Page 16 of Vicious King

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I can feel his excitement pressing against my inner thigh and a thrill ripples through me.

Mads pulls back and looks into my eyes. “Mykaella, my heart, my queen. You are absolutely radiant. I plan to show you every day for the rest of our lives just how much you mean to me.”

With each word, the ice and walls shatter. Our mouths connect, hands roving over each other’s body. My legs squeeze around him and his grip under my bum is firm so I can rip his button down open with my free hands. I take a moment to luxuriate over the firmness of his chest and ripples of his toned abs and biceps—running my palms over his bare flesh before planting soft kisses over his neck that brings out gooseflesh across his tanned shoulders.

Slowly, he lowers us to the ground, using his shirt as a makeshift blanket to lay me down on. I’m lost in ecstasy as his mouth carves a path from my neck to my thighs, unbuttoning my shirt as he goes. The breeze touches my exposed skin and I close my eyes for a moment before opening them again. The world seems subdued through my heavy lashes as I succumb to Mads’ tender touches.

I bite my lip as his hands make quick work of the lacy number I had on under my skirt and his mouth finds my most sensitive part of me. A soft groan escapes my lips as his tongue draws slow and steady circles around my clitoris and he explores my depths. I clutch onto a shirt sleeve with one hand, my legs draping over his shoulders, and my other hand finds purchase on the cool dirt floor. My hips rock up to meet him, the ache growing with each tantalizing rotation of his tongue.

He rises up and I shift my heavy gaze to his liquidy amber eyes—those hazels full of lust and longing, reflecting my own desires.

“Mads, I can’t...I want you so bad,” I whisper, trying to catch my breath as he moves from tongue to fingers. My mind goes blank as pleasure explodes in every direction. Curling my toes, my hips continue to rise in wanting. “Please Mads. I need to feel you inside me,” I gasp, head turning to the side as he tries something new that he’s never done before and hits a new level of pleasurable notes inside me. “Oh,” I murmur.

He quickens the motion and I can feel myself reaching the tip of climax, but then he stops and I whimper softly.

Mads sits up on his knees and unbuckles his belt, hastily shedding his pants and all that remained between us. I reach down and take his throbbing hard member in my hand, excited by his size and beyond ready to feel him deep inside me once again. He hisses through his teeth, probably shocked by how cool my hands are, but shudders when he inhales and I give him a teasing squeeze.

“Oh, my heart. No, don’t do that. I want this to last. I want to make you sing. It’s been far too long since I could feel you or taste you. I want to savor this moment,” he says.

He licks his fingers before guiding his hard cock between my legs and stops at my opening to kiss me. Locked in a deep kiss, Mads thrusts deep inside me. A moan rips from me as I feel him for the first time in nearly two years. He pulls back and thrusts again, hips rising and falling as my own rise to meet his. Each thrust brings me right back to that edge and I squeeze myself around him, wanting to take more, as much as he could give.

Mads quickened his pace and I’m done for. Pleasure, warm and throbbing, erupts from my core, I tighten and ride the wave of it as he thrusts his way to climax. He grows more stiff and takes my mouth with his again as he fills me completely. Bodies spent, I lay under him for a time, enjoying his weight as he catches his breath.

It’s like we’ve been transported back in time and we’re in our early twenties again, when the rest of the world didn’t matter, only moments like this. Stolen moments shared in private. Eventually, Mads rolls over and I cuddle up in the crook of his arm. He runs a thumb lazily over my bare arm, our legs and feet intertwined and resting on the cool dirt by the stone fountain.

“Damn,” he says.

“Damn,” I reply, and we both laugh.

He tilts my chin up and kisses me so gently, as if I were the finest porcelain on the verge of breaking—it’s enough to quick start my heart again.

“You really are my Mad King. I mean, you have always been mad for me,” I chide.


Tags: Aria Cole, Mila Crawford Romance