A pounding on the front door is the first sign that King is here.
I press my hands to the slab of wood in front of me.
Raised voices are the second.
Raised voice. King’s.
I press my ear to my door.
I knew King was coming. Dom told me he was. But knowing he’s out there…
My pulse skips into triple time, because I want to see him.
I want to see him, even though he’s the reason I left. And nothing has changed.
Leaning closer, I try to make out the words, but I can’t.
The car ride over from the motel was silent and stressful, and when we got here, Dom showed me to this room, saying that I could rest.
But I didn’t rest. I couldn’t.
It looks like an unused guest bedroom. And Dom didn’t lock me in, but he didn’t have to. I don’t know him, or any of the men I saw watching me as I walked through the massive apartment.
So, I’ve just been standing here pacing the floor, for I don’t know how long, but it feels like forever.
Feels like forever since I overheard the conversation this morning.
Feels like forever since I’ve laid eyes on King.
Feels like forever since I’ve known who I can trust.
The voices stop. And I press my ear to the door, straining to hear something, anything.
Nothing.
Silence.
A new sort of panic swells in my chest.
Would he leave? Would he come all the way here just to leave me?
And why does that make my heart ache? I literally ran away from the man. Today.
But what do I do if he leaves me with this even scarier man?
My ear is still pressed to the wood, when I suddenly register the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door.
I jump back, a startled scream stuck in my throat, when the door flies open.
It’s shoved so hard it bounces off the wall, but King snaps his hand out and catches the edge of the door, stopping it from swinging back into him.
His gaze is locked on me as he steps across the threshold and slams the door shut behind him.
I’m backing away.
My head and heart are at war over what’s the biggest danger in my life right now, but my feet don’t care. They just keep moving me away from the closest threat.
We move in tandem, me backward, him forward.
His eyes…
My chest squeezes.
His eyes look hurt.
He looks disappointed.
In me.
“I h-heard.” My voice is hardly audible.
King steps toward me as he rolls his shoulders, looking like a fighter about to enter the ring. “I know what you heard.” His steps stop and he starts to pull off his suit jacket, toeing off his shoes at the same time. “And you have until I’m naked to ask your questions.”
He tosses the jacket down, revealing two guns holstered at his sides.
I take another step back, bumping into the wall.
His large hands pull the guns free––like it’s a movement he does every day––and he sets them on the foot of the bed.
I wet my lips, trying to remember what he said as his fingers move to the buttons on his shirt.
“Do you sell girls?” My throat aches for him as I ask the question, because I can already see the answer on his face.
“I don’t sell anyone.” He yanks his shirt off and tosses it to the floor. “I don’t traffic people.” He undoes his belt, ripping it free with a snap. “I don’t hurt women.” He unzips his pants, letting them drop to the floor. “But I am going to fuck you now.” He shoves his boxers off. “Because you’re my wife. And it’s about fucking time you started acting like it.”
A whimper crawls up my throat, but King catches it, taking the last step between us and slamming his lips to mine.
He’s already hard. I only saw a glance, but I can feel his length pressing into me. Trapped between his huge, strong body and my own smaller, more fragile one.
I open my mouth, and he invades it. His tongue lashing against mine.
And I feel everything.
I feel the way I hurt him.
I feel the way I scared him.
Hands tangle in my hair, and he yanks my head back, making my neck arch.
“Tell me you’re sorry,” he growls against my mouth.
“I’m sorry!” I cry.
He hasn’t given me any proof. Hasn’t given me anything but his word. But I believe him. And the guilt I feel over not trusting him claws at my insides. Even after everything he’s put me through, I hate that I thought the worst of him.
“Tell me you’re sorry for leaving me.” King sounds so mad.
My hands reach out for him. My fingertips digging into the bare skin at his sides.
His hands slide down to my waist and he lifts me.
“Tell me,” he growls.
“I’m sorry,” My apology turns into a moan when my legs wrap around his waist and I can feel him there.
“No more running,” he shoves his hips against mine, his cock almost painfully hard against my sensitive center.
One hand leaves my waist to roughly cup my breast. My unpadded bralette and tank top doing nothing to hide the way my nipples are straining for his touch.
Another moan wraps around me.
My body is so primed for him. So ready to take him. And I want to hate myself for it. I know I should hate myself for it. But he came for me.
I ran. And he came for me.
King hooks a finger in the front of my shirt, catching the edge of my bra at the same time, and yanks them both down. He pauses for a second, as the cash I forgot about tumbles free, but then he hikes me higher against the wall and wraps his lips around my nipple.
I practically sob at the sensation.
His hot mouth. The way his tongue licks at my nipple while his teeth press into my soft flesh.
A groan rumbles from King’s mouth to my skin, and I can’t stop my hips from rocking.
It feels so damn good.
When King pulls down the other side of my shirt, hard enough to snap the strap of my tank top, I move my hands up to cling to his shoulders. Feeling his muscles flex and bulge while he suckles on the other peek.
“Jesus.” He laps at my flesh. “Fuck.” His teeth graze over my breast. “Hold on.” When I don’t react, he lifts his head to snap at me, “Hold on to me.”
I circle my arms around his neck and hold him close as he presses his chest against mine, pinning me against the wall with his weight.
Then I feel it.
His hands between my legs. Grabbing at the material.
A tear rips through the air a second before fingers touch my panties.
King ripped my leggings.
He ripped my freaking leggings.
A pair of demanding fingers run up and down my entrance, the soaked through cotton giving me away.
King groans again as he hooks his fingers around the edge of my panties and pulls them to the side. His thumb swipes up my slit and across my slippery bud, making me hold him tighter.
“So fucking wet.” His thumb is replaced with something bigger. Blunter. “And so fucking mine.”
King shoves his hips forward.
The invasion is immediate.
His thickness more than I’ve ever had. My pussy stretching around him.
And the sound that leaves me is half scream, half ecstasy.
He’s so deep. So damn deep.
And I’m so fucking full.
“That’s it wife.” King pulls out, then slams back in. “Take all of me.”
Him calling me wife, while he’s buried inside of me, sends shivers dancing across my skin.
King grabs my hips and yanks me further onto his dick.
“You were fucking built for me,” he grunts. “So snug. So perfect.”
I can’t stop moaning. Can’t stop the sounds that are being fucked out of my chest.
I turn my face into him and press my lips against his neck, breathing him in. Inhaling his familiar scent.
“So hot for it.” His pace is picking up. His hips slapping forward into mine. The hole in my leggings tearing further with each movement. And all I can do is hold on.
The next time he shoves inside me, a jolt shoots up my spine, and I cry out. Swearing he bottomed out. My noise bouncing off the walls around us.
“Better keep quiet, Baby. You wouldn’t want all those men out there hearing you.”
My body reacts on its own. My pussy clenching hard around his length.
Oh god, why do I want that?
“Fuuuuck.” King lifts his head, and rocks his hips. “You like that, Savannah?” He raises the volume of his voice just a little bit louder. “You want someone to walk in here. To see you like this.” He uses his grip on my hips to bounce me on his cock. “You want someone to watch me fuck you with this big dick?”
