The Fearless King (The Kings #2)(57)

Frank Evans was jealous.

She hid her grin, enjoying the fluttering feeling in her chest entirely too much. “I prefer to fuck behind closed doors under normal circumstances.” She let go of him and leaned back to prop her hands on the counter behind her, well aware of the wanton picture she painted. Her apron strings tangled between her breasts, and the rest of it was in a ball against her side, leaving her pussy exposed as well, his fingers still inside her. “Though I’m considering changing my policy. This is sexy as hell.”

“Fuck. That.” He pulled his fingers out of her, but she barely had a chance to mourn the loss when his cock was there, shoving into her roughly.

She laughed. She couldn’t help it. He looked so damn furious, the temptation to keep screwing with him was too much to ignore. He deserved it after that bullshit comment about not wanting this. Journey pressed hard against the hand he still had clasped around the back of her neck. “Do you think the boys would like this, Frank? Because I sure as hell do.”

He looped an arm around her waist and yanked her almost off the counter. “No one else, Duchess.” He fisted the front of her apron, using it as leverage to fuck her harder.

“Or what?” He slammed into her, grinding them together, and she bit back a moan. It would be easy to just give in, to let him steamroll her. He’d made it so good for her…and then she’d fling herself right back into uncertainty afterward. If Frank felt enough to be jealous, then he was in just as deep as she was.

And, damn it, she wanted him to admit it.

Journey reached up and hooked the back of his neck, mirroring the way he held her. She arched up so she could whisper in his ear. “Or what, Frank? From where I’m sitting, all you’ve done is tell me how much you don’t want this—don’t want me. You don’t do complicated and you don’t do broken, and we both know I’m both.” She hitched a breath, her breasts rubbing against his chest. “I might forget my pride when I’m around you, but there’s only so long I’m going to beat my head against this particular wall. This might be the last time, it might not be, but eventually I will move on to someone who actually wants me.” She nipped his earlobe. “And when I do, I’m going to ride his cock until he sees stars and worships the ground I walk on.”

He leaned back. On anyone else, his expression would be called a grin, but Journey knew better. It was a warning, the same way a wild animal flashed its teeth before it attacked. “You’ll be bored within a week, and you’ll break the poor fuck’s heart in the process.”

She went to smack him, but he caught her wrist easily—and then captured her other one to pin them both against the small of her back. This hadn’t been what she intended when she baited him, but she was in too deep to go back now. “Yeah, well, that’s my choice.”

“Wrong, Duchess. I’m your choice and you damn well know it.” He rolled his hips, rubbing against the spot on her inner wall that drew a whimper from her lips. “It makes you crazy that you want me.” Frank lifted her, keeping her wrists pinned, and walked Journey to the dining room table they’d eaten at the night before. He shoved the centerpiece out of the way and laid her onto the cool wood. “About as crazy as it makes me wanting you.” He withdrew from her, and the sound of a chair scraping over the hardwood floor was the only warning she got before he sat at the head of the table—right between her spread thighs.

*



Frank took out all of his frustration on Journey’s pussy. He fucked her with his tongue the way he needed to fuck her with his cock. He wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly what she was trying to pull with that little stunt with the condom and throwing the idea of other men in his face. It didn’t matter if the idea of her with someone else drove him out of his fucking mind. It couldn’t matter. He liked her entirely too much, a sensation that undermined his control simply by breathing the same air as her.

To feel more?

That way lay ruin.

He gave himself over to punishing her with his mouth, letting her know in no uncertain terms that for the time they were together, her pleasure was his to deliver. But when she came with a cry loud enough to rattle the windows, it only made the turmoil inside him worse. Because it wasn’t enough.

He wasn’t sure it would ever be enough.

Frank shoved to his feet and kicked the chair out of the way. He guided his cock into her and reached up to bracket her throat. “No one else, Duchess,” he repeated.

Those hazel eyes saw right through all his bullshit to the wild thing beneath his skin. She called to part of him on a fundamental level that he didn’t know how to deal with. Journey licked her lips and pressed her throat more firmly against his palm. “I’ll consider it.”

His control snapped. Frank gripped her hip with his free hand, pinning her in place as he fucked her slowly, letting her feel every inch of him in torturous detail. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Do you?” She swallowed hard enough that he felt it. “Prove it.”

“You want me to fuck you hard enough to break this table. To drive you out of your damn mind and leave marks all over your body that will have you walking funny for a week.”

She grinned. “Come on, you know that sounds like a dream.”

“Not this time.” He kept up the slow strokes. “You aren’t in control, Duchess. It’s time you remembered that.” He narrowed his eyes at her hands gripping the edge of the table. “Over your head.”