Page 32 of He Will Come for Me

Unable to take it anymore, I walk out of the room and to the kitchen. Frustration boils in my veins.Why can’t I remember? I want to remember.

“Kenz?”

Turning to Phoenix, I shake my head. “I’m sorry I can’t remember. I wish I could remember.”

Phoenix crosses the kitchen to stand in front of me. His hands grasp both sides of my neck and his thumbs rub along my jaw. “You do not need to be sorry about that.”

“Why can she remember and I can’t?”

He chuckles, but stops when I glare at him. “She wasn’t kidnapped by your father.” He says that like I should know what he means.

“Does my father hate me that much?” I wrap my arms around my stomach. He steps closer and pulls me into his body, wrapping me in his arms, his warmth, his scent. It calms me in a way I didn’t know was possible.

“He hatesmethat much,” he corrects.

“I have no idea what that means.” I wrap my arms around his waist, snaking my hands under his t-shirt to feel his toned skin.

“I have wanted to tell you so much since the day you woke up.” I rub my hands up his spine. I have thought about doing this for weeks now.

He leans down and runs his lips along my earlobe. “Kenz.” It sounds like a warning and a promise.

“Do you have a cute nickname for me like Banana?”

He chuckles as he replaces his lips with his tongue. I let out a shaky exhale. “I call you McFeisty.”

“What?” I don’t know whether to laugh or be offended.

“Usually it leads to an argument, then the best sex of my life.” He kisses me right below my ear as I try to comprehend what he just said to me.

“So, we’ve…” I don’t finish my sentence.

He leans back and looks me in the eye. “We’re married, love. And I’m not built to be celibate, so yes, we’ve Dot. Dot. Dot.”

I roll my eyes, but inside I’m on fire.I want to dot dot dot, now preferably.

“Now that you know, you’ll sleep in our room tonight. I’m sick of sleeping in that fucking chair,” he says.

Fear, maybe anxiety, settles in the pit of my stomach.What if I fart when I’m sleeping? Or talk? Or snore?I know technically he’s my husband. But I still remember him as the boy I had a crush on in high school. “Where’s my ring?”

He freezes, and I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad sign. “Do you want it?” he asks.

“Of course I do.” I look out over the backyard. “I may not remember being married to you, but when we were at the academy, I fantasized about it enough,” I admit. I don’t know if I ever confessed that to him or not.

He smirks at me. Leaning down, he places his forehead against mine. “Now I can kiss you whenever I want.” His mouth lands on mine. I gasp, giving him free access to slip his tongue in. He doesn’t hesitate as he strokes my tongue with his.

He grasps the back of my neck, pulling me in even closer as I feel him grow hard against my stomach. His other hand snakes down over my ass to the back of my thigh and he encourages me to jump. He grips my thighs, turns and places me on the kitchen island.

“You definitely taste better than chocolate chip cookies.” I can’t say anything before his mouth is devouring mine again.

I tighten my legs around him, bucking against him needing some friction. He scoots me to the edge of the counter and givesme exactly what I need. He thrusts against me slow and hard, touching every sensitive spot I have. I swear I feel every ridge of him.

“Nix, please,” I moan. He pauses and gazes at me. He has an unreadable expression, but before I can ask him about it, he unties my robe and grabs the band of my pajama shorts. I don’t hesitate; I put all my weight on my hands and lift my hips. He pulls my shorts and panties down my legs. Dropping to his knees, he spreads my legs.

I expect him to dive in, instead he stares. Leaning up, I look to see what he’s doing. When he continues to stare, I try to shift and close my legs.

“Did I say you could move?” His eyes don’t leave my pussy. I open my mouth to talk, but I don’t know what to say, so I close it. He places his lips on the inside of my knee, kissing it gently before he moves higher up my thigh.

Anyone could find us. Clara or Rex could walk out here, but I don’t care. He pulls me closer to the edge. I think I might fall off. When I’m where he wants me, he spreads my legs until my knees hit the island. I lean back, catching myself on my hands as his lips touch the crease of the inside of my thigh.

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