A Kiss For You

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A Kiss For You Page 90

by Rachel Van Dyken


  “Holy shit. You’re fucking dripping.” He sucked my clit into his mouth.

  “I missed the way you taste, Pup. Fucking sweet and innocent. You taste like more.” His words vibrating against my core which was so beyond ready for him to put the monster throbbing against my leg to good use. Instead, he stood back up, forcing me harder against the pillar. He reached between us and between my folds, spreading my wetness, pushing his thick middle finger inside of me.

  His finger was barely halfway in, but I was already clenching around him. “Your pussy missed me,” King said, his voice rough and strained. The confidence he possessed just moments ago, now an obvious struggle, as he attempted to stay in control.

  I dropped my head back against the pillar. He pushed all the way in and hooked his finger slightly. When he began to pump I writhed against his hand.

  Each and every time he pulled out it felt just as amazing as when he pushed back inside. He started to pump faster, steady at first, then more erratic. More desperate. More like King’s only mission in life was to tear an orgasm from my body.

  I was lost in the sensation of the in and out.

  The push and pull.

  The clench and release.

  The throb and pulse.

  The fucking mind-blowing amazingness of being able to not only see this man again. But to kiss him. Touch him.

  Have his baby.

  There was a time not that long ago, when I truly thought I’d never see him again. I certainly never thought he’d be finger fucking me back against the pillar where it had all started.

  Where we had started. It was in that very spot where I gave myself to him the first time. And it was in that very spot again where I gave myself to him all over again.

  Even though in my heart I’d never really stopped being his.

  Sensation started building on top of sensation. Pleasure on top of pleasure. I could no longer tell a push-in from a pull-out. I was so charged up, I felt like I could power an entire city on the energy humming inside me.

  The mounting pleasure became almost too much. I desperately needed some sort of release before I fell apart under the pressure.

  “Fuck!” I cried out.

  “That’s the plan, Pup.” King removed his fingers and sucked them into his mouth. “Fuck. My tongue is going to be spending a lot of time getting reacquainted with that beautiful pussy of yours, but right now I need to put my cock inside you.”

  “Yes,” I panted.

  King made quick work of his belt and jeans. His cock sprang free of its confinement. Without another beat King wrapped his hand around the thick shaft and pushed the head into my folds, soaking it with my wetness, before pushing inside with a long hard thrust that made us both cry out at the same time.

  King gripped the back of my thighs, his fingers pressing roughly into my flesh.

  And then he kissed me. Hard.

  He kissed me as if it were that very kiss sealing our connection. Our fate. Our lives.

  Together.

  I was close. So close that I was almost afraid of how hard I was going to come. King’s breathing changed from steady against my lips to erratic as he hammered into me hard and fast. My nipples grazed his chest with every thrust. My clit rubbed against the base of his cock.

  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 eyelids.

  “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’re 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.

  King

  “Bear is teaching him how to snort blow off strippers,” I answered sarc
astically 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 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.

  He looked empty.

  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 sun. “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.

  “I wanted to come here and say I’m sorry,” my dad said, his words directed above my head to King who was standing close behind me. King folded his arms over his chest. After my father tried to rescue me from Tanner, I knew that King wasn’t gunning for him like before. He wasn’t ever going to like him or trust him, but in time, I think he could work his way up to tolerating him. “To both of you,” he said, tears glistening in his eyes. “I let a job I love come before the job I love most, which was being a father.”

  I reflected back on my childhood to a time when my father was just a computer programmer who was happy volunteering for the mayor’s office, stuffing envelopes on the weekends in our living room. My mother had always been withdrawn, unhappy with the life she chose for herself.

  Most of the time it was just dad and me. He folded the flyers and I licked the envelopes. We were an amazing team.

  We were happy for a time.

  It was only when he started in politics when he started to withdraw from me too, throwing himself into it heart and soul. I made do with being a family of one with the help of my best friends.

  Tanner and Nikki.

  Looking back on my childhood I still couldn’t pinpoint when the switch had been flipped, and the Tanner I knew turned into the monster he became.

  Though his poor parents, with the help of a counselor, seem to think it started after his initial leukemia diagnosis. It was common for patients who had come so close to death themselves to develop a sort of morbid curiosity about death. It was also common to develop mood disorders, violent tendencies, and compulsive obsessions.

  Tanner developed all those things. To the extreme.

  The shock of it all came from how good he was at hiding it.

  The leukemia might have been the tipping point, the fork in the road to the land of no return for Tanner, but I knew he’d started abusing Nikki as early as age ten. In hindsight, there were signs. Signs no kid would have ever picked up on.

  But that fact didn’t change that I did have guilt. So much that it felt like I was carrying a ton of bricks on my back.

  Nikki had always been happy and outgoing. She was bossy, confident, and a bit of a tattle-tale. It all changed very slowly. Over the course of eight years, the Nikki I knew slowly slipped away and was replaced by the Nikki who needed drugs to cope with the abuse.

  One day Nikki was pointing her finger in Tanner’s face, calling him out when he’d obviously cheated in a game of Monopoly by skipping spaces with his little racecar, advancing nine spots instead of the seven he rolled.

  The next, Nikki was staring at the board blankly, shrugging her shoulders when I asked her if Tanner was cheating.

  And although Tanner turned out to be a monster, I couldn’t help but grieve for the boy he used to be. One of my best friends. I still went to his funeral with King by my side. I decided that the Tanner who did all of the horrible things he did, wasn’t worth the effort of remembering. And when I thought of my childhood and my best friends, every time evil Tanner started to creep into my mind, I killed him all over again.

  When King came back and told me that it was over, it was like a switch had been turned on in my mind, closing off that part of my life. I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to know. I just wanted to live.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m kind of over apologies,” I said. My father nodded.

  “But I don’t think I’ll ever be done apologizing,” he said, adjusting his glasses.

  “Why don’t you come in the house? We were about to make some breakfast,” I offered. King stiffened by my sid
e and I elbowed him. My father smiled.

  “Which brings me to the real reason I’m here,” he said, reaching into the car and cutting the engine. He finally shut his door and walked around to the passenger side.

  He opened the door. “It’s okay, you can come out. You’re home now,” he said into the car.

  Who was he talking to?

  And then I had to blink several times to make sure that what was in front of me was really happening. My eyes went wide the second blonde pigtails peeked out from behind the door. When her little Mary-Jane’s hit the pavement, my eyes darted to King, and watched as the weight of what was happening came crushing down on him. He dropped to his knees on the gravel, his hands coming up to cover his open mouth.

  My father knelt down beside the little girl and pointed to King. “Remember him from the pictures I showed you?” he asked her. The little girl nodded. “And who is that?”

  “Daddy.” She held the hem of her little white dress in her hands and swayed from side to side.

  King let out an audible gasp, tears welled in his eyes.

  “Do you want to go give your daddy a hug?” my father asked her. Tentatively the little girl shuffled over to King, looking down at her shoes. When she stopped right in front of King, she looked up.

  And she smiled.

  “Hi Daddy,” she said. King opened his arms and she ran into him, closing her arms around his neck. King’s shoulders rose and fell as she buried her head in his neck. He held her tight, his hands on the back of her head.

  Looking up at my father in complete disbelief, I found him smiling warmly at Max and King’s long awaited reunion.

  “Hi, Max. Hi, baby,” King said, pulling back so he could get a good look at his little girl, tears on her little red face.

  “Why are you crying, princess?” King asked.

  “’Cause I happy,” she said in between short intakes of breath.

 

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