Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad
Chapter 207

But he lets me continue.

"This is mine, Kent," I say softly, dropping my hand. "If I let you take the blame...you also take from me my conviction that all of these were my choices, that these were things that I did. From the beginning, you told me I was a pawn in this game - and I know my father felt the same -"

I see guilt flash across Kent's face as he remembers the way he explained my place in this world by demonstrating to me that I was a mere penny to be moved around the table by men more powerful than me.

"But none of this, Kent," I say softly, "none of my actions these past two months have been the natural result of a bigger player's move. It was me, choosing to step in, to play my own cards. If you try to take the guilt from me..."

He nods, understanding. "It would be me, in my way, claiming your moves as my own."

"I...won't let you do that, Kent," I say quietly, shaking my head. "I think...I think I'm different now from who I was before. It means something to me, this knowledge that I can handle myself in this world. I won't let you take it from me."

Slowly, he lowers his face, pressing his forehead to mine. "Good," he murmurs, his word a simple affirmation of everything I think and I feel. Because...I wouldn't take it back, would I?

"Will you hate me for it?" I whisper.

"Hmm?" he asks, moving a way a little, frowning at me.

"For not letting you take this from me? For...for having blood on my hands? For being different than the sweet girl you...liked?"

"Fay," Kent sighs, his frown deepening. "If you think that I haven't been aware for many months now that you're capable of great and terrible things and loved you because of it..." "What?" I ask, leaning away a little, shocked.

He laughs lightly and dips his head again, lower now, to press a kiss gently to my neck. "Maybe not from the start," he murmurs, his lips grazing my skin, making a shiver run through me. "But...very soon after, love - I realized precisely what you were, and I loved you for it." "And what I am I?" I ask, deeply curious.

"Well," he says, lifting his head and looking me in the eye. "There may be a great deal about us that is dissimilar on the surface," he murmurs. "I'm...hard, and you are soft, and sweet. And you're small, and delicate -"

"And you're gigantic," I laugh, making him laugh too, pulling me tighter against him.

"Yes, that," he continues. "And you're the bright fire to my darkness, the song to my silence, but deep down? In our hearts, our true selves, where it matters?"

And suddenly, I realize that he's right - and that this was perhaps the spark that rose between us. Kent and I - what we see echoed from the depths of each other is a reflection of ourselves. And if Kent can accept that he is capable of murder to defend the ones he loves...

...then he must accept, must have accepted for a long time, that I am as well.

"Whatever souls are made of," I murmur, lifting my chin to look steadily into his eyes.

"Yours and mine are the same," he finishes.

And I laugh, pleased even beyond myself -

"Do you remember," I say suddenly, all in a rush, "the first time I said that -"

"Yes," Kent growls, his voice harsh now, rumbling against me as he tightens his grip on my body, pulling me close, wrapping his fingers in my hair. "Except you said it about that damn horse instead of me - I've never been so jealous of a horse in my life, Fay -" I'm laughing now, warmly, richly, joy thrumming through every inch of me. But my laugh is cut short, because Kent finally -

Finally-

He claims my mouth with his own, kissing me breathless.

Things move quickly now, as they should have before - but I realize that I was holding back because I didn't understand, didn't trust that he would see me for who I am and love me anyway.

But now that I realize that he's seen it all along? And loved it all along?

God, the freedom I feel -

I let it all go then, in an instant. Any hesitations, any fears - gone.

And left in their wake is a pure, undiluted love for this man, who is my match in every way. A man who I very much want, right now.

And who very, very clearly wants me just as much.

Kent's mouth is hot, insistent on mine as he turns me in the bed, lowering me to the mattress and leveraging his body above me so that I can feel the weight of him pressing me down. I moan, my mouth open to him, at the warm press of him on top of me, the feel of his tongue moving against mine, tasting me -

But at the sound of my moan, Kent hesitates, pulling his face away, looking down towards my belly. "Is it..." he asks, flashing his eyes back up to mine, "does it hurt, me on top of you like this? The baby?"

"No," I breathe, wrapping my hand in his hair and pulling his face back to mine. "I'll tell you if it does."

With a little groan of his own, Kent presses his lips to mine, claiming me again. My sharpening breath tells him how much I want him, how much I've been waiting for this - for the feel of him again hard against me, for his mouth against my skin -

Kent has been patient before, in the past - taking his time with me, teasing me. But tonight is...not one of those times. Instead, his hands move with a steady determination, the callouses of his palms rough against my skin as he slips them beneath my flimsy nightgown, one dipping low to grab my a*s, the other sliding upwards to claim my b****t.

He groans again, louder now, as he presses me closer against him, turning to the side so that I lay with my belly pressed flush against his - or at least, as flush as it can go anymore - as he pulls at my leg, lifting it to hook my knee high over his waist.

I kiss him recklessly as I feel him shove at his boxer briefs, pushing them down. I moan a little into his mouth, shaking a little with anticipation as I feel him roll his body over mine again. I can feel the hard, swelling mass of his cock now positioned at the core of me, and I press my hips up, wanting him to press inside -

But Kent waits, taking a moment to slide one hand up my arm, lifting it above my head. I pause now, opening my eyes, curious -

And I see him looking down at me now, his eyes insistent as he pins that wrist above my head, asking me for my consent - to give it all to him, all of the control -

Control over my body tonight, yes, but also of our lives, our futures -

Kent is asking me, silently, to pass him that control. To let him take care of me, to trust him -

And I nod, slowly, as I lift my other hand as well and cross my arms at the wrist, letting him grasp both together.

Kent moans, then - dark, and heavy - as he lets his weight rest fully against me now, sliding his free hand down the length of my body as he pins my wrist above my head. I swear his moving hand leaves sparks in its wake. He wraps that hand around my hip, lifting me harder against him, and with one slow press Kent slides himself into me.