Mack (King #4)

He smells like a sexy badass.

He continued, “And since the 10 Club members believe you’re King’s plaything, well, I thought you could help me perfect that part of my image, too.”

My stomach began to fill with dangerous, hot little sparks. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Why don’t you tell me?” He moved a warm hand to the back of my neck.

“Looking at you, seeing you alive makes every inch of my body ache. In a good way.” That was pretty weak compared to how I truly felt.

“Then why did you try to forget me?” There was a flicker of hurt in his eyes.

I could only offer him my best guess. “I think I lost hope.”

“Whatever the reason, it’s time to move forward.” He released me, took my hand, and tugged me into the living room, pushing me to sit on my white sofa. He then kneeled his large, well-built frame in front of me.

“Do it. Take it away,” he said.

It took me a moment to realize what he was asking. He finally wanted me to heal him, and for me, there was simply nothing in this world I wanted more. Than him, of course.

I studied Mack’s new face. It was fucking beautiful. No. Beautiful was the wrong word. Beautiful was a flower or a sunset. His face was exquisite and masculine, and I still couldn’t fully believe all this was real.

But it is…

“Okay. Here goes.” From this moment on, he and I would be starting our life together. Not completely free of the past, but we’d be together and…well…uncursed. Hey, that was pretty nice.

I placed my hands on either side of his neck, beginning to focus on that little warm light.

“Wait. I’m not going to forget you, am I?” he asked.

I gave it a moment of thought. That light seemed to have a will all its own when it came to determining what a person needed, but I’d helped King lighten the load of his torment, and he turned out fine—more or less.

“I think we just have to see what will happen,” I said. “But don’t worry. If you forget me, I’ll remind you.” I leaned forward, threading my hand into his thick, soft, dark hair, and kissed him. Our lips melded, our tongues mingled, and I didn’t know about him, but my heart began to accelerate. And somewhere in the back of my mind, it all felt familiar. Perhaps it was a vague memory of our first kiss over three thousand years ago in that small smoky hut somewhere in the jungle when he’d been a stranger from another land and captured my heart, when I had been willing to leave everything behind and risk my life just for the chance to be with him. I still felt the same.

It didn’t take long for our kiss, with him still kneeling in front of the couch and me pulling him closer between my legs, to turn into a frenzy of want and need. He’d left me several weeks ago after I thought I’d lost him forever, and I’d been waiting not-so-patiently to release my bottled-up tension.

I broke the kiss and quickly slid off his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, and then helped him shrug it off along with his blazer. His well-defined chest and arms and rippling abs were too incredible for words, except for… “Wow. I think I like this body even better.”

He flashed a charming smile that produced little divots in his stubbly cheeks that instantly got me thinking about one thing and one thing only.

I stood up and pulled my white knit work blouse over my head and then quickly wiggled out of my slacks and underwear.

Still kneeling, Mack gazed up at me with those hungry eyes. “Once again, if I’d only known that showing you my manly abs would get me into your pants this fast, I would’ve led with that.”

I chuckled and sat back down on the couch, pulling him between my thighs. He frantically unbuckled his belt and freed his hard cock. I glanced down at the thing, remembering how it looked when he first appeared at the burial site in his birthday suit. It had gotten much bigger.

“Geez. Is that larger than your last body?”

He shrugged proudly and then gripped my hips and slid me forward, a wolfish grin on his face.

Ohgod. I needed him so badly. He had no idea. Or maybe he did, because he went straight to giving me what I wanted: That large cock inside me.

He took his hard flesh in his hand and watched himself slowly entering, inch by inch, inside me, coaxing a soft moan from my mouth. He felt so incredible—the way he filled me so completely, the way he took pleasure in watching his shaft slide inside and connect our bodies, the way he looked at me with those eyes.

Once inside completely, he pressed his hands on the crease of my thighs and then pulled out again, ever so slowly. This was a slow kind of blissful torture, erotic as hell.

I moaned again as he repeated the act, savoring the slow burn of our bodies touching so intimately.

“No more, please. You’re going to drive me mad.”

“You want me to stop?”

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