KING OF ME (THE KING TRILOGY Book 3)

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  Once again, though, I mattered. To him, anyway. I was the piece of the puzzle in his life that made him feel like he mattered. It was why he’d once ended up in the hospital when we were in high school. All because I’d had a bad day and decided to blow off a bunch of steam at a party. Tequila. More tequila. And…them—a bunch of fucking idiots who weren’t going to take no for an answer. Justin was there for me, and they beat him within an inch of his life.

  I swore in that moment that I’d never again put the people I loved in danger, because my only worth in this world was when I did the saving. Perhaps Justin, too, felt that way. Perhaps…I really didn’t know, but maybe that was why he’d gone to such horrible lengths to free Jamie from her prison with Vaughn. In my heart, that didn’t make up for the things people say he did to me, but in some messed-up way, I could understand how his need to be the hero was his Achilles’ heel.

  Because that was mine. I was the idiot who would do anything to save her baby brother. And now King. It was the only goddamned thing on this planet that I ever felt good at.

  Yet, here you are…needing to be saved. Great job, Mia.

  After days or hours passed, I didn’t know, I finally arrived to the point where my body burned from the chill. My legs and feet cramped, and my shoulders ached from swaying my arms. I wouldn’t last much longer.

  Dagger or bracelet?

  I’d rather die than get sent back and let King hurt me. It was the God’s honest truth.

  I slipped the dagger free from the sheath tied to my thigh and gripped it in my hand. Could I do this, could I drive it into my chest?

  I’d died once before, when King had stopped my heart, and it wasn’t like people say. The anticipation, the body’s will to fight, is far more traumatizing than the actual event. The actual dying felt like drifting off to sleep. And when the ring I’d worn—that giant solitaire diamond given to me by King—brought me back to life, it felt like waking right back up. Point was, I wasn’t afraid of dying.

  This is the only sane choice, Mia. The only one. All other options left me to either drown or go back to where I came from—maybe.

  I lifted the dagger, but suddenly saw an image of King, his electric blue eyes filled with disapproval and a scowl on those beautiful, strong lips. I could practically hear him yelling at me for giving up.

  Fuck. He was right. And more than anything I wanted to see him just one last time. I promised myself that if I did, I wouldn’t hold back. A life where you didn’t follow your heart wasn’t a life. And sometimes you just had to make the leap and trust in something that didn’t make sense.

  Hang on, Mia. Hang on. He’ll come for you.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  No two deaths are alike. That was my conclusion. How were they different? It was hard to articulate. When I’d died the first time, King had literally gone inside my body and stopped my heart. It was an eerie frightening feeling, the terror diluted by the knowledge that he was doing it out of concern for my well-being—so I’d thought—and that I, barring any unforeseen snags with the ring, would come back. Fully intact. Fully me. There was also a tiny part of my brain that quietly rejoiced in the sensation of his soul or light, or whateverthehell you call it, moving around inside my shell. Yes, it also hurt like a sonofabitch, too, because of his curse. However, there was an undeniable tickle of erotic delight from being so intimate with such a wicked sexy bastard. Call me sick, I know. Of course, that was before…he hurt me.

  This death, though, was so very, very different. Drowning was lonely. It hurt. And there was no secret pleasure or intimacy of a man’s touch. It felt like being ripped from my skin while my insides pulsed with life, every nerve ending scorching with nonexistent fire. My bleeding soul and oxygen-deprived muscles screamed in agony. Had I been sent to hell?

  Shit. Shit, I thought. This can’t be happening.

  “Mia, wake the fuck up, woman.” I heard a deep masculine voice plunge through my misery and a sharp sting on my cheek. “Do you hear me? You wake the hell up this instant, or by gods I will…”

  Slowly, I peeled open my eyes.

  Blue. Blue…so much blue. There was the bright heavenly sky above and the sanctuary of cobalt orbs staring down.

  “King?” I whispered.

  “Yes, it is I. Your king.”

  I blinked. “Did you say ‘fuck’?”

  He growled. “Foolish Seer. Why did you attempt to kill Hagne?”

  I wiggled my toes and fingers. The cool air and warm sand on my back felt real.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  Inches above my face, King brushed the wet hair back from my forehead and beamed. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  “But…I drowned. I…”

  “No. You nearly drowned.” Deep conflict shimmered in his eyes.

  I coughed violently for a few moments and then flung my head back, panting. “Who the hell put a well there?”

  “Who the Hades knows? But what were you thinking?”

  “I couldn’t let her ruin you.”

  “So you meant to stab her with this?” He reached to my side and plucked a shiny object from the sand.

  “Something like that.”

  “This is the dagger of Potnia. If left inside the body, it is said to mimic the appearance of death, but merely puts a person to sleep.”

  Oh, great. Nap, Hagne? “It was the only weapon I could find. So it was either that or claw her to death. But I would’ve done it. I’m not letting her win.”

  He stared affectionately into my eyes for several long moments. “You are mad, Mia. Mad and beautiful.”

  Slowly, I brought myself to my elbows and looked around. We were alone on the quiet beach just outside of the cave’s mouth. “How did you find me?”

  He slid his large, rough hand over my “K” tattoo. “I believe this drew me to you. I felt your anguish, as if you were calling to me.” His eyes filled with distress. “The moment I returned, I confronted Hagne, but she would not disclose where you were. However, by the grace of the gods, I felt the pull. I followed, and it led me straight to you.” He cupped the side of my cheek. “I cannot remove you from my thoughts, Mia. Awake or asleep, I see only you.” He unexpectedly slammed his lips to mine and plunged his tongue between my lips, thrusting in and sliding out at a slow, sensual pace.

  My body, already wet and now growing warm from the sun, instantly grew hotter and wetter. His mouth felt like everything to me. Life, love, and need. I slid my hand behind his neck and urged him to deepen the kiss. Perhaps it was a signal, too, of what my body really wanted: him, me, as close as we could get.

  I wasn’t going to let this chance go. Not for anything.

  Arched over me, King’s large body hovered, as if reluctant to take what it wanted.

  I moved my hand to the small of his bare back and pulled him in toward my hips. I hoped he wouldn’t hesitate to accept my offer.

  He didn’t.

  Within the space of a breath, he moved on top, our tongues colliding and lashing, our teeth bumping. Our bodies ignited and hands clawed to get closer to each other. He tore away the top of my wet dress as I clumsily broke the small metal clasp at his waist and freed his lower torso.

  Within seconds, our bodies were naked, and he slid his muscled lean frame between my legs. Needing to touch him, I reached down and found his insanely thick long shaft. A groan emanating from deep within his chest erupted from his parted full lips when I gripped him firmly and began stroking. I wanted to drive him so close to the edge that he’d be begging me for it, that there’d be no chance of him turning back.

  I reached for his sensual lips with mine and found that hot, wet tongue ready, just like his magnificent cock, the heat spurring me on.

  I ran my thumb over his tip, finding a delicious drop of moisture, which I spread over his silky head in little circles.

  King tilted his face toward the sky. “Damn, woman, what you do to me.”

  I reached with my free hand and snaked it behind his neck to pull
his salacious lips back to my mouth. But instead of delivering those sweet, wet, and sinful kisses I longed for, his head moved down to my chest.

  Staring at me with those piercing blue eyes, his mouth opened and covered the erect tip of my breast. He began to suck hard, and I began to pant harder. Watching him take my nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling rapidly over that sensitive skin, nearly brought me over the edge.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I just couldn’t. Foreplay was for people who needed to warm up, who didn’t feel comfortable acknowledging their sexual hunger, or who had all the time in the world. We fit none of these.

  I firmly gripped his shoulders. “Please?”

  A carnal smile spread across his lips, but he didn’t obey. Instead, his hand slid down between my thighs and began stroking. The moment his fingers penetrated me, I flung my head back and gripped handfuls of sand.

  “I must ensure you are ready. I do not wish to hurt you.”

  “I’m ready,” I panted. “I’m ready.” In fact, I was about to orgasm. “Please…”

  “If you insist.” He kissed his way up my torso, and the moment his hard cock was within reach, I had it in my hand, guiding it toward my entrance.

  He quickly gripped my wrists and pinned them above my head. “I do not require any encouragement.” Hips slightly raised, he laid the massive bulk of his body over mine and kissed me deeply for several long moments. The anticipation was torture.

  He broke from my mouth and kissed the side of my neck, still pinning my arms over my head.

  “Oh my God, please. Please…”

  He lifted his head and stared into my eyes. “Please what?” he said with a husky voice saturated with sex.

  I wanted to say, “Fuck me hard with your thick long cock,” but I didn’t want to shock the poor man with my modern ask-for-what-you-really-want ways. So instead, I simply said, “Fuck me.”

  “Is this what you want?” He released my arms, gripped himself in his hand, and began circling the tip of his shaft over my moist entrance teasingly, as if priming his cock for penetration.

  “Yes,” I breathed, bringing my hips forward.

  He backed off, denying me the end to the sexual torment.

  “Don’t do this to me. Please, King, I’m begging you…”

  “If you are begging…” He slowly thrust his hard shaft between my legs and gazed deeply into my eyes. Everything became so damned clear. There was no separation of time when it came to love; it saw the past and future in one blinding light. And I’d never let go of that light. Not ever.

  “Yes,” I panted.

  King thrust himself inside me once more, his hypnotic blue gaze never leaving me. I cupped his face and opened myself as far as I could, wanting to savor the feeling of his thick rigid flesh driving into me, of his body inside mine.

  “Harder,” I panted, knowing this might be our one and only chance. “Fuck me harder.”

  He smiled with that wickedly wolfish grin I now knew like the back of my hand. “I’d never fuck you, Mia.” He thrust himself so deeply that it stole my breath. “Only love.”

  Tears filled my eyes, forcing me to close them from the intensity of the emotion and pleasure while King pounded away, pushing us toward a brilliant light filled with ecstasy. Again and again, he moved his large cock in and out until my body couldn’t help release that erotic tension in one giant rapturous explosion.

  I drove my fingertips into his taut tanned back and cried out. He slid his large hands beneath me and cupped my ass, allowing him to drive his cock deeper, to hit that special spot head-on, igniting me once more. I moaned for him while he slid and grunted, coming hard inside me.

  Moments passed before I even remembered we were lying there in broad daylight, the sun scorching my face, and our bodies covered in slippery, sensual sweat.

  “Holy shit, King,” I panted.

  “Yes,” his chest heaved with exertion, “I am your king. And don’t you ever forget it, woman.”

  I smiled and brushed the sweat-soaked strands of long black hair from his beautifully bronzed face. “Yes. You are.”

  Still inside me and still rock hard, he dropped his head to my chest and slowly began moving.

  “I need more,” he said.

  “Take all you want.” I sighed, gazing up at the beautiful blue sky, three thousand years in the past, knowing that all the pain and suffering had led me to this moment.

  And it was…beautiful. Breathtaking. It was everything.

  ~~~

  “Mia, we have to talk.” King hopped from the steaming tub and wrapped his large, lean, and muscled frame in a piece of white cloth.

  I sat still, glowing and weak from hours of ravenous lovemaking. The man was insatiable. In fact, at one point, I had begun to wonder if he’d taken some sort of ancient herbal supplement because I’d never heard of a man coming twice in a row, then being ready for another round thirty minutes later. But he did. And he had. And after a sensual swim in the ocean—our bodies and lips glued together the entire time—to rinse the sand from our sticky skin, we’d dressed and returned to his chamber. He ordered a day’s worth of food—wine, fruit, bread, and cheese—my favorite meal of all time—and instructed the guards to ensure we wouldn’t be bothered until further notice.

  We ate, we drank, we shared stories. He told me about growing up on the island, and of the pressure knowing he’d someday be responsible for so many. He didn’t talk much about his parents or how they died, but I had the impression they’d been loving people who’d instilled the importance of loyalty and duty in their children. When I told King about my family and snippets of the life I’d had before everything changed, he listened with such intensity that I knew he was visualizing every detail. He asked questions about what that part of the world looked like, how many people lived in my “village,” and why I hadn’t married at the age of sixteen.

  Yeah, that was kind of cute. But cuter still was the look on his face when I told him lots of women never married, choosing to focus on their careers instead. The open mouth and blinking blue eyes told me that King didn’t get it.

  “You are saying that they refuse the protection of a husband?”

  “Yep,” I responded.

  “And…they are not whores?”

  Like I said, it was cute. But cute quickly turned into wicked and sexy the moment his body was ready for more. This last round, though, when he’d bent me over the edge of the tub, his hand bringing me to orgasm three times in quick succession as he pounded his cock into me, was by far the best. It was as if our bodies were so attuned to one another that every touch, lick, and thrust was perfectly calibrated. I couldn’t imagine ever living without him now—not because the sex was more amazing than anything on earth, but because it was proof we were connected in a way that literally defied…everything. Absolutely everything. Which is also why his desire to talk and the serious tone scared the hell out of me.

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” I looked away, knowing that was a huge lie. There were a ton of things to say, like he needed to abandon—forever—any thoughts of sacrificing himself.

  “Do not pretend that the situation has changed,” he said.

  I looked at the murals of fish and octopi on the wall. “Can’t we just pretend for a few more hours?”

  “No.”

  I took a hollow breath.

  “I have killed Hagne,” he said.

  My head whipped toward him. “What?”

  He lifted his chin. “I killed her.”

  My spit stuck in my throat, but there were no words.

  “I went to her home, and she told me that she killed you. Admitted it in front of her entire family. Out of anger, I drew my sword and executed her on the spot.”

  “Oh no. No…”

  “Even though she defied my orders not to harm you and my actions were justified, her family demands justice or there will be a civil war,” he said.

  I cupped my hands over my mouth. I couldn’t believe this. />
  He continued, “Callias will fight in her honor to settle the dispute.”

  “But…but…why?”

  “Because I will ask him to,” he replied. “He will understand that if there is no justice, many more lives will be lost.”

  “Then kill him with the dagger.” That way he’d be brought back.

  “No.” King’s head hung low. “There must be a beheading. The dagger will not work for that.”

  I stood, and King’s eyes focused on my naked breasts. I grabbed a cloth and covered myself, not wanting to feel like I did. So…angry. “What the hell are you saying?”

  He looked at the floor. “That nothing has changed. I will die.”

  I shoved my nails into my palms. “Like fucking hell you will.”

  “Silence, Mia.” He held up his palm. “This is the only way. My people, those women and children, are more important than us.”

  I knew that. I really did. “I would never ask you to give up. Never. You’re loyal to them, and there is nothing in the world more important than that. I’m asking you to consider other options.” For Christ’s sake, I’d just found him. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing him now. It was just too painful.

  “There are none.” He looked away.

  “There are always other options, King. We can leave—”

  “No. I have reviewed every angle many times over, and this is the only solution that will maintain the peace. There must be blood. My blood.”

  Fucking Hagne! Why did it seem like this situation was on a path we couldn’t change?

  Then another thought struck me. “But Hagne hasn’t cursed you. You’ll die. Really die.” I’d never see him again.

  He nodded, clearly thinking about what that really meant.