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Each and every time he pulled out it felt just as amazing as when he pushed back inside. He started to pump faster, steady at first, then more erratic. More desperate. More like King’s only mission in life was to tear an orgasm from my body.

I was lost in the sensation of the in and out.

The push and pull.

The clench and release.

The throb and pulse.

The fucking mind-blowing amazingness of being able to not only see this man again. But to kiss him. Touch him.

Have his baby.

There was a time not that long ago, when I truly thought I’d never see him again. I certainly never thought he’d be finger fucking me back against the pillar where it had all started.

Where we had started. It was in that very spot where I gave myself to him the first time. And it was in that very spot again where I gave myself to him all over again.

Even though in my heart I’d never really stopped being his.

Sensation started building on top sensation. Pleasure on top of pleasure. I could no longer tell a push-in from a pull-out. I was so charged up, I felt like I could power an entire city on the energy humming inside me.

The mounting pleasure became almost too much. I desperately needed some sort of release before I fell apart under the pressure.

“Fuck!” I cried out.

“That’s the plan, Pup.” King removed his fingers and sucked them into his mouth. “Fuck. My tongue is going to be spending a lot of time getting reacquainted with that beautiful pussy of yours, but right now I need to put my cock inside you.”

“Yes,” I panted.

King made quick work of his belt and jeans. His cock sprang free of its confinement. Without another beat King wrapped his hand around the thick shaft and pushed the head into my folds, soaking it with my wetness, before pushing inside with a long hard thrust that made us both cry out at the same time.

King gripped the back of my thighs, his fingers pressing roughly into my flesh.

And then he kissed me. Hard.

He kissed me as if it were that very kiss sealing our connection. Our fate. Our lives.

Together.

I was close. So close that I was almost afraid of how hard I was going to come. King’s breathing changed from steady against my lips to erratic as he hammered into me hard and fast. My nipples grazed his chest with every thrust. My clit rubbed against the base of his cock.

The man who I was once so fearful of, a man who was capable of so much violence, and yet so much love, was struggling for control.

Because of me.

Because he was fucking me.

Because he wanted me.

Forever.

We’re a forever kind of thing.

It was my undoing.

The tension that had been building inside of me tightened to the point of pain before it finally broke, sending every single part of my body into spasm after spasm, rolling over me in brutal waves of blinding white-hot pleasure. I cried out, a strangled sounding moan, holding tightly on to King, who when I started to convulse around his cock, released a moan of his own. I rode out my orgasm, writhing against him until he’d wrung out every last bit of pleasure from my weak body.

He followed me over, thrusting with wild abandon until he exploded inside of me, filling me with warmth.

With love.

With him.

*     *     *

King rested his forehead against mine as we tried to catch our breaths, but he didn’t put me down. My legs still wrapped around his waist.

Our bodies still one, neither of us in a rush to break the connection we’d waited so long for.

“What do you want to be called now?” he asked out of nowhere. “Doe? Ray?”

“Why does that even matter? Because whatever I choose, you’ll just call me Pup anyway.”

“True, but we need to know what to put on the form.” King said, pressing tender soft kisses all over my lips and face, even the tip of my nose and eye lids.

“What form?” I asked.

“It’s upstairs on the counter. Grace picked it up earlier for me. We’ll have to go and sign it together, but we can fill it out here. I figured since we were changing your last name, you might as well change the first one at the same time. Save some trouble.”

“My last name?” I asked. “What form? What thing?”

“Always with the fucking questions, Pup.” King teased with fake annoyance.

“The paper you need to fill out when you get hitched. The fucking…marriage paper.” King said dismissively like we’d talked about it a million times before.

I gasped. “Are you proposing?”

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