I close my eyes and take a big gulp of water.
If this was my old life, I’d head over to Trader Joe’s for my usual celebration fare of cheap wine and a treat from their bakery because I just put the final touches on the final painting for my next show.
I should’ve finished last night, but I’d been inspired to start a piece for a whole new collection. But finishing today is fine, since my show isn’t for another couple of weeks.
I’m taking another drink of water, thinking about how I need to figure out a way to get some music in my studio, when my name is bellowed so loud I jump, spilling water all down my front.
I’m still trying to brush beads of water off my shirt when King comes storming into the kitchen.
I didn’t even know he’d gotten home.
“Upstairs,” he demands.
“You made me spill––”
King snaps his fingers. That same stupid snap he did the other night, and I hate it. Even as I feel it in my core.
“But––” I’m breathing heavy.
When did I start breathing heavy?
King circles the island to where I’m standing, yanks the glass from my hand, slamming it on the counter so forcefully, I’m surprised it doesn’t break. “I said upstairs,” he growls, but doesn’t even give me time to move on my own, he just grabs my arm and starts to pull me through the house.
I can’t tell if he’s angry, or what’s going on, but he’s being intense as hell and I don’t know why.
“I didn’t do anything!” I try to tug my arm away, but instead of letting go, he chuckles darkly.
“Oh, I know you didn’t, Little Wife.”
My mind spins as he drags me up the stairs.
“King, what’s wrong?”
His fingers flex when I say his name but he doesn’t answer, just drags me all the way to our room.
I cross the threshold before him and he kicks the door shut behind us, finally releasing my arm. “Take off your clothes.”
I whirl around. “What is going on?”
King’s jaw flexes as he steps forward, grips my buttoned-up flannel, and rips the front open.
“Hey!” I shout, but he ignores my struggle to push him away and shoves the shirt off my shoulders.
When he reaches for my tank top, I grab it first.
I don’t know what the hell has him so riled up, but I don’t want him to rip this too.
My face is hidden behind my tank top as I pull it over my head, when King starts yanking my leggings and underwear off.
“Step out,” he snaps the command.
“Fine, geez.” I brace myself on his shoulders as he crouches before me as I lift one foot at a time.
Tossing them aside, King stands in front of me, fully dressed, chest heaving, looking like a hungry predator.
“What…” I don’t even know what to ask him.
But King doesn’t seem interested in talking.
Placing his big palm against the center of my chest, he makes me walk backward, until the back of my legs hit the end of the bed.
Trapped between him and the mattress, I have no choice but to sit when he presses his hand into me more firmly.
King lifts a knee and pushes it between my own, spreading my thighs until they’re framing both of his. His eyes are on fire as they look down at me, and I don’t think he’s mad. But he’s definitely something.
But he doesn’t make any more moves to touch me. He just stands there, staring down at my nakedness––and, god help me––he starts to roll up his sleeves.
“King…”
He shakes his head. “It’s either my King or husband.”
Air leaves my lungs, but no sound comes out.
He can’t be for real.
But then, when he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small black box, I forget how to breathe.
Because it looks like a ring box.
Is he really…?
King doesn’t say a word as he opens it, and pulls out the most extravagantly huge diamond ring I’ve ever seen in my life.
It’s…it’s absurd.
Just straight up absurd.
And the thin band is shimmering with diamonds all the way around. Making the whole thing sparkle like it’s on fire.
King uses his free hand to grab my left, and with his other, the one holding the ridiculous ring, he shoves the diamond onto my finger.
My mouth opens, but I don’t know what to say as I stare down at it.
It’s a rectangular emerald cut that basically covers the whole of my finger between the bottom and first knuckle. Never mind the fact that it fits perfectly.
I…
Why did I have to be naked for this?
I lift my gaze to meet King’s, but he’s lowering, to his knees. And for one stupid moment I think he’s about to propose to me. But then he’s dragging my thighs open and pulling me to the edge of the bed. To…
His tongue meets my core in an open-mouthed kiss and electricity jolts through my body.
King moans at the same time that I do, and his hands grip my hips tighter as he shoves his face fully into my pussy.
And I just know he’s feeling proud of himself for how turned on I am.
I’d scold my traitorous vagina for getting so wet for this lunatic, but when his lips seal around my clit, and one of his big fingers shoves into my entrance, I praise her for being so prepared.
Rapidly building pleasure makes me sway, so I reach out and grab handfuls of King’s hair to keep upright. Then cry out when he shoves another finger inside me.
King might have his flaws, but pussy eating skills aren’t one of them.
His fingers pull all the way out then slowly push all the way in, while his tongue dances back and forth over my clit.
“K-king.”
He sucks my clit almost painfully hard into his mouth, and I remember his words.
“Husband,” I pant. And King groans his approval.
I watch as he lowers the hand not touching my pussy down to his lap. It’s out of view, but I manage to hear the sound of a zipper, over the sound of him lapping at my core.
His shoulder starts to move as he starts to stroke himself, and just knowing that he’s turned on from eating me out has me that much closer to the edge.
“Say it again,” he grunts against my flesh.
“Husband,” I breathe the word. “Husband.”
King pulls back just long enough to let go of his cock, swipe his whole hand down my slit, gathering the wetness on his palm, then wrapping his hand back around his length.
“Holy fuck,” I groan, the sight of that burned into my memory forever.
My pussy clenches around nothing until he starts to shove his fingers back inside me, and it feels so good. It all feels so goddamn good.
“Again, Wife.” King’s eyes bore into mine. “Tell me who I am.”
We stare at each other, as he strokes his hard cock, with his fingers sliding in and out of me. And I tell him who he is.
“My King,” I whisper. “My husband,” I promise.
