Page 135 of Tainted

“Come lay your legs on my shoulders and tell me the real problem.”

“Stop it, Kenyon,”

But it was too late. Kenyon was already undressing me. I needed to feel him too so I didn’t object when he parted my thighs and made himself comfortable between them.

“If I give you something, you have to trust me and not ask any more questions.”

I hesitated, but the warmth of his touch sent a different kind of energy coursing through me. The tension between us shifted from frustration to something else entirely.

“I won’t.”

Kenyon paused, scratching his head, unsure if he could trust me with whatever was on his mind.

“He’s a district attorney running for Senate and Sydney’s father.”

But then Kenyon kissed my pussy with the same intensity as the lips on my face. Slow, passionate, and full of everything unsaid between us. My hands moved through his hair, feeling the tension in his muscles as he slid his arms around my waist.

“Now that’s out of the way. I’m all ears. Tell me why you’re really upset,” he coaxed, planting another round of kisses that made me squirm like a fish out of water. “Tell me so I can fix it.”

My clit jumped, listening to Kenyon beg for my words. I was his weakness. It was where he let himself feel vulnerable, even if it was brief. Outside these moments, he was guarded and confident, always playing it cool until he unraveled.

“Is this about Phoenix?” he guessed, lifting his chest enough for his thumb to stroke my bundle of nerves. Anyone who didn’t enjoy their man’s fingers hadn’t experienced it like this.

Then his tongue brushed across my clit, forcing me to gasp while trying to gather my thoughts. I wanted to admit I had never felt this way about a man before, and it was scary.

“I might’ve fucked around, but I’ve only made love to you,” he mumbled, branding my thighs with his lips before sitting up to stare at me like it was everything he had prayed to God for. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it. Please.”

“Some days, this feels like too much. Y-you’re too much,” I paused, realizing I was doing it again. Stammering like an idiot, "But I can’t help myself. You should scare me, but you don’t. I can’t stop wanting you. Even when it feels like too much.”

“I’d never let anything happen to you. I’d give my last breath to make sure of that.”

“K-Kenyon…” I stuttered, not even sure what I wanted to say next.

“You have to trust that like you trust your lungs to breathe. Trust me Babygirl. Please.”

Just when I thought the moment had peaked, his lips hovered near my ear, and when he spoke again, the words that came out weren’t English. I didn’t know what the hell any of it meant, but it sounded so sexy as I clutched his shoulders for dear life.

Only one word stood out—Amor. I met an Amour once. She was born on Valentine’s Day, which is how she got her name. That story was the only reason I knew what it meant.

“Te amo?*,” His words were gentle authority as he bucked deeper, begging me to take care of his heart because he had never trusted it with anyone else.

“What does that mean?” I whispered, my voice shaky.

“I love you, Zara Nicole.”

* I love you

26

Kenyon

Ihad been gone for twenty minutes, and Zara had called my phone two times. That wasn’t counting the to-do list she had run down before I walked out the door. Now that it was vibrating in my pocket make that three.

“Wassup Babygirl?”

“She has two bags I packed in the closet. Don’t forget them,” Zara ordered.

“Keep calling my phone, and Banana Girl and I are running away together.”

---