Page 89 of Kingpin's Secret Baby

She nods, already sitting up as she extends her arms to him.

Desmond grins, shooting me a look that says,See? She trusts me.

And I’m grateful I don’t feel the need to challenge that.

The door clicks shut, and before I can even turn, she’s there.

Right behind me.

I barely have a second to react before her hands are on me, sliding up my back, over my shoulders- grabbing, needing. Then her lips crash into mine.

The kiss is desperate, hungry, like she’s trying to erase every second we’ve spent apart. She presses into me, her body molding against mine, fingers threading into my hair and tugging just hard enough to send a sharp thrill down my spine.

I groan into her mouth, gripping her waist and lifting her with ease. I don’t remember moving, but suddenly, we’re on the bed, her back against the mattress, her legs wrapping tight around my hips like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go.

“Piers,” she breathes against my lips, her voice rough with need.

Her breath is warm, her fingers digging into my shoulders like she can’t get close enough. “I missed you,” she murmurs, the words slipping out between kisses, raw and unguarded.

I press my forehead to hers, my thumb tracing the curve of her jaw. “I missed you too,” I rasp, the confession torn straight from my soul.

I’m kissing her again, deeper this time, like I can make up for every second we’ve been apart. Her body arches beneath me, her legs locking tighter around my hips, and I know- this isn’t just about need. It’s about everything we never let ourselves say.

I kiss her harder, deeper, my hands roaming her body like I’m relearning every curve, every scar, every place that makes her gasp. She arches into me, and I swallow her moan like it’s the only thing keeping me alive.

Two years.

Two goddamn years of wanting her, of pretending I didn’t, of burying myself in anything that could dull the ache of her absence.

But nothing- nothing- could compare to this.

Her hands push at my shirt, impatient, and I tear it off, barely giving her time to do the same before my mouth is on her skin- teeth grazing her collarbone, tongue tracing the swell of her breast. She gasps, her back arching off the bed, and I revel in the way her body responds to me, like it remembers every touch, every flick of my tongue, every bite.

I shove my pants down, kicking them off without a second thought, my hands already hooking into the waistband of her panties. A sharp tug, and they’re gone, the flimsy fabric no match for the urgency coiling between us.

“Oh, fuck,” she hisses when my fingers slide between her thighs, finding her already wet, already aching for me.

That's all it takes. My control snaps, and I surge forward, capturing her mouth in a bruising kiss as I drive myself into her, burying myself to the hilt in one smooth thrust.

Fantasia cries out, her head falling back against the mattress as her hips buck up to meet mine. I groan raggedly against her throat, the sensation of finally being inside her again almost unbearable. She's so hot, so tight, her walls squeezing me like a vice.

“Fuck, Fantasia,” I grunt, my hips snapping forward in a relentless rhythm. “You feel so good. So perfect. Like you were made for me.”

“Yes,” she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders as she arches into me. “Always.”

I capture her mouth again, swallowing her moans as I pound into her, every thrust pushing me deeper, harder, until I'm drowning in sensation. In the taste of her, the scent of her, the feel of her body lush and yielding beneath mine.

I break away only to trail biting kisses along her jaw, down her throat. She tilts her head back, baring more of her skin to me, and I oblige greedily, sucking marks into her flesh. Branding her. Claiming her.

Mine. She's mine, and I'm never letting her go again.

Fantasia's hands roam over my back, my ass, urging me on. “Harder,” she demands breathlessly. “Fuck me harder, Piers. I need it. I need you.”

I oblige with a low growl, changing my angle to hit that spot inside her that has her seeing stars. She keens in ecstasy, her legs tightening around me, pulling me in deeper with each thrust. Her body is a taut bow beneath me, her breaths coming in short gasps that fan the flames of my own desire. I can feel the tension coiling within her, the inevitable releasest of her climax building with every stroke.

“Come for me, Fantasia,” I growl into the damp curve of her neck, teeth scraping skin as my voice fractures with need. “I want to taste every fucking tremor.”

She cries out, a wild, untamed sound tearing from her throat as she falls apart. Her body convulses, her inner walls clamping around me as her orgasm crashes over her in wave after wave of ecstasy. It's too much for me to hold back, and with a final thrust, I join her in release, my body shuddering as I empty myself into her warmth.

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