THREE MONTHS LATER
“Reducing the budget of the immigration department means we’ll take on fewer pro bono cases, and that doesn’t play into the firm’s future vision, not to mention it’s a downright capitalist approach,” I tell Kingsley, getting in his face.
At some point, I left my seat at the conference table and we’re both standing toe to toe.
“Capitalism plays little to no role in my attempts to eliminate frauds and wasting time our associate attorneys can use to tackle other important cases.”
“Such as what? Let me guess, corporate? Aka the arm of your beloved capitalism.”
“Criminal, Ms. Leblanc. The prisons are full and we need more lawyers there instead of fighting useless battles with ICE.”
“They’re not useless if we save someone from being deported from US soil to a country that discriminates against them.”
“I will not dedicate a budget that can get five-plus wrongfully convicted people out of jail with mere hope to save one person.”
“We’ll not see eye to eye on this matter, so I guess we’ll have to vote.”
“Who will vote? You and your alter ego?”
“The board, of course. If you’re against lowering the immigration department’s budget, raise your hand.” I do so first, then cast a glance to see who’s on my side.
Only empty chairs are in sight. “Where is…everyone?”
“They obviously left in the middle of our heated argument.”
I face Kingsley, who looks dashing in his dark suit, like a devil lord fresh out of hell. A small smile tilts his lips as he watches me with that gleam that I recognize so well.
My hand drops to my side. “I can’t believe Nate left, too.”
“He led the crowd out, pointing at his watch because, apparently, the meeting ran longer than it should.”
“Whatever.” I flip my hair. “We’re going to have a vote about this during the next board meeting, and I will win, asshole.”
“Don’t act butthurt when you lose, sweetheart.”
“Screw you.”
His hand shoots for me before I can consider escaping and wraps possessively around my waist. He effortlessly lifts me up and sits me on the conference table, then barges between my legs, parting them as wide as possible.
“Don’t tempt me.”
A shock of excitement rushes through me, then pools between my thighs. No clue if it’s because we finally got together or because we missed so many years in the process, but we’re always desperate for each other.
Sometimes even the moment we stop touching.
It’s the best type of addiction I’ve ever had. Better than alcohol, better than success.
He’s my favorite drug.
I honestly don’t know how the hell I survived during the “illegal ban” that Kingsley doesn’t want to be reminded of ever again.
He said he’ll tell stories about it to his Grim Reaper.
It doesn’t help that we’re still at each other’s throats at the firm. We’re definitely not the lovey-dovey couple, and won’t sugarcoat shit for each other.
One thing’s for sure, we have each other’s backs and obviously want each other to the point of madness.
Nietzsche said that there’s always some madness in love, but there’s also always some reason in madness.
And this infuriating man is my reason and my madness.
These past few months have been closer to a dream than reality. Not only is my father finally out of the picture, but Gwen calls me “Mom” and has accepted me as her mother.
Callie and I are as close as ever. The other day, we celebrated her long-awaited pregnancy with lots of juice and not a drop of alcohol, naturally.
I’m one hundred twenty-one days clean.
I broke away from the mafia, and I know it’s because Kingsley took care of it, and not due to Nicolo letting me go out of the goodness of his stone heart.
And to make our lives even more peaceful, Kingsley sued Susan, making her lose every dime she owned as I promised, and she escaped from the state soon after.
The most important thing is that I have this man as my love, my partner, and the father of my little girl.
I know that he’ll probably never be Prince Charming or waive some knighthood, but I never needed those things anyway. His edge of intensity is what attracted me to him in the first place. And even though we still bicker all the time, his arms are my safest home.
I focus on his lips and speak in a sultry tone. “What if I do tempt you?”
“Then you won’t be able to walk out of here. At least, not properly.”
I lean close until my lips nearly graze his. I’m only a hair’s breadth away, getting more intoxicated by his cedarwood scent.
His nostrils flare, expecting the kiss, but I pull back. “Maybe another time.”
The words are barely out of my mouth when he dives in, his eyes a penetrating storm as he captures my lips.
It’s a soul-shattering kiss that steals my breath, my sanity, and leaves me like putty in his hands.
Hands that are everywhere—on my back, my waist, my nape. He has the type of command that leaves me no choice but to bend to him.
Yes, I fight him. Yes, we rarely agree on anything, but when his body speaks to mine, all I can do is listen.
He makes quick work of pulling off my clothes and releasing his cock, and then he thrusts inside me in one delicious go.
His rhythm is slow at first, maddening even, as he hits every deep, pleasurable place inside me over and over until I’m moaning in his mouth. Until I’m dripping on the table and unable to stop myself.
It’s crazy how he knows my body better than I do and hits the right places that nearly push me over the edge.
“More,” I murmur against his lips.
“More what?” he asks with dripping seductiveness.
“Fuck me harder,” I beg, rotating my hips, and then I bare my shoulder, where there’s a hickey he left yesterday. “Like when you gave me this.”
“You little conniving witch.” His teeth sink into the red mark and he drives into me faster, longer, and with so much intensity, I can’t breathe.
My arms wrap around his neck and my heels dig into the firmness of his ass as I come undone around him.
His breathing becomes unhinged and I know he’s also close when his dick twitches inside me.
“Say it,” he grunts against my neck, leaving another bite mark.
“W-what?”
“That you love me.”
“I do.” I shudder, surprisingly more turned on like whenever he makes me admit my feelings during sex. “I love you, King.”
He comes so long and deep inside me that it triggers another orgasm.
I slump against him, my head falling in the nook of his shoulder as the smell of sex surrounds us.
He’s right. It’s going to take me some time to walk out of here.
I sigh, then wince when the bite on my neck burns. My fingers touch it and I scowl at him. “Seriously, stop the animal behavior.”
His face lights up with pure mischief. “How else will people know you’re mine?”
“The fact that you’ve been announcing it at every event we attend together maybe? With your hand around my waist.”
The attention was suffocating at first, but taking a public family picture with him, Gwen, and Nate is so worth it.
Besides, I know that a man like Kingsley comes with a lot of baggage, and I love that, just like every other part of him.
In fact, I’m a bit twisted and love his dark side a tad too much. It’s the part that’s exclusive to me.
I’m the only one who knows about his past, his relationship with his parents, and how he’s finally coming to terms with no longer blaming himself for his mother’s suicide.
I’m the one who saw the devil in his eyes and fell head over heels for it.
We’re a match made in hell like that.
“Showing you off at events and in front of the press is still not enough,” he says, referring to my earlier words.
“You can’t possibly be thinking about biting me forever. Are you?”
“I don’t see why I wouldn’t.”
“I can’t believe this. Next time, you’ll put a collar on me.”
His eyes glint like when he’s thinking something mischievous.
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking about that?”
“Not a collar, no.” His voice drops. “A ring.”
“What type of ring?”
“A wedding ring.”
I choke on my own spit, my heart nearly spilling free from behind my rib cage. “You…are you kidding?”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?”
“You want to marry me?”
“Of course I do. Where did you think this was going?”
“I…don’t know.”
“Well, now, you do.” He grips me by the throat, his fingers digging into the flesh. “You’re the only woman I want with me every step of the way for the rest of my life, Aspen. When anyone looks at you, I want them to know you’re fucking mine.”
“Is that a proposal?”
“Depends. Are you going to say yes?”
“You’re such a dick, even when you’re proposing.”
“But I’m your dick. Literally and figuratively.”
I smile. “I never thought about getting married, you know. But I want that with you.”
His mirrored smile is blinding as he pulls me close. “That’s because you’re smart as fuck, sweetheart.”
And then he seals the proposal with a tingle-inducing kiss.
