The man who I was once so fearful of, a man who was capable of so much violence, and yet so much love, was struggling for control.
Because of me.
Because he was fucking me.
Because he wanted me.
Forever.
We’re a forever kind of thing.
It was my undoing.
The tension that had been building inside of me tightened to the point of pain before it finally broke, sending every single part of my body into spasm after spasm, rolling over me in brutal waves of blinding white-hot pleasure. I cried out, a strangled sounding moan, holding tightly on to King, who when I started to convulse around his cock, released a moan of his own. I rode out my orgasm, writhing against him until he’d wrung out every last bit of pleasure from my weak body.
He followed me over, thrusting with wild abandon until he exploded inside of me, filling me with warmth.
With love.
With him.
* * *
King rested his forehead against mine as we tried to catch our breaths, but he didn’t put me down. My legs still wrapped around his waist.
Our bodies still one, neither of us in a rush to break the connection we’d waited so long for.
“What do you want to be called now?” he asked out of nowhere. “Doe? Ray?”
“Why does that even matter? Because whatever I choose, you’ll just call me Pup anyway.”
“True, but we need to know what to put on the form.” King said, pressing tender soft kisses all over my lips and face, even the tip of my nose and eye lids.
“What form?” I asked.
“It’s upstairs on the counter. Grace picked it up earlier for me. We’ll have to go and sign it together, but we can fill it out here. I figured since we were changing your last name, you might as well change the first one at the same time. Save some trouble.”
“My last name?” I asked. “What form? What thing?”
“Always with the fucking questions, Pup.” King teased with fake annoyance.
“The paper you need to fill out when you get hitched. The fucking…marriage paper.” King said dismissively like we’d talked about it a million times before.
I gasped. “Are you proposing?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Fuck, no.”
“But you want me to fill out a marriage form…” I started. “Where we…” I pointed between the two of us. “Would be the ones getting married?” King nodded. “To each other,” I added.
He smiled against my skin and nodded again, continuing his assault of soft kisses on my shoulder and down my arm.
“You do realize that proposing is asking someone to marry you, and that very much seems like what you are doing here,” I argued. King’s cock, still deep inside me, started to twitch back to life, growing and stretching me again, when he brushed his lips over my nipples. His smirk turned downright wicked. His bright eyes danced with mischief.
“We,” King said. “You and me, are getting married. Seeing as how I love you, and I know you love me, and we’re about to have a couple of kids running around the house. But I’m not asking you anything. Asking would give you the impression that you have a say in this. So no, I’m not proposing.” He pulled out of me a little and then pushed back in. I groaned.
“You’re insane,” I said, moving my hips with his, trying to bring him in deeper.
It was the most unfair one-sided non-proposal ever.
And I wouldn’t have changed a thing.
“So I see we really are back to where we started,” I offered as King slammed into me and we both had to pause a second to take in the sensation. I tried not to smile. I tried to pretend to be angry at his marriage demand, but I failed miserably.
I think it was the ear-to-ear smile that gave me away.
“Yeah. We’re back to where it all started,” King said. He cupped my face in my hands and looked deep into my eyes. “And there’s no place in the entire fucking world I’d rather be.”
King started to move again but this time was different. Slower. Less urgent. He rolled his hips and my mouth hung open as I drank in every lingering sensation of his slow thrusts. He punctuated each one with a slight twist of his hips until we were both seeing stars again.
King didn’t tear his eyes from mine when he made me come for the second time. He didn’t look away when he found his release deep inside me either. And as my orgasm began to fade, there was only one thought running through my mind.
I felt free.
With King, I was the me I wanted to be. The me I was supposed to be.
And that girl, belonged to King.
Body and soul.
Chapter Thirty-Five
King
“Bear is teaching him how to snort blow off strippers,” I answered sarcastically when Pup asked me where Sammy was. She playfully punched me in the shoulder. “Ouch,” I said, holding on to my arm as if she were actually capable of hurting me.
Physically that is.
“Okay, maybe the stripper thing was a slight stretch,” I admitted. “But I did leave him with Bear. He’s showing him his bike. I just wanted to come inside and make sure you were okay. You’ve been in here a while.”
“I’ve been in here for two freaking seconds. I was just getting Sammy’s sippy cup,” she said, pushing me toward the door. “Overprotective much?”
“Me?” I asked. “Never.”
Over by the lopsided garage, Bear was holding Sammy up on the seat of his bike. Although he couldn’t reach, Sammy still held out his little chubby arms toward the handlebars. “Vroooom Vroooom.”
“Hey big man, looking good on that bike,” I said, scooping him off the seat and flying him around in the air like he was Superman. He giggled and clapped his hands together. It felt right that he was with us full-time. And according to Pup, it’s good for kids to have a routine. Whatever that meant.
I flew Sammy right into his mother’s arms and I planted a kiss on her lips.
“Eeeeeeewwwww,” Sammy shouted, wiggling in her arms. We both laughed and turned back to Bear. He lit a cigarette and leaned against his bike.
He took a long drag, blowing the smoke out through his nose. Without his cut, wearing just a black T-shirt. The leather and patches were noticeably absent.
It looked as empty as the vacant look in his eyes.
The scars on his cheeks from the night with Eli were still red and visible through his light beard.
“You really leaving?” I asked after noticing that both his saddle-bags had already been packed.
“Yeah, I got all my shit out of the garage. It’s in storage for now.”
“I told you that you can stay,” I said, repeating what I’d told him several times over the last month. “We can make room, move some shit around. We’ve always got room for you, brother.”
Bear shook his head. “After all the fucking shit that went down with Preppy dying, then the club, then the shit with Eli, and then that crazy fucking kid…” He took another long drag on his cigarette. “I just gotta get away, man. Clear my fucking head. Get some fucking air. Figure out what the fuck my next move is.”
I shielded my eyes from the son. “You planning on coming back?”
Bear shrugged. “Don’t know that answer just yet.” He stubbed out his cigarette and straddled his bike. He started up the engine and it roared to life.
With a single sad salute, Bear took off down the driveway. A cloud of loose sand billowed up behind his bike, following him down the road.
“Bye bye!” Sammy shouted, jumping up and down, waving frantically long after Bear had disappeared.
“I hope he finds what he’s looking for,” Pup said as she came to stand beside me.
“Me too,” I said. Bear’s shit with his dad and the MC still hadn’t been resolved. I hoped that wherever he was going, the time away would help him get his head on straight so he’d be ready to deal with the shit storm that was undoubtedly coming his way when he returned.
* * *
Doe
“Look!” Samuel said, pointing to where a beige Lexus with dark tinted windows was coming up the drive.
“Who the fuck is that?” King asked.
I picked up Samuel and shrugged. “No clue.” But then I remembered that it looked very much like my mother’s Lexus, the one I’d tried to take the night I ran to the MC.
The car pulled to a stop and King protectively stepped out in front of me and Sammy, his body instantly going tight. When the door opened and the driver stepped, out I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
It was my father.
“I thought you were still in the hospital,” I said, taking a step forward. My father didn’t come any closer. He stayed by the car, with the door still open, the car still running, leaning against the frame of the window.
“I signed myself out a few days ago. Tired of nurses trying to wipe my ass when I’m perfectly capable of doing it on my own,” he said with a short laugh that made him cough and then wince in pain.
It was the first time in years I’d seen my dad wearing anything other than a suit. He looked older without having it to hide behind. His plain white collared shirt and light denim jeans made him look like any other dad.