Bonds of Obsession (Pretty Ruthless Monsters #3)

23. Quinn

23

QUINN

Killian pins me to the door, his massive hand wrapping around my throat. Just the slight pressure there makes my pussy clench, giving my racing thoughts somewhere to settle. His raw strength radiates through every point of contact between us, but there’s control in it too—the kind of absolute control that I’ve learned to trust one hundred percent.

“Remember your word,” he growls against my ear. “And fucking say it if you need it. Understand?”

“I remember. I understand,” I gasp out, and his grip tightens just enough to make my breath catch. His fingers flex against my throat, a reminder of who’s in control.

“Good girl,” he rumbles as his other hand slides down between my thighs. I’m still fully clothed, but he doesn’t seem bothered by the layers of denim and fabric that separate us. “I bet you’re already fucking wet for me. I bet you could get off just from imagining what I’m gonna do to you.”

I hate that he’s so fucking right, but I love it at the same time.

He uses the inseam of my jeans to his advantage, zeroing in on my clit and rubbing the rough, coarse denim against it.

“Oh my fucking god,” I moan as my legs begin to tremble. Everything starts to fade away—all the worries about Ambrose, about the Dark Lotus Syndicate, about Emmett’s betrayal. It all disappears under Killian’s touch until there’s nothing left but the raw need building between my legs and the safety I feel in his dangerous hands.

“That’s it.” His voice drops to that dark place that makes me shiver. “Let go for me, siren. Give me those sweet moans. Show me how fucking desperate you are.”

I am desperate, grinding shamelessly against his hand. That’s the thing about Killian—as deadly as he is, as much as he terrifies other people, I’ve never felt safer than when I’m being manhandled by him. He may be broken in some ways, may struggle to process emotions like other people do, but his possession is absolute. When he claims something as his, he owns every fucking inch of it.

And right now? He owns all of me.

My mind empties of everything except him—his scent of leather and whiskey filling my senses, his thumb pressing harder against my fluttering pulse point, the solid wall of his chest crushing me against the door. My clit throbs under his rough attention, and I’m close to begging him to fuck me already.

“Please,” I whimper, not even caring how needy I sound. With Killian—within the privacy and protection of these four walls—I don’t have to be a leader. I don’t have to be strong for anyone. I can just be his cock-hungry little siren, exactly the way he wants me.

“Please what?” He bites down on my neck, hard enough to leave a mark. “Use your words like a good girl. Tell me exactly what that greedy little pussy needs.”

Heat floods my cheeks, but I’m too far gone to care about pride. “Please fuck me. I need your cock inside me. Need you to—fuck!” I cry out as he yanks my jeans open roughly, shoving his hand inside to feel how wet I am.

“Fucking drenched,” he growls approvingly, two thick fingers pushing into me without warning. “This tight little pussy belongs to me. To us. No one else gets to see you like this, do they? No one else knows what a desperate slut you are for us.”

I shake my head frantically, clenching around his fingers as he finger-fucks me hard against the door. “No one else,” I gasp. “Just you. Just my men.”

Even with his fingers buried inside me, thoughts of Ambrose try to creep in—memories of Atlas’s screams over the phone, the way he looked when we finally got him back. But Killian’s hand tightens on my throat, as if he can sense my mind wandering. My heart pounds harder as the pressure increases, dragging my focus back where it belongs.

“Stay with me, siren. The only thing you need to think about is how I’m going to wreck this pretty hole.”

He yanks my jeans down roughly, ignoring the sharp breath I suck in as the denim scrapes my thighs. My shirt follows, then he practically tears my panties off, leaving me naked and exposed within seconds while he’s still fully clothed.

“Look at you,” he growls, shoving both fingers back into me. “Taking my fingers so fucking deep. You need it rough, don’t you? Need me to fuck the thoughts right out of your pretty head.”

“Yes,” I gasp as he pistons his fingers in and out, the wet sounds of my arousal filling the room. “I just don’t know if I can stop think—ah?—”

His hand tangles in my hair, yanking my head back until I have no choice but to meet his piercing gaze. “Listen carefully, siren. The only words you get right now are ‘yes,’ ‘please,’ and my name. That’s all your pretty mouth is allowed to say. Understand?”

“Yes,” I gasp as his fingers curl inside me, finding that spot that makes my legs shake.

“Good girl.” His eyes devour me, dark and hungry. “Now let me hear you beg.”

“Please,” I whimper, my walls clenching around his fingers as he increases his pace. But those goddamn thoughts keep intruding—worries about the gang, about Atlas’s recovery, about things I can’t change or fix right now.

“Focus,” he growls, twisting his fingers in a way that makes me cry out. “Your mind belongs to me. Your body belongs to me. Everything else can fucking wait.”

I try to say something else, but he cuts me off with a sharp bite to my neck. “What did I say about words, siren? Try again.”

“Killian,” I moan as his thumb finds my clit, working it in ruthless circles while his fingers drive into me. “Please… please.”

“Better.” His voice drops even lower, rumbling through me. “Look at me while I fuck you with my fingers. Watch me while that greedy pussy gets closer and closer to coming.”

I force my eyes to stay locked on his, even as pleasure builds and threatens to overwhelm me. His fingers are relentless, pushing me toward the edge, but my traitorous mind keeps trying to race ahead.

“Please,” I gasp again, frustrated by my inability to let go completely.

“I know what you need.” His fingers go still and his lips curling into that dangerous smile that makes my pussy clench. “And I’m going to fucking give it to you.”

He moves his free hand from my hair down to my throat, squeezing tight enough to make my eyes go wide as he cuts off my air.

“Listen carefully,” he growls, his fingers in my pussy starting to move until he’s slowly sliding in and out of me again. “You can breathe when you come. Not before. Understand?”

I swallow and squirm as I realize he’s serious. With anyone else, I’d already be kicking and screaming, fighting to regain control.

Not with him.

He knows my body, my needs, and my limits. So I just nod and exhale through my nose as my lungs go empty.

“That’s my good girl.” His thumb flicks my clit, sending a jolt of wet heat straight to my core before he starts massaging it again. “Now, no more fucking thinking. Take what I’m giving you and let go until you come all over my fucking hand.”

His words go straight to that place inside me—the place that wants more than anything to surrender control, to be possessed, to feel nothing but pleasure for as long as he wants to give it to me.

I nod again, my mouth falling open as I struggle to breathe and concentrate on the feelings he’s pulling out of me.

“Tighten your pussy around my hand. That’s it.” His voice is gravelly, filled with a growling possessiveness that makes my walls clench around him. “I want you to come so hard that you pass the fuck out. That you forget everything except for the fact that you’re mine.”

Mine.

The word echoes in my mind, centering me as his fingers bring me closer and closer to the edge. My thoughts blur and mix with the haze of arousal clouding my brain, and my vision narrows to just him.

“Come for me, siren,” he growls, nipping at my neck, my jaw, my shoulder as he peppers the sensitive skin with open-mouthed kisses and bites. “Let go for me. Show me how fucking beautiful you are when you lose control.”

His demand is the final push I need, and my body obeys, my walls clenching around his fingers as I cry out. Killian keeps his hand firmly around my throat, his eyes burning into mine, and I feel myself falling over the edge. All that’s left—all I care about—is him, me, and the blinding, white-hot pleasure that he’s wringing from my body.

I come hard, my pussy clenching and unclenching with each pulse, my walls rippling around his fingers as he keeps plunging them in and out through my orgasm.

And then finally, mercifully, he releases his hold on my throat, allowing sweet oxygen to rush back into my lungs. It’s overwhelming, sending me spiraling into another wave of pure pleasure that makes my legs give out. Killian is right here for me, though, his strong arms wrapping around me and holding me in place as I give myself over to him completely.

I’m still trembling from my orgasm when Killian’s eyes darken with hunger all over again.

“I need to taste you,” he growls, and before I can process his words, he drops to his knees.

My legs are shaking too hard to hold me up, but it doesn’t matter. In one fluid motion, he throws them over his shoulders and surges to his feet, pinning me against the wall. This is what I love about being with him—the way he manhandles me with such precise control, showing me exactly how powerful he is while keeping me completely safe.

“Love tasting you when you’re so fucking wet like this,” he murmurs against my inner thigh, his breath hot against my sensitive skin. “Going to make you come again, siren. Want to feel you fall apart on my tongue.”

I’m still oversensitive from my first orgasm, but I know better than to try to squirm away. Killian takes what he wants, and right now, what he wants is to devour me whole.

His mouth claims me possessively, and I cry out, my fingers tangling in his hair. Every stroke of his tongue sends aftershocks of pleasure through my body. He knows exactly how to touch me, how to drive me wild until I forget my own fucking name.

“That’s it,” he growls between long, hungry laps up and down my folds. “Give me everything. Show me how good it feels when I own this pretty pussy.”

The pure possession in his voice pushes me closer to the edge, making my thighs tremble against his shoulders. That’s what this is really about. Him marking his territory, claiming what’s his. This man who terrifies everyone he meets, who can kill without remorse, who struggles to feel normal human emotions—he’s chosen me.

And god help me, I want to be claimed. Want to be owned. Want to belong to him and Nico and Atlas in every way.

“Mine,” he growls against my skin, the word vibrating up through my core. “Ours. Say it.”

“Yours,” I gasp, my head falling back against the wall. “All of yours.”

His grip tightens on my thighs as he doubles down on his efforts, and I can feel another orgasm building fast and hard.

“Killian,” I whimper, my fingers tangling tighter in his hair. “Oh fuck, Killian, please?—”

He makes a sound somewhere between a growl and a groan, and the vibration of it tips me over the edge. The climax hits me even harder than the first one, spreading through my body like wildfire. My back arches off the wall and I cry out his name like it’s the only fucking word I remember as pleasure courses through me in waves, leaving me completely boneless in his grip.

He holds me steady through it all, his hands firm and possessive on my trembling thighs. When the last aftershock fades, I slump against the wall, gasping for breath. But from the hungry look in his eyes as he gazes up at me, I know he’s far from done.

He lifts me off his shoulders and lets me slide down his body until he’s holding me in his arms, then carries me to the bed with an effortless strength that makes my heart race. The contrast isn’t lost on me—how the same hands that can snap a man’s neck with cold precision now hold me with such careful control. He throws me down onto the mattress, and I bounce once before he’s on me, flipping me over and pressing my wrists above my head.

“Keep these here,” he growls against my ear. The fact that I’m completely naked while he’s still fully clothed makes me feel even more vulnerable. The denim of his jeans brushes against my ass as he pins my legs together with his thighs.

“You’re mine,” he says, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that makes me shiver. “Say it.”

“Yours,” I gasp. “Always yours.”

His grip tightens on my wrists as he reaches down to unzip and shove his pants down. He kicks them off, and before I have another second to brace for what’s coming, he drives into me up to the hilt, taking what belongs to him. Every thrust reminds me that I’m his—his to protect, his to possess, his to break apart and put back together again.

“Such a good girl for me,” he groans, and the praise makes me clench around him. “Taking me so deep. Me…” Another thrust. “Nico…” And another. “And Atlas. We’re the only ones who get to have you like this.”

I press my face into the mattress, overcome by the connection between us. This isn’t just sex—it’s surrender, trust, possession. It’s knowing that this man who feels nothing for anyone else somehow feels everything for me.

“Look at me,” he demands, yanking my hair to turn my head. His eyes burn into mine as he drives deeper. “Want to see your face while I make you mine.”

The pure possession in his gaze pushes me toward the edge again. This is what I need—to be owned, claimed, marked as his. As theirs. To belong completely to these three men who’ve somehow become my everything.

Just when I think I can’t take another second of this perfect, exquisite torture, he pulls out completely, leaving me whimpering and empty as he rocks back on his heels and repositions himself behind me.

“Trust me,” he says, and I do. That’s what makes this so powerful. I trust him completely to know exactly what I need, to push my boundaries while keeping me safe.

He guides my hands, pulling them down where he wants them until he has me gripping my own ass cheeks.

“Now spread them for me.”

The vulnerability of the position makes my heart race, but I don’t hesitate to do what he says, letting my face press into the bedding as I put every part of myself on display for him.

“Good girl,” he praises roughly as he presses a finger against that tight little ring of muscle and works me open slowly. “You’re taking everything I give you. Now show me how much you need this.”

He knows my body so well, knows exactly how to strip away my defenses until there’s nothing left but raw sensation and trust.

“Please,” I whimper as he pushes me to my limits. My thighs tremble as his finger works its way inside me. “God, please keep going. Please, please fuck me like this. In the pussy, in the ass… wherever. I just need you. Need all of you.”

“That’s it,” he growls, his voice dropping even lower. “Give in to it. Show me how perfectly you surrender.”

And this really is what I need—to be pushed right to the edge of what I can take, to trust someone else to be in complete control.

The head of his cock is lined up with my pussy again, and I don’t even try to hold back the needy moan that spills from my lips when he snaps his hips forward and thrusts all the way into me in one long, smooth motion.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant in time with his thrusts as he picks up speed. “Keep… keep going. Please.”

Every thrust of his cock in my pussy is complemented by an equally quick, equally rough thrust of his finger in and out of my ass, and the dual sensations are more than I can handle.

I’m already seeing stars, but now my vision is starting to close in around the edges, and my whole body is starting to tingle.

I’m so close to coming, hovering right on the brink as he works me over. But he knows how to keep me there, suspended in that space between pleasure and pain, making me feel completely owned.

The pressure builds as he pushes me higher, filling both holes with his thick finger and cock. “Come for me one more time,” he demands. “Show me how good you can be.”

I shatter completely, crying out as the most intense orgasm yet crashes through me. Tears spring to my eyes from the overwhelming sensation as pleasure courses through every nerve ending in my body. His grip tightens possessively as he follows me over the edge with a deep groan, marking me as his from the inside out.

He collapses over me, his solid weight pinning me to the mattress. The gesture feels protective rather than dominating now, and I feel completely safe underneath him. His lips brush my neck with surprising tenderness, a complete contrast to his earlier roughness.

“You’re so perfect for me,” he murmurs against my skin, nuzzling the spot where my pulse still races. “My good girl. My beautiful siren.”

The praise washes over me, making me feel cherished in a way only Killian can manage—like I’m both completely owned and utterly precious to him.

“What are you thinking about now?” he asks softly, his fingers trailing along my spine.

I smile, feeling utterly boneless and at peace. “Just this,” I whisper. “Just you.”