Chapter 46 I do.
REX
"Rex!" Rach shrieked out a laugh as the kitchen counter hit the back of her legs.
Grinning at her, I stacked my hands on either side of her hips and murmured, "You shrieked?"
"Nyx and Giulia will be back soon. I don't want them to see me naked in the kitchen."
I arched a brow at her. "If Maverick hasn't told them to steer clear of this place until Monday, his mouth'll be meeting my fist the next time I see him."
She snorted. "Have you kicked Rain and Harlow out as well? This is a YMCA for Sinners now, don't you know?"
My brow furrowed. "He's staying here?" Then, before she could answer, I held up a hand. "You're on the kitchen counter, Rachel, and the only thing I’m intending to eat off of this marble, sweetheart, is you. I don't want to be thinking about business yet. That's for Monday."
"You've put off thoughts of the MC for a while now…,” she mused.
"It can wait some more." I narrowed my gaze upon her. "Eighteen fucking years they've had my complete dedication. Shit's going to change because I'm not about to let them come between us again."
Her cheeks flushed even as a hint of surprise peeped into her gaze. "You mean that?"
"I do."
Her chin dipped, the move surprisingly coy. I reached up and slipped my hand along that burnished cheek, murmuring, "This is going to happen, Rach."
"I'm glad," she said, her eyes meeting mine.
"No more putting business between us. No more closing each other out. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
"I come home here every night."
She swallowed as if she were nervous, then just as I got ready to argue with her, she said, tone as clear as day, "Home. Yes."
I smirked at her and, with my free hand, cupped her knee, then started to smooth it along the inner curve of her thigh.
"Technically, this is my home," I mocked as I drifted my fingertips over her yoga pant-covered pussy.
She squirmed against the marble, but her legs parted, and if that wasn't an invitation for more, I didn't know what was.
"My baby mama needs to eat," I told her teasingly, knowing she’d hate me calling her that—the crinkle at the bridge of her nose confirmed that suspicion. “But I need some sugar first and then I'll make you a sandwich."
She licked her lips at my words then whimpered when I bowed my head and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her throat. I traced small pecks over the arch of her collarbone toward her breasts.
My hands dropped to the hem of her sweatshirt—technically, it was mine—and as I started to draw it higher along her abdomen, I came across the thick swell of her stomach.
My kid.
Fuck.
In a rush to see more, I pulled back and drew the rest of the sweatshirt over her head, only taking care as her hair got tangled up at the end.
“You look good in my clothes,” I teased as I peered down at her nakedness, thanking Christ she wasn’t wearing a bra. “But you look better like this.”
Her smile was shy. “Good to know.”
I traced a finger along her collarbone, muttering, “Still the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my goddamn life.”
If my voice got thicker toward the latter half of that statement, then so be it.
I let that finger trail down to her nipple, and I watched it pucker beneath my touch. Stepping closer to her, my mouth mimicked the trail of my finger and I pressed a kiss to her collarbone, then slowly moved toward her tits.
Teasing one nipple with my breath, I brushed it with the tip of my tongue, not stopping until the crinkled flesh had become as tightly furled as a fresh rosebud. Only then did I continue my journey.
She angled herself backward, resting her weight on her hands. I let my lips glance over the hard roundness of her stomach because that was another minefield to battle but it could wait for tomorrow.
I let my tongue sweep along the band around her waist instead of spreading kisses over her bump like I wanted, then I murmured, “Lift your hips.”
She put her heels to the edge of the counter and shimmied into a bridge so that I could drag the waistband down over her ass and to her thighs. I swept them off all the way a couple seconds later.
“No panties,” I said thickly, eyes tangling with hers.
“Not today,” she retorted with a smirk which told me not to get my hopes up every time I saw her wearing these torture devices.
I tutted. “From now on?”
“Sometimes,” was all she’d concede.
Humming in approval, I moved my fingers to her thighs, shaped her knees with my fingertips, then slowly drew them apart.
Pressing my mouth to her navel, I moved down to her pussy, and then, I was where I wanted to be.
She scented of soap. She scented of Rach. She scented of my girl.
I growled as I let my tongue drift between her parted folds, flicking it against her clit before delving deeper. I grabbed one leg and angled it high on the counter, resting her foot on the marble so I could move in closer.
A hand drifted through my hair, her nails digging in deep as she released a guttural groan when I sucked on her clit before I thrust my tongue into her, tasting her essence. Tasting that sugar that was all fucking mine.
Groaning, I buried my face in her cunt, savoring something she rarely gifted me.
My nose rubbed against her clit as I sank into her, going as deep as I could, eating her out like the starving man I was.
She creamed against me beautifully, her groans and cries serenading me like a concert violinist.
She made better music than Mozart or Metallica.
Grunting as I fucked her with my tongue, I moved higher and suckled her clit. My hands longed to shape her belly, but her words to Wynter rang like a death knell in my head.
Instead, I pulled back to let a finger thrust into her. She immediately clutched at it. My other hand went to the one thigh that was still hanging limply against the counter, and I angled that high, too, so that she was spread out and open for me on the marble.
With a groan, I dove even deeper, wanting her to go wild, to be as free as I was when we were together and I let myself go.
I sucked on one of her labia then moved higher to nibble on her clit. She squeaked at that, which made me smirk, and I gave it some love by shaping it with my tongue tip.
As I feasted on her, she started to ride my face, hips rocking with an erratic rhythm that shattered my soul because this was how I remembered her.
I wanted this.
All of this.
All of her.
For-fucking-ever.
With a shriek, she came.
It was loud and raucous and everything I could ever want.
Her nails dug into my skull, her hands tugged at my hair, and she squeezed my head, greedy as she savored her orgasm.
As she came down, I continued to suck on her clit, gently though, just keeping her primed, letting her know this was round one.
Only when she soughed out a sob did I pull back.
Only then did I unfasten my zipper even though my dick had to have the tines imprinted on it from how fucking hard it had been pushing against the fly.
She watched me with dazed eyes as I freed my cock, and then as I pulled it out, she blew my fucking mind by reaching down and spreading her pussy lips apart.
My brains scrambled, a hunger for more hitting me—I wanted this.
I never wanted it to end.
I wanted her always.
I stepped closer, stepped home, and carefully shuffled her to the edge of the counter.
“Did you know this would be the perfect height for me to fuck you on?” I rumbled, letting my lips ghost over hers.
A snicker of laughter escaped her, making me grin. “No, King,” she retorted, her voice hoarse. “I didn’t imagine that when I was picking out counters.”
“Shame on you.” I shook my head then winked at her before I started a kiss that had her arms coming to clasp my neck.
She wriggled against me, all her nakedness rubbing up against mine, and she kissed me back.
She fucking kissed me back, as hungry as me. As desperate.
I lost it then.
Lost my soul to her because I’d given her my heart a lifetime ago.
As she drew from me, I drew from her, and together, our tongues fucked as I reached between us and thrust my dick into her so that all of us became whole.
I released a guttural grunt just as her high whimper drifted from her as I filled her to the max.
Her legs shuffled. I felt one angle itself, her heel back on the counter as she tilted herself into me so that I could go even deeper.
With a groan, I slid in that extra inch. “I love you, Rachel.”
She mewled, “Love you too, King.”
I wanted those words tattooed on me.
Indy wouldn’t call me a pussy if I asked her to do that, would she?
Nipping Rachel’s bottom lip, I pulled back and rumbled, “You ready, princess?”
She sighed, pecked my mouth, nodded.
Slowly at first, I retreated, hissing as my cock abandoned the cosseting silk of her cunt.
Her nails buried themselves into my shoulders as I slowly pushed back in.
Slowly, she hissed.
Slowly, I grunted.
It went on like that a couple times.
I lived and died by that adverb—slowly.
This wasn’t the first desperate time.
This was the beginning of forever.
I wanted it to be good.
Hissing when my cock was left out in the cold, she proceeded to light up my life—her heels were suddenly burrowed in my ass and she was snapping, “King, if you won’t fuck me, I’ll fuck myself.”
Grinning at her, feeling the beads of sweat at my temple, the hammer of my heart, I silently told her to have at it.
And she did.
Sitting half upright, she ground into me, moving around so that she could ride me, and hell if that didn’t feel like heaven.
As she wriggled and writhed, her cunt called me home, and when she was screaming with frustration, unable to give herself the pounding she so desperately needed, I curved my arms around her then, rounding my back, did as she demanded.
I fucked her.
Hard, raw.
I gave myself unto her.
All of me.
And I was gifted all of her back as she fucked me in return.
It was a mutual pounding as we tore pleasure from each other’s bodies, and she was screaming as she came, her pussy muscles doing the salsa around my shaft as it demanded I drench it in my cum.
I kissed her as I let her cunt milk me, only stopping when my brain was bleached from the bomb blast that was an orgasm with my woman.
She fell back against the counter as if her muscles had turned to goo, and I followed her.
How long we stayed that way, my face burrowed in her tits, her legs loosely holding my hips, I had no idea.
I only moved because I heard the sound of footsteps on the front stoop, then the door clamored as it was opened and slammed shut.
I felt her panic, but I soothed her by smoothing my hand down her arm and hollering, “Rain, if you don’t want to see my naked ass then you’ll keep yours outta the kitchen.”
“Rex!” Rachel snarled in my ear, making me smirk.
“I prefer it when you call me King,” I teased.
“Aw, man, you’re fucking in the kitchen?” Rain whined.
A snort sounded, and a low voice muttered, “Had to happen eventually.”
My brow furrowed at that, but Rachel said on a whisper, “Harlow. They’ve been hanging out.”
“Kitchen’s are supposed to be hygienic,” Rain complained.
“I’ll bleach the fuckin’ counter afterward,” I retorted. “And when you get your own woman, I’ll remind you of this conversation, huh?”
I heard a grunt, then the stomping of feet as both men took the wisest course of action—they made a retreat.
“He’s never going to let me live that down,” Rachel groused, her cheeks bright pink.
“It’s something he’s gonna have to get used to.”
She rolled her eyes, but the slightest smile curved her lips.
It had been a long fucking time, too fucking long since I’d seen that, but I knew what it meant even if she didn’t.
Rachel was happy.
I’d spend the rest of my fucking life making sure she went to sleep and started the day with that smile.
And that was more of a vow than anything I could make to her in a church.