Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

Willa

I 'm tipsy from the champagne. King and I weren't expecting to attend an impromptu wedding, but we went with the flow and both of us imbibed a little too much, prompting an Uber ride from Brienne's house to his condo.

There's no hesitation from either of us, both fully understanding we're going to have sex before we go to bed. It's the time of the evening I was most looking forward to because when I'm with King intimately, it's when I feel the closest to him.

When I'm most sure of things.

In the elevator, he pins me against the wall and places soft, tingly kisses down my neck. When I try to squirm away because they tickle, his hand wraps in my hair and he tugs my head to expose my throat. He grazes his teeth down to my collarbone and I'm consumed by a full-body shudder.

"I want you so much," I whisper, my hands pressing into his chest and wondering if sex in an elevator is as erotic as it sounds.

His eyes, dark with desire, meet mine as he breathes heavily against my skin. But the ding of arrival to his floor breaks us apart, and with a sigh, he grabs my hand and leads me quickly down the hallway.

Inside his condo, he pulls me in tight, lips claiming mine in a fierce kiss of longing and need. I cling to him, the heat of his body searing through me and then he's lifting me up. My legs wrap around his waist, thanks to the swishy skirt of my dress, our mouths fused as he navigates us back to his bedroom and then we're on the bed. Our hands make short work of clothes before we're gloriously free and naked.

As we lie there, skin to skin, tongues tangled and hearts racing, the evening before this moment fades away, leaving only the intensity of the connection between us. Just as I knew would happen here in the sanctity of his bedroom.

King's hands trace the lines of my body, sending shivers down my spine. I can feel his breath on my neck, a warm sensation that ignites a fire inside me. "Oh, the dirty things I'm going to do to you tonight, baby," he murmurs and I nearly combust.

"I'll be compelled," I gasp as his hand covers my breast, "to do the same back to you."

King chuckles at my promise and with each touch, each whispered word, we become more entwined. His touch is like an electric charge coursing through my veins, awakening every nerve ending and igniting an insatiable hunger I've never felt for any man.

And he's the only one who can feed it.

Fingers glide down my back, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. I arch into his touch, my body begging for more. King's lips nibble down my neck, scoring me with a prickle of fire. I moan, the sound echoing in the quiet night.

I run my fingers through his hair, feeling the silken strands slide between my fingers and when his mouth closes over my nipple, I hold him tight to me. "King," I whisper. "I need…"

My words drift away like smoke on the breeze as his hand goes between my legs. "What do you need?" he asks gruffly.

"More," I whine, my hips rotating in silent demand.

And then he's over me, condom on, spreading my legs, inside me. The pressure is unbearably good and I groan at his invasion. King's eyes lock with mine, filled with what I can only read as thick desire and tender vulnerability. He moves slowly, but with a deliberate purpose. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure through me, and I arch my back to meet his every stroke.

Our bodies sync in a rhythm that is both familiar and electrifying. It's just us, lost in the intensity of our connection. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into me, craving the intimacy that only he can give. Our eyes never leave each other's as we move together, lost in the moment where only the two of us reside.

The passion between us builds, our breathing becoming heavier with each passing second. I'm drowning in the intensity of the moment and yet, I don't want to be saved. I want to let go and sink all the way into him.

I want to believe in all his ideals of what we can have together.

My orgasm slams into me from nowhere, shattering what little control I had and I scream out his name. King slams faster into me, grunting his pleasure and then he's planting deep. His head drops and he gathers me in close and growls as he comes, "So fucking good."

My fingertips play along his back, his muscles rippling from his release, and I feel his heart beat against mine.

King rolls us, keeping me close, his thick length still inside me. As we lie there, spent and intertwined, his hand idly strokes my hip.

He's strangely quiet.

One of the things I've come to love about this man is that he's not the type to roll right over and go to sleep after making love. He likes to talk, mellow and replete, and it makes for deep conversation. It's where we've had some of our most genuine discussions and why I can't keep my emotions locked away.

I wait and I wait and I wait, but he remains lost in his own thoughts.

"You're quiet tonight," I muse.

"Mmm," he hums low in his throat. "Just thinking about the wedding."

"It was pretty awesome," I admit, lifting up to smile at him.

King doesn't return the smile, his expression pensive. "Would you ever get married again?" I'm stupefied by the question and can only stare at him. "Because you seem so closed off to the possibility that something real could ever exist for you. I'm wondering if you'll always be held in reserve. Is casual all you've got in you?"

It hits me hard that he's bothered by this and I don't want to slough it off as inconsequential or even terrifying that he's putting pressure on me to commit to something. I sit up on the bed, leaning against his side and placing my palm on the mattress so I fully face him. "I've surpassed casual with you, King. Surely you know that."

He nods, hand going to my thigh for a squeeze. "Yeah, I know that. But the comments you made tonight at the wedding… I'm not sure you'll ever be able to give of or open yourself fully."

It's a legitimate question and I have no qualms with him asking it, even this early on in our relationship. King is such a good guy and he deserves to know exactly what I'm thinking. "I guess the answer is, I don't know what I'm capable of. I've already exceeded my desire to keep things simple between us. I know I care for you a great deal and I don't think there's anything casual about what we have."

"I didn't really know that until just now," he says.

"It pays to talk," I tease, earning his smile. "Maybe it would help for you to know a bit more about what Scott did to me."

"It will make me want to kill him, but by all means," he says.

I shake my head. "No, I'm not talking about regurgitating all the horrible words and the way he treated me. I think you can imagine it. I'm talking about what that did to me inside… to my confidence, my belief systems, my heart."

King swallows hard and nods.

"When you're raised in an abusive environment the way I was, all you ever do is think about the day you will escape. You promise yourself that you will find true love, you'll never put up with that behavior from a man, and you praise yourself for your strength and resilience. You start to believe that you can have a better life and that you'll break the pattern. And that's exactly how I felt when I left home at eighteen to attend college. I had four glorious years of dating, having healthy relationships, and any unhealthy ones I cut off quick. I recognized the signs, avoided men who could be like my dad and I thought I was the strongest woman in the world. When I got accepted into medical school, I wasn't most proud of my book-smarts but of my street-smarts."

King watches me with deep pools of understanding and sorrow in his eyes, because I think he gets why I'm setting up the backstory.

I glance down at where my palm is pushed into the mattress. "But I still ended up in the exact situation I promised myself I'd never be."

"Willa," King says, but I shake my head, lifting my gaze to his.

"I'm embarrassed I let it happen. So fucking ashamed of myself, because in hindsight I saw the signs from the start. The little ways he needed to have control, talking at me instead of to me, bursts of anger that he was able to rein in at first, but then would escalate into fights. I saw all of that, knowing it was just the tip of the iceberg, and still I married that man." I press my hand to King's chest. "I don't think you can really understand what that did to me. How bad it made me feel about myself."

"But you left him. You got out. You took your life back."

I nod, smiling sadly. "I did, but that did not alleviate the shame. I felt it every day. Still feel it as a matter of fact. I'm my toughest critic and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't remind myself what an idiot I was where Scott was concerned. Do you understand what that means?"

King shakes his head.

"It means I don't trust myself. That I don't know if I'm a good judge of character, and even worse is the thought that maybe I am a good judge of character and yet I still put myself in harm's way, so that just makes me a dumbass who's a glutton for punishment."

Golden eyes stay locked onto mine and he licks his lips. "I don't even know what to say to that."

"I don't know how to fix me," I say, understanding how lost he feels. "But I'm trying, King. I've opened up to you in ways I didn't think possible. I know it's slow going, but I ask that you have patience with me."

"I will," he promises, hand coming to the back of my neck to pull me in for a gentle kiss. "I'll give you all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere and I can back off if—"

"No," I exclaim, a sudden panic hitting me hard at the thought of King taking a single part of himself away from me. "Don't back off. Just… keep being you, because you've got me reconsidering what I thought I knew." I take his hand in mine. "Just don't give up if I get squirrelly."

King chuckles, lifting our hands so he can kiss my fingertips. "I won't give up, even if you're squirrelly."

I stare at him a moment, taking in his gorgeous face that doesn't have a single thing to do with why I am attracted to him. It has everything to do with what's inside. "I adore you," I say, leaning over him so our faces are close. "You know that right?"

"You just told me, so I believe you," he replies before pulling me down onto him. He wraps his arms around my waist to hold me tight, whispering, "I adore you too."