Page 47 of Truth
“Is this what you need? Do you require I beg you, submit? Because I will.” Lowering a hand to the ground, I come to all fours, my eyes still pleading for my forgiveness. “If begging is required, then I’m willing to crawl for my redemption.” My hands move one in front of another and begin a slow trek to his feet. King takes a step back, unnerved by my action as I stop in front of him on the ground. The scene is set. I will hurt, do the one act that sacrifices all I fought to maintain until he accepts my love, and then we’re even. It’s never been an eye for an eye because we can only be equal again once I’ve hurt as deeply. It has to be a heart for a heart.
The belt drops to the floor, but his jaw tightens harder than his cock, which has become the focus point of my destination. My entire body is fevered, hot, guided by our little show. I reach out and run my hands up his legs up toward his massive bulge, but the intensity in his eyes burns into my soul, and I have to close mine to ready myself for what he will say. I’m not foolish enough to think this will be the end.
“Get out!” he hisses. “I don’t want you anymore. Get off your fucking knees.”
I open my eyes slowly to the hate etched on his face and prepare for the war I have to fight. Gripping his legs, I pull myself to standing.
“Goddamn you, Dominic King.” I reach up to him and grab his chin, pulling his face down to meet mine. “You don’t need me to take my clothes off to give you my heart. My pleas won’t make any difference in the depth of your hurt, but I’m sorry I was so irresponsible with your heart. Forgive me.” Just for a moment, his chin drops heavily into my hand, but he jerks it from my fingers just as quickly.
His hazel eyes are a storm of anger as he touches my collarbone with his fingertips, gently tracing the line. “I never cared for you.”
Lies said by the devil himself.
I reach for his hand, but he pulls it away.
“Stop insulting me with lies. I want you…only you. Forgive me.”
Anger fills his eyes as he leans in. “Never.”
“I won’t give up. Forgive me.”I won’t back down.
“You should give up.”
Never.“My heart is yours, and I’m willing to let you break me, but I don’t think you want to live with that.”
He casts his eyes down to the ground and runs his hand through his hair. He lifts his weary head, and for a moment I think I may see my King.
Placing my hand on his heart, I steady myself for what I’m about to say. “I’m bound to you, King, and I’ll sit at your feet until you trust me to stand by your side.” Taking his hands, I turn them, raising them to my lips and placing a kiss inside as my penance, whispering my prayer. “Forgive me.”
His eyes stare into mine, his hard expression softens. Then he’s gone again, spinning me around to face the onlookers, one hand on my breastbone. Lowering his mouth to my ear, he pushes himself into my backside, his voice a seductive whisper. “Look at their faces—they like seeing you. The beggar…they can feel your need, Drew, the desire you have for my cock. I bet they can even smell your desire. Do you want to show them? Do you want them to see how much you crave my cum?”
My breath is unsteady, my mind catapulting into places it’s never dared go. The only constant is the urge my body feels. The need for him. The want for him to touch me. To claim me as his in front of everyone.
“Yes, I want everyone to know you are mine.”
His lips turn up against my ear as he begins to caress my breast, and my head falls back onto his chest. Moving his other hand to my head, he grips the back of my hair and pulls it slowly until I follow his lead and dip my body back sideways. He runs his hand down my chest as a show of his power.
“They want to see. Show them, Drew…show them who owns this body.” His hand travels back to my neck as he rights me, tightening ever so slightly as the other descends from my breast down my stomach, gripping and kneading my pussy. The sensation is scandalous and welcome.
My moans accompany the movement instantly but are barely audible over the undulating symphony of our audience. They are uninhibited and pleading, but I’m uncaring of our audience because my body is his and his alone. I try and open my eyes, but the sensation of being devoured has me in its spell, drifting in and out of the waves of pleasure.
“That’s it, baby. I can feel how wet you are through your clothes. That greedy little pussy can’t help but beg for my cock.”
“King.” My voice is a shudder, a whisper, and a prayer for the man I love.
“Tell me who owns you, Drew.”
“You. You alone.”
And then he’s gone. My body is instantly cold, shocked back into reality by the absence of his warm breath and his body, and the seduction of his words. My eyes spring open, unfolding the scene before me. It really is Gomorrah: writhing sexuality playing out all around us; palpable sex set off like firecrackers exploding from every corner; moans and gasping breaths filling the space like music. We’ve set the stage for lust to feed. My entire soul is ignited by my urgency to give in to the truth. Our truth.
He is mine. I am his. Lust was just our lie.
I turn to face him, hoping he can feel everything I am in this moment. Repentant.
His eyes are sad. “Do you see what you’ve done? This is what we are now. You walked away and took my hope with you.”
I shake my head no, letting out an angry groan. “You can never beyouwithoutme,King. We’re fated. Two people cut from the same cloth. Don’t you get it? I’m not here for your salvation; I’m here to rejoice with you in your hell. Have me any way you want me. But you are mine alone.”
