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I know what he’s asking and the answer is no.
I shake my head.
He bends his face to mine and kisses me.
He’s rough.
It’s a promise of what’s to come.
And I’m weak at the knees for more.
But just when I think I know what’s next, he surprises me by ending the kiss and letting me go. “I’ve spoken to Winter and I won’t be staying in Melbourne once we’ve taken care of the thing we’ve got on this week.”
My brain is slow to catch up to what he’s saying. “What? You’re coming home straight away?”
“Yeah. I’ll leave tomorrow and I should be back home in a week or so.”
“And then you’re what? Staying here?”
He nods. “You need me here.”
I put my hands up between us. “No, King. I won’t come between you and what you need to do for the club. I’m good now. I can—”
“You’re not good, Lily. And neither are the kids. They need me here as much as you do.”
I shake my head repeatedly. “This isn’t what I want. Not if it’s not what the club needs. I just wanted you home for longer than a few days, that’s all.”
“This is what’s happening.” His statement is forceful. It’s his way of saying “end of story,” but as far as I’m concerned, it’s not the end of anything. We need to discuss this some more.
“Okay, so you do this. How long will it be before you resent the fact you’re home when your club needs you?”
“They won’t need me in Melbourne after this.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
He scrubs a hand over his face, his eyes glinting with frustration. King’s not a fan of defending his decisions, but sometimes I challenge him regardless. “Fucking hell, Lily, I thought you’d be happy about this.
”
“If it’s what you actually want, then I’m all for it. But if you’re only doing it because you think it’ll make me happy, I’m out. We should come to a better compromise. One that works for both of us.”
He turns silent. Contemplative. And then, moving faster than I see coming, he takes hold of my throat again and rasps, “This is what I want. Fuck”—his voice is strangled with the level of emotion I rarely see in my husband—“it’s what I need. I need to be home with you and the kids. Don’t fucking fight me on it.”
His words, and what I hear from him and see in him, all combine deep inside me, and I’m unable to hold myself back. I’m overcome with emotion that his admission brings out in me.
I love everything about King, even his moods and bossy ways, but this is one of my favourite parts of him: his raw honesty.
Grasping his face, I say, “God, I love you.”
With that, he finally gives in to our need for each other. Keeping one hand around my neck, he kisses me roughly again while undoing the tie of my dress. Once he has it undone, he pulls his lips from mine and strips me of my dress.
His eyes roam my body, hungry and filled with dark desires.
I’d do anything to grant him those desires.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he growls right before he lifts me and carries me to our bed.
In a few quick moves, he has me on the mattress and his clothes off.
