King seemed to be trying to muddle through a maze of his own feelings as he nodded and answered, “Yeah, he’s sleeping.”

He looked like he needed a hug, so I went to him and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close. His arms went to my middle, his fingers innocently brushing against the curve of my bottom. We hugged for a long time, soaking up each other’s warmth and breathing one another in. Then suddenly he was backing me into my bedroom, and I didn’t stop him. We were already inside when he asked, “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, it’s okay.”

“I don’t want to leave yet,” he said, nose in my wet hair.

“I don’t want you to leave yet, either.” And it was true, not only because I savoured his presence, but also because my little urges in the bath hadn’t yet dissipated. I swear, just hearing him speak could probably get me off. He looked down at me then, and he must have read something in my face, because his eyes turned heated. His arms fell away from me as he seemed to consider something. Then, with a gravelly voice, he gestured to the bed and ordered me, “Lie down.”

Whoa. That was unexpected. The authoritative tone he used got my blood up. Swallowing thickly, I took three steps backward until my legs hit the bed. I lowered myself onto the mattress until I was flat on my back, chest rising and falling heavily, and waited for what came next. King’s eyes darkened as he sat on a chair and rubbed at his chin. I loved how his gaze traced me, eating up every detail.

“Undo your robe.” Unlike his first order, this time I heard a slight tremor in his voice. Was he nervous?

I never took my eyes off him as my hands fell to the tie and followed his command. Slowly, I brushed either side apart until my nudity was bared to him. He hissed in a breath and sat forward, elbows on his knees. His eyes were levelled on my breasts and my nipples, which were hardened into tight peaks. Then they moved lower.

His voice was thick when he spoke. “Lift your knees up and open your legs.” On the surface his words were crude, but it was the way he said them that held tenderness. Inside my chest, my heart was pounding with excitement. I loved this, loved how he was telling me what to do. Once I’d done as he’d asked, King let out an audible groan before muttering, “Jesus, you’re wet.”

He was right, I was. I was also aching, pulsing with a deep need for him to come and give me some relief. His next words, so tender and warm, made me moan.

“Touch yourself for me, love.”

Instinctively, I allowed my hand to run down my chest, caressing my breasts and pinching my nipples. I could hear King’s breathing fill the room, and when I looked at him, his hands were balled into fists. He must have been using all his willpower to keep from touching me, and I felt exhilarated. Slowly, I ran my hand down my stomach and between my thighs. My body shuddered when I brought my fingers to my sex and rubbed, my clit a tight bundle of need.

“Fuck,” King swore, and I shuddered, rubbing my wetness up and down my folds before circling my clit gently. I met his eyes, silently communicating that this was for him. His nostrils flared, his gaze on fire, and he was leaning forward so much he was about to fall off the chair. I would have found it funny if I weren’t so turned on.

“Put your fingers inside yourself,” he said gruffly, and I moaned again. I tried not to be too loud, since Oliver was sleeping just down the hall, but it was hard. King’s penis was a stiff length, outlined sharply against the crotch of his jeans. I stared at him, imagining it inside me, as my fingers slid in, filling me up. My hips rose off the bed as I moved them in and out. My eyes locked with King’s, and I never looked away, never stopped fingering myself as he devoured me with his gaze. Then I pulled them out and caressed myself up and down before rubbing at my clit again. My skin was hot and feverish, and my stomach was tight with the need to come.

“Let go for me,” King urged me, and I increased my speed, my little pants and moans loud in my ears. I was so wet it was almost embarrassing, because he hadn’t so much as touched me yet. Feeling the pleasure rush forward all at once, I gave my clit one final, hard rub, and my vision went blurry for a second. I orgasmed with a sharp cry.

I was rubbing out the waves when suddenly King loomed over me, his intentions clear on his face. He wanted to make love. The tender look in his eyes made me feel truly cherished. He was pulling his T-shirt off over his head as I scrambled for my bedside dresser to grab a condom. I’d bought a packet only days ago, in the hopes that maybe something would happen between us. Never in a million years did I think it would be like this, mind-blowingly kinky and earth-shatteringly hot – yet so emotional.

His shirt was off first, and as he focused on his pants, I took in the contours of his body. He was thicker than he used to be, still muscled but not as defined, yet somehow it was sexier for its lack of contrivance. In fact, in that moment he was the most arousing thing I’d ever seen. I shivered as I watched him. There were a couple of scars on his arms and one on his chest. I knew he probably didn’t remember where they’d come from, collected over the years he’d lost to his addiction. Life on the streets wasn’t easy. It was hard and brutal, and I was certain he’d found himself in fights on more than one occasion.

Anyhow, it wasn’t like my body hadn’t changed. I had old stretch marks and had gained a few extra pounds. It wasn’t a bad thing. It was just human. King’s eyes practically glowed, and I knew I was just as sexy to him as he was to me. It wasn’t so much about the shell but about the soul contained within.

When his pants were gone, I brought the condom to my mouth in an effort to seductively tear it open with my teeth. The foil wouldn’t rip, though, and we both shared a laugh at my epic fail. King placed a hand on my cheek, and murmured, “Christ, I love you.”

His words made me gasp and I stared at him in disbelief, the packet falling inelegantly from my mouth. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t believe him. I guess I’d just spent so long wishing to have him back that it was hard to believe it had become a reality. Anyhow, my disbelief didn’t last long, because even if my brain was hesitant, my heart knew he meant what he’d said.

He chuckled and bent down to nip at my chin as he took the condom from where it had landed on my chest. Clearly, I couldn’t be trusted with it.

“No need to look so shocked, darling,” he told me gently. “I never stopped loving you, not even in my darkest hour.”

“I’m not shocked,” I said, choking up. “I’m just trying to…absorb. I never stopped loving you, either.”

The smile he gave me in response made my chest ache. I watched as he tore open the condom with far more finesse than I could’ve mustered before rolling it down his hard length. I swallowed in anticipation as he brought his hands to my thighs and pulled them tightly around his hips. His erection brushed against me teasingly, and he bent to capture my lips with his. He kept his eyes open as he kissed me; it was both strange and captivating. I stared at him, fascinated by his every move. I loved the tension in his shoulders as he held himself up, and the strain of his biceps as he kept from entering me.

Then his hips began to move, slowly in and out, his cock nudging at my opening. I gripped his arms and moaned in frustration. He just barely slid inside before pulling out again and then finally drove himself in to the hilt with an almost feral growl. I cried out at the invasion, my body tight and out of practice. He felt amazing, so hot and slick. Not moving, he continued to kiss me, his tongue silky and wet, his eyelids fluttering closed from the pleasure. A shudder ran through him, but still he didn’t move. I loved the feel of him so deep inside me, filling up every inch. On instinct, I clenched around him, and his mouth fell from mine as he let out a quiet grunt.