Novel & Cerita Grasp Of The King

The King didn’t care. His arm wrapped around me, strong and possessive, his grip firm on my thigh. His nose brushed the curve of my neck, inhaling slowly, deeply, as if anchoring himself to my scent. The pressure of his fingers digging into my skin told me one thing clear as day: I wasn’t going anywhere. For a moment, time itself seemed to stop. The daughter he’d thrown away, the daughter not worth remembering, now sitting in the lap of the most feared king alive.

The death seemed to rile Kings army up and Elicited a loud growl from the king himself. "How do you have the strength to fight against me?!" He asked with a growl in his vocals. "I broke you!" "You didn't break me your grace... you hardened me. How does it feel, knowing that you singlehandedly pushed me into the arms of the rebellion?” I placed both my hands around the hilt of the blade embedded into the enemy's warriors skull and yanked it out, readying my weapon and pointing at His grace.

Her few days with The Road Devils had already made Jo re-evaluate assumptions made based on appearance. “You know it, sugar,” he growled and then turned his attention to Jo. “Hi. I’m King.” You sure as hell are. Oh my and dear Lord above. “Hi,” Jo squeaked as those intense gray eyes saw her whole; it was like the man had x-rays in his face and Jo knew that exactly zero got past him. As she took his hand, she felt something cool and hard and she glanced down to see that King had numerous thick, heavy silver rings. Idly and briefly, she wondered if they doubled as knuckle-dusters, decided that she didn’t really want to know. “I’m Jo.”

“Yeah. Jax is doting like a damn fool.” King’s hand clenched into a fist on the table. He breathed out hard through his nose. “She was supposed to be mine. That fire in her, the way she fights... I wanted her to choose me. Stand at my side as my queen. Not knocked up with Reaper’s spawn.” Tiffany’s lip curled. “That bitch doesn’t deserve—” King moved fast. His hand shot out and grabbed her throat, yanking her halfway across the table. The knife clattered to the floor. His grip was iron, not enough to crush but enough to cut off air.

My eyes met his and I frowned in confusion at how confident the king seemed, he was nowhere near being worried, in the contrary, he had something to believe in. “What are you trusting Verone, it is obvious that you didn’t come here to simply ‘bargain’ with me, the confidence you’re having is not one that would show that you’re here alone, nor that you’re here worried” Niklaus said looking at the king, I looked at Grace and her eyes were as hard as her brothers, her canines exposed as if she was ready to attack the king.

I couldn't keep my breaths from coming out in harsh little gasps as his hands roamed over my now naked body, squeezing, taking. I thrust my chest at him, feeling my breath catch in my throat when his large hands wrapped around the large orb and squeezed, before he tore off the gown, allowing my breasts to plop and bounce freely. “Say you want me,” The King panted into my mouth, tugging his pants free and stepping out so that my eyes popped at the hung shaft of his cock. I reached out absentmindedly and let my fingers wrap halfway around his thick girth, moaning when the veins bulged under my grip as clear juice ran from the tip of the purple mushroom head.

"Shiv'ra will do penance for their role in this unrest but as their new king has given us free reign to punish the offenders, their sanction shall only be for a year." Murmurs of assent rang out from the crowd. "Hear the words of the king!" The herald announced. "All hail king Nicolas! All hail king Nicolas!" His people's cheers followed him out of the courtyard and into the castle. The doors shut behind him giving him much needed time to breathe. "Ruling becomes you, my King." Odeya's husky voice came from behind him before warm hands landed on his shoulder easing him into the chair. "How are your legs?"

The maid placed the cup back onto the tray and adjusted the blanket over his legs slightly Then she picked up the tray again and turned to leave. Suddenly… A strong hand grabbed her wrist tightly. The maid froze immediately. Her heartbeat stopped. “My king…?” The king’s grip tightened. His voice came out low. Cold. Painfully calm. “I know everything.” The maid blinked in confusion. “My king… I don’t understand…” The king slowly lifted his eyes towards her. “I know what you’ve been doing to me.” The maid’s expression changed instantly. Fear crashed into her chest.

He walked to the window. Looked out over the city. Lights flickered below. Alive. Unaware. A faint, humorless smile touched his lips. “So…” His voice was low. Almost thoughtful. “The king of the underground.” A pause. His eyes darkened slightly. “My son.” The words came easier this time. Not softer. But accepted. His head tilted slightly. “If he rules…” A breath. “Then I rule.” Not dominance. Not greed. Something else. Recognition. Blood. Legacy.

“Tai, please don’t.” He approaches me, one cool, calm step at a time. His rings glitter on his fingers, signifying who he is, a King, a powerful leader who would do anything for his Province. His back is straight, muscles tense as he holds the steel bar in front of him, cold eyes gliding over me, as if he is looking for any space on my skin to burn me. “Alright Tai, give it up,” Marek chokes from within the cell. “I’ll talk.”