My Beloved: A Thin Love Novella(8)

She barely had his shorts down and her shirt tossed on the floor before Kona was inside her, hands on her hips, eyes down as he watched their bodies coming together. “I f*cking love this, baby. The way you wrap around me, how hot you make my dick feel when I’m inside you.” Keira squeezed around him, trying to hold him still inside her and Kona closed his eyes, twisting his head as though he could only just manage the sensation of her body. “Fuck, I love you.”

“Show me.”

Then Keira couldn’t speak, could barely breathe as Kona moved his hands under her, cupping her butt to push harder into her. It wouldn’t be long, but Keira didn’t care. Buzzed sex was still amazing sex with Kona and she held onto him, relaxing her center, widening her muscles so Kona went deep, so she could feel every demanding stroke, every urgent thrust.

She watched his shoulders tremble, the wide, beautiful expanse of bone and muscle silhouetted against the moonlight coming through the glass door and Keira touched his face, slowing Kona’s movements until he leaned his forehead against hers, his breath heavy on her skin. “I’m not gonna pull out. I can’t. This is too good, baby. You feel too good and I want you to feel everything I’m giving you.”

Keira didn’t care about being cautious. She would marry Kona at the end of the week and she could think of worse things than having another of his babies. Right then, all she wanted was his hot breath on her mouth, his tight, hard grip against her hips and the delicious sensation of her core clenching, humming her closer and closer toward climax.

“Do it,” she told him, drunk on his touch, on the taste and feel of it. “Oh God, Kona… harder, please.”

He always did what she asked, especially when she said please. And he obeyed, just then, working harder, faster to bring her over the edge of oblivion, chasing after her to his just seconds later.

Afterwards, they lay silent, content for minutes, it could have been hours, turned toward each other, fingers against damp skin, breath mingling. Keira wanted this to last, to run from anything that would take them from that moment.

“You were mad today, weren’t you?”

She hadn’t expected his question, thought it was odd that Kona was mentioning their arrival after the past half hour that should have left them blissful and ignorant to anything but the touch of skin on skin.

“I don’t like photographers.”

“Baby, no one likes those *s.” He lifted on his elbow, moving Keira’s hair off her forehead. “I know you hate all that shit.”

“I have to deal with it. It’s your world. I’m a part of that now, right?”

“No. You are my world. All that other stuff is business, it’s work. You’re my home, baby. You’re all that matters.”

“I’ll adjust.”

“I don’t want you adjusting.” Kona pulled her so close that their hips met and he could wrap his massive, tattooed arm around her waist. “I want you happy. I want to make you happy.”

“You do, sweetie. I am happy.”

“You’d tell if you weren’t, right?”

Keira had seen Kona with his family that afternoon. She’d heard how loud and easy his laughter was, how he seemed settled, at peace. She didn’t care about photographers or resorts or a big wedding full of people she didn’t know. But this place, this island centered him, filled him up and the people Kona loved most wanted to celebrate with them. They wanted to honor the life they’d started together all those years before; the life that Keira once thought she would never have with Kona.

She watched his features, the low slope of his nose, the way his full lips bent behind his teeth, as though he expected her to disappoint him, to tell him to forget everything he’d been planning the past two days. But she couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t take this from him.

“I’d tell you if I wasn’t happy, Kona.” She kissed him, felt his body relax as she deepened the kiss. “You make me happy. You always have.” Keira felt those large, long fingers tighten on her waist, that massive hand slip low on her back and she inhaled, smiling against Kona’s mouth at the smell of his skin and sound of his pleased moan.

“I’ll keep you happy, Wildcat.” He rolled on top of her, ready for her once again, pushing her legs apart with his knee. “Let me show you how.”





The wedding planner was a waif-thin local girl called Nya. Her hair was straight, darker than midnight and she had a tiny waist and firm, large breasts that told Keira the girl had never been near a carb or seen the inside of a delivery room.

Keira hated her.

Everything out of her mouth was “Mr. Hale wants…” or “I’ll ask Mr. Hale his preference.” Nya treated Keira very much like the least important, most useless person in the wedding party.

Dear God, the wedding party.

Standing up for Kona would be his agent, Devon, who Keira had met a few times since Kona announced his retirement, and nine, as in not one or two but NINE, cousins. Aside from Leann and Mark, who Keira had sweet talked into flying halfway around the world to be in her wedding, Kona and his new bestie Nya had found three “aunties” and five of Kona’s female cousins to act as bridesmaids.

With the bride and groom, Ransom, a ring bearer, a miniature bride, and three ushers, their wedding party totaled twenty-eight.