Reign of a King (Kingdom Duet #1) - Rina Kent Page 0,47
uncomfortable, but the angle of his cock gets deeper, hitting that most pleasurable spot inside me.
“Oh…oh…t-there…there…”
“Here?” He does it again and I nod frantically.
He slaps my arse, then reaches out with the same hand and closes it around my throat. “As much as you say you hate me, your body unravels around me, Aurora. This body is my fucking property.”
I don’t have the energy or time to answer as I’m shocked into an orgasm, instinctively screaming out his name. It’s so different from the other ones. This one goes on and on, and I feel like I’m going to faint or something.
Do people ever faint during sex?
Jonathan’s grunt fills the air as he pulls out of me and comes all over my arse.
The hot liquid burns a little against the sting of his handprint on my flesh. I bite my lower lip, relishing the sensation.
Is it supposed to feel as if I’ve ascended out of my body and have just now come back?
This must be what it means to be fucked.
Literally.
Figuratively.
When I think Jonathan will release me, he pulls me up by the hair, his hand still caging my throat, and whispers hot, sinister words at my ear, “The only reason you haven’t been owned before is because I hadn’t come along yet.”
23
Aurora
There’s sore and there’s the inability to move.
I’m in the latter category.
No kidding.
I rolled to my side to silence the alarm and stopped when stinging pain exploded through my whole body. It’s worse between my thighs and on my arse.
That was half an hour ago.
I probably need to call in sick or something. Jonathan broke me with his cock. I knew that thing wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near me.
Whenever I shift and feel the sting of pain, memories from last night rush to the front of my mind and my core tingles as if he’s still inside me. Like he’s still owning every inch of me and driving into me with feral power.
The control and ruthlessness he emanated still cause hot blood to rush through my veins. I never knew I needed that savage brutality until I had Jonathan – or he had me, to be more accurate.
I kind of passed out after we were finished. I don’t recall how my arse was cleaned from his cum, but I faintly remember moaning at the feel of soft cloth on my behind and between my legs.
Then there was the distinctive click of the door as his woodsy scent disappeared from around me.
It’s not that I want him to cuddle me or anything. We have separate rooms for a reason, and while I’m never allowed in his, I liked the arrangement of having my own space.
So why do I feel abandoned?
That’s stupid – utterly so. What the hell was I expecting? A bloody connection or something? I’ve already decided that it won’t happen in this lifetime. Just because Jonathan revived my body, doesn’t mean I’ll want other things from him.
I stopped wanting things that day when I stared up at the pouring sky and begged to be woken up, yet never was.
My guilt doesn’t help either.
The fact that I desire Jonathan when I shouldn’t cuts through my ribcage like the knife from that day. But this phantom pain is more stabbing than the real one. It’s not only a betrayal to my mission to unravel the truth, it’s also a betrayal to Alicia and to who I am.
For the life of me, I can't stop my body from craving him, no matter how much I try to.
And I have tried.
Maybe you're not trying hard enough.
Sighing, I reach for my phone, I’ll call in sick and work from here. Layla will shower me with her ‘daddy’ jokes if I go to work walking like I've been thoroughly fucked.
Not that I can even get up, let alone shower so I can go to work. Maybe it will get better with time.
The door opens and I think it’s Margot. But then I recall she always knocks before entering my room. The only one who barges in without warning is the tyrant of the house.
Sure enough, Jonathan strides inside with that infuriating confidence that he wears like a second skin.
He’s dressed in an elegant black suit, his jacket closed. Who knew there was an entirely different world hidden underneath that brutally elegant look? The cloth moulds to his well-built frame, outlining his hard muscles. Muscles I ogled last night, touched, and grabbed onto while —