Chapter 131: The Vigil's End
The door clicked shut behind me and the weight of the world went with it. Amber stood at the foot of the bed, still in the silk robe she'd thrown on hours ago, her fingers tugging at the sash with nervous energy. The city lights bled through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind her, painting her silhouette in gold and shadow. She looked small for a second, my lioness, my hurricane, and that killed me more than any lawsuit Hassan could file.
"Come here," I said, my voice low.
She didn't move at first. Then her shoulders dropped and she crossed the room, stopping just before me. I reached out and untied the sash, let the silk fall open. Her breasts spilled free, her nipples already pebbled from the cool air. Her belly, soft and full from carrying our twins, rose and fell with her breath.
"I need you," she whispered. "I need to not think for a while."
"I'm going to take care of that."
I lifted her, her thighs wrapping around my waist on instinct, and carried her to the bed. Laid her out across the Egyptian cotton like she was the most precious thing I'd ever hold. She was. Every soft inch of her, every curve and crease and contradiction. I knelt at the foot of the bed and took off her robe the rest of the way, trailing my fingers up her calves, over her knees, along the plush give of her thighs.
"You're so beautiful," I said, watching her body respond.
"Kash—"
"Shh. Let me worship you tonight."
I started at her ankles. Pressed my lips to the bone, worked my way up her shin. She shuddered when my mouth reached the hollow behind her knee. I lingered there, tasting her skin, breathing her in. Sandalwood and amber and the faint salt of her sweat from the day's stress. I moved higher, my tongue tracing the inside of her thigh, slow and deliberate, feeling her muscles quiver beneath me.
"Please," she breathed.
"Please what?"
"Anything. Everything. Just touch me."
I kissed the crease where her thigh met her hip, then shifted, dragging my nose along her mound. She was already wet, her slick heat coating my lips as I pressed them to her. I flicked my tongue out, tasting her, and she moaned, her fingers threading through my hair.
"Fuck," she gasped.
I ate her like she was the last meal I'd ever have. Slow and deep and hungry, my tongue lapping at her folds, circling her clit until she was rocking against my face. Her thighs tightened around my head and I pushed two fingers inside her, crooking them just right, feeling her walls clench.
"That's it," I murmured against her. "Let go for me."
She came with a sob, her whole body arching off the bed, her cunt gripping my fingers. I worked her through it, licking her through the aftershocks until she went limp.
"More," she said, her voice wrecked. "Kash, I need more."
I pulled my fingers out and tasted them, watching her watch me. Then I crawled up her body, my cock heavy and hard against her thigh. I kissed her stomach, the soft swell of it, the stretch marks that charted our history. She was crying now, silent tears sliding into her hairline.
"Hey," I said, cupping her face. "Talk to me."
"I'm just scared," she whispered. "I'm so tired of being scared."
"I know. I'm going to fix it."
"I don't know how you can. I don't know how anyone can."
I kissed her forehead. Her nose. Her lips. Then I moved down her body again, rolling her onto her stomach, pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck, the curve of her spine, the plush roundness of her ass. She was a canvas and I had all night to paint my devotion across her.
I parted her cheeks and licked the seam of her ass, feeling her jump, a startled moan escaping her. I pressed my tongue inside her and she bucked, her fists twisting in the sheets.
"Kash—"
"Shh. I've got you."
I ate her ass until she was soaked and trembling, her breath coming in sharp little hitches. Then I flipped her over, spread her legs wide, and lined myself up at her entrance.
"Look at me."
She did. Her eyes were glassy and dark, full of fear and love and desperate need.
"I love you," I said.
"I love you too."
I pushed in. Slow. Inch by inch. Her heat enveloped me, her walls parting around my length, pulling me deeper. She moaned and I watched her face, the way her lips parted, the way her eyes fluttered closed.
"No," I said. "Keep your eyes open."
She forced them open and held my gaze as I seated myself fully inside her. She was soaked, my cock sliding in with a wet slickness even I could hear. I held still for a moment, letting her adjust, letting her feel me pulsing inside her.
"Fuck," she whispered.
Then I started to move.
Slow at first, deep, grinding my pelvis against her clit with every thrust. I watched her body ripple with each impact, her tits bouncing, her belly quivering. Her legs wrapped around my waist and pulled me in deeper, her heels digging into my ass.
"More," she begged.
I gave her more. I fucked her with long, measured strokes, each one hitting that spot inside her that made her eyes roll back. I bent down and sucked her nipple into my mouth, biting down just hard enough to make her gasp.
"Yes. Fuck, yes."
I moved faster, a rhythm building that had her keening beneath me. The headboard started slamming against the wall and I didn't care. Nothing existed beyond this room, beyond her body around mine, beyond the war we were both trying to forget.
She came again, her body clenching around me so hard I nearly lost my rhythm. But I didn't stop. I kept pumping into her, chasing my own edge, watching her face twist in pleasure and pain.
"Pull out," she gasped. "I want to taste you."
I pulled out and she scrambled, pushing me onto my back and taking me in her mouth before I could even catch my breath. Her lips were hot and wet, her tongue working my shaft as she bobbed up and down. She looked up at me, those dark eyes full of thirst, and I fisted the sheets.
"Fuck, Amber."
She sucked harder, deeper, taking me to the root and swallowing around me. I felt the pressure building, my balls drawing up tight.
"I'm gonna come," I warned.
She didn't pull away. She kept sucking, her hand stroking my base, and I exploded down her throat. She swallowed, looking up at me the whole time, and when I was spent she pulled off and licked her lips.
"Good girl," I rasped.
She grinned, that wicked grin that always undid me. Then she crawled up my body, straddling my hips, reaching down to grip my still-hard cock. She sank onto me with a long, shuddering moan, and I gripped her hips.
"Ride me," I said.
She moved. Slow at first, grinding in circles, her head tossed back, the moonlight spilling over her in silver streaks. Then she started bouncing, fast and hard, her slick cunt gripping me with each downward stroke. I reached up and squeezed her tits, pinching her nipples until she hissed.
"Fuck. Yes. Keep going."
She rode me like she was trying to split herself open on my cock, her thighs slapping against mine, her breath coming in ragged pants. I could feel her getting close again, her walls starting to flutter.
"That's it," I said. "Come on my cock."
She did, with a scream that tore from her throat, her body convulsing around me. I let her ride out every wave, and when she collapsed onto my chest, I rolled us over, pinning her beneath me.
"I'm not done with you," I said.
"I didn't think you were."
I reached for the silk tie on the nightstand. Her eyes widened, a flicker of excitement and fear. But she lifted her wrists willingly, letting me bind them to the headboard.
"Count for me," I said.
"Count what?"
"Every orgasm. Every time I make you come. I want to hear you count them."
I positioned myself between her legs and slammed into her in one brutal thrust. She cried out, her body bowing.
"That's one," I said. "Say it."
"One," she gasped.
"Louder."
"One!"
"Good girl."
I fucked her hard. The fear and the anger and the helplessness that had been coiled in my chest all day poured into every thrust. I was fucking away the image of her crying in the shower, the tremor in her voice when she said she was done fighting. I was fucking away the smiling face of Viktor Haas and his smug goddamn confidence. I was claiming her, again and again, so she'd know, so we'd both know, that nothing was going to take her from me.
"Two!" she cried as another orgasm ripped through her.
I didn't slow down. I pulled out and flipped her onto her stomach, hauling her hips up, pushing her face into the mattress. My hand came down on her ass, hard, leaving a red handprint blooming on her skin.
"Three," I said as she screamed.
I thrust back inside her, my fingers digging into her hips. Her ass bounced against my pelvis, the bed groaning beneath us. I slid my hand around and found her clit, rubbing in tight circles while I pounded into her.
"Oh my god," she sobbed. "Oh my god, Kash."
"Count."
"Four! Four, fuck, four!"
I came inside her, hot and pulsing, emptying myself into her with a guttural growl. She was trembling beneath me, her whole body shaking with the force of her own release, still riding my cock as I spent.
I collapsed on top of her, my weight pressing her into the mattress. For a long moment neither of us moved. Then I pulled the tie loose from the headboard and gathered her in my arms.
"Not done," I murmured against her hair.
She was sobbing and laughing at the same time, tears and sweat mingling on her face. "I don't know if I can take any more."
"You can." I kissed her neck. "I've got you."
I slipped out of her and slid lower, parting her legs. I found her clit with my tongue and she whimpered, oversensitive, still raw from coming so many times. But I licked her slow and soft, building her up again, coaxing her back to the edge.
"Five," she breathed.
"No. You don't get to count until I make you come."
"I'm already—"
I sucked her clit between my lips and she screamed, her hips bucking. I held her down with my forearms and kept going, lapping at her until she came again, hard, her body jerking like she was electrocuted.
"Six," I said when she finally went still.
"Six," she echoed, her voice a broken whisper.
I crawled back up and kissed her mouth, letting her taste herself on my lips. She was a wreck, her hair plastered to her forehead, her entire body shining with sweat. And she'd never looked more beautiful.
We lay tangled together, breathing hard, watching the first thin fingers of gray light bleed through the curtains. The city was waking up. The war was still out there, waiting.
But right now, there was only her.
I pulled her into my arms and she buried her face in my chest. Her hand found mine and laced our fingers together over her heart. We stayed like that as the room slowly lightened, as the birds started singing outside, as the unavoidable weight of morning settled over us.
"I'll end it," I said, the words rough in my throat. "I promise."
She was quiet for a long time. Then she lifted her head and looked at me. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, but there was a fire in them that I recognized. The same fire that had built an empire from nothing, the same fire that had fought for me when I didn't deserve it.
"I believe you," she whispered.
I kissed her. Not hungry or desperate or angry. Just tender, like it was the first time all over again, like the world had finally stopped spinning and landed exactly where it was supposed to be.
The light grew stronger. The day was coming.
But I'd held the night at bay long enough to charge into the dawn.
The light grew stronger. The day was coming. But I'd held the night at bay long enough to charge into the dawn.
Except I wasn't done. Not yet.
Amber had closed her eyes, her breathing finally evening out, that sweet surrender pulling her toward sleep. I watched her for a long moment, the way her lashes fanned against her cheeks, the way her lips were still swollen from my kisses, the way her chest rose and fell with that deep, peaceful rhythm. She looked like she was already gone, already dreaming of somewhere soft and safe where lawsuit and war couldn't reach her.
But I wasn't done worshiping her. And I knew, with a certainty that settled into my bones like a prayer, that if I let her sleep now, she'd wake up scared again. She'd wake up with the weight of Haas and his injunction pressing down on her chest, and the fear would crawl back into those beautiful dark eyes.
I couldn't let that happen.
I slid down the bed, silent as a ghost, and settled between her thighs. She stirred, a soft sound escaping her throat, but didn't wake. I pressed my lips to the inside of her thigh, feeling her skin pebble beneath my mouth. She was still slick, still swollen from everything I'd already done to her, her cunt pink and glistening. I spread her open with my thumbs and leaned in, dragging my tongue through her folds.
"Mmm," she murmured, her hips twitching. "Kash. I thought you were done."
"I said I wasn't done with you."
"You said that hours ago."
"Hours don't matter." I licked her again, slow and deliberate, savoring the taste of her mixed with my own come still seeping from her. "Not when it comes to you."
She moaned, her hand finding my head, her fingers threading through my hair. She was trying to push me away and pull me closer at the same time, her body caught between exhaustion and that endless, aching need. I knew which one would win. It always did.
I ate her like she was made of honey and I was starving. Slow, patient, my tongue tracing every fold, lapping up the mess I'd left inside her before I zeroed in on her clit with the point of my tongue. She gasped, her hips bucking, and I held her down, pressing my forearm across her belly, pinning her to the mattress.
"Kash, fuck. I can't. I can't come again."
"Yes you can."
"No, I'm too sensitive, I—"
I sucked her clit between my lips and she shattered, a scream ripping from her throat as her whole body convulsed. Her juices flooded my mouth, hot and sweet, and I drank her down like communion wine. I didn't stop. I kept licking, kept sucking, kept pushing her through wave after wave until she was sobbing, her chest heaving, her legs shaking.
"That's it, baby. Let it all go."
"I can't. I can't, I can't, I—" She sobbed, her hands fisting in my hair. "Please. Please stop, I can't take it."
I pulled back, my chin slick with her, and crawled up her body. I kissed her stomach, her sternum, the hollow of her throat. She was trembling, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes, but there was a peace there too, a slackness in her face that hadn't been there before.
"Shh," I murmured against her skin. "I've got you."
She clung to me, her arms wrapping around my neck, pulling me down into a desperate kiss. She tasted herself on my lips and moaned, her tongue sliding against mine. I could feel her heart hammering against my chest, could feel her cunt still fluttering around nothing, still greedy for more.
"I want you again," she whispered against my mouth.
"You just said you couldn't take it."
"I can't. But I want you again anyway."
I laughed, a low, rough sound, and kissed her forehead. "You're going to kill me."
"If I'm going down, I'm taking you with me."
I rolled onto my back and pulled her on top of me, her thighs straddling my hips. She was so beautiful like this, her hair a wild corona around her face, her skin sheened with sweat and the evidence of everything we'd done. Her hands pressed flat against my chest, her nails raking red lines down my skin as she reached back and gripped my cock.
She sank onto me with a shuddering moan, her head falling back, her lips parted. I watched her take all of me, inch by inch, until her ass was flush against my hips. She sat there for a moment, breathing hard, feeling me pulse inside her.
"Fuck, you're so deep," she gasped.
"You feel that? That's me. That's all of me, baby."
She started to move. Slow, grinding, her hips rolling in tight circles that made my eyes roll back in my head. She leaned forward, her tits brushing against my chest, her mouth finding mine. She kissed me lazily, deeply, like we had all the time in the world, like there wasn't a war waiting for us at dawn.
"I love you," she whispered.
"I love you too."
She rode me slow, her cunt gripping me with every stroke, her nails digging into my shoulders. I reached up and cupped her tits, thumbing her nipples, feeling them pebble and harden. She gasped and rode me harder, her rhythm picking up, her moans growing louder.
"That's it. Use me. Take what you need."
She did. She rode me like I was hers, because I was. She rode me like she was trying to fuck away every fear, every doubt, every moment of weakness. I let her. I let her take all of me, pour all of her desperation into the motion of her hips, and when she came again, her body clenching around me, I followed her, my release flooding her, hot and thick.
She collapsed on top of me, her body slick with sweat, her breath coming in soft little pants against my neck. I wrapped my arms around her and held her, stroking her back, her hair, the curve of her spine.
"Stay inside me," she murmured.
"I'm not going anywhere."
We lay like that as the night crept toward morning, my cock softening inside her, our bodies still joined. I could feel her heartbeat slowing, her breathing deepening. She was falling asleep on top of me, her weight a comfort, her warmth a promise.
I let her sleep for a while. I don't know how long. The room slowly lightened, the first gray fingers of dawn creeping through the curtains, painting the walls in soft silver. The city was stirring outside, cars starting to hum, birds beginning their morning song. The war was out there, waiting, patient as a predator.
But right now, there was only her. There was only the weight of her on my chest, the sound of her breathing, the knowledge that she was safe in my arms. She was already asleep, her lips parted, a strand of hair stuck to her cheek. I brushed it away, careful not to wake her.
Then I felt her stir, her hips shifting, a soft sound escaping her throat. Her eyes opened, hazy and dark, and she looked up at me.
"Did I fall asleep?"
"Just for a little while." I kissed her forehead. "You needed it."
"Mm. I needed you more."
"You've got me. You've always got me."
She smiled, that sleepy, radiant smile that made my chest ache. Then she shifted, and I felt myself harden inside her again, twitching against her walls. Her eyes widened, a spark of mischief lighting them up.
"You're ready again?"
"I'm always ready for you."
She laughed, low and throaty, and started to move. It was slow at first, just a lazy grind, the morning light spilling across her skin like liquid gold. She looked like a goddess, her tits swaying, her hair a tangled mess, her cunt gripping me with every stroke.
"I want to try something," she said.
"Anything."
She reached down and pulled out of me, leaving me aching and empty. Then she turned around, her ass facing me, and lowered herself back down onto my cock. The angle was different, deeper somehow, and she moaned, her head falling forward.
"Oh, fuck. Oh, that's so deep."
"You like that?"
"Yes. Yes, don't stop."
I gripped her hips and started to guide her, helping her find her rhythm. She rode me backward, her ass bouncing against my thighs, the sight of my cock sliding in and out of her enough to make me groan. I reached around and found her clit, swollen and slick, and rubbed it in tight circles.
"I'm close," she gasped. "I'm so close."
"Come for me, baby. Let go."
She did, her body clenching around me, her scream muffled by her forearm as she bit down. I came with her, pumping into her, filling her up a third time, maybe a fourth, I'd lost count. She collapsed on top of me, our bodies tangled and slick, the morning light painting us in gold.
We lay there for a long time, breathing hard, hearts racing. The sun was rising for real now, the sky bleeding from gray to pink to orange. The day was coming, and with it, the war.
But I had one more thing to do.
I pulled out of her gently and gathered her in my arms, rolling us onto our sides so she was facing me. I cupped her face in my hands, brushing away the sweat and tears and strands of hair, and looked into her eyes. They were clear now, no fear, no panic, just love and trust and a bone-deep peace.
"I'll end it," I said, the words a vow, a promise, a prayer. "I promise you, Amber. I'll end it all. Haas, the lawsuit, the injunction, all of it. I'll burn it to the ground if I have to. I will not let him take anything from us. I will not let him touch what's mine."
She searched my face, her eyes soft, her lips curving into a tremulous smile. "I believe you."
"I love you. More than anything."
"I love you too, Kashawn King."
I kissed her, slow and tender, the promise sealed between us. And when I pulled back, the sun was fully up, painting the room in brilliant gold. The war was waiting. But I walked into it with her hand in mine, and nothing, not even a man like Viktor Haas, could take that from me.
I kissed her forehead and eased out of bed, my legs unsteady beneath me. She reached for me, a soft sound of protest escaping her throat, and I laughed low in my chest.
"Come on. We need to wash up before the day eats us alive."
She groaned, rolling onto her back, her limbs sprawling across the ruined sheets. The evidence of our night was everywhere, the slick stains, the tangled silk tie, the smeared mascara on her cheeks. She looked wrecked. She looked magnificent.
"My legs don't work," she said.
"They'll work. I'm going to hold you up."
I scooped her off the mattress, her body warm and pliant against mine, and carried her into the master bath. The room was all marble and brass, steam already starting to curl from the shower where I'd left it running earlier. I set her down on the edge of the tub and reached in to adjust the temperature, letting the water heat until it was just shy of scalding.
Then I pulled her under the spray with me.
The water cascaded over us, washing away the sweat and the come and the hours of desperate need. Amber tilted her head back, letting the water stream over her face, her hands braced against the tile. I reached for the soap and lathered my palms, then started at her shoulders, working the suds into her skin in slow, firm circles.
"Mm," she hummed. "That's nice."
"I told you I'd take care of you."
"I thought you meant the other thing."
"Both. I take care of you in every way."
I washed her back, her arms, the soft curve of her waist. I knelt and washed her legs, lifting each foot, running my hands up her calves and over her thighs. She spread her legs for me without being asked, a silent invitation, and I lathered between them, careful and gentle, washing away the soreness and the slick evidence of my claiming.
She sighed, her head falling back, her eyes closed. The water sluiced over her, darkening her skin, and I watched rivulets trace the mounds of her breasts, the sweet swell of her belly.
"Turn around," I said.
She did, presenting her back to me, her hands bracing on the tile. I lathered her shoulders again, her spine, the small of her back. Then I slid my hands over the generous curve of her ass, kneading the flesh, feeling her melt into my touch.
"You're so soft here," I murmured, my thumbs tracing the crease where her ass met her thighs.
She shivered. "Sensitive there."
"I know."
I washed her thoroughly, my fingers sliding between her cheeks, finding that tight ring of muscle I'd eaten so greedily last night. She gasped, her hips pressing back into my hand, and I felt myself harden again despite everything we'd already done.
"Kash," she breathed.
"Mm?"
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
I slid one finger inside her, just past that first ring of resistance, and she moaned, her forehead pressing against the tile. The water cascaded around us, steam rising thick in the air, and I could feel her body opening for me, that willingness she always had when she was fully surrendered.
"Tell me what you're thinking," I said, working my finger deeper.
She whimpered. "I'm thinking about that thing you do. The thing you did to me that night before the twins were born."
"The thing with your ass?"
"Yes. That. I want that. I want you to fuck my ass until I can't walk."
I pulled my finger out and turned her around to face me. The water ran down her face, her lashes spiked, her pupils blown wide. She looked at me with that raw, naked hunger that never failed to undo me.
"You sure? You're already raw."
"I don't care. I want you. All of you. Every way you can take me."
I kissed her, deep and commanding, and I felt her tremble against me. Then I turned her back around, pressing her hands flat against the tile, arching her ass toward me. The water sluiced over her, her skin slick and gleaming, and I grabbed the bottle of conditioner from the shelf.
"Conditioner?" she asked, looking back at me.
"You want me to go slow or fast?"
"Slow. Then fast."
I squirted a generous amount into my palm and worked it over my cock, slicking every inch. Then I pressed two fingers against her asshole, circling, coating her with the slickness. She gasped, her fingers clawing at the tile, and I pushed inside her, feeling that tight grip close around my knuckles.
"Fuck," she moaned.
I worked my fingers in and out of her, stretching her, loosening her, feeling her body start to yield. She was so tight, so impossibly tight, and I could feel her trembling with the effort of relaxing around me. I added a third finger and she cried out, her hips pressing back.
"That's it, baby. Take me. Open up for me."
"I am. God, Kash, I'm trying."
I worked my fingers until I could feel her surrender, that sweet give of muscle that told me she was ready. I pulled my fingers out and positioned myself at her entrance, the head of my cock pressing against that tight ring.
"Look at me," I said.
She twisted to look back over her shoulder, her eyes dark and desperate.
"I love you," I said.
"I love you too. Now fuck me."
I pushed in. Slow. So goddamn slow. Her asshole gripped me like a fist, that tight, searing heat that made my vision blur. She cried out, her whole body tensing, and I held still, letting her adjust.
"Breathe," I said, my voice rough. "Breathe for me."
She took a shuddering breath, then another, and I felt her body start to unclench around me. I pushed deeper, inch by agonizing inch, watching the way her ass stretched to take me, the way her back arched, the way her fingers left white marks on the tile.
"Oh god," she whimpered. "Oh god, Kash."
"Almost there. Just a little more."
I seated myself fully inside her, my hips flush against her ass, and we both stilled. The water hammered around us, steam thick in the air, and I could feel her pulse, her heartbeat, the flutter of her walls around my length.
"I'm so deep," I murmured. "I'm so deep in your ass, baby. You feel that?"
"Yes. Fuck, yes, I feel you."
"Tell me it's good."
"It's so good. It's so fucking good. Please move. Please."
I pulled out almost all the way, then thrust back in, slow and deep. She moaned, a long, guttural sound that vibrated through her whole body. I set a rhythm, slow at first, each thrust measured, deliberate, letting her feel every inch of me dragging against her walls.
"That's it. Take all of me. Take all your husband's cock in that tight little ass."
"Yes, yes, yes."
I reached around and found her clit, swollen and slick, and rubbed it as I fucked her. She bucked, her ass pushing back against me, and I knew she was close. But I wasn't ready to let her come yet. I wanted to torture her first.
"Not yet," I said, pulling my hand away.
"Kash, please—"
"Not yet. I want you to feel this. I want you to remember this."
I grabbed her hips and started to pick up the pace, my thrusts growing harder, faster, the water sloshing around our feet. The tile echoed with the slap of our bodies, the wet, obscene sounds of her ass taking my cock. She was moaning, sobbing, her hands scrabbling for purchase on the slick marble.
"There you go. That's my wife. Taking it. Taking every goddamn inch."
"I'm gonna come," she gasped. "Please, I'm gonna come."
I reached around and found her clit again, rubbing in tight circles as I slammed into her. She came with a scream, her ass clenching around me like a vise, and I buried myself to the hilt, coming inside her, flooding her tight heat with my release.
We stayed like that for a long moment, the water cascading over us, my cock still buried in her ass, her body trembling and spent. Then I pulled out slowly, watching the mix of conditioner and come spill out of her, and gathered her in my arms.
She slumped against me, turning to bury her face in my chest. I held her, stroking her back, letting the water wash away the evidence of what we'd done.
"Fuck," she whispered. "I'm going to be sore for a week."
"I'll carry you everywhere."
"That might actually be nice."
I laughed, kissing the top of her head. The water was starting to cool, the steam thinning. The day was waiting out there, the war, the meetings, the fight. But I had her. I had this.
I turned off the water and wrapped her in a towel, then wrapped my own around my waist. She was glowing, her skin flushed, her eyes soft and satisfied. I kissed her forehead.
"Breakfast?" I asked.
She smiled. "Breakfast."
"Breakfast," she echoed, and there was a flicker at the corner of her mouth, that spark I knew meant she was about to say something she'd regret. But the shadow was still there too, the one that had been living in her eyes since the papers arrived. I saw her swallow it down, saw the way her fingers tightened on the towel.
I couldn't let that shadow win.
I took her hand and pulled her back toward the bed. The towel slipped from her shoulders and pooled at her feet, and the morning light caught every curve of her, the soft gold of her skin, the plush give of her thighs, the proud swell of her belly. She looked at me with a question in her eyes.
"The war can wait," I said. "You can't."
"Kash, we've been at it all night. I'm raw. I'm wrecked."
"Good." I eased her down onto the mattress, my hands gentle on her hips. "Now I'm going to put you back together."
She didn't argue. She lay back, her arms open, her legs falling apart like it was the most natural thing in the world. I drank her in for a long moment, the way the light turned her skin to honey, the way her muscles were still twitching from exhaustion and pleasure. Then I knelt at the foot of the bed and began at her feet.
She had beautiful feet, high arches, strong ankles, the kind of feet that carried her through twelve-hour days at the salon without a complaint. I lifted her left foot and pressed my lips to the delicate bone of her ankle, feeling her shiver. I worked my way down her arch with my tongue, tasting the salt of her skin, the lingering scent of the fancy lotion she'd used last night. Her toes curled, a soft giggle escaping her.
"That tickles," she said.
"Shh. Let me worship."
I sucked her big toe into my mouth, then the next, one by one, until she was squirming and laughing beneath me. Her laughter was the best sound in the world, full and ragged, shaking loose the tension that had been coiled in her shoulders. I moved to her right foot, treating it the same, and by the time I was done she was breathing hard, a flush spreading up her chest.
I kissed the inside of her ankle, then my lips dragged up her calf. The muscle was tight, knotted from the day's stress, and I paused to work it with my thumbs before pressing my mouth to the tender hollow behind her knee. She made a soft sound, her legs relaxing, opening wider for me.
I moved higher, kissing the plush inside of her thigh, feeling the heat radiating from her. I took my time there, tracing the crease where her thigh met her hip with my tongue, nuzzling the soft hair at the base of her mound. She was already slick again, her wetness glistening when I spread her open.
But I didn't go straight for her cunt. Not yet. I wanted to taste every inch first.
I turned her onto her stomach and started at her shoulders. The curve of her spine, vertebra by vertebra, my lips pressing against each one. Her shoulder blades, the small of her back, the dimples just above her ass. I lingered there, feeling her skin pebble beneath my tongue, then kissed down the swell of each buttock, bite-soft, leaving faint red marks that faded almost instantly.
"Turn over," I said.
She did, and I knelt at her side, my gaze traveling up her body. The hollow of her throat was next. I pressed my lips there, feeling her pulse flutter beneath my mouth. Her collarbone, sharp and elegant. I worked my way along it, kissing the delicate skin, tasting the faint salt of her sweat.
Her breasts were full and heavy, her nipples already peaked. I circled one with my tongue, avoiding the center, teasing her until she arched her back and whimpered.
"Please," she breathed.
"Please what?"
"Please, Kash. I need. I need your mouth."
I took her nipple between my lips and sucked hard. She cried out, her hand burying itself in my hair. I worked the other breast the same way, biting gently, then soothing the sting with my tongue. She was whispering my name, a litany, a prayer.
I kissed down her sternum, the soft swell of her belly. Each stretch mark was a line on a map I knew by heart. I traced them with my tongue, from her ribs down to the jut of her hip bones. Her belly button, I dipped my tongue inside it and she laughed, a broken, breathless sound.
"Are you trying to drive me insane?" she asked.
"Yes."
I moved lower, parting her thighs with my hands. She was soaked, her lips swollen, her clit peeking out from its hood. I leaned in and dragged my tongue from her ass to her clit in one slow, deliberate stroke. She shuddered, a guttural moan rising from her chest.
"I want to taste every inch of you," I said, "and I'm not done yet."
I ate her with the same reverence I'd given her feet. Slow, patient, my tongue exploring every fold. I sucked her clit until she was bucking against my face, then pulled back and kissed her inner thighs again, teasing her, making her beg.
"Please," she sobbed. "Please, please, please."
"Beg for it proper, baby."
"Please, Kash, please eat my fucking pussy until I can't see straight. I need it. I need your tongue inside me. I need you to make me come until I forget my own name."
I gave her what she wanted. I licked her open, two fingers sliding inside her, crooking up to find that spot that made her eyes roll back. She came fast, her body convulsing, her juices flooding my mouth. I lapped it up, shaking through her aftershocks, until she pushed at my head, oversensitive.
"More," she gasped. "I want you to fuck me."
I crawled up her body, my cock hard and aching, and settled between her legs. She reached down and guided me to her entrance, her eyes locked on mine. I pushed in slow, a single inch at a time, feeling her walls clench and release around me. She was so tight still, so raw, and the muscles of her cunt gripped me like they never wanted to let go.
"Look at me," I said.
She did. Her dark eyes were glassy, full of love and need and that fragile trust I would die to protect.
"I love you," I said.
"I love you too. Now fuck me."
I started moving. Slow, deep, grinding my pelvis against her clit with every thrust. Each stroke was a declaration, a vow projected onto her body. I watched her face, the way her lips parted, the way her lashes fluttered, the way her body arched up to meet mine.
"Harder," she begged. "Please, Kash, harder."
I gave her harder. I pulled out almost all the way and slammed back in, a brutal, grinding thrust that made her scream. I set a rhythm, fast and punishing, the bed groaning beneath us. Her nails raked down my back, leaving red paths of fire. I didn't care. I fucked her like the world was ending, because in a way, it was.
"That's it," I growled. "Take all of it. Take every fucking inch of me."
"Yes, yes, yes, don't stop, please don't stop."
Her legs wrapped around my waist, her heels digging into my ass, pulling me deeper. Her cunt fluttered, then clenched, and she came with a scream that tore through the quiet morning. I followed a moment later, my release flooding her, hot and thick.
But I wasn't done.
I pulled out and flipped her onto her stomach. She barely had time to catch her breath before I was hauling her hips up, pushing her face into the mattress. I slid my cock along the slick seam of her cunt, then pressed against her asshole, still slick from earlier.
"Again?" she gasped.
"Every way I can take you," I said. "Every way you want to be taken."
I pushed in, slow this time, feeling the tight resistance yield inch by inch. She moaned, a long, low sound that vibrated through her whole body. I seated myself fully inside her and stilled, letting her adjust, letting her feel me throbbing in her ass.
"I'm going to fuck you until the sun's up," I said, "and then I'm going to fuck you into tomorrow."
"Do it," she breathed. "Do it."
I did. I fucked her ass slow and deep, each thrust a desperate prayer. Then I sped up, the slap of my hips against her ass filling the room with wet, obscene sounds. She was crying, I could hear it, but she was also begging for more, her voice broken and raw.
"Harder," she sobbed. "Please, Kash, harder."
I slammed into her, my fingers digging into her hips, leaving bruises. She came again, a silent, shuddering release, her body going limp beneath me. I pulled out and turned her over, spreading her legs wide, and drove into her cunt one more time.
"I'll end it," I said, my voice rough with exertion and emotion. "I'll end it all. Haas, the lawsuit, every goddamn thing. I promise you, Amber."
She was sobbing and laughing, tears streaming down her face. "I know. I know you will. I believe you."
I came inside her one last time, my release pouring into her, and collapsed on top of her. We lay there, tangled and slick, the morning light painting us in gold. The war was waiting outside. But I had her, and she had me, and that was enough to face anything.
I rolled off her and pulled her into my arms, her back against my chest, my cock still softening inside her. I kissed the nape of her neck and whispered, "I'll end it. I promise."
She nodded, her hand finding mine, lacing our fingers together over her heart. And for a little while, we just breathed together, the world spinning on outside while we stayed still in the light.
She was quiet for a long moment, her fingers still laced with mine, her breathing slow and even against my chest. I thought she'd drifted off again, and I was content to let her, to lie there and hold her until the weight of the day forced us to our feet. But then she moved, rolling over to face me, her hand sliding from my chest to the swell of my cock, still slick from her ass, still semi-hard, twitching under her touch.
The look in her eyes had changed.
Not the glassy, spent haze of a woman who'd been fucked into oblivion. This was something sharper, something awake. Lust, yes, but behind it was a kind of deliberate calculation, a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and had just decided to reach out and take it.
"My turn," she said.
I blinked. "Your turn for what?"
She pushed me onto my back, planting a palm flat on my chest. Her weight settled across my hips, her thick thighs straddling me, and she looked down at me with that radiant, dangerous smile. The one that had walked into her salon and stolen my breath the very first time I saw her. The one that had built an empire from polish and grit.
"You've been talking about 'taking care of me' all night." She dragged her nails down my chest, leaving faint red lines. "And I let you. It was good, it was so goddamn good, baby. But now I need you to hold still and let me take care of you for a while."
"I'm always good with that."
"No." She leaned over me, her mouth brushing my ear, her voice dropping to that low, throaty register that made my spine tingle. "I don't mean like that. I mean I'm going to use you. This time I'm the one in control. And you're going to lie there and take it like a good boy, understand?"
The shift hit me like a shot of whiskey, hot and immediate. All night I'd been the one driving, pushing, claiming. Now she was flipping it. And the surge of arousal that slammed through my chest at her words, at the authority in them, was as surprising as it was undeniable.
"Yes, ma'am."
She grinned, a wolf's grin, and reached down to wrap her fingers around my cock. I was already hard again, achingly so, and she stroked me slow, teasing, her palm slick with the mix of her juices and my own come that still coated the shaft. I groaned, my hips bucking involuntarily, and she pressed her other hand flat on my belly.
"I said lie still."
"Sorry."
She leaned down and kissed me, a deep, devouring kiss that stole my thoughts. Her tongue swept into my mouth as her hand kept stroking me, a slow, torturous rhythm, her thumb circling the head, spreading the wetness. I was lost, drowning in her, every nerve ending screaming for more.
She pulled back, leaving me breathless, and shifted up the bed. Her cunt hovered over my face, slick and swollen, the scent of her driving me wild. She lowered herself until I could taste her, my mouth finding her clit instantly, and she moaned, her hips grinding against my face.
"Lick me," she commanded. "Slow. I want you to savor it."
I did. I lapped at her like she was the last meal I'd ever get, my tongue tracing every fold, sucking her clit between my lips until she was gasping and trembling. Her fingers fisted in my hair, anchoring me, guiding my mouth where she wanted it. She rode my face with an unhurried rhythm, taking her pleasure at her own pace, and I was helpless beneath her, completely surrendered.
When she finally pulled back, her thighs trembling, her cunt glistening, she crawled down my body. She wrapped her hand around my cock again and stroked me a few times, then flicked her tongue over the head, tasting herself on me. I hissed, my hands gripping the sheets.
"You like that?" she asked.
"Fuck yes."
She smiled, that wicked, knowing smile, and took me into her mouth. God, the heat of her, the way her tongue worked the underside of my shaft, the way she sucked me deep, taking me to the back of her throat and pulsing. She held me there, her nose pressed against my pubic bone, and swallowed around me. I was undone, my toes curling, my back arching off the mattress.
She released me with a wet pop and climbed up my body, straddling my hips. She positioned herself over my cock, the head pressing against her slick entrance, and looked down at me.
"Don't move," she said. "I want to ride you until I come so hard I forget my own name. And you're going to lie still and let me."
"Yes, ma'am."
She sank onto me, inch by inch, a slow, deliberate descent that stole my breath. Her eyes fluttered closed, her lips parted, and she let out a shuddering moan as she took all of me. She sat there for a moment, impaled, feeling me pulse inside her.
Then she started to move.
She rode me with a lazy, grinding rhythm, her hips rolling in slow circles that made my eyes roll back in my head. She leaned forward, her palms pressing flat on my chest, and looked into my eyes as she moved. There was a power in that gaze, a familiar fire. It was the fire that had built an empire from nothing, that had fought for me when I didn't deserve it.
"You feel that?" she whispered. "That's me. I'm the one taking you now."
"I feel it."
She sped up, her hips finding a rhythm, her thighs working. The slap of her ass against my hips filled the room, the bed groaning beneath us. I reached up to grab her hips, and she smacked my hands away.
"I said lie still."
"I'm trying."
"Try harder."
She rode me harder, faster, her breasts bouncing, her head falling back. The sight of her like this, powerful and commanding, her body claiming mine, was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen. I was just the instrument of her pleasure, and I'd never felt more alive.
She leaned forward again, her mouth finding mine, her hips never stilling. She kissed me deep and filthy, and I tasted myself on her lips. Then she pulled back, breathless, and whispered against my mouth.
"Touch me. Touch my clit. Make me come."
I slid my hand between us and found her swollen nub. She gasped, her rhythm stuttering, and I rubbed it in tight circles while she impaled herself on me. She was close, I could feel it, the way her inner walls clenched and quivered around me, the way her thighs trembled.
"Keep going," she breathed. "Don't stop."
She rode me with abandon, her hips slamming down, taking me as deep as she could. I matched her with my thumb, circling her clit with increasing pressure, and she shattered with a strangled cry, her body clenching around me in waves. I felt her come, felt her inner muscles milk me, and I came too, my release pouring into her as she rode me through the aftershocks.
She collapsed on top of me, her body slick with sweat, her breath coming in ragged gasps. I wrapped my arms around her and held her, stroking her back, kissing her temple.
"How's that for taking control?" she murmured.
"Best damn control I ever surrendered to."
She laughed, a soft, breathless sound, and kissed my cheek. Then she pushed herself up on her elbows and looked at me, that spark still burning in her eyes.
"I'm not done," she said. "Now I want to do something I've been thinking about all night."
"What's that?"
She slid off me, the loss of her heat a physical ache, and reached for the silk tie that had been discarded on the floor. She held it up, a smile playing at her lips.
"My turn to tie you up."
I let her take my wrist. I let her bind me to the headboard, the silk knotting snug but not tight. She knelt over me, straddling my chest, her cunt slick and swollen, just inches from my mouth. She looked down at me, a conqueror's light in her eyes.
"Now," she said, "worship your queen."
I did. I gave myself over completely, my tongue finding her clit the moment she lowered herself. She rode my face with a slow, deliberate rhythm, guiding my mouth with her fingers in my hair, commanding me with every shift of her hips.
"Slower," she said, and I slowed.
"Harder," she said, and I sucked harder.
"Don't stop," she breathed, and I didn't.
She came on my tongue with a long, shuddering moan, her thighs clenching around my head. I lapped up every drop, drinking her down until she finally pulled away, shaking and spent.
She untied me with trembling fingers and collapsed beside me, pulling my arm over her, tucking her head against my shoulder. The morning light was streaming through the curtains now, painting the room in brilliant gold. The war was out there, waiting. But in this moment, she was the victory.
I kissed her hair, her temple, the corner of her mouth. "Feel better?"
"Mm." She burrowed closer. "I feel like I could take on the world."
"You don't have to take on the world. You just have to let me."
She was quiet for a long moment, then lifted her head to look at me. Her eyes were clear, the fear and exhaustion from last night burned away. In their place was something steady and unbreakable.
"I love you, Kashawn King."
"I love you too, Amber Nicole King."
She kissed me, soft and slow, a promise. Then she settled back against my chest, her breathing evening out, her body finally at peace. I held her until the sun was fully up, until the sounds of the city rising filtered in through the windows, until I knew the day was truly upon us.
But before I let her sleep, I whispered the words again, a vow meant for her ears and mine.
"I'll end it. I promise."
She stirred, her hand finding mine. "Go win the war, baby."
I kissed her forehead and eased out of bed, my body sore and satisfied. Whatever Haas threw at us, whatever the day brought, I'd walk into it with her love and the taste of her on my lips.
And I'd come back to her.
Always.