The Rebel King (All the King's Men Duet #2) - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,21
fear in those water-sky eyes are my undoing. I reach for her, barely trusting myself, but needing her to know I’ll keep her safe. I pull her onto my lap and brush the long hair back over her shoulders and away from her face.
“I wouldn’t ever let that happen.” I press our foreheads together. “I would have moved heaven and earth, bought heaven and earth, to get you back.”
“But it was never just the money for him.” She grips my neck and huddles closer. “I knew I was going to die, Doc, and all I could think was that I’d never told you I loved you.”
“Yeah.” I make a conscious effort to loosen my fingers from her waist and thigh. “That’s alI I could think, too.”
“And I’d never heard you say it.” She looks up, her gray eyes darkening, shining with tears. “But I knew you loved me, too.”
“So much.” I dip my nose to her neck, absorbing the smell of the soap from her bath and the alluring scent that is hers alone. “It was killing me that you might not ever know.”
“I knew,” she whispers, drifting kisses over my face until she reaches my mouth. “Maxim, I knew.”
Pulling her chin between my thumb and forefinger, I pry her mouth open and command the kiss. I try to exercise restraint, but instantly take her tongue, licking into her with possessive strokes, so hungry, so desperate. Swallowing the little sounds she makes, I pull her closer, wanting so badly to be tender, to take my time, but desire and need suffocate my good intentions.
I press her back into the sofa cushions, squeezing her breast through the silk pajama top. My hips are notched between her thighs and I thrust, the movements aggressive and compulsive. She whimpers, and I go still.
Dammit. Am I hurting her?
She’s not ready for this. She’s been through an ordeal. I need to put this fucking wolf on a leash.
I pull back, sit up, rest my elbows on my knees and tunnel my fingers through my hair.
“Nix, I’m sorry.” I lick my lips, my dick going harder at the taste of her lingering there. “Baby, go back to bed. You need your rest. It’s been . . . uh, a crazy few days.”
She caresses my back, and I jump like she’s touched an exposed nerve. I’m that attuned to her hands on me.
“Are you . . .” She sits up, too, leaning forward. I feel her eyes searing my profile. “Do you not want to—”
“You know I do.” I whip my head around to meet the confusion in her eyes.
“Then why?” She leans in to kiss me, her lips soft and gentle, two things I already know I’ll forget to be as soon as I touch her. “I’m alive and I missed you.”
I jerk away from the sweet contact of the kiss.
“I want it too much,” I grit out, shamed by my lack of control, but helpless to do anything about it with this wildness prowling inside me. “You’ve been through a lot.”
“You think I don’t want it?” she asks softly. I search her eyes, surprised that the heat, the desperation there matches mine. “Is that why you stayed out here when you should have been in bed with me? Talk to me. Tell me, Doc.”
I close my eyes, which is a mistake because her scent, her warmth—everything about her rises to the surface of my senses, increasing my gut level urge to reunite our bodies, reconnect our souls.
“It’s like I came so close to losing you,” I say stiltedly. “And something in me wants to lay claim to you. I don’t think it’ll be gentle. It’s some caveman shit. I know that.”
“Then I must be on some cavewoman shit,” she says, her smile widening, even though her eyes remain solemn. “Because I feel the same way.”
“You do?” I barely allow the words out in case she says no.
“I do. I was lying in bed, and the sedative worked at first, but I woke up and you weren’t there. Just staring at the ceiling felt wrong. I almost died, and I want to feel alive. Nothing makes me feel more alive than making love to you.”
I couldn’t put words to it, but she did. She summarized exactly what has me clawing out of my skin to be inside of her. But even after hearing it from her lips, I need her to make the first move. I need to know she’s fine; that if I lose control,