Page 63 of Kingpin's Secret Baby

And his voice.

Wrecked and low, murmuring my name in a way no one else ever will. Full of that quiet confidence and gentleness that once made me feel like I was the only person who mattered.

You’re mine, Fantasia. Always have been. Always will be.

My fingertips glide over the delicate skin of my stomach, trailing lower, brushing the edge of my panties before slipping beneath the fabric to where I’m already warm and wet.

I sigh, my free hand drifting up, fingertips tracing the curve of my jaw before brushing over my lips- soft, lingering, as if I can still taste him there.

I imagine his hands replacing mine as I skim the curve of my breasts before I cup one, squeezing lightly, my thumb grazing over my nipple. A sharp inhale, a desperate ache. I arch into my own touch, wishing for his instead.

His weight between my thighs, his breath hot against my skin, whispering filth and endearments in the same greedy breath.

I don’t fight it.

I don’twantto fight it.

My thumb brushes lightly over my clit, already swollen and eager, and I let out a soft moan as I begin to rub slow, deliberate circles. The pleasure builds gradually, a warm sensation spreading through me, and I glide a finger inside my slick folds, with a deep, insistent need that is solely Piers'.

I imagine his cock as I add another finger, my breath hitching as I curl them slightly, hitting that perfect spot deep inside me.

My thumb never stops its rhythm, circling my clit with just the right pressure, sending waves of arousal coursing through me. My body arches into the fantasy, as if I can summon him through sheer will. My fingers move faster now, sliding in and out with a steady pace, each thrust filling me up and igniting every nerve. My groans mingle with quiet whimpers, the sound escaping my lips before I can stifle them.

My breathing becomes ragged, my chest heaving as my free hand continues to touch my breasts, my nipples already hard and begging for attention. I pinch and roll them gently between my fingers, and the pleasure surges through me like a live wire, sparking down my spine, pooling low in my belly, and tingling at the very tips of my toes.

My fingers inside me now move with an almost desperate pace, in time with the rhythm of my thumb on my clit. I can feel my orgasm building, the tension in my lower abdomen growing with each stroke. My hips buck slightly as I drive my fingers deeper inside myself. My other hand continues to play with my nipples, the sensation adding to the overwhelming waves of ecstasy that are starting to crash over me.

My breath becomes ragged and shallow, my muscles tense, and I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from screaming out in ecstasy. I close my eyes tightly, focusing all my energy on the intense sensation gripping me like a vice, my body suddenly alight with pleasure.

Finally, I don't hold back.

With a loud gasp, I climax. I cry out as I reach the peak. My whole body convulses with pleasure as waves of sheer ecstasy course through me.

I let out a soft whimper, my fingers slowly stilling inside me, my thumb gentle on my sensitive clit. My chest rises and falls as I try to catch my breath. I feel both physically sated and emotionally drained.

As the aftershocks fade, I slowly withdraw my fingers, my body still trembling from the intensity of the release. I take a deep, shaky breath, smiling at the satisfaction that lingers within me.

It’s overwhelming, this feeling. A testament to the love I still harbor for the man who haunts my dreams and thoughts. For that brief moment, I was with him again, lost in the thrall of passion and desire that only Piers can evoke in me.

But as my heart rate gradually returns to normal, an overwhelming sense of emptiness settles inside me. A part of me knows that even the most intimate memories of Piers can’t fill the hollow space in my soul.

The house is silent. The bed beside me is cold. My daughter sleeps peacefully down the hall, oblivious to the war inside me, the war I’ve been losing since the moment I left him in that burning forest.

I curl onto my side, pulling the blankets higher, as if that will fill the empty spaces inside me.

As if that will silence the thought creeping in, the one I can barely admit to myself.

That no matter how far I run-

No matter how fiercely I try to forget-

I will always belong to him.

Even if it’s just in the silence of the night, when no one is watching.

Even if it’s only in the echo of his name on my lips, lost in the darkness.

I will always belong to Piers Warwick.

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