Page 156 of King of Pain
Chance storming into the restaurant, dripping wet and furious.
Our first kiss—right there in the middle of the restaurant lot, in the goddamn rain.
I scoff quietly to myself.
Who am I, John Cusack in every ‘80s RomCom movie?
But it wasn’t just the kiss.
It was everything that followed back here at his condo.
Chance’s hands on my body, mapping me out, trying to learn every inch.
His mouth stretched around my cock.
God, that mouth.
He was pulling sounds from me I didn’t even know I could make as he took me to the back of his throat over and over. How have I gone so long without this?
And then my hands were on him.
Touching him, stroking him—giving him something so intimate. Something that I always feared would dredge up the old nightmares buried deep inside me. But it didn’t. Not even a whisper of it.
Because this wasn’tthem.
This washim.
This wasme.
This was…us.
My choice. My body. My heart.
I know years of therapy had a lot to do with it. But also, it’s because it wasChance.
He’s safe. He’s home.
I can’t wait to do it again.
And so much more.
Behind me, I feel him stir. His hips roll instinctively, grinding his hard cock against my ass.
A second later, I feel his lips on my bare shoulder, pressing a soft, lingering kiss that shoots straight down my spine.
“Morning, Beautiful,” he murmurs, voice still thick with sleep.
I turn my head on the pillow, catching the mischievous sparkle in his barely open eyes.
A grin tugs at my mouth. “Does that mean I don’t get a morning text?”
Chance hums against my skin. “You can have anything you want.”
And fuck me, I believe him.
“What I want right now is breakfast,” I mutter, still catching my breath. “We left the food in my car—” I glance over my shoulder at him, narrowing my eyes, “—which is going to smell like curry now. And we never ate.”
Chance just grins, wicked and unrepentant.
