King of the Wilds - Tasha Black Page 0,35

frightened you,” he told her solemnly. “I want to know everything that happened while I was sleeping. But first I want to finish what we started the last time we were here.”

“I want to be your queen,” she replied.

The words washed away the ache in his heart with a wave of pure happiness. He bent to remove her clothing, feeling frantic to make her wish, and his need, a reality.

At last she stood before him, naked and beautiful, her titian hair hanging in loose curls down her back.

He lifted her in his arms again and carried her to the edge of the water where a soft bed of moss awaited.

He closed his eyes and called to the trees, letting his renewed power flow freely.

A whisper of branches told him they were doing his bidding, extending around them to form a beautiful shelter where he could claim his queen.

But he had no eyes for the trees. He saw only Miranda, her bright hair fiery against the green of the moss, her arms extended, urging him close.

He pressed his lips to hers and tasted eternity as her light moan pierced him with desire.

He pulled away to gaze into her eyes. “I will love you forever, Miranda Cannon. Will you be my queen?”

“Yes,” she moaned.

He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her delicate scent, memorizing the softness of her skin, the warmth of her pulse.

But he could feel her nipples, stiff like buds against his chest, longing for his touch.

She whimpered as he moved down to lick one into his mouth.

He savored the delicate texture and the melody of her cries as he teased and lavished her nipples with attention.

Miranda tangled her fingers in his hair, driving him wild with the delicious scrape of her nails against his scalp.

He moved lower, pressing kisses against her warm belly as he nudged her thighs apart. He needed to taste her before he claimed her, needed it more than his next breath.

Miranda froze as he pressed his mouth to her tender sex.

He stroked her firmly with his tongue and the sounds she made were incredible. He lapped at her again and again, teasing her, exploring exactly what made her wiggle and scream with the most despair and delight.

At last he felt her hips trembling with the need for satisfaction.

He crawled up and caged her head in his arms, pressing his forehead to hers.

“I need you, Miranda,” he groaned.

“Please,” she whispered brokenly.

24

Miranda

Miranda was pinned between the soft mossy bank and the exquisite hardness of her king.

Sensation and emotion ripped through her, threatening to unhinge her mind.

“I need you,” she whimpered.

“Easy, my love,” he crooned.

She felt him take himself in his hand, pressing hot steel against her opening.

He was so large it should have been frightening, but she felt herself melt like butter around him, accepting him slowly and painlessly until at last he was fully seated.

“Miranda.” It sounded like a prayer.

“Please,” she begged again, as if she had forgotten any other word existed.

Bron began to move, slowly.

She felt the pleasure mounting as if it were unfurling from the ground, tender shoots exploding out of the earth, flying toward the heavens.

She heard her own cries of ecstasy as if from outside of her body.

“Miranda,” he groaned again, pounding into her faster, filling her again and again.

Another climax took her and this time she saw flowers blooming behind her eyes.

When he pushed her over the edge for a third time, she swore she heard birds singing a symphony.

Bron cried out his own pleasure and she relished the feeling of his hot seed jetting into her, filling her with his love and renewal.

When they were both sated, he curled himself around her, and they lay there in happy silence, breathing each other in.

“I missed you,” she murmured at last.

“I could tell,” he teased.

He twined his fingers through hers, and she saw that each of them now had vines extending up their hands and encircling their wrists.

“It’s real now,” she whispered.

“Are you sorry?” he asked her.

“No,” she said, horrified. “Are you?”

He laughed and the happy sound of it seemed to reverberate in her blood. “I could never be sorry.”

“I could stay here forever,” she told him. “But it doesn’t feel right not to make sure your brothers know you’re home.”

“My brothers?” he scoffed.

“Everyone has been searching for you for almost a year,” she scolded him. “You would think that if you can just go to sleep for months at a time, you might tell your family about it.”

“They were really