Page 44 of Kingpin's Secret Baby

I can’t even tell if he’s joking or not.

And before I can retort, he whispers, “all this time,” his lips trailing down now, grazing my stomach as he speaks, “and all I kept thinking about was you. Even when I should’ve hated you… even when I tried.”

He pulls my hips towards the edge of the bed and removes both pants and underwear with a swift tug, spreading my legs wide apart, exposing my wet center. He struggles with the button of his jeans and forcefully unfastens it, the sound echoing loudly in the silent room, like a gunshot.

His pants are clinging tightly to his hips now, the thick fabric acting as a barrier between him and his intense longing. He tugs at the waistband with fervor, pulling it down just enough to reveal a vast expanse of skin and the angry, throbbing erection that strains against the confines of his underwear. He decides against completely taking off his pants, instead hooking his thumbs into the elastic of his boxer briefs and yanking them down just enough to expose his hard cock.

It springs forth, and I can't help but gasp as he presses the tip against my entrance. He rubs teasingly, making me yearn for more, and I can feel him already glistening with pre-cum.

“Every day apart felt like an eternity. And now that I have you back, I’m not letting go.”

With that encouragement Piers plunges into me, filling me with one hard thrust. We both moan at the exquisite sensation of being joined again. Piers moves slowly at first, savoring every movement.

“That's it,” he murmurs, “take every inch of me.” He starts moving faster, his thrusts becoming harder and deeper as he loses himself in the feel of him inside me.

“You feel that?” He thrusts deeper, his voice a growl. “That’s me. Inside you. Owning you. No one else gets to have you like this.”

“I'm going to fuck you until the only name you remember is mine.”

I respond with a loud cry, my head thrown back in ecstasy. I’m so close, teetering on the edge, and I want to be pushed over, want to shatter underneath him.

Piers reaches between us, his fingers finding my clit, swollen and slick. He rubs tight circles around it, and my body tenses in response. I feel my inner muscles clench around him, gripping him like a vice, and I know I’m right there.

“Say my name, Fantasia. Scream it. Let the whole world know exactly who you belong to.”

And I do. My orgasm rips through me, my body convulsing as I cry out his name.

He thrusts deep one last time and holds it there, his release pulsing through me in waves. His body shudders, a low growl escaping his lips as he buries his face in the crook of my neck. I feel his heartbeat pounding against my chest, erratic and wild, echoing the chaos in my own veins.

My body feels weightless, boneless, as if he’s unraveled me piece by piece and put me back together again. But now, every part of me is tangled up in him- his scent, his warmth, his breath hot against my skin. I can’t tell where he ends and I begin.

He doesn’t move, his grip on my hips possessive, unyielding. He’s still inside me, filling me, grounding me, as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go. His hands slide up my sides, strong fingers splaying over my ribs, holding me so close it’s like he’s trying to fuse us together.

His lips press against my shoulder, a lingering, searing kiss that feels more like a brand. His voice is rough, raw, still thick with the aftermath of his climax. “You think you can push me away? Not a chance. You’re mine, Fantasia. Always have been… always will be.”

His words wrap around me, tightening like a chain I’ll never break free from.

And maybe I’m starting to think I don’t want to.

Chapter 22

Fantasia

My body feels brittle in the silence afterward. All my aches and pains are good ones, but I can’t get my heart to settle down, or my thoughts to stop racing. Piers’s arms are a warm wall around me, blocking out the cruel reality that lurks just beyond the door.

And for the first time, I’m not ready to face that reality again, no matter how much I might deserve it. There’s something happening inside me, something that feels dangerously like… hope.

Before I lost everything I’d ever known, I had to force the people around me to stay. Any time Achilles would question me, I let myself be overwhelmed by the idea of being without him until he came to my rescue. When my lackeys threatened to walk, I paid them more money to remain loyal to me.

When Achilles finally turned on me, it hurt of course. It hurt enough that at one point I nearly threw myself out the second-story window of my room. But once I came out of my alcoholic haze, I could appreciate that trying to coerce people to be around me wasn’t going to make them love me.

I… don’t have to do any of that with Piers. No matter what I say or do, I can’t get this man to abandon me. He’s even deluded himself into thinking we’ll get married once I’ve magically become a better person.

The worst part is- I want it.

I want the impossible. The future he keeps talking about, the one where we make it out of here alive, where we become… whatever it is he thinks we could be.

It’s ridiculous, really. Hope is the cruelest joke the universe could play on me right now, yet here I am, clutching onto it like it won’t cut me to ribbons the moment I get too comfortable.

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