Chapter 25 #2
For instance, last week, we argued over the new couch we bought.
We wanted different ones and King pushed hard for his choice.
He pushed so hard I wanted to punch him in the face at one point.
It turned out he wanted that couch because he was convinced it would be better for my back.
He also wanted it because he knows I almost always fall asleep in front of the television at night, and he believed I’d be more comfortable on it than the smaller couch I wanted.
None of his reasons were about him, and when I realised that, I knew he’d stolen another piece of my heart.
And right now, while he’s trying to figure out how to teach our son about being a good man, I’m falling all over again because I’m reminded he’s the best man I know.
King might be an asshole at times, and he might be moody and bossy, but he’s always, always, trying to give his best to me and our children.
“Did you talk with Hailee about this yesterday? About how they’re handling it with Brax?” he asks.
“We only had enough time to have a quick conversation about it, so we didn’t really get into that. We’re having coffee together this morning.”
He nods. “I’ll talk with Travis this afternoon.”
I place a hand on his hip, my fingers digging into his skin lightly. “I love you.”
His brows lift as he looks down at me, but even as he’s looking at me questioningly, his body’s moving into mine like it’s the most natural thing for him to do next. “Because I’m gonna talk with Travis?”
I dig my fingers a little harder into his hip and smile at him. “No. Just because.”
His hand comes to my throat. “That’s not an answer, Lily,” he says in the rumbling, demanding way he’s perfected over the years.
As we come together skin-to-skin, I curve a leg around his. I then reach for the back of his neck while he grips my ass and lifts me into his arms. My back presses against the cool tiles and I wrap my arms and legs around him. “Because you’re a good man.”
His nostrils flare and he growls, “Fuck,” right before his lips crash down onto mine and he kisses me like he’s starved for me.
It will never matter how many times I have King’s lips on mine, his arms around me, his hands all over me, and his body against mine—it will never be enough.
I’m as starved for him as he is for me. Even on the days I have him more than once.
He kisses me so thoroughly, so deeply, so fiercely that I’m not sure I’ll be able to think straight for the rest of the day.
When he finally comes up for air, I say, “I need you in me. Now.” When he drops his gaze to my throat, I grip him and say, “No. Whatever you’re thinking of doing to me, we’re not doing it now.
I just want you to fuck me. Right now.” Because he is thinking of doing something other than just fucking me.
I know that by the look in his eye. And whatever it is, it’ll take time.
He curses again, but he gives me what I want.
A moment later, he’s got me on my feet facing the wall, hands to the tiles, cheek to the tiles, practically begging him to hurry up while he takes longer than I want to get his dick inside me.
Curving a hand around my throat, he brings his mouth to my ear. “Tonight, you’re giving me what I want.”
Those words flood my veins with even more need. They’re a demand I’ll happily comply with because they’re a promise of pleasure.
“King,” I beg. “Hurry up.”
He thrusts inside me on a deep growl and my eyes squeeze closed when he fills me. I moan, my hands flattening against the tiles and all the air inside breathing out of me.
King keeps one hand around my neck and brings his other hand around to my pussy. He rubs my clit exactly how he knows I need him to while fucking me.
Dropping his mouth to my shoulder, he rasps a string of filthy words before grazing my skin with his teeth. I hear him, but I can’t make sense of what he’s saying. Not when I’m this distracted by the feel of him inside me.
And then I’m coming.
My orgasm is intense.
It arches my back.
Reaches for my toes.
Pulses through my veins.
I’m in the middle of it when King tightens his grip around my neck and thrusts hard inside me one last time before coming.
After, he takes a moment before pulling out and turning me to face him.
I look up at him, taking in the scar on his cheek, the lines on his face, the love in his eyes.
The thing that parenting with King has taught me?
That there are exceptional men out there who will go to the ends of the earth for their family.
That parenting might be the hardest damn job on the planet, but sharing that job with one of those exceptional men makes it so you’re never alone even when you feel the alonest you’ve ever felt.
And it’s taught me that I can do hard things because I have a man right by my side who will help me do even the most impossible thing.
I never had any of this with my first husband, but I have it all and more with King.
“I love you for so many reasons, King, but mostly I just love you because you’re you.”
My husband can be a man of few words, but he’s never a man of few emotions.
With me, anyway. Most people don’t see all his emotions.
They don’t know how to read him like I do.
All I have to do to read King is look in his eyes.
His heart is always there for me. It’s in the way he watches me.
And right now, he’s watching me so intently with eyes that tell me I’m his everything.
He doesn’t verbalise any of this because that’s not his way.
Instead, he shows me all this like he has for nineteen years.
Brushing a kiss across my lips, he says, “I’m going to cook breakfast and the kids are going to sit and eat with us this morning.
Then, I’m going to spend this morning thinking about everything you’ve said.
This afternoon, after I talk with Travis, I want the three of us to sit down together and go over shit. We’re gonna make changes, Lily.”
“Okay, but maybe you and I need to discuss those changes first.”
He nods. “Can you drop into the clubhouse around lunchtime?”
I mentally work through my day and am halfway through that when he adds, “If not, I’ll put some shit off and come home before Travis gets home from school so we can talk.”
“No, I should be able to make it to the clubhouse today.”
“If you can’t, I’ll make shit happen on my end.”
I pull his face back down to mine so I can kiss him again.
I take my time with this kiss, deepening it and losing myself in it all over again. Losing myself in him all over again. If I could have one thing today, it would be hours and hours spent alone with this man.
When I finally let him go, he looks down at me and growls, “You need to get all the kids out of the house next weekend to sleepovers or camps or any-fucking-thing that gives me forty-eight hours with your cunt.”
“Only if you promise to bring me flowers.”
King gives me that same look he gave me earlier. The one that says he loves me but doesn’t know what to do with me at times. I mean, the man has never brought me flowers, so we both know he’s not about to start now. I just like to play with him sometimes.
He then takes charge and gets us both clean before leaving me to get dressed and ready for the day while he goes to make breakfast and round our kids up to eat together.
I take my time getting ready while thinking about the day ahead.
King and I might be in the middle of a teenage shitstorm with three teens still under our roof, but there’s no denying that right now he’s made it so I feel like we could take on the world and survive together.
King’s POV
7:00 a.m.
“Travis! Breakfast is ready,” I call out as I finish plating the bacon and eggs I’ve cooked.
“He’s in a fuck of a mood this morning,” Cade says, reaching for a mug to make coffee.
I eye my son. “Watch your language around your mother and sister, Cade.”
Meredith rolls her eyes as she walks into the kitchen. “Honestly, Dad, you never stop swearing. It’s not like Mum and I haven’t heard it all before.”
“She’s got a point,” Cade agrees.
I hit him with the look that tells him not to push this.
I never imagined I’d tell someone to watch their language, but I’ve been telling my sons to do exactly that from the age they started swearing.
I don’t give a fuck if they swear with their friends or around me, but I’ve made it clear they’re to watch it when they’re with anyone else.
And contrary to popular opinion of my kids’, I’ve toned my shit down over the years.
“Can you please set the table, Meredith?” I ask.
She looks at me with a less-than-impressed expression. “The gender inequality that goes on in this house is more than noted.”
Lily joins us as our daughter expresses her thoughts. The smile that lifts her lips at the ends is more than noted by me. My wife finds it highly amusing to sit back and watch my kids school me.
I shift my attention to Meredith. “I asked you to set the table, not to give up a fundamental right.”
Meredith shifts her weight onto one leg like she’s settling in for a debate. “Why did you ask me instead of Cade?”
“Because you’re the one standing in front of the cutlery drawer.”
“That is the worst reason of life, Dad.”
“It’s not. Now, can we hurry this up and get the table set?” I say, my impatience flaring.
Meredith has other ideas. She doesn’t move. “Are you aware of just how often you ask me to do jobs around the house that have been historically performed by women in the domestic space?”
Christ.
“I’m aware that our breakfast is going cold the longer we stand here and argue over this,” I say. When she continues to stare at me like she’s got a fuckload more of this to hit me with, I jerk my chin at her and say, “Go and sit at the table. I’ll set the damn thing.”
She sighs. “No, I’ll do it. But you missed the entire point.”