N9ne: The Tale of Kevin Clearwater (King, #9)(63)

“How did that feel?” Nine asks, coming to stand behind me. He rests his arm protectively over my shoulder.

I laugh. “Magical.”

Nine looks over his shoulder. “Shit,” He tosses our beers to the ground and grabs my hand.

“What’s wrong?” I ask as he pulls me away toward the back of the fairground.

“That’s what’s wrong,” he says, pointing with his eyes.

I look over my shoulder to where the crowd is parting to make way for several uniformed men, pushing their way through the crowd while barking at people to stand aside. The light overhead catches the metal of their badges, sending rays of light bouncing off the crowd. Cops.

“Shit!” I repeat Nine’s swear.

He grabs my hand and pulls. “Come on!”

And together, we run.



* * *



We emerge from the overgrowth of the preserve behind the fairgrounds onto a tiny secluded beach with a view of the entire Logan’s beach shoreline. Lights twinkle in the distance just as the stars do in the clear night sky overhead.

The energy in the air crackles all around us, pulling us together like wayward magnets destined to be one.

I don’t even have time to comment on the amazing view because Nine charges me, pushing his fingers through my hair and covering my mouth with his. Hungry lips. Seeking. Claiming. Eager. Desperate.

My hands wrap around his neck, and I pull him even closer, pressing my chest to his and groaning into his mouth, giving as much as I’m taking and more.

It isn’t just lips on lips. This isn’t even a kiss. This is ownership. Primal. Real.

Body. Heart. Soul.

He pulls back to lift my shirt over my head. I lift his, but I’m too short to lift his so I settle for pushing my hands under his shirt and feeling the warmth of the hard muscles beneath.

He pushes my hands away and lifts me up off the sand. He settles me down on top of my shirt. He pushes my skirt up to my waist and pushes my legs apart, positioning himself on his knees between them. He covers my body with his, only his jeans and my panties separating us.

His lips again find mine. We’re all need and desperation and tongue. Pleasure I never knew was possible sparks inside of me as he moves his mouth from my lips to my neck and then lower still, sucking and licking on my nipple until I’m writhing so hard I’m digging myself into the sand beneath me. I feel his hard length between us behind his jeans and when the outline of his erection grazes the thin scrap of lace between my legs I’m lost to the sensation that courses through my body.

Every inch of me wants to be touched and possessed by this man. The one who protects me when he doesn’t have a valid reason. The one who tries and makes an actual effort to understand me and my anxiety. The one who gave me closure when I had none. The one who thinks he’s not worthy of me when I realize now that it’s the furthest thing from the truth.

He is worthy, and if he doesn’t believe it, then I’ll just have to show him.

“I want you,” Nine groans. He snakes his hand between us and pushes up my skirt even higher so that my panties are exposed. He pulls the lace to one side. When his long, thick finger connects with my wet and sensitive flesh I moan, arching my back, needing more. His finger enters me and his lips find mine once more. He strokes me from the inside in rhythm with his tongue stroking mine. His cock hardens even more. “I’ve always wanted you.”

“So, take me.” I reach down and unhook his belt, then use my heels to push down his jeans. He pulls my panties down my thighs, and suddenly, it’s his heat against mine. He’s huge, even bigger than feeling him between our clothes suggested. I thought he was joking about the whole being bigger than nine inches thing but it turns out he was telling the truth all along. He rubs his thick shaft through my wetness and against my clit in slow torturous strokes. Teasing me, bringing me to the edge.

As amazing as it feels, I want more of him. All of him.

As if reading my mind, he asks. “What do you want, Len?”

I gasp at the intensity of the moment. At the pure panic and joy that hits me all at once. I swallow hard and wrap my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. “I want you. I want everything.”

He growls and the sound sends another bolt of pleasure through me. He lines the head of his cock with my entrance and my insides pulse and grasp at nothing, eager for him to be inside of me.

Nine’s breathing heavily as if he’s trying to maintain some kind of control. He drops his forehead to mine. His voice is raspy and filled with lust and need that mirrors my own. “Is this what you want? You want all of me inside of you?”

“Yes!” The cry has barely left my lips when he surges forward, giving me everything I asked for and a whole lot. I’m stretched as far as I can possibly stretch without tearing in two. I close my eyes tightly as he pushes deeper and deeper until I’m sure I’m about to break. It hurts. Goddamn, it hurts.

“Relax, don’t tense up. Let me make you feel good.”

My forehead breaks out in sweat, but I refuse to say or do anything that would make him stop. I take a deep breath and try to relax and it works, some of the pressure eases.

“Fuck, you’re so damn tight,” he groans. “Spread your legs. Let me in.”

I do as he asks, spreading my legs as wide as they will go, relaxing my muscles, and giving him access to every part of me.