“My turn,” I growl. I slide my arm around her waist and flip us over, drawing back before driving my cock deep inside her.
She cries out, but before I can worry that I’ve been too rough, she grips my shoulders, gasping out two words. “Take. Me.”
“What?”
“Fuck me how you want,” she says, her voice breathy and urgent. “I’m yours, King.”
“You’re giving yourself to me?”
“Yes,” she moans. “Do what you want with me. You own me. Now take me.”
This is it, her final surrender, her admission of trust. She’s submitting to me, giving over control, giving me what I need more than anything, what she withheld for so long. My punishment is over. My penance is done. I’ve earned her submission, earned the right to possess this treasure and take it as my own.
I drive into her again, thrusting my cock to the hilt inside her pulsing cunt. She spreads her thighs wide, submitting to my claim eagerly this time, arching her back and raising her hips for me to go deeper. I slam into her body as hard as I can, pounding her into the mattress until she lets go again. When her cunt pulses tight around me as she finds her second release, I let myself go, too. I sink my cock into her core and grind into her as I explode with everything I’ve been holding back for months. She cries my name as my hot cum spurts into her.
Together, we are lost. Lost to everything but what truly matters. This moment, right here, right now, and the long-overdue pleasure we find in each other. Lost to everything but each other, two broken souls who thought they’d never find love, never deserve it.
Our bodies meld in bliss, locked together like our souls have finally fit together in perfect alignment, fusing into one love. She’s made for me, and I’m made for her, filling her to her limits. I know in that moment I’m well beyond saving, that there’s no hope of me ever resisting the love I thought I could deny. I love her beauty, her delicateness, even her brokenness. But I also love her strength, her plotting mind, her sharp tongue. I love that she’s a match for me, that she made me fall for her without even noticing. That she challenges me and makes me grow so much it hurts. And god, I love fucking her. I give her everything I have, not just my body but my soul, my heart, my life. She is all that matters.
We are all that matters.
This.
Us.
Forever.
epilogue
One Year Later
Eliza
“I have a surprise for you,” I say, grabbing King’s hand the moment he walks in the door. I pull him into the living room before he can ask.
He looks around and smiles. “It looks great,” he says. “Did you clean?”
“The maid did that,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Now come here. I got you something.”
“You already sent me a picture today,” he says, a naughty gleam in his eye. Even though King can feast his eyes on me any time he wants and satisfy himself with my body instead of his hand, he likes it when I send him racy pics, so I send him a surprise text every now and then.
I hand him a small, wrapped box. “Before you open it, I just want to say… Thank you. For being so patient with me, and working with me through my therapy, and my relapses, and—Just thank you. For everything. I want to say I don’t deserve it, but I’m not allowed to say that anymore.”
“That is correct,” he says, leaning in to kiss me. “And you didn’t have to get me anything. But thank you.”
“You taught me that,” I say. “That I’m worthy of love. That it’s okay to accept it.”
“I think you’re confusing me with your therapist,” he says with a grin.
“I’m not,” I say, shoving his shoulder. “She onlysaysthat. Youdoit. You’re the one who works with me on it. You’re the one who loves me and forces me to accept it.”
“Damn straight,” he says. “Now, are you going to propose, or can I open this?”
I laugh and shake my head. “I think you have to be married more than a year before you can renew your vows. Open it.”
“It’s been a year and a half,” King reminds me, but he obeys. He opens the box and stares down at the little white wand inside. I wait, not even breathing, for him to say something. I start to think this was a really stupid idea, and what if he’s not excited, and he doesn’t consider this a gift?
At last, he raises his eyes to mine, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear they’re a little shiny.