Twist the Knife (Lost Kings MC #24)

“Ah, fuck.” He squeezes my breasts together as hot semen splashes against my skin. He uses one hand to guide himself and ends up painting more than my chest with his release.

Unsure of what to do, I brace my hands on his knees, so we’re at least connected in some way.

“Are you okay?” he asks, brushing my hair off my shoulder.

My heart’s pounding wildly and I’m a little in shock. Satisfaction drowns out my surprise, when I see the content smile on his lips.

I did that.

I made him lose control. I flick a glance down at my cum-coated skin.

“I’m fine.”

“Look at the mess I made of you.” He brushes his knuckles against my chin. “Thank you.” He leans down and kisses my forehead. “Let me clean you up.”

He stands, then helps me off the pillow. “You made my legs all shaky, woman,” he teases.

“I did?”

“You see anyone else around? Come here.” He slides an arm behind my back and one under my legs and scoops me into his arms.

“What are you doing?” I squeal, flapping my hands in the air as he cradles me to his chest. “You can’t carry me.”

He snorts like he’s insulted. “Margot, I lift heavier things than you in the gym every day.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” he says in a mocking tone as he carries me out of the bedroom and down the hallway to the bathroom.

He sets me on the tile and grabs a towel, quickly wiping most of the mess from my chest and stomach.

“Come on.” He slips his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close to his side. I push the shower door open. After he studies the complicated faucet system I had installed, he flips and twists the nozzles. “Fancy setup,” he says.

“I like my showers long and hot.” I poke him in the side. “Like my men.”

His eyes crinkle at the corners. “Yeah, how many men you let in that shower?”

That erases the smile from my lips. “You’ll be the first.”

“I’m honored.” He leans down and presses his lips to mine. “Thank you.”

He backs up to the wall and sticks his hand under the spray. “It’s getting there.” After stepping into the shower, he holds out his hand to me. “Come on.”

My skin’s barely wet when he leans down and kisses me. As he pulls away, I sigh.

“Was that…good?” I risk looking up at him. “Did I do it right?”

He clenches his jaw tight and turns his head toward my built-in shelf full of hair and bath products. As if he needs a moment to compose himself.

After studying the products for a few seconds, he picks up a purple bottle of black orchid and patchouli bodywash and clicks the cap open. He sniffs it, then pours a generous amount in his hand. “Little lady death, you’re killing me.”

With his eyes focused on my chest, he slides his foamy hands over my skin. “You’re covered in my cum from neck to nipples, and you’re still asking me if you gave me a good blow job?”

His low voice echoes in the shower all around me.

I don’t have an answer.

“Yes, you blew my fucking mind. Literally.” He tweaks one nipple.