Nas uses my leash as leverage, pulling it tight while he fucks my pussy like he hates me. The collar presses against my throat like a vise. My eyes bulge as I’m strangled from behind, and all of my masochistic dreams become reality. This is what I’ve always dreamed of—to be fucked into extinction. I can’t inhale at all, and I know my neck will be bruised for days after this. It’s perfect. Nas is brutally relentless, choking me until I feel the familiar sensation of an orgasm rising inside me. I fist the sheets and hang on for dear life as Nas keep fucking me, quickly building up to a bomb that explodes in us both at the same time.

“Oh, fuck! I’m coming!” Nas screams as he detonates inside me, right as my second orgasm erupts.

“Yes! Oh, my fucking god!” I croak through crushed vocal chords as I’m blown to kingdom come beneath Nas’s grip.

The two of us go into seizures, our bodies quivering like an earthquake is happening just beneath us. We writhe and squirm until our limbs give way and we collapse into a heap on top of each other. We melt together until we’re nothing but a pile of sweaty, exhausted limbs intertwined, staring up at the mirrored ceiling. My ears fill with the sound of our panting and the heavy thud of my heartbeat as I smile to myself.

After a few minutes, we finally catch our breath and move into more comfortable positions on the bed. Nas lays on his back while I lay on my side and rest my head on his chest, his arm over my shoulder, protecting me from the world. Now that our reconciliation is complete, I feel whole again. I feel more at peace than I have in months, and even in this basement I feel like I’m floating on a cloud above Dover.

They say home is where the heart is. Well, this is home—here on his chest, in his arms, in this bed, within the walls of the Kingdom. I’m home.

Six Months Later

Chapter Forty-Three

The Barnes & Noble in Rittenhouse Square in Philly is packed. Nearly every space is taken as I swirl through different sections of the parking lot, looking for a spot of my own. I find that I’m okay with struggling to find an opening, because the longer I’m out here, the more time I have to prepare myself for what I’m going to see when I get inside. I’m a nervous wreck, even though I shouldn’t be. Nas and I have been going stronger than ever for six months now, yet I’m as anxious as can be about going inside and watching him interact with a room full of frenzied fans of Nasir Booker.