Chapter 18 Kingston
Kingston
The room was annoyingly dark, save for the glowing stars that I’d pressed into the ceiling above Presley’s bed.
Gio was asleep next to her, and at some point, he’d turned the television off, thrusting the room into shadows.
Presley slept, or at least it seemed like she was.
I had stared down at her exactly three times because each time that I did, the blanket had shifted, revealing more of her skin that I didn’t need to see.
Honestly, I was grateful once the TV was turned off, just so I didn’t have to keep seeing the way her tits had pressed up against the soft duvet cover or how her dark hair looked against her creamy skin.
The color of her hair reminded me of the soil I used to run my fingers through.
The one thing that used to balance me. I saw that color and thought of my dreams and how they so easily rested against her neck, in silky waves.
Removing my finger from hovering over her collarbone, I closed my eyes and curled my fingers into a fist.
I should be in the barn, or on my way to California, literally anywhere else other than lying in bed next to her. But fuck she was persistent. Why couldn’t I just let her go, break her heart, and leave her once and for all?
It’s what I’d told Gio I’d do… I told him I would, but he had to know what it would do to me.
What it would do to her…if the tables were turned, there would be no way I’d ask him to give her up.
I’d never be able to live with myself if he ever hurt in that way.
Didn’t seem to matter though, that I’d effectively carved out a place in my chest that she once resided in.
It was always easier for the nice guy to get the girl, not the toxic one, ridden by his trauma and all the bullshit that convoluted his head.
Gio deserved this life. I deserved the shadows his would cast.
Slipping off the bed, I wandered through the room, trailing my fingers over the finished trim and walls. My eyes slid shut as I padded down the stairs.
One. Two. Three. I began counting, remembering exactly how much effort it took to nail the boards in place to finish each step.
Once I was on the bottom floor, my eyes fluttered open as I moved to the kitchen and began finding food.
I was starving, after all the emotions of the day and the ones through the night.
I located turkey and cheese and made a sandwich, which I consumed in nearly three bites.
I followed that up with grapes and a tall glass of water.
By the time I turned away from the fridge, I let a colorful curse fly.
“Sorry,” Presley apologized, while tucking her hands over her chest. She had slipped into the shirt I had taken off earlier and had left on the floor.
I ignored what that did to me, that she’d been in my shirt earlier when I found her this morning, and now again.
I wasn’t sure what that meant, especially because Gio’s was right next to mine.
“It’s fine.” I finally replied while cleaning up my mess.
Presley toyed with the butter dish, seemingly at peace with the darkened house. A tiny slice of moonlight flowed in through the kitchen window, and a bit more from where we’d left the curtains open.
“This house is better than I ever imagined.”
I carefully set my plate inside the sink. “Yeah?”
Presley tilted her head up and stared. “Yeah…the tiny details especially.”
“Well, Gio knows you pretty well,” I answered, while gesturing toward the room. I felt slightly awkward because I was still in my boxers, no shirt or even socks on.
Her eyes trailed over my bare chest, and the same old ink that hadn’t changed since she last ran her fingernails over each one of them. I couldn’t bring myself to add anything that might not ever be exposed to her touch.
“Gio didn’t build me this house,” Presley said matter-of-factly, drawing an invisible line in the butter dish.
My head was already nodding. “He did—”
She shocked me by stepping around the counter and getting directly in front of me. Her head tilted back once more, those electric blue eyes on fire as she stared up at me. “Stop lying to me.”
“I’m no—”
She raised her hand faster than I could process and slapped me across the face. My head jerked to the side as my eyes stung with tears merely from being hit so hard.
“Stop it.” Her voice was a whisper, an anguished prayer.
I felt empowered to see how far she’d go to get me to stop. “Gio planned out every detail, hired the contractors, and gutted the whole place by himself.”
Another slap landed against my cheek, but I had started walking toward her, making her back up.
“He didn’t focus on anything else for months, Presley. Almost an entire year, he toiled in this fucking house. All so you would have a place to finally belong. Because he knew better than anyone that you’ve never felt like you really fit anywhere.”
“There was one place I fit,” she whispered on a sob while her ass hit the kitchen table.
I stared down at her. “Where?”
“Between you and Gio, you idiot. You two have been my roots, my wings, my entire origin story. Even when you leave, even when you’re not even really here when you return. My soul is still tied to yours, which is why this game you’re playing is so fucking stupid.”
“I’m not playing a—” She lifted her hand to slap me again, but I gripped her wrist and then automatically went for the other when she lifted that one. Bringing her wrists together, I held them above her head as I leaned forward, covering her body with my own.
My mouth trailed over the column of her throat, hovering the smallest amount.
“Why do you keep hitting me?”
She fought against my hold, but I kept her in place, with her hands pinned above her head.
“You told me if I touched you, you’d touch me back.”
I couldn’t help the laugh that slipped from me or the way my cock swelled in my boxers.
“You’re such a fucking brat, Presley,” I whispered against her ear, right before biting down on the lobe.
She lifted her hips the smallest bit. “And you’re such a fucking prick, and yet you’re hard.”
Even hearing her say that had my dick twitch and a groan slipping from my mouth.
“What is it you want from me?” I asked, almost desperate for her to just spell it the fuck out. I knew she was still angry with me for what I did to her last year. I knew she carried so much hurt that she might not ever get over what I did to her.
Shifting her head so her lips were near the side of my face, she whispered in reply, “I want you to stop calling me Presley. I want you to call me your queen again. I want you to stop pretending that you’re not going to be a part of my future.
I want you to handle me the way you’ve always handled me. ”
“And how’s that?” I inched closer, allowing my erection to press against her thigh.
So fucking tempting.
She wet her lips and then went lax in my arms. “Like I’m yours. Broken, whole, hurting, happy. Whatever I’ve ever felt, you always made room for it.”
“And what do you feel right now?” I was even closer, and I knew she could feel my thickness against her thigh because she let out a small gasp.
Her lips lifted again, and this time I pulled her closer to the edge so she could grind against my cock through my boxers.
“I feel desperate. I need you to touch me. I need you to help me navigate this new hole in my chest that Adrian left behind.”
My stomach tilted and soured. I didn’t want to help her with anything Adrian related, but I had the unfortunate disposition of being in love with her, so I’d do whatever she asked of me. Even if it was to simply touch her, to make her feel so she could grieve the man who took her from me.
My heart shattered the smallest bit as I saw the lone tear slide down the side of her face. I moved so my tongue swiped at it, removing it from staining her skin.
Then I whispered softly, “Okay, mi reina.”
She let out a sob as I released her wrists, and they came up, wrapping around my neck.
Her mouth found mine in a frenzied rush.
My hands moved under her shirt and spread her thighs so I fit between them.
Using my fingers, I slid through her slick center with a hiss.
She was completely soaked and ready for me.
Lifting her hips, I tossed her leg over my shoulder and lowered my face until I was tasting that sweet wetness that coated her smooth pussy lips.
She let out a sharp cry as I worked my tongue over her clit and then remained there, gently tugging at it and playing with it before pushing inside of her.
I moved slow, and deliberately, drawing desperate sounds from her.
Ones that would likely wake Gio, but I was doing this for her.
I had to stop worrying that he’d walk away. I had to trust that what she said was true. Her roots started between the both of us; if one of us were to walk away, it would damage the entire integrity of who she is and fuck everything up beyond repair.
My face was soaked as I sucked and took my fill of her cunt, and when she was about to come, I lowered her hips back to the table.
“No. Please, Kingston,” she sobbed while still shifting, desperate for friction.
“Relax,” I whispered, while pressing a kiss to her neck. “I know you need to come, but I want to know how far you’ll go to get your release.”
“Kingston,” she begged.
I picked her up and carried her with me to one of the kitchen chairs and sat down with my back against the wood, then settled her so she was straddling me. She let out a sultry moan as her pussy pressed against my swollen cock, still concealed by fabric, but my weeping tip had soaked it.
With my lips at her ear, I whispered, “We’re going to play truth or pass. You pass, you miss out on getting to rub against me. You tell me what I want to know, you’ll get to do whatever you want with me.”
“I want you to fuck me, Kingston,” she rasped in reply.