King of Me (15 page)

And I love him…
There was no use trying to deny it anymore. What was the point? I would be dead in a few hours, and there was no one left to impress or fool.

Not even myself.

Taking this journey had finally allowed me to reconcile the conflicting emotions I’d lived with these last few months. Yes, it was possible to simultaneously hate and want a person. Yes, I’d felt compassion and remorse for that man’s plight and suffering, even when I feared him. Yes, my life with him felt like a sick and twisted merry-go-round of epic proportions.

Until now.

Now I knew. King wasn’t one man; he was layers. Light surrounded by a thick layer of darkness. Life encased by death. Scar tissue over a soul that was noble and good.

I felt a deep sense of relief and gratitude.
I got to meet the real man.
And he was beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined.

So what now?

I took a breath and swayed my arms from side to side as there wasn’t much else to do. I had no magical transportation or…

Wait. Yes, I do.
I had the damned bracelet. I could go back.

But what if…what if I returned to that horror I’d left? That monster’s hands all over my body, my wrists burning as I tried to break free, the absolute nightmare of knowing I’d once again miscalculated King and his aptitude for cruelty.

You have to choose.

I still wore the bracelet on my right wrist; it might lead me home. But would I return to a scene of unspeakable violence, or find that King had changed all our fates and so return to a completely different future? And if different, would I lose those memories most precious to me? Surprisingly, those moments weren’t the big events—graduation, first kiss, or landing the dream job. They were the small breaths in between the noise: Justin crying in my arms when he was five with a split knee on the playground, the tears pouring from his little red face because he thought he’d die from the cut. It was the first moment in my life I remembered feeling that I mattered. I was this person’s big sister. I could make it all better with a simple hug and a few reassurances. I had wiped away his tears with the back of my hand and told him what he needed to hear. Within a few minutes, the bleeding stopped and Justin was swinging without a care in the world. Then he became a man, one with a heart bigger than anyone I’d ever met. I was his sister, his to protect and pick back up when she got knocked down.

Once again, though, I mattered. To him, anyway. I was the piece of the puzzle in his life that made him feel like
he
mattered. It was why he’d once ended up in the hospital when we were in high school. All because I’d had a bad day and decided to blow off a bunch of steam at a party. Tequila. More tequila. And…them—a bunch of fucking idiots who weren’t going to take no for an answer. Justin was there for me, and they beat him within an inch of his life.

I swore in that moment that I’d never again put the people I loved in danger, because my only worth in this world was when I did the saving. Perhaps Justin, too, felt that way. Perhaps…I really didn’t know, but maybe that was why he’d gone to such horrible lengths to free Jamie from her prison with Vaughn. In my heart, that didn’t make up for the things people say he did to me, but in some messed-up way, I could understand how his need to be the hero was his Achilles’ heel.

Because that was mine. I was the idiot who would do anything to save her baby brother. And now King. It was the only goddamned thing on this planet that I ever felt good at.

Yet, here you are…needing to be saved. Great job, Mia.

After days or hours passed, I didn’t know, I finally arrived to the point where my body burned from the chill. My legs and feet cramped, and my shoulders ached from swaying my arms. I wouldn’t last much longer.

Dagger or bracelet?

I’d rather die than get sent back and let King hurt me.
It was the God’s honest truth.

I slipped the dagger free from the sheath tied to my thigh and gripped it in my hand. Could I do this, could I drive it into my chest?

I’d died once before, when King had stopped my heart, and it wasn’t like people say. The anticipation, the body’s will to fight, is far more traumatizing than the actual event. The actual dying felt like drifting off to sleep. And when the ring I’d worn—that giant solitaire diamond given to me by King—brought me back to life, it felt like waking right back up. Point was, I wasn’t afraid of dying.

This is the only sane choice, Mia. The only one.
All other options left me to either drown or go back to where I came from—maybe.

I lifted the dagger, but suddenly saw an image of King, his electric blue eyes filled with disapproval and a scowl on those beautiful, strong lips. I could practically hear him yelling at me for giving up.

Fuck
. He was right. And more than anything I wanted to see him just one last time. I promised myself that if I did, I wouldn’t hold back. A life where you didn’t follow your heart wasn’t a life. And sometimes you just had to make the leap and trust in something that didn’t make sense.

Hang on, Mia. Hang on. He’ll come for you.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

No two deaths are alike. That was my conclusion. How were they different? It was hard to articulate. When I’d died the first time, King had literally gone inside my body and stopped my heart. It was an eerie frightening feeling, the terror diluted by the knowledge that he was doing it out of concern for my well-being—so I’d thought—and that I, barring any unforeseen snags with the ring, would come back. Fully intact. Fully me. There was also a tiny part of my brain that quietly rejoiced in the sensation of his soul or light, or whateverthehell you call it, moving around inside my shell. Yes, it also hurt like a sonofabitch, too, because of his curse. However, there was an undeniable tickle of erotic delight from being so intimate with such a wicked sexy bastard. Call me sick, I know. Of course, that was before…he hurt me.

This death, though, was so very, very different. Drowning was lonely. It hurt. And there was no secret pleasure or intimacy of a man’s touch. It felt like being ripped from my skin while my insides pulsed with life, every nerve ending scorching with nonexistent fire. My bleeding soul and oxygen-deprived muscles screamed in agony. Had I been sent to hell?

Shit. Shit
, I thought.
This can’t be happening.

“Mia, wake the
fuck
up, woman.” I heard a deep masculine voice plunge through my misery and a sharp sting on my cheek. “Do you hear me? You wake the hell up this instant, or by gods I will…”

Slowly, I peeled open my eyes.

Blue. Blue…so much blue.
There was the bright heavenly sky above and the sanctuary of cobalt orbs staring down.

“King?” I whispered.

“Yes, it is I. Your king.”

I blinked. “Did you say ‘fuck’?”

He growled. “Foolish Seer. Why did you attempt to kill Hagne?”

I wiggled my toes and fingers. The cool air and warm sand on my back felt real.

“Where are we?” I asked.

Inches above my face, King brushed the wet hair back from my forehead and beamed. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“But…I drowned. I…”

“No. You nearly drowned.” Deep conflict shimmered in his eyes.

I coughed violently for a few moments and then flung my head back, panting. “Who the hell put a well there?”

“Who the Hades knows? But what were you thinking?”

“I couldn’t let her ruin you.”

“So you meant to stab her with this?” He reached to my side and plucked a shiny object from the sand.

“Something like that.”

“This is the dagger of Potnia. If left inside the body, it is said to mimic the appearance of death, but merely puts a person to sleep.”

Oh, great. Nap, Hagne?
“It was the only weapon I could find. So it was either that or claw her to death. But I would’ve done it. I’m not letting her win.”

He stared affectionately into my eyes for several long moments. “You are mad, Mia. Mad and beautiful.”

Slowly, I brought myself to my elbows and looked around. We were alone on the quiet beach just outside of the cave’s mouth. “How did you find me?”

He slid his large, rough hand over my “K” tattoo. “I believe this drew me to you. I felt your anguish, as if you were calling to me.” His eyes filled with distress. “The moment I returned, I confronted Hagne, but she would not disclose where you were. However, by the grace of the gods, I felt the pull. I followed, and it led me straight to you.” He cupped the side of my cheek. “I cannot remove you from my thoughts, Mia. Awake or asleep, I see only you.” He unexpectedly slammed his lips to mine and plunged his tongue between my lips, thrusting in and sliding out at a slow, sensual pace.

My body, already wet and now growing warm from the sun, instantly grew hotter and wetter. His mouth felt like everything to me. Life, love, and need. I slid my hand behind his neck and urged him to deepen the kiss. Perhaps it was a signal, too, of what my body really wanted: him, me, as close as we could get.

I wasn’t going to let this chance go. Not for anything.

Arched over me, King’s large body hovered, as if reluctant to take what it wanted.

I moved my hand to the small of his bare back and pulled him in toward my hips. I hoped he wouldn’t hesitate to accept my offer.

He didn’t.

Within the space of a breath, he moved on top, our tongues colliding and lashing, our teeth bumping. Our bodies ignited and hands clawed to get closer to each other. He tore away the top of my wet dress as I clumsily broke the small metal clasp at his waist and freed his lower torso.

Within seconds, our bodies were naked, and he slid his muscled lean frame between my legs. Needing to touch him, I reached down and found his insanely thick long shaft. A groan emanating from deep within his chest erupted from his parted full lips when I gripped him firmly and began stroking. I wanted to drive him so close to the edge that he’d be begging me for it, that there’d be no chance of him turning back.

I reached for his sensual lips with mine and found that hot, wet tongue ready, just like his magnificent cock, the heat spurring me on.

I ran my thumb over his tip, finding a delicious drop of moisture, which I spread over his silky head in little circles.

King tilted his face toward the sky. “Damn, woman, what you do to me.”

I reached with my free hand and snaked it behind his neck to pull his salacious lips back to my mouth. But instead of delivering those sweet, wet, and sinful kisses I longed for, his head moved down to my chest.

Staring at me with those piercing blue eyes, his mouth opened and covered the erect tip of my breast. He began to suck hard, and I began to pant harder. Watching him take my nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling rapidly over that sensitive skin, nearly brought me over the edge.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I just couldn’t. Foreplay was for people who needed to warm up, who didn’t feel comfortable acknowledging their sexual hunger, or who had all the time in the world. We fit none of these.

I firmly gripped his shoulders. “Please?”

A carnal smile spread across his lips, but he didn’t obey. Instead, his hand slid down between my thighs and began stroking. The moment his fingers penetrated me, I flung my head back and gripped handfuls of sand.

“I must ensure you are ready. I do not wish to hurt you.”

“I’m ready,” I panted. “I’m ready.” In fact, I was about to orgasm. “Please…”

“If you insist.” He kissed his way up my torso, and the moment his hard cock was within reach, I had it in my hand, guiding it toward my entrance.

He quickly gripped my wrists and pinned them above my head. “I do not require any encouragement.” Hips slightly raised, he laid the massive bulk of his body over mine and kissed me deeply for several long moments. The anticipation was torture.

He broke from my mouth and kissed the side of my neck, still pinning my arms over my head.

“Oh my God, please. Please…”

He lifted his head and stared into my eyes. “Please what?” he said with a husky voice saturated with sex.

I wanted to say, “Fuck me hard with your thick long cock,” but I didn’t want to shock the poor man with my modern ask-for-what-you-really-want ways. So instead, I simply said, “Fuck me.”

“Is this what you want?” He released my arms, gripped himself in his hand, and began circling the tip of his shaft over my moist entrance teasingly, as if priming his cock for penetration.

“Yes,” I breathed, bringing my hips forward.

He backed off, denying me the end to the sexual torment.

“Don’t do this to me. Please, King, I’m begging you…”

“If you are begging…” He slowly thrust his hard shaft between my legs and gazed deeply into my eyes. Everything became so damned clear. There was no separation of time when it came to love; it saw the past and future in one blinding light. And I’d never let go of that light. Not ever.

“Yes,” I panted.

King thrust himself inside me once more, his hypnotic blue gaze never leaving me. I cupped his face and opened myself as far as I could, wanting to savor the feeling of his thick rigid flesh driving into me, of his body inside mine.

“Harder,” I panted, knowing this might be our one and only chance. “Fuck me harder.”

He smiled with that wickedly wolfish grin I now knew like the back of my hand. “I’d never fuck you, Mia.” He thrust himself so deeply that it stole my breath. “Only love.”

Tears filled my eyes, forcing me to close them from the intensity of the emotion and pleasure while King pounded away, pushing us toward a brilliant light filled with ecstasy. Again and again, he moved his large cock in and out until my body couldn’t help release that erotic tension in one giant rapturous explosion.

I drove my fingertips into his taut tanned back and cried out. He slid his large hands beneath me and cupped my ass, allowing him to drive his cock deeper, to hit that special spot head-on, igniting me once more. I moaned for him while he slid and grunted, coming hard inside me.