Forever the One (Always and Forever 3)

“You’re more than your scars my Queen, more than the fears that swallow you whole. I know who broke you and I also know the person to help heal you. Let me be the one, let me be the one who heals the deepest wounds, the ones deeper than your skin.” I pause leaning down to kiss her scar with my pursed lips and the tip of my tongue, all the way from the top to the bottom.

“The ones that torment your soul. You’re rising from the wreckage, Lana. You’re the strongest fucking person I know, be the survivor, quit letting him win.” Her tears are mixing with mine. I don’t cry. I’m nowhere near a sensitive guy, but seeing her like this destroys me. Knowing she woke up to the man she once loved cutting her, scarring her forever kills me. Lana faced that alone and I hate that I didn’t know.

“Kingston, I’m not a Queen. Queens are strong, not weak. I wasn’t born to be a Queen.”

“Wrong Lana, you’re wrong. You were born to be my Queen. I’m the King and I protect my Queen. That includes protecting you from your own self.” I kiss her forehead turning my deep penetrating voice into a gentle whisper. “Please let me in, let me love the broken parts, let me love the beautiful scars that show your survival.” I’m not sure where these words are coming from or where along this road I changed. But fuck, I love the man I am becoming for her.

I lick her tears away one by one, then kiss each of her closed eyelids. “This is the part where you say you’ll let me help heal you.” Chuckling along with me, she nods.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay Kings.”

I accept her answer. “Good.” Standing, I carry her to the bedroom, ready to show her the touch of true love. One where only love can be made and never feared. I will rebuild her, I will save her.

Tonight was a breakthrough, a huge step for my relationship with Kingston and for my own personal growth. I dreamt of even just an inkling of freedom for years, only to find freedom isn’t just physical but emotional as well.

I’m still scarred from the past and I crave the feeling of succumbing to total freedom. Joel still lingers in my every thought and every action. I’m always scared the disapproving blows will come from the shadows and drag me down while I plead and cry for help.

I still hear his threat as if he was here now, “You will never be able to leave me. I’ll be in every dark corner, in your every thought, and I will shatter every moment that brings you the slightest bit of happiness. Because you will forever be mine.” For once, that threat seems to finally be laid to rest because Kingston makes me feel safe, even in the shadows.

Laid out under his strong body built to protect me and fight like a warrior makes me grow needier. He looks so handsome, so desirable—delicious. He is my King, defending me with honor and reviving me by breathing air back into my lifeless body. How could I not desire him more?

“I love you Kingston. Thank you.” Removing his lips from my chin, his gaze falls upon mine, his smile reverent, his eyes shining.

“I love you Lana James. We’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna have a beautiful life together.” I nod, trusting him. Reaching down he touches my clit with the flick of his fingertip. I arch from the bed as he latches onto my nipple. He hasn’t spent more than a minute off my breasts since I showed him them, I think he’s found a new obsession.

“You’re so responsive tonight, beautiful. Tell me what you want.” Sitting straight up on his knees perched between my raised ones he doesn’t remove his finger. He just keeps sliding it up and down my wet, open slit.

“I want you to show me how much you desire me.” He eyes my body from the top of my hair down to my pink, painted toes.

“I don’t need sex to show you. I look at you and I fall more and more in love with you. I hear that laugh.” He tickles my side and I giggle. “I get to see you before I sleep and the first thing in the morning. Those small things make me crave you most.”

“Baby.” I reach up and run my fingertips across the tattoo of my name.

“Call me baby again,” he begs bringing his hand to run across his broad chest, biting his lip while I tease his lower stomach, just above his pelvis.

“Baby,” I moan watching him bring his finger to his lips to bite his knuckle. His cock bobbing, it’s so hard. I feel like a goddess under his lusted gaze.

“I touched myself after you got this tattoo,” I confess, unashamed. Kingston and I can be completely who we want, completely intimate without any kind of embarrassment. We both crave that deep connection, the unadulterated lust.

“Fuck yeah, show me—tell me.” I bring my finger as high as I can and he knows what I’m asking. Leaning forward he licks my finger. Pulling it from his mouth I reach down to my clit and start rubbing it, slowly.

“Mmmm, I saw the tattoo and I kept picturing you stroking yourself to the thought of me, my name right there. I thought about any woman you might be with, and how she will see my name and know that you’re thinking of only me.” He cuts me off, grabbing his hard cock.

“I wouldn’t touch another woman, ever. I only want you.” He starts stroking himself and I’m turned on even more, giving my finger a new coat of arousal. I start to move my finger faster, matching his rhythm. He moans, biting his lip. I love when he bites his lip, add moaning and I’m complete putty in his hands.

My fingers move faster over my sensitive clit and I feel my impending orgasm building to the surface, breaking through the barrier and threatening to come fast. I watch him stroke faster and squeeze himsel

f tighter while he watches my skillful fingers move.

“Kingston, I’m gonna come!” I moan into the silence of the night.

“Not without my cock, baby. Give me your eyes and spread your legs farther.” My eyes fly open and I look up into his green irises, spreading my legs as far as they will go before they reach the point of pain. His next action has my moans turning to pleasureful screams. Without any warning he plunges deep and hard inside me, my walls sucking him in deep and my clit pulsing with a long orgasm. It feels like hours, it takes everything in me to stay conscious and focus back on Kingston.

“Fuck. I love making you come, you’re so beautiful, Lana,” he professes, slowly thrusting into me with long, drawn out movements. It feels lazy, it feels like what love should be—it feels like lovemaking. I’m making love to my man for the first time. Before it was pure sex for me, desire more than anything. Now, I’m discovering Kingston as my lover, my partner, my best friend.