her nipples before I pull on both of them. Her walls clench around me. But my favorite thing is the shock on her face as she comes, her eyes wide, her mouth open. She has no idea how perfect she is in this moment.

“Rae, fuck. There’s my good girl.”

She squeezes around me like a vise. It’s so fucking tight.

A shudder ripples down my spine.

And I come in a hard burst that makes my head spin. It’s so intense, my whole body jacks off the sofa. I grab Rae, holding her tight to me as I ride it out, as my cock throbs.

I’m not a religious man, but it’s fucking spiritual. Otherworldly. My head spins and my heart races.

We hold each other as we suck in air. There’s sweat between our skin. We’re entangled in each other’s arms as she sits across my lap, my cock still buried deep inside her. If I have my way, it won’t leave there for the next twelve hours.

I stroke her hair, petting her softly because I don’t want to break this moment, the first real connection I’ve had with someone in so fucking long.

Even though it’s the last person I should be feeling it with.

Rae’s forehead is buried against my neck. I can feel her breath whisper across my skin. The firelight crackles.

Neither of us moves.

Silence settles between us.

I don’t want this moment to break, even as I feel Rae stir.

15

RAE

“Then talk to the lawyer and figure out what the fuck is going on.” King glances over at me, mutters a curse, then heads down the corridor to the bedroom. I hear the rickety door slam.

It’s the first time I’ve seen him since he left Sunday morning, and it’s now Tuesday.

He’s been like this for most of the morning since he arrived. I thought he’d want sex. But he’s been wrangling his men. Some conversations, I’ve overheard. A delivery into the docks. A tracker that set off an alert. Murmured mentions of names. Cillian. Clutch. Vex. Other times, I’ve simply heard the bedroom door slam.

He also gave me my laptop as soon as he got here, allowing me five minutes to send my clients updates. It was enough time to copy and paste an opening apology and to send each of them some homework to do before my availability opens up again.

Since the cabin is warm and the power is finally back on, I showered. I did it quickly because I didn’t want King getting any ideas about coming to join me. Now I’m comfortably seated on the sofa trying not to think about how good it might have felt.

Because the night before he left to go on some club run, the sex was ...

Words hit my brain at rapid speed. Incredible. Soul-affirming. Terrifying. Never to be repeated.

Of course, I had the best sex I’d ever had with the one man I shouldn’t. And for a hot minute, it felt as though he wanted me more than he did revenge against my brother.

There was something utterly transcendent about the whole thing. From the rare orgasm to the way he held me afterwards. From the way my whole body responded to his gruffly uttered words to the way it felt like we were made for each other.