She scrambled up, and I shuddered at the view. Jesus fucking Christ. I wasn’t a saint, but the sight of her naked body, needy and beautiful, would have anyone falling.
With a growl, I fisted myself, squeezing my erection from tip to base, and brought my shaft against her wet folds. Her back arched and I curled an arm around her hips, holding her still, and with one forceful thrust, I drove myself deep inside her.
“Fuck,” I hissed, and she let out a strangled moan, adjusting to my size. Her tight cunt stretched around my thick erection, spasming around it, and I feared I wouldn’t last long. She was as tight as a fist and her core pulsated around my length.
Liana’s golden mane blocked her face from my view. Gripping her hip with one hand, I brought my other up and wrapped it around her hair, tugging gently. She turned and gave me a glimpse of her beautiful profile.
Her body trembled as she arched against my groin with a soft whimper.
“Fuck me, Kingston. Finish what you started.” My lips curled with satisfaction as I pulled out, leaving only the tip inside her entrance, before slamming back into her tight pussy. “Oh… Fuck…”
The sounds she made were my undoing. I lost all semblance of control. I fucked her hard, pumping into her fast and deep. Her fingers clawed at the bedsheets, welcoming each thrust and milking me of everything I had left. Her hips rocked backward and filled the air with our grunts and moans as her arousal dripped between our bodies.
“You’re gonna wreck me.” My chest rattled with a growl, and each one of my thrusts brought us both closer to the edge. “But you’re coming with me.”
I plunged into her like a madman. Her knuckles gripping the bedsheets turned white. She pressed her face into the duvet, muffling her moans of pleasure. The way she milked my cock and whimpered my name brought me closer and closer to release.
A groan vibrated from my chest as I drove into her hard and stayed rooted there, the tip of my cock brushing against her inner walls. Liana quivered as a rush of wetness dripped onto the mattress. She moaned through her release, grinding against my cock. That was all it took to send me flying. My balls tightened, and I came with a roar, my seed spurting into her.
We both shuddered through our release, and then Liana collapsed onto the bed. My body on top of hers, my mouth on the back of her neck. We lay there like that for what felt like eternity, lost in the fog, until the pleasure wound down and—
I saw it.
My brows furrowed. I blinked, thinking my eyes must be deceiving me. Maybe I had finally lost my mind. I tried to breathe, fighting against the need to believe it and being too fucking scared to trust it was real.
“Kingston?” Her voice sounded far away. I pulled out of her, my cum dripping down her thighs. Liana sat up, but I gripped her hair. “Ouch. Let go of my hair,” she yelped.
Goddamn it. All this time… What could this… FUCK!
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I managed to say.
She turned and her eyes met mine. She attempted to push me away, but my grip on her hair was too strong. She winced, and a visible tremor rolled down her spine.
“I don’t know if this is some weird after-sex shit, but I’m not into it,” she growled. “Let go of my hair, psycho.”
My fingers curled around her silky strands, and I lifted them one last time. My heart came to a complete stop, the blood pumping through my veins.
Time slowed. My eyes landed on the marking I’d tattooed with my own hands all those years ago.
My legs weakened and I stumbled back from the bed, dropping to my knees.
All this fucking time, Louisa was with me.
Chapter 49Liana
Istared at Kingston on his knees, and before I could question him, he jumped to his feet and bolted out of the room.
My throat tightened as I stared at the empty space, immediately followed by an anger so deep I saw red. I gritted my teeth, my brain reasoning with me to let it go, but the vendetta brewed in my chest.
Pulling on a pair of shorts and a tank top, I stomped out of my bedroom and made my way toward his. I hammered on the door, then decided fuck this, and gave him the same courtesy he’d given me by barging in.
He was sitting on the side of the bed when I marched in, wearing nothing but pajama pants, his head in his hands and his gaze on the floor. A dangerous haze permeated the air, but I was too angry to heed its warning.
“What is your deal?” I snapped. “Every time you touch me, you leave me staring at your back—usually after you’ve dumped me onto the ground. I’m sick and tired of it.”
He didn’t look up.
My gaze roamed his bedroom, a bracelet of teeth dipped in silver and gold catching my eye. I narrowed my eyes as the whispers in my mind grew louder, but I quickly shut them down.
We’d settle this once and for all.
“Go back to your room,” he croaked, shadows moving in his eyes.
Silver rays from the moon filtered through the open windows, illuminating his half-naked body.
“Is it me?” I asked, my voice cracking. No answer, only heavy silence. “When are you finally going to tell me what I did? I’m sick of you speaking in riddles, I want real answers.”
Suddenly, I knew, this moment was it. This would determine the rest of our lives.
“It’s not—”
I cut him off. “If you give me one of those It’s not you, it’s me lines, I swear to God, Kingston, I’m going to murder you.”
He looked up at me then, and what I saw on his face was a brand-new emotion. The turmoil and warmth in it made my breath catch.
“Come here.”
My body didn’t even hesitate to obey the command.
I felt vulnerable as I padded toward him, every inch of me trembling with anger and anticipation. He parted his legs, and I stepped between them.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his hands skimming up the backs of my thighs with a featherlight touch. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” Who knew such simple words could hold such weight. “Will you forgive me?”
“You…” I inhaled a deep breath. “You confuse me.” He looked at me like he was waiting for me to catch up. “Don’t make me… sad.”
His fingers tightened on my thighs, digging into my flesh. “Do you regret it?”
I inhaled sharply. “I thought it was”—Incredible. My fingers laced through his dark hair—“intense.”
His jaw clenched. “But do you regret it?”
“No.” Maybe it made me the bad, selfish sister, but I didn’t. “Not even for a second.”
He let out a tense breath and pulled me closer, pressing his face into my stomach. A shudder erupted beneath my skin, warm from his soft touch.
“You’re mine. Fucking mine.” He bit the outline of my nipple through my shirt. “I’ll slaughter anyone who ever puts a finger on you again.”
“You’re not a good man.”
“I’m not.”
“Good. I don’t need a good man.” My heart pounded at an awkward rhythm, wisps of a memory creeping into the corners of my mind. “I don’t want to sleep alone,” I croaked, my voice too raw, too desperate, as his face blurred through the mist in my eyes. I straddled him and his fingers grew firmer on my thighs, the fiery heat of his palms burning through my skin.
“I have to remove the weapons from under the mattress,” he rasped, bringing his lips to mine. Our lips touched, but this kiss was… It was tender and lingering, blindingly passionate. A shiver skated down my spine like a lit match as he traced his lips along mine, his hot breath fanning my mouth.
This kiss was the kind you felt down to your toes. The kind that romance authors wrote about and schoolgirls dreamt about.
“I sleep with weapons too,” I breathed against his lips. “Back home, anyway,” I added, hoping my reminder that he was keeping me here as a pseudo-prisoner didn’t kill the mood.