Up in Smoke (King #8)

My heart is pounding so hard it shakes me the way hard-hitting bass rattles a trunk. I never pictured my first time. There were never enough minutes in the day for myself, never mind for fantasies or daydreams. Even if I had pictured it, attempting to seduce my kidnapper while quaking like the floor beneath me is shifting would probably not have come to mind.

I put on my best smile and unhook my bra with shaking fingers. Slowly, I drop it. He’s watching my every move. When my bra hits the floor, his mouth gapes open, but he quickly corrects himself as if he’s given too much away.

“I’ve seen plenty of naked women before. I’ve seen YOU naked before. You ain’t gonna shock me, hellion.”

“I’m not trying to shock you, Smoke,” I say, dragging out his name on my lips as if I’m enjoying the way it sounds rolling off my tongue.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game, little girl,” Smoke warns. “Stop before you lose.”

“So, play it with me,” I say, rubbing circles around my taut nipples with my fingers. The way he watches me makes me want to grab his head and thrust his lips against my breasts. “And we’ll both win.”

“I’m not fucking around. This is your last warning to cut this shit out before you end up in a position you’re going to regret…” His eyelids are heavy. Hooded. “And I’m going to enjoy.”

“I just want to feel good. Don’t you want to feel good?” I snake my hand down into my panties and rub my clit painstakingly slow. I’m supposed to be putting on a show for him, making him want me. It’s supposed to be fake.

Then why am I soaking wet?

“Alright, Hellion,” Smoke smirks wickedly. “You think you can handle it? Then, come the fuck on.”

He unzips his pants and pushes them down far enough to reveal the V underneath. It leads down his trail of abs to a very large bulge straining beneath the fabric of his boxer briefs.

Doubt. Panic. Worry. Unease. Terror. Horror.

They all crash into me at once along with a surge of arousal so strong and so unexpected I stagger on my feet, drunk with it, with lust.

“A fuck is a fuck. It won’t buy your freedom. It ain’t that easy.”

I kneel on the floor and spread my fingers on his hard thighs, hoping he can’t feel me shaking. I smile up at him through my lashes and lick my lips.

He grabs my wrist roughly. “It’s not a fucking joke, little girl. You think you’re smart, and I know there are a lot of motherfuckers out there that will fall for this bullshit, but in case you haven’t noticed, I ain’t like other guys. I can see right through this act of yours. I ain’t buying it. So, I’ll warn you one last time before shit gets real and your pussy is too full of cock and your head too full of regret. You can’t buy your freedom with pussy because your freedom ain’t. For. Sale.”

“It’s not an act,” I lie, defensively. I try to yank my wrist from his grip, but he holds me tighter, his fingernails biting into my flesh.

I gasp.

A current passes between us and I know he feels it, too, because our eyes both drop to where he’s holding me. It runs through my skin then back to his.

Smoke releases me so suddenly I fall back onto the carpet.

“Fine, have it your way. I’m calling your bluff.”

He reaches down and grabs me again, forcing me to stand. He rips my panties down my legs and groans when he sees the wetness on my thighs. He leans back on the couch, arms spread across the cushions. His deep voice lowers to a rumble.

“Take my cock out and ride me,” he orders, his voice low. Rough. Demanding.

Chills dance down my spine. I glance down at the large bulge between his legs and swallow hard.

“I-I…” I stutter. I’d hoped to turn him on, but I never expected to be turned on myself. Plus, I kinda forgot the part where, when it comes down to it, I don’t know what the hell I’m actually doing.

Shit.

“What’s wrong?” Smoke asks, grinning. “Change your mind?”

No, I just don’t know what to do.

I shake my head and try like hell to get a grip on my breathing.

Smoke crooks his finger at me. “Now,” he orders.

I come closer, standing in front of him with my knees against the cushions. He reaches out, grabs me by the waist and sets me on top of him so I’m straddling his large body, my legs spread impossibly wide while his hard bulge nudges my naked entrance from within his boxers.

The current between us sparks again, except this time, it courses straight through to my center. I close my eyes and groan at the sensation. I blink them back open and find Smoke staring at me with both confusion and wonderment.

There’s a shift in the air all around us and right now I imagine that in this moment he’s not my captor and I’m not his captive. He’s just a beautiful hard man and I’m just a lonely girl starving for human contact.

"What…what was that?" I ask. My voice is shaky. My breaths are short. Real true fear and lust break through the mask I’ve been wearing, and I squeeze my thighs around him because I HAVE TO.

Smoke’s mouth falls open. His fingers dig into my hips. He can see it now. He can see me. The real me. I’m both terrified and excited. My skin is flushed. My wetness is soaking through his boxers. He takes my wrists and binds them with his hands behind my back, keeping me in place. He gazes deeply into my eyes like he can see my every thought, my every dream, my every nightmare.

My every lie.

My nipples are impossibly hard. Painfully hard. He blows a breath across them, and I drop my head back at the sensation. He pulls me against him, and when my nipples meet the warm soft skin of his muscular chest, I groan.

“Fuck,” he swears, releasing my hands. I place them on his shoulders. His hands go to my hips again. He moves me. Rocking me against him. His hard cock rubs mercilessly against my clit sending that same electric current zapping over and over again with each glide. My lower stomach tightens.

My thighs flex involuntarily around his muscular thighs, and the groan that leaves his lips vibrates to my very core.

Fuck games, even if I’m the one who started it. Now, I only want more.

So much more.

I want him.

My body can’t lie. My reactions to him are real. Primal. My need is real. The pressure building in my lower stomach threatening to explode is very, very real.

“This is so fucked up,” I whisper.

“Makes it even better,” Smoke says, his lips on my collarbone, his hands on my ass.

I know it’s fucked up. I know it’s wrong. And he’s right. The wrongness of it is only making me want him more. If I’m going to die, I don’t want to do it without ever knowing what it feels like to have a man inside my body.

This man.

This monster.

I’m your monster.

His words echo in my brain.

The pressure is building. Smoke’s muscles flex underneath me, my nipples rub against his chest. My clit is aching. “What…what’s happening?” I ask although I don’t know what it is I’m actually asking.

Smoke’s eyes grow impossibly dark. He drags the pad of his thumb across my lips. "I have no fucking idea," he says, pushing his other hand into my hair. He tugs on the back of my head, pauses for a moment, then presses my lips to his.