A Nordic King(67)

My eyes widen.

My god.

This damn dirty Dane.

“You taste like dessert,” he says, his accent thickening, before his mouth crashes against mine again. I'm salty, musky, slightly sweet as his tongue probes further against mine, whipping up my desire to the boiling point. This is already the hottest thing I've ever experienced and I’ve been with some pretty sexy French men before.

Before I know what's happening, he's pushing me back, his large, lean body looming over me. “Get on the floor,” he commands, his voice husky and rich, screaming of sex, screaming of power.

I gladly drop down to my knees on the thick wool rug, staring up at him while he quickly removes his t-shirt and yanks down his pajama pants. Now, he’s naked.

Completely naked.

His sculpted, lean upper body leads to a six-pack, and those V dips to his hips which leads to…

Wow.

That’s one hell of a Danish dick.

I know I've felt it before, its mass crushed against me while we kissed, I know I readied myself for it the other day, but now that it's in front of me, it's fucking dangerous looking.

A royal weapon.

I can barely take my eyes away from his cock to look up at him. Of course, he looks smug—he always looks smug—but there's a sense of wonder in his eyes, like he can't believe this is happening.

That makes two of us.

This is it.

There is no going back.

Since I'm already on my knees and I'm salivating for the taste of him, I grab his firm ass with one hand, my fingernails digging in as I tug him toward me. With my other hand I grasp his cock at the base, making a ring around it. I’m bold as hell and he's so goddamn hard, it's like silky velvet steel. I can feel the hot blood rushing underneath, the way it tics with each strong beat of his heart.

I close my eyes and tentatively slide my tongue along the sensitive underside before circling his crown, dark and lush, licking at the precum. The salt hits my tongue, revving my desire for him to another level.

I think he’s going to hit all my damn levels tonight.

His hand goes into my hair, pulling lightly, and he groans as I try and take him all into my mouth.

“If you keep doing that, you’ll ruin me,” he says breathlessly. “I don’t want you to ruin me without me ruining you first.”

He pulls his wet cock away from my mouth and glances down at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “Turn around.”

I don’t want to stop staring at his beautiful naked body or the raw, hungry look on his face. But sacrifices must be made.

My heart is pumping hard in my head as I pivot around on the floor on all fours. He drops to his knees behind me, and I hold my breath, waiting for his touch. The bed is right there and yet I love that he’s going to fuck me on this rug, like we can’t wait, like we’re uncivilized animals in this palace of gold.

Swiftly he lifts up my nightshirt until it's bunched around my waist, then grabs my ass, squeezing hard so I stay in place. I flinch, the pressure from his fingertips firm, and yet the moment he yields, I want it even more.

He pulls me toward him as he positions himself, and with one swift jerk, shoves my underwear to the side and pushes into me. The air is expelled from my chest as he fills me, a gasp broken on my lips.

“How do you feel?” he asks, shuddering the words as he pushes himself fully inside.

How do I feel?

I can’t speak.

I can’t think.

I can only feel every single inch of his hard cock as I squeeze around him.

I try and nod, get my breath.

Oh my god.

How is he real?

His grip around my ass tightens—I feel like he might leave bruises.

“I can’t promise I’ll be refined and I can’t promise I’ll hold back,” he says through a gruff moan. “Just as long as you promise you won’t hold back either.”

Bloody hell. What am I getting into?

Everything you’ve ever wanted.

“Does that sound good, Miss Aurora?” he asks, his voice thick and brimming with lust. “Can you handle that duty?”

Oh god, yes, give me all the dirty talk, give me all the naughty boss scenarios.

He pauses, slowly pulling out in such a teasing, languid way that it’s torturous. I feel hollow, aching for him. I want him to fill me up and up and up, like a balloon ready to burst.

“Fuck me, Your Majesty,” I tell him and, to my complete surprise, his hand cracks across my ass with a loud, painful slap.

“Yes,” he hisses, and then he’s pounding into me, driving his dick in fast and deep and relentless. Over and over and over again, this breakneck pace that has me trying to hang on to the rug for dear life, my breasts jiggling with each quick, hard thrust.

“How does my cock make you feel? Dirty?” he asks through a husky groan. “How dirty do you want it?”

Oh god, I don’t even know what to say. My words fall from my mouth in a garble. All I can get out is: Yes.

More.

Right there.

Harder, please.

Please, sir.

His pumps become quicker, deeper, and messy, like he’s losing control and going over the edge, taking me with him. I’ve never had a man in so deep like this, not just inside me but inside my head. Aksel has taken up residency there from the very first moment we met. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted and everything I shouldn’t have and he’s fucking me like we might lose everything tomorrow, like we won’t even be here tomorrow.