Assumption (Underground Kings #1)(65)

My hands are fighting to get free, wanting so badly to grab him. His hands shift to hold on to my wrist, forcing my hands flat down on the bed. His hips shift forward and he enters me again, this time thrusting fast and hard. My hips rise up to meet his, my legs wrapping around his waist.
I start to feel that deep tingle in my core, but just when I know I’m going to come, he pulls out, his hands release mine, and his body shifts. Then his hands push my thighs farther apart and his mouth lands on my center, pulling my clit between his lips. I come on a scream, my hands holding on to his hair as I ride out my orgasm.
His mouth lifts, and before I even come down from my high, he flips me to my elbows and knees and his hand slides up my spine to the back of my neck, pressing my head deeper into the mattress. Then his hands go to my hips and lift them higher, and he surges deep inside on a swift thrust.
“God, yes,” I moan and start to get up on my hands when they are grabbed from the mattress, pulled behind my back, and used to pull me back into him so hard that the slapping of his skin against mine causes a slight sting against my ass.
“Give it to me, baby. Give me what I want.” He thrusts harder, and this time when I start to feel the pull to come, he releases my hands and pulls me up against his chest. His mouth moves to my ear. His hands separate, one zeroing in on my clit, the other pulling one nipple. I come hard and fast, bucking against him. “Fuck, yes,” he mumbles in my ear, his thrusts slowing until he plants himself deep inside me, where I can feel him pulsing.
His hand releases my breast, traveling up my neck and turning my face towards his before he takes my mouth in a deep kiss. He pulls out of me, making me whimper, then flops down on the bed, pulling me down on top of him. I lie there in silence for a few minutes, listening to the sound of water while feeling the slight breeze coming from outside glide across my damp skin.
“Where are we anyways?” I ask, getting up on an elbow so I can look down at him.
“Go look out the door.” He smiles, and I debate on whether or not I want to get up before pulling myself away from him.
I find his shirt at the end of the bed and quickly slip it on over my head before walking to the doors. The closer I get to the doors, the brighter it gets outside. My breath catches as I take in the view before me. There is a pink beach that leads to water so blue that it looks like a painting.
“Oh my God,” I whisper and feel hands slide around my waist. My hands slide over Kenton’s and I tilt my head back so I can look into his eyes. “Where are we?”
“The Bahamas.” He smiles, bending down to kiss my mouth.
“Is the beach pink or are my eyes playing tricks on me?”
“It’s pink.”
“Wow.” Who would have thought there was a place in the world with pink-sand beaches?
“What do you say you put on that bikini I saw in your bag and we go snorkeling?” he asks.
I smile and nod before completely turning around in his arms. “Thank you for this.” I get up on my tiptoes, press my mouth to his, and then duck under his arm, running back into the room so I can put my suit on. I hear him laugh and the sound only makes me smile bigger.
The rest of our honeymoon is spent either in bed or on the beach. I can’t imagine it being any more perfect.
*
“Babe, get the door!” Kenton yells from his office.
I roll my eyes and drop the shirt I was folding to the bed. “You could say please!” I yell back, bouncing down the stairs with Tubs right behind me. I hear him laugh but don’t hear him say please.
We have definitely fallen into the role of a married couple—except I don’t cook or clean. We have a housekeeper who comes once a week, and Kenton cooks dinner most nights, because anytime I get near a stove, it’s a recipe for disaster.
I swing the front door open and my world tilts. “Mom,” I whisper in shock. Before I realize what’s happening, her hand is coming across my face in a slap so hard that my head flies to the side.
“How dare you?” she hisses, lifting her hand again. I can hear Tubs going crazy.
“I have never hit a woman in my life, but I will tell you right now. You touch her again and I will put you down,” Kenton growls while stepping between my mom and me.
My hand hasn’t moved from my cheek. I can still feel the sting of her slap, and my body heats up. My vision blurs—not with tears, but with rage. I have been through hell and she shows up here not out of concern, but out of self-preservation. I know exactly why she’s here.
Kenton found my father not long after we got home from our honeymoon. At first, I wasn’t going to contact him, but after a long talk with Kenton and Nancy, I decided I had nothing to lose. If he didn’t want to talk to me or have a relationship with me, it wouldn’t hurt any more or any less than if I didn’t reach out to him. So I called him, and to say he was adamant that I was a scammer is an understatement.
It wasn’t until Justin sent him a copy of my medical records that he called me back. He told me that my mom told him that I’d died when I was three and that I had been cremated. He said that he still had the urn that he believed my ashes were held in. He explained that my mom moved out of the area they lived in a few days after she dropped off what was supposed to be my remains to him, and he never heard from her again.
“Do not come between me and my child,” my mom hisses, trying to get around Kenton.
I don’t even know what comes over me, but the rage I have felt since I was young gives me the strength to get around Kenton’s body, which I swear is expanding before my eyes.