By His Play

51. Kieran

51

KIERAN

H er statement hits me like an eighteen-wheeler.

“I’ve got a date.”

They’re not words I hear from my best friend.

She doesn’t date.

Okay, that’s a lie. She has dated in the past, but after a few disasters, she declared that she was out of the game and if there were a man out there for her, he’d have to find her.

She was done searching for Mr. Right.

And I guess I just kinda accepted that that was still the case.

Never did I think that she’d change her mind.

I guess losing loved ones and grief does weird things to people.

But then another thought hits me.

Was it me?

Did I do this?

“A…a date? Like… a date with a man?”

Her nostrils flare in irritation.

“Yes, Kieran. I haven’t suddenly become a lesbian.”

Images of last night flicker through my head.

No, she certainly has not. She wanted my dick too much to have turned to the other side.

“Who with?” I demand, my fists curling at my sides as I try to process this new information.

I fucked her last night.

I made her mine last night. I literally whispered it in her fucking ear.

At what point was she going to tell me that she’s dating someone?

When she gushed all over my fingers, or when I pushed her up against the window and made her come on my dick?

Heat surges through me, desire and anger colliding in one toxic mix that’s going to land me in trouble.

Walk away , a little voice screams.

Walk away before you say something you don’t mean.

“No one you know,” she says dismissively as she wakes her computer up and turns toward it as if I don’t deserve any of her time or attention.

Fury explodes and I step closer to her desk.

“Please can we do this another time? I’ve got calls to make.”

“Does he know?” I blurt, pressing my palms to her desk and leaning closer.

Her sweet scent hits me and my mouth waters as I remember how incredible she looked last night, naked and at my mercy.

“Know what?” she asks impatiently.

Leaning over her desk, I drop the tone of my voice and rasp, “That you’re my dirty whore.”

She’s on her feet in a heartbeat, her chair shooting out behind her and colliding with her bookcase.

“We’re done here,” she fumes. But while her eyes are narrowed and her lips pursed in anger, her eyes soften.

“Oh, Luck. We’ve barely started.”

“Kieran,” she warns as I stalk around her desk. “No. No,” she snaps as she twists around to stop me trapping her in the corner.

It hits me right in the dick.

“Does he know?” I demand, my voice a little harsher this time.

She glares at me, and her fire lights something inside me.

“Does he know that I let the entire city watch as I fucked you like the dirty whore you are last night?”

She shrieks as I surge closer and slam my palms down on the desk on either side of her hips.

“Kieran,” she warns, but there isn’t any strength behind it.

I stare her dead in the eyes, our breaths mingling.

“Tell me you didn’t want it,” I taunt. “Tell me that you didn’t enjoy every second of last night.”

She bites down on the inside of her lip.

I smirk.

“You want it again, don’t you?”

“No, Kieran. We can’t.”

I move closer and press my knee in the small gap between hers, giving her little choice but to spread her legs.

“Says who?”

“Me. We’ve already fucked things up. We can’t keep?—”

Her words are cut off with a gasp as I reach for her throat and tip her head back so she can hold my eyes as I step closer.

“We can do whatever the fuck we want, Luck. And right now, you want me.”

She tries to shake her head and deny it, but my grip is too tight.

“I know you. I know you better than anyone else on this fucking planet, and right now, your panties are soaked. All you can think about is how it felt when I pushed you up against your windows last night and fucked you. You keep clenching your pussy, wishing you could feel me inside you again.

“Who do you belong to, Effie?”

Her eyes widen and she purses her lips, refusing to answer me.

“Tell me. Whose whore are you?”

“Yours,” she cries.

Her pulse thunders beneath my fingers, telling me how much she loves it.

Being with her last night taught me something.

Showed me exactly what I was missing. And I don’t just mean sex.

I mean her. Everything about her.

I don’t just want her in my life.

I don’t just need her as my friend.

I am fucking desperate for every single part of her.

It’s scary. Really fucking scary.

It’s everything I always said I didn’t want. But right now, with her right in front of me, none of that matters.

Not having her in my life is more terrifying than attempting to navigate whatever this thing is between us.

Her lips part as if she’s going to try to deny what we both know is true, but I don’t give her a chance to say a word.

Instead, I push my hand under her skirt and drag my fingers up the soft skin of her inner thigh before rubbing her through the lace of her panties.

My smirk grows when I discover that I was right.

She’s soaked.

Leaning forward, I brush my nose against hers.

It takes every ounce of self-control I possess not to kiss her, especially when she leans in for it.

“Mine,” I tell her before tugging her panties to the side and dragging my fingers through her folds, coating myself in her juices.

Her hips jump from the desk and she cries out, forgetting where she is.

“That’s it, Luck. Let everyone in this office know who owns you.”

Her lips slam shut and her eyes widen as reality slams into her.

“Kieran, we can’t?—”

“Oh, but we can,” I counter, pushing my fingers lower and sinking them inside her.

Her muscles ripple around me, welcoming me home as she falls back onto her palms, giving me better access.

“Fuck, yeah,” I groan as I take in the sight of her before me. “Spread your legs wider.”

She does so without hesitation. Even when she hates me, she trusts me.

That realization slams into me, making it hard to breathe.

I stare down at her pussy, watching as my fingers disappear inside her.

“So fucking perfect,” I muse before looking up and finding her eyes. “And so fucking mine.”

“Kieran.” My name is nothing more than a plea on her lips as I curl my fingers and find her G-spot.

“Cancel your date, Effie,” I demand as I work her closer and closer to her release.

“Fuck you,” she gasps, making my brows shoot up.

“That can certainly be arranged. Against the windows again so the entire office can see?” I ask.

Fear washes across her face.

“N-no.”

I chuckle.

I might have taken her in front of her window last night, and she might think it was a risk. But I know better. I’d never let anyone else see her like that. She’s mine, and mine only.

“Cancel your date,” I repeat as she’s riding the edge of her release.

“No, no,” she chants.

“Don’t make me do it for you.”

I brush her clit with my thumb and she flies off the edge.

A cry falls from her a beat before she remembers she needs to be quiet and slams her lips shut.

Slipping my hand around the back of her neck, I help hold her up as she loses control.

“That’s it, Luck. Why would you want to be with anyone else when you could have this?”

She glares at me as her body comes down from its high.

“Fuck, you look good spread out on your desk for me.”

I push my fingers inside her again, making her entire body shudder with aftershocks before I lift them to my mouth.

She watches with heated eyes as I suck them clean.

“I-I need to get back to work.”

“After you’ve canceled your date,” I state as I step back, allowing her to sort herself out.

“I’m not—” Her words are cut off as I push my hand into my jeans and rearrange myself.

My dick is painfully hard. My need to take her is all-consuming.

But I won’t.

Not yet.

“You will. You want to go out to dinner tonight? I’ll take you.”

“No, Kieran,” she huffs, quickly losing patience with me as she smooths her skirt down.

Our gazes hold, our silent battle of wills continuing.

“Fine,” I finally concede, although, I’m not happy about it. “You go out on this date tonight. But I guarantee that the whole time, you’ll be thinking about me.”

“Jesus. Arrogant much?”

I shrug. “Why not? We both know that he’ll never be what you need. That he’ll never give you what you want.”

Her jaw ticks as if she’s holding back her response.

“You don’t know anything about what I want,” she mutters quietly.

We both know she’s lying.

“Call me when you’re done tonight. I’ll show you how you should really end a date.”

With that promise ringing in the air, I march from her office, slamming her door behind me.

My heart is still racing, jealousy surging through my veins when I get to my car and shut myself in.

“FUCK,” I roar, slamming my palm down on the steering wheel.

I don’t know what I expected to happen when I turned up here earlier.

I saw the meeting in my diary and I couldn’t ignore it.

My heart pounds harder as I picture some asshole taking her out tonight, sitting across from her at a restaurant, trying to steal a kiss—or more—when he drops her off at home.

My fists curl, a fresh wave of anger racing through me.

Who the fuck takes a girl out on a Monday night, anyway?

Fucking asshole.

Minutes pass as I sit there, trying to calm my racing heart.

My head screams to go back upstairs, demand she cancel and refuse to leave until she does. Another part of me wants to stick around and wait so I can follow her.

But deep down, I know both are wrong.

In the end, I force myself to start the engine, and I finally back out of the space and head toward the stadium. There is only one thing I can do when I’m feeling like this.

I need pain, and a lot of it.