Chapter 105
REX
When I woke up and she wasn’t there, I stared blankly at her pillow, almost as if looking hard enough would let me figure out her location.
A yawn escaped me, tiredness had my eyes drooping, but I wanted to know where she was so I could check up on her.
Her sleep wasn’t perfect; the nightmares weren’t going anywhere, but she seemed better at dealing with them. At least, I hadn’t woken up with her punching me in the past week, so I considered that massive progress.
With another yawn, I got to my feet, rolling off the bed before I could fall asleep. I dragged on my boxer briefs, trudged out into the hall and down the stairs.
When I found her in the kitchen, I smiled, noticing she was diving into one of the endless tubs of ice cream her friend Hunter had sent her.
She caught me watching her in the doorway, and she waggled the tub at me. “Want some?”
About to say no, I blinked when I realized I actually could eat some.
Yawning yet again, I moved toward the table as she shifted from her chair. Accepting the silent invitation, I seated myself then smiled as she perched on my lap.
She dug into the tub then twisted to let the spoon hover in front of my lips.
I opened, let her feed me, and savored the taste of the frozen treat.
“Did you know that you don’t eat as many sweets when you’re sad?”
Finishing the bite, I pondered that. “Really?”
“Really.” She peeped at me from under her lashes as she enjoyed some ice cream. “Thought you might go into withdrawals.”
“You’re sweet enough for me.”
“That was so sugary you gave me diabetes.”
“Can you catch it with words?” I teased, lips quirking before I opened them to accept more ice cream.
Her eyes warmed with her smile, and it had heat unfurling inside me. “You can catch anything with words.”
A single solid truth unfurled inside me and it had me pressing my mouth to her temple and telling her, “Not sure how I’d have gotten through these last couple weeks without you, baby girl.”
She shrugged. “That works both ways.”
“I doubt it.” I swallowed. “Thank you for sticking by me.”
She’d seen me do things she shouldn’t have had to see. Things I’d have preferred her to be in the dark about.
“I don’t consider it sticking by you.”
“No?”
“Where else would I be? Why would I leave?”
“A lot of women would be scared.”
Snorting, Rach retorted, “Why would I be scared of you? For you? Hell, yes. But not of you.” She clucked her tongue as she scraped the last couple spoonfuls of ice cream from the container.
“You’ve seen too much violence in your short life.”
“Some people attract it, I think,” she mused. “Like shit and flies.”
“Which are you?”
She shoved me. “I’m the honey and the bees.”
“You picked the metaphor, not me,” I teased, sliding my hand up and down her arm. “What woke you up?”
Her smile was oddly bright. “Grizzly,” she chirped. “But I got him this time.”
“You got him?”
“I did. They forced me in the living room—” She said it without tensing up and with such ease, I had to blink.
“There was nothing to grab, but I remember I was eating ice cream when they came in.” Rach grabbed the spoon she’d just been using and studied the handle.
“I should have stabbed one of them with it.”
My brows rose. “That’s what you did in your nightmare?”
“Yeah. Made me crave ice cream.” She pulled a face. “Weird, huh?”
“Nah.” I wished she had fucking stabbed them. That’d make both of us feel a hell of a lot better. “I’m just glad you’re dealing with the nightmares better.”
“You like not being smacked in the gut whenever I close my eyes around you?”
“Well, I didn’t want to say anything…” I drawled, which made her snicker.
“Such a gentleman.”
“Only for you.”
“The best kind,” she said on a hum, angling her head back so that she could rest it against my shoulder.
Taking that for the invitation it was, I pressed my mouth to hers, gracing her with a gentle peck before I licked her lips, savoring the remnants of the vanilla ice cream she’d been eating.
She tasted better than that.
Letting my tongue explore her to my heart’s content and given my body’s craving for her, I reached around her waist to shape her curves, cupping her tit, squeezing it gently as she nipped my bottom lip and started to give as good as she got.
Tender affection surged into urgent need before that was swallowed up by a hunger so fierce we were both slaves to it.
Twisting around, our mouths still united, she moved to straddle me. Her weight shifted, and I felt more pressure on my lap. She angled her hips, rocking them slightly as she began to grind into me.
No way in hell was I going to complain.
She dragged her fingers through my hair, pulling away so that she could move down and suck on my throat, nibbling the sinews before tonguing the area.
I wasn’t as sensitive as I knew she was, but when she grazed me with her teeth, I gritted mine and let my hands finds her hips.
With her wearing an oversized tee, I took immediate advantage and dragged at the hem, tightening it about her waist, clenching the soft cotton in my fist, even as I tugged it up.
With that one hand, I supported her, encouraging her to grind down harder against my dick, but I also exposed her ass to anyone who might look through the door.
It was a stark reminder of where we were.
“What is it about this goddamn kitchen and us?” I groused.
A laugh escaped her, and I felt the curve of her lips against my pulse as she slid her tongue over the throbbing flesh. “Where better to feast than here?”
God, I needed to taste that smile.
Moving one hand to the back of her head, I snagged her ponytail in my fist and tilted her face down so I could kiss her.
Thrusting my tongue against hers, I swallowed her groan as I reached between her legs and found her slick and hot and ready for me.
Rubbing her clit with my fingertips, I breathed for her as she froze atop me. Her heart pounded and she seemed to quiver in place, her legs throbbing with tension as she used her tiptoes to stay upright.
When she began to writhe against me, I grinned and murmured, “So wet for me, baby girl.”
She shuddered as I slid my hand down so that the butt of it was rubbing along her clit and I could thrust a finger into her.
She was always so fucking tight that I hissed with need. No wonder she had a chokehold on my dick when this was the only place it wanted to be.
Gently testing her bottom lip, biting it hard enough to leave imprints, I pressed down on the front wall of her pussy, finding that spongy tissue that’d make her squirm even more on top of me.
Of course, that was when, upstairs, there was a noise.
This fucking house really was turning into a hostel.
Both of us stilled, our eyes wide, lips locked again, my finger inside her as footsteps sounded, a door creaked.
Slowly, I kept up the grinding motion of the heel of my hand against her clit.
A muted sob escaped her and I watched—I fucking watched—her eyes blur. Reality faded and delirious pleasure overtook them.
Enthralled by her, I continued with my teasing, keeping it slow, too slow to do much for her, but enough to hold her on the edge.
I didn’t want to fucking know who was doing what upstairs—I still wasn’t sure if Harlow and Rain were into each other that way—but when the sound of steps on the staircase drifted toward us, she mewled against my mouth and my hand sped up.
I kissed her to swallow the noise, but I was ready to cover her ass, just waiting for whoever it was to burst into the kitchen—especially with the light on.
Talk about an open invitation.
It could’ve been Parker, Rain, or Harlow—even with Nyx and Giulia gone, it was still a full fucking house.
But we were in luck.
Whoever it was, and I’d bet it was Harlow because he avoided people like they had the plague, he moved over to the front door and pulled it open.
Just as a light flickered on outside, her pussy clamped down around me, and she tore her mouth from mine to push her hand to it to still the cries.
As she tensed up when the pleasure hit, I let her grind down harder, to the point where my dick felt the pressure and started to get jealous, even as I was enjoying watching her get off.
When she was done, she pressed her forehead against mine and panted as if she’d run a race.
But we weren’t done.
I retreated, dragging my finger out of her slit, enjoying her hissed breath brushing up against my lips, all while I delved between us to drag my cock out.
She knew what I was doing because she angled her hips, tilted her ass back, and let me find her gate.
Gracing me with a choked cry as she slid down onto me, gravity did me the favor of impaling her on my cock.
Each inch was hard won because her cunt was clutching at me, not about to welcome me after she’d come, but she was the one who was squirming to fill herself up with my dick. As for me, I just sat back and enjoyed the show.
When her ass was sitting on my lap, her knees digging into my hips, I grabbed her butt cheeks and spread them apart, letting my fingers dip in so I had a firm hold on her.
She’d have yelped as I surged to my feet, but she was aware enough to know her limits, and her mouth notched itself to my shoulder.
Fuck if that didn’t feel good when she bit down.
The pressure of her sinking onto me was so intense, my eyes almost rolled into the back of my head.
Each footstep was a sweet torment as I aimed for the stairs and slowly walked us up the steps. Each one was bittersweet. The jolt of each thrust had me seeing fucking stars but concentrating on not falling was a pain in the ass.
This was definitely not one of my better ideas.
Except, she was as into it as I was, and the way she kissed me and clung to me made me feel like we’d never been closer.
I didn’t speed up the stairs, just kept it slow, and that seemed to drive her even wilder. By the time I made it to the top, she was panting and her writhing had me burning to fuck her hard.
As I walked us down the hall toward our room, when I closed the door, she cried out, “Oh. Dear. God. King, fuck me. Please. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”
The chant was the best song in the world.
Taking advantage of our privacy, I dragged her shirt off, realizing that it was one of mine at the last moment.
Loving that she was wearing my stuff, I thrust my tongue into her mouth to shut up that chant of hers before I shot my wad too soon. The sound of my woman, desperate for our union, was like setting a bomb off in my brain.
I pressed her onto the bed, positioned her legs so that her knees were spread wide, resting against the mattress, and I placed my palms on the backs and used that as a fulcrum.
Then I gave her what she asked for.
Her hand snapped to her mouth as she cried out at the first, fast thrust, and the sight of her, pussy full of my cock, lips spread wide, tits shaking, her curves on full display, was the most beautiful fucking thing I’d ever seen.
Unable to stop myself from touching her, I kept one hand pinning her knee down and the other shaping her tit, pinching the nipple before I moved back to her pussy.
She was so fucking wet, and I tested how full she was with the tips of my fingers, putting pressure on my cock but also on her slit.
Her back buckled at that, and she let loose a hoarse grunt that set off a cataclysmic wave of pleasure inside me.
The second she detonated, I did too.
Fast and hard, I pumped into her, not stopping until her pussy ceased that soul-sucking clutching that milked my dick to the point of exquisite agony.
Both of us slick with sweat, I collapsed on top of her and rolled us over so that I was underneath her and she was on top of me. My dick was still inside her, and the feeling of connection was so damn good that I took the first deep breath of, what felt like, the week.
She nuzzled into me, and I curved my arms around her after I dragged the duvet half over us.
My eyes drifted to a close as I felt her soft breaths turn into the little puffs of air that were her precursor to sleep.
As weird as it was to think this right now, a solid truth resonated around in my brain and I couldn’t escape it.
If this was what heaven felt like, no wonder Dad had wanted to go home to Mom.
Living without this again was untenable.
Living without her would be hell.
I hugged her tighter to me, only letting up when she wriggled against me in protest.
“King?” she complained sleepily.
“Sorry, baby,” I whispered. Gaze stark, I stared up at the ceiling where the reflection from the light on the veranda gleamed slightly. “Get some rest.”
She hummed. “You too.”
I pressed my lips to her forehead. “I will.”
As she did as I asked and finally got some rest, I stayed like that for a good, long while. Enough that I saw the light flicker off outside, enough that I heard the door open, enough that I listened to the creaking of the stairs as Harlow returned to his bedroom.
It should have been easy to fall asleep, but my mind was churning.
Because of him, because of Dad who I fucking missed even as I was furious with him, because of Wynter, because of the MC, because of every-fucking-thing.
Life was never still. I knew that. It was always in motion, and Harlow was a reminder of that. He’d brought chaos back into my world, after all. My temper hadn’t snapped in years until I’d watched Lever destroy something that mattered to Harlow just for the sake of it.
But Harlow was no longer a Prospect; he was a brother. He was another soul I had to protect, another man who’d become family…
Gently, I rubbed my hand up and down Rach’s back, taking and finding comfort in her.
Chaos might have darkened my door, but finally, she was mine.
My ring, which didn’t fit, would be on her finger the second it was resized. I’d been carrying that fucking thing around since I’d bought it when she was seventeen—just before everything had gone to hell.
When the baby was born, Rach would wear my ink, and I was scheduled in with Indy later this week for some of my own so she’d have official protection from the club.
Into the maelstrom, we’d come out swinging, and by having her at my side, that burden was so much easier to bear.
Not just an Old Lady, not just the First Lady, but the only lady worthy of reigning over this slice of hell with me.