Page 255 of By His Vow
“The contract we signed,” I counter.
His hands move—one of them slides to my neck, and the other drops to my waist before my back presses against the cold wall behind me.
I gasp in surprise, but he doesn’t react—not to my shock, at least.
“What about this right now doesn’t feel real, baby?” he asks before his lips descend on mine.
He kisses me deeply, stealing away all my thoughts and concerns and replacing them with nothing but him. His touch, his scent, his unwavering confidence.
Wrapping his hand around my thigh, he hitches my leg up around his waist, letting me feel how hard he is again against my sensitive pussy.
“King,” I moan.
“Life is too short to fight what’s right in front of us, Tatum. And a year is a long time to deny what we really want.”
The mention of our expiration date is almost enough to drag me back to reality, but then his lips find mine again, and my feet leave the floor.
He walks us effortlessly to the bathroom and then directly into the shower. Not once does he release my lips. I’ve no idea if it’s for fear of what might come out of them yet or because he just can’t stop.
Both options fucking terrify me.
But I also can’t argue.
We put ourselves here; we decided to spend the next year of our lives together. Why shouldn’t we enjoy it? Reap the benefits we can give each other?
Because you’ll never just be an arrangement with benefits…
Ice-cold water rains down on us, effectively stealing my thoughts and fears at the same time Kingston drops me lower, entering me easily as he backs me up against the wall.
“Can’t get enough of this pussy, Tatum. And I know you feel the same about my dick. Stop thinking and just enjoy. Take the pleasure where you can get it.”
64
KINGSTON
“Look out, it’s a big one,” I say in the worst Australian accent imaginable as I heave a huge and heavy box from the back of the pile.
After Tatum’s…emotional moment, shall we say, in the bedroom, I haven’t given her a second to get lost in her head.
I get it. I really fucking do.
What we’ve found here together is fucking terrifying. But things could be so much worse. I am married to this incredibly sexy woman who challenges me as much as she makes me laugh. Not to mention that our chemistry is off-the-charts hot. I’ve never experienced anything like it before. Sure, I’ve had hot sex, but nothing—and I literally mean nothing—compares to her.
Is it a problem? For right now, no. It’s fucking not. But in twelve months’ time, it very much could be.
But that’s twelve months away. Why can’t we just enjoy what we have right now? Anything could happen in that time. A year ago, we certainly never would have predicted that we’d be where we are now, that’s for sure.
Everything happens for a reason, right? That’s what everyone says.
Maybe Tatum and I are meant to learn something from this whole experience. Maybe it’s going to teach us lessons that we’re going to need for the rest of our lives, and we’ll be able to always look back on our time together fondly.
“You’re an idiot.” She laughs as I place it in front of her.
The living room is a disaster. After ignoring the gifts for a week, we’re finally working our way through the obscene pile.
I mean seriously, who in their right mind actually thinks we need any of this stuff?
Do either of us look like a Lazy Susan kind of person? We only invited those closest to us; surely, they’re aware that we’ve both lived on our own for a few years? We don’t need new sets of glasses or a lace-edged fucking tablecloth. I mean, come on, it’s been a long time since nineteen-seventy-freaking-five. The only people who still have lace-edged tablecloths also still have vases of bad fake flowers and those fucking frilly lace things underneath them. Baby tablecloths, if you will.