12. Kingston
CHAPTER TWELVE
KINGSTON
NOW
It’s been so long since I let someone touch me that her hands pressed to my chest and her body pinned to mine are almost enough to make me come in my pants like a fucking teenager.
I’ve spent the last ten years preparing for this moment, but now it’s here, and I can’t fuck it up.
Not if I want her to stay.
Watching her explore the house from my office was a unique kind of torture because I wanted nothing more than to be beside her, showing her all the things I’ve done to make her life here more comfortable.
The library full of her favorite books, the sitting rooms that get the perfect amount of sun throughout the day, and the pool I had installed outside for the summer.
But instead I stayed put, allowing her to explore alone.
I know she was looking for me, wanting to tell me in no uncertain terms that she would not be marrying me, but she doesn’t have a choice in the matter.
As badly as I want to give Chloe the world, I need her to be my wife.
I need to know she’s mine in every possible way, even if she hates me for it.
A better man would have asked. He would have got down on one knee and pledged his undying love. But I’ve never claimed to be a good man.
It takes every ounce of restraint not to throw her on the bed behind her and spend the rest of the day exploring her perfect body, but we’re not there yet.
I have to take things slowly if I want her to believe I’m serious.
Not too slow, though, because I have little doubt that Ryker will sniff us out eventually. He’s my number two, the person I trust more than anyone else in the world, but I don’t trust him not to take Chloe from me.
He’s already broken the rules once when it comes to her, not that I can blame him.
She’s perfect.
Sweet and innocent, but with a fire that draws you in.
There’s a reason both the Lombardi boys were so taken with her, and there’s a reason Ryker and I have since been dragged into her orbit.
But only one of us can have her, and it’s going to be me.
Tugging the hair at the back of her head softly, I trail kisses down her throat, licking and sucking on the soft skin as I go.
I want to taste her everywhere, want to make her beg for more, only to plead for me to stop. I want to overwhelm her with so many sensations she can’t tell where she ends and I begin.
But first I need to make her my wife.
Preferably before Ryker and Ronan tick off too many of my potential locations.
It won’t take him long. He’s one of the best hunters I’ve ever met. Tenacious and unyielding, he can find just about anyone, and he has the added benefit of knowing me better than anyone else in the world.
The fact Ronan knows his way around a computer is an added problem, but not one I’m as concerned about. After all, he and his family have been looking for me for years and have never come close to finding me.
Chloe’s hands fist into my shirt, tugging me closer despite herself. It’s going to take some time to convince her that marrying me is the right decision, but I have faith she’ll get there.
And even if she doesn’t, it’s still happening.
She can have anything she wants in this world, as long as she’s my wife.
A soft moan falls from her swollen lips when I find a particularly sensitive spot beneath her jaw.
“So responsive, Mama,” I murmur against her impossibly soft skin.
“King, please,” she whimpers, and the sound of my name on her lips is almost enough to make me blow without her ever touching me.
Fuck.
There is a very cold shower in my future.
“What do you need, Chloe?”
She tugs at my shirt again but drags her bottom lip between her teeth rather than answering.
Lifting the hand from around her waist, I free the swollen pillow, tracing the softness with my thumb.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” I rumble. “You’re worth every single second I’ve waited for you.”
Green pools flash with uncertainty, but I cut off her question before she can ask it. Maybe if I can keep her drunk on lust, I can get her to say “I do” without a fight.
Even as I think it, I know it’s not going to happen. Chloe is nothing if not headstrong, and it’s one of the things that made me fall for her.
The weeks we spent together all those years ago, while she was dealing with the loss of her parents, the man she thought she would marry, and the baby she barely had a chance to long for, she was always sassy and willing to put me in my place.
I’ve regretted not making her mine back then. As shitty as it sounds, she was vulnerable and heartbroken, and it would have been easy to convince her marrying me was the best choice she could make. But not only would that make me an asshole, it also would have led to her resenting me.
She would have spent most of her time alone, locked up in a penthouse and probably miserable.
Sending her away was the best thing I could have done for both of us at the time, but it won’t be happening again.
I graze my teeth over her bottom lip, dragging a needy moan from the woman in my arms. She feels so small against me, so right. Like this is where she was always meant to be.
Chloe steps closer until there’s no space between us, and she can certainly feel my hardness pressed against her stomach.
My cock begs to be released, but it’s safer where it is. I refuse to embarrass myself the first time I fuck her, and I’m too worked up right now.
If I let her touch me, if I let my dick anywhere near Chloe’s pretty little holes, I’m going to blow my load immediately.
“King,” she murmurs against my lips, an ounce of hesitance in her tone. “We can’t do this.”
“Can’t do what, Mama?”
She sucks in a breath at the use of the nickname, her eyes pressing closed for a beat before staring up at me with so much uncertainty it makes my chest ache.
My poor girl has been through so much, has survived things no one else would, and I long to take care of her, to take away all her worries and just let her be.
“Any of this,” she whispers. “Now or ever.”
“Because you don’t want it, or because you don’t think you should?” I ask, forcing my hold on her to remain gentle.
I always knew this was going to be a hard sell, made even harder by the reappearance of the Lombardi brothers and her newfound attachment to my best killer, but I know I can talk her around.
With time she’ll see why this is the right path for her.
Chloe’s lips part but quickly snap shut again. Either she’s not certain which it is, or she doesn’t want to admit it out loud.
I brush my thumb across her cheek, and she leans into my touch like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Tell me why this can’t happen, Mama. Tell me why you can’t be mine.”
Her bottom lip disappears between her teeth again. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to hurt you.” Tears gather at the corners of her eyes, and my chest tightens at the sight.
There’s nothing I hate more than watching Chloe cry. The idea that I can’t fix whatever plagues her is unacceptable to me, regardless of how irrational that thought may be.
“You’re not going to hurt me, and I’m not going to hurt you,” I assure her. “You don’t have to run anymore. All you have to do is let me take care of you. Let me take care of everything.”
The tears she was trying to hold at bay fall against her cheeks a moment before she shoves at my chest, forcing me back a step and allowing her to dip beneath my arm.
“Don’t make pretty promises you can’t keep, Kingston.” She swipes at the tears, but they’re quickly replaced by more.
“Chloe—”
“No,” she snaps. “I’m your prisoner here. You won’t let me leave. You won’t let me talk to Camilla. You won’t tell me what the hell is going on besides cryptic claims.” She chokes on a sob, but she takes a step back when I reach for her. “You’re just the latest in a long line of captors.”
She’s gone before I can respond, and truthfully, I don’t know what I would say even if I could.
One way or another, Chloe will become my wife. I just hope it’s by choice rather than me having to force her hand.