The Fearless King (The Kings #2)(41)



Journey buried her face in the comforter and sobbed as she came. Her orgasm swept away every single thought in her head, leaving only blessed silence, and still it wasn’t enough. She arched back against Frank, tilting her hips until he hit that delicious spot inside her with every thrust, needing him to take the dive off this particular cliff with her. “Come inside me, Frank, I want to feel you.”

He cursed against her skin, and his entire body went taut. As if she’d drawn his orgasm out of him against his will simply by commanding it. He shifted to collapse half on top of her but where he wouldn’t crush her. “How the hell can I have just come and already want you again?”

“I don’t know.” She turned in his arms and took one of his hands to press it between her thighs. “But keep touching me.” She caught her breath as he slid two fingers into her. “Yes, like that.”

He stroked her lazily, his gaze never leaving her face. “I have an hour, Duchess.”

She toppled him onto his back and straddled him, riding his fingers even as she leaned down to kiss him. For the first time in months, Journey felt something close to the woman she’d fought so hard to become. It was an illusion, but a welcome one all the same. She shifted to nibble on his square jaw. “How many of those condoms do you have stashed?”

His lips quirked. “Three.”

“Then let’s put them to good use.”





Chapter Twelve



Frank checked himself in the mirror to ensure he hadn’t missed a button. The image reflected was almost enough to have him canceling his meeting with Mateo and climbing back into bed with Journey. She lay propped against the headboard, her legs tangled with the sheet and her breasts unabashedly bare. She glanced up from her phone and met his gaze, a small smile tugging at the edges of her lips. “That was some afternoon delight.”

Afternoon delight.

Such a quaint description for something that wasn’t the least bit quaint. He and Journey had come together like a hurricane meeting a tsunami, a clash so intense, it was a surprise the hotel still stood around them. His gaze traced the faint marks on her chest from his mouth, the slightest bruise from his hands on the one thigh he could see…Fuck.

He never lost control.

He couldn’t afford to, not when he knew all too well what lay down that path. His mother’s face flashed through his mind, her lively smile dimmed and her body ravaged by the sickness she was too broken to even try fighting, her eyes harsh with the truth that life never hesitated to kick someone like them when they were down. All because she’d loved his father so fucking much, losing him had meant losing a part of herself that she could never reclaim. That was the result of letting lust slip its leash.

The result of love.

Heartbreak that made it impossible for her to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Heartbreak his father had caused when he became just another Icarus who thought he could have it all without paying the price that power cost.

Journey already teetered on the edge. If Frank wasn’t careful, he’d be the reason she tipped past the point of no return—and took him down with her.

She must have seen something on his face because her expression fell and she went back to her phone. “Call me when you figure out the next step?”

Shit. He didn’t know how to do this. He wasn’t used to walking on eggshells for fear of damaging the people around him. Frank’s team might have come to him while they were down and out, but they could all haul their own weight—together and individually—and he never had to fear that a sharp word would do more than give them pause. He cleared his throat. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

“No.” She didn’t look up from her phone. “Samara and I are meeting for drinks—not at Cocoa’s, so you don’t have to worry about running into me and having to play the part. I’m not going to get in the way of your investigation. Well, I’m not going to get in the way any more than I already have.” She typed out something, a small line appearing between her strong brows. “I realize that playing my therapist wasn’t part of the plan, so you’ll be fairly compensated.”

He was across the room before he registered his intent to move. Frank propped his hands on either side of her body and leaned down. When she still didn’t look up, he growled. “Stop doing that.”

“Stop what?” Something horrifying like a quiver shivered through her voice. “I’m trying to retreat behind the already-established lines. Thank you for grounding me, but since you made your opinion of me more than clear, I will do my best to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”

He simultaneously wanted to kiss her and throw something. “Journey, look at me.”

Slowly, oh so slowly, she raised her gaze. Her hazel eyes shone too brightly, but none of her obvious distress showed elsewhere on her face. He didn’t touch her, but he didn’t back off, either. “I don’t make a habit of mixing business with pleasure, but you’re hardly a burden. If you didn’t notice, I was in this bed with you as an active participant.” He clasped her chin, tilting her face up to meet his. “I said I don’t pity fuck, Duchess, and it’s the truth. So you can get that thought right out of that busy brain of yours. I wouldn’t have declared my intent to get you into my bed if I didn’t mean it. Did I intend for it to happen like this? No. Am I going to let you retreat behind that wall you’re building as fast as you can? Fuck no.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

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