Page 59 of The King’s Man (The Kingdom of the Krow #3)

I sobbed when my mind filled with the flickering images of me through his eyes. And in his mind I was so much more beautiful, my skin flushed and eyes bright, body lush and smile sparkling.

I felt his heart swell when he watched me enter a room—and felt his eagerness to ask me a question and hear my answer. Felt the drive to keep me close, and how his body drove him to touch, frustrated when I wasn’t near.

I felt the hollow ache in his chest when I was out of his sight, and his delight when my casual comment approved him.

I felt his respect for my strength, his belief in my trustworthiness, his observation of my loyalty, his appreciation of my humor, and his respect for the ways I thought, and the questions I asked.

Then I felt his gratitude for the issues I raised that honed his thoughts when he was planning, and I wanted to weep. I had only ever wanted respect from a man. To be seen as equally valuable, even if differently skilled.

Jann cleared his throat. “I know I’ve fucked up, Dee.

I know I should have told you about the bond, and Caelan and…

” He swallowed hard. “But those are mistakes, not malicious intent. I want you strong. I want to be your strength, not strip you of it. I do see you, and… I’ll prove it to you,” he breathed, his chest moving quickly, short gasps, because his breath was shallow and his heart pounding. “I’ll show you that I respect you and—”

“You already have,” I whispered back.

Then I showed him what was suddenly and abundantly clear to me.

That warm pulse in the bond. That shining cord that attached his heart to mine.

The cocky smile and delighted laugh that made my chest tight when I said something to invite it.

The towering strength at my back when I was afraid.

The smile of sly delight when I put another man in his place or made an unexpectedly saucy joke.

The confidence in my skills and intelligence—and the growled warning for my brother or any other man who dared question whether I was the man for the job.

The deadly protection when I was attacked.

The intrigue when he asked me questions and genuine willingness to listen to my answers—the thoughtful consideration of my questions and challenges when he made a plan.

The soft desire to share his thoughts with me… And his body.

In my mind it all tumbled together—every way another man had ever stolen from me, and every small way he had done whatever was in his power to make me stronger.

He was strong. He believed in me. And he would put his body on the line for me.

That was true strength, I realized: When you were not threatened by someone else, had no need to shrink them, because you knew you were not weakened even if they grew.

I blew out a breath, sitting up so I could meet his eyes, clawing my hands into his hair and holding him because I was trembling. Frantic.

“Forgive me,” I whispered. “Please, Jann.”

“There’s nothing to forgive if you believe me.”

“I believe you!”

“I’m not trying to make you smaller, Dee—I want you to challenge me when I’m wrong,” he rasped. “Just don’t assume that I am.”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. I’ll try. It’s my thoughts—”

“Your thoughts are beautiful and smart and hilarious.”

“My thoughts betray my fear and my weakness and… I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

Then he sighed heavily and I felt him tremble. Moved, I put my hand to his chest, right at the center, and we both inhaled sharply when that pulsing energy crackled between us.

But a moment later he combed fingers through my hair, looked me straight in the eye. I could feel him gathering courage, feel how his heart flinched with fear that I would harm him and I knew…

I knew it had to be me.

Just as he opened his mouth, I put my finger to his lips and shook my head. Then cleared my throat.

“Jann, I’m sorry I hurt you. Do you believe me?”

He nodded, his brows pinching towards a frown and the bond pulsing with his concern.

“Then,” I breathed, “Believe this too: I have been running from you, not because I didn’t love you, or trust you. But because… because I do. I… I love you, Jann. And I trust you. It scares the shit out of me. But you deserve it. You’ve proven that. And I’m so sorry I made you question yourself—”

A strange sound—a groan of relief and hollow ache combined with disbelief—broke from his throat and he took my face in his hands. “Oh, fuck, Dee. I love you too.”

God, I hated that I’d made him question that, as we both broke into smiles and our breathing picked up, I swallowed my tears. “I’m sorry I ran from that. I won’t do it again.”

When Jann took my mouth, the world disappeared. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him close, arching into him so our chests pressed together—and he held me so tightly, that space in my chest thrummed against his.

The bond sang. My soul sang.

He kissed me deeply, then sucked in a breath and pulled back to meet my eyes again, his pinched with need and relief, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“Show me,” he whispered.

“Anything.”

“Show me what you fear so I can stand between it and you. Always.”

I hesitated and he tensed, but I shook my head. “No no, it’s not… I trust you, Jann. It’s me I don’t trust,” I breathed.

Then, swallowing hard against the tears that wanted to steal everything from me, I reached for his mind and showed him the piece of my heart I’d never shown anyone.

The small, childish, terrifying fear that I’d carried ever since Walt.

I showed him myself, mindless with love.

Willingly giving my heart, myself, and it making me small.

Changing my position on truth, accepting less than I was due, eagerly lapping up empty compliments because I wanted so desperately to be well in his eyes.

I showed Jann how those experiences, when I’d given my heart so fully and to the wrong person, had made me believe no man could be deeply trusted.

And yet… yet I longed so desperately to be loved, that I feared when I found him.

Feared I would fall again. Give myself up.

Become his pet, not because he made me so, but because I willingly gave myself.

Gripping his shoulders and swallowing tears, I let Jann hear and see my heart that feared loving him so deeply that I would gladly disappear into his shadow.

But then Jann growled. He took my hands and met my eyes, shaking his head.

“I don’t want you smaller, Dee,” he croaked.

“And I never will. I want more and more and more of you. Every day. I will never hold your leash. My hands are for your applause… and your pleasure.” His voice dropped to a deep rolling growl on that last, and I laughed giddily through my tears, because I could feel his indignation at my self-loathing.

He took my face in his hands and wiped my tears with his thumbs. His voice and eyes intent as everything else faded away.

“My mate—you’re mine, Diadre, and I’m yours.

My blood for your blood. My voice for your champion…

and everything else we vowed, I meant it.

But hear me, because this is equally true: I will not hold you down.

I will not hold you back. I’m your servant.

I will serve your heart, your strength, your well-being until my dying breath.

No matter what. Remember those words, my dear.

No matter what— I’m yours, and you’re mine. And I love you.”

I could hardly breathe. “I love you too, and I’ll—” but I didn’t have a chance to get the words out because the bond suddenly washed with need and his kiss was a fire that ignited on his lips and consumed my blood.

I was lost.

All that squirming fear and itchy disbelief melted away as the bond tangled us together and sucked us closer until we fell into each other.

Minutes later, I was gasping, struggling with buttons when he lifted me to my feet and without getting up, took off one of my boots, then the other, then reached up to the waistband of my leathers, and yanked them down, tearing them off and pulling me back into his lap and into his kiss with a growl of relief.

I sighed into his mouth as I unbuttoned him and shifted, preparing to take him. But moments later, both hands in my hair, he held me there and pulled back to speak against my lips.

“Show me,” he rasped, then kissed me again.

“Show you what?” I gasped back when I could breathe again.

His fingers slid against my scalp. ‘Show me in your mind what you want. I am your servant, Diadre. Let me prove it.’

With shuddering delight, I let my head drop back and imagined him kissing his way down my body, sharing that image with him—and laughing, delighted, when his lips appeared at my ear first, then my throat, then down.

Giddy and overwhelmed with emotion, I imagined his kiss—deep and slow—at the same time that he entered me, inch by perfect inch, slowly, our hips rolling together… and so it was.

Moment after moment.

Dream after dream.

Touch after touch.

I only needed to imagine it and Jann rushed to fulfill my wish.

As tears turned to ragged breaths, and the coursing of fear in my veins became fire for my mate, he showed me, over and over, what servant really meant. And it had nothing to do with society.

Jann humbled me that day. He served my heart in a way no man ever had. And as I turned to serve him in return, I learned in those short, sweet hours, what love really meant.

Love meant that your lover’s pleasure was your own. Jann led by example, showed me that giving to a mate who loved you only increased your own pleasure and peace.

As the bond between us swelled and glowed, it turned and the fire of need devoured my fear. I could only smile and gasp and thank God for my mate.

My massive, cocky, wonderful mate who counted my pleasure as his own.

And whose pleasure filled a space in me I’d held back for far too long.

When we reached the edge of that cliff, a part of me grew frantic—not in fear, but because I never wanted to lose this consuming connection.

But even in that, Jann led the way, breathing my name, and urging me forward. Holding on, only to make certain I fell first— then he followed me with the most beautiful groan. My name in a song, his heart offered without defense.

And when we were both plunged into that ocean of bliss, riding those waves together, when he threw his head back and roared my name, I clung, tighter and tighter, pleading with God never to remove him from me. Never to let us lose the joy of this moment.

When we sagged together, panting and spent, as Jann murmured comfort and gathered me up, curling us into the furs to sleep until night fell, I shook not with fear, but with tremulous hope.

The only fear left was for myself.

Please… please, don’t ever let me forget. He’s the One. The One I’ve wanted all along.