“No,” I growled. “Because we’ll be back. As partners, as king and queen, we’ll have more days and nights to volunteer our time. But right now, in this moment, the only thing that’s real for me is you, Lena. And I can’t wait anymore. I can feel my seed bulging and roaring in my balls. I’m so hard for you, all the fucking time. I’ll die if I don’t spear you with my engorged cock.”
I loop my arms around her and smash our bodies together, the force like planets colliding.
I part my lips and taste her, brushing my tongue inside her mouth. Our tongues dance around each other like two electric eels tossing their energy at each other, tasting every sparking drop.
She moans and sinks deeper into the kiss, gripping onto the front of my shirt and pulling me closer.
My hands twitch with the urge to slide up her legs, to tear open her pants and make a hole of lust just for me. Then I’ll drive my fingers up into her sweet red delicious center and puncture it with my lust filled motions, beckoning her red juices all over my hand.
Fuck.
I’m too hard and resisting her is becoming too difficult, the urge to reveal my eleven inch weapon like a command straight from God, or Fate, or whatever the fuck voice is roaring in my mind with the fury of a Viking berserker.
Take her.
Own her.
Now, now, now.
It sings out like a war song I can’t ignore.
I break it off, panting, chest rising and falling like my whole body is going to erupt into a mess of muscular sinew and heat.
“I need you now,” I say, voice breathy with groans. “I need every inch of you. I need to bend you over and have you squeeze your legs together, hiding your pinkness. And then I’ll spread you apart and watch your beautiful squirting pleasure make a film over your hole. Which I’ll break with my bulging cock.”
She gasps, wiggling as though trying to grind her panties against her sex.
“Then let’s get the heck out of here, bad boy,” she moans.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lena
I stand in the doorway of the plush hotel room as Lorenzo swaggers around the room, ostentatiously turning over chairs and lifting up cushions, shooting me his savage’s smirk each time it’s revealed that there’s no camera there.
“I had the place combed three times before we even arrived,” he growls, stopping near the four poster bed.
The room is more like an Aztec emperor’s bedroom than the medieval finery of last time.
The bed is covered with light silk sheets and the bed curtains are a gauzy emerald material, draping down slightly like little semi circles of hazy glass. A white stone bar sits at one end with plush leather white seats – okay, not all Aztec then – and in the corner there’s an elaborate finely constructed shelf, upon which sits giant oversized eggs, inlaid with jewels.
“What do you think these are supposed to mean, my king?” I sass, skipping over to the decorative eggs.
I feel his eyes tracking my every step, even though I’m just wearing a T-shirt and pants, nothing fancy, and yet his eyes take me in as though I’m wearing the fanciest dress in the universe.
“Mean?” he chuckles grimly. “I think they’re supposed to just make the place look nice. Anyway, what’s this king business?”
“What?” I fire, spinning on him. Sunlight shines through the closed drapes behind me, filling the room with a warm glow which Lorenzo steps into as he moves forward. “You’re allowed to call me queen, but I can’t call you king?”
He smirks like an unchained beast, as though he’s been locked in a cage all his forty-two years and now he’s finally smashed the bars and tore them to pieces.
And now he’s free, I’m the only thing he wants, needs.
He stalks right over to me and his smell envelops me, sharp cologne intermingling with the deeper, more primal scent of his seed, a sharp tangy bite that fills the air and makes my nipples tingle and harden, makes my sex flood and my lips buzz with the anticipation of receiving him.
“I need you,” he says, reaching for my cheek. “I’d kill any man who tried to take you from me. Not like Diego did, with his pathetic games. But if somebody barged in here right now and tried to take you by force, I’d snap them like a wishbone. I’ll always protect you, Lena. Always.”
I step forward so that my cheek brushes his hand, turning my head and nuzzling against the strength of his fingers. His whole body heaves in his suit when I make a moaning noise, high pitched and breathy, almost song like.
“And I’m going to take you,” he growls. “Now.”
I let out a squeal when he jumps at me and wraps both his arms around me, smashing me against the sheer rock solidity of his form. I stand on my tiptoes and reach up to find his lips, our mouths infusing as our lips split open and our tongues clash and come apart only to clash harder.
Nerves tingle and dance up and down the surface of my tongue, around my mouth, captivating me in the miniature explosion of a dying stair.
Everything sizzles and spins and deep inside I feel my hymen going tight and creamy. My hole flutters and my belly gets warm and fuzzy, screaming at me to sit down on his massive length, to let the lust in my body guide me.
No more doubt.
No more second guessing.
No more what if.
This just is, and I’d have it no other way.
Our desire takes us dance stepping toward the bed. I run my hands up his broad muscled back and over the fierce tendons of his neck, and then through the moon silver of his hair. I drag my fingernails down his scalp, gasping in the kiss.
He grabs my shoulders and pushes me softly, sending me backward on the
